The Wedding

Epilogue

Sunset was a magical time. The children would be outside, running barefoot up and down the paths and shrieking with laughter while their mother kept a watchful eye on their youngest, a fiery-headed bairn with a wobble in her gait and a devilish gleam in her blue eyes, who found great sport in plucking the flowers out of the ground as soon as her mama planted them.

He would go up to his bedroom to remove his sword before joining them in their games, but he always lingered in front of the window to look out beyond the walls.

The first sprig of heather blossomed almost as soon as the ruins were torn down, and now the field was alive with rich, glorious hues, a fitting tribute, his wife believed, to the man who had gone before.

The scent of honey mingled with the sound of laughter, and, oh, what a joy it was to be home.