Epilogue

T o Sencha, the four weeks they had waited to marry felt like an eternity. Each sunrise brought with it a flutter of anticipation, and each sunset a sigh of longing. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, every moment without Knox was much too long.

At long last, the day had arrived. The keep’s chapel had been adorned with garlands of wildflowers, their delicate petals filling the air with a sweet, earthy fragrance. Soft candlelight bathed the stone walls in a warm glow as she and Knox exchanged vows, their voices steady yet filled with emotion. The ancient words bound them together, witnessed by those closest to them.

Now they sat side by side at the high table in the grand hall, guests of honor at the feast celebrating their union. The hall was alive with merriment—the clinking of tankards, bursts of laughter, and the lively strains of fiddles and pipes weaving through the air.

Sencha felt a radiant joy welling up inside her, so intense it threatened to overflow. Her gaze swept over the assembled guests, taking in each beloved face.

Her mother sat with Gordon, their eyes shining with pride and happiness. The lines of worry that had etched her mother’s face for so long seemed smoothed away, replaced by a serene contentment.

Sencha turned her gaze to Knox who sat beside her, and her breath caught. He was breathtaking. Clad in the vibrant tartan of the Ross clan, his kilt draped elegantly over his strong frame. The crisp white of his tunic contrasted sharply with his tanned skin. His freshly shorn hair accentuated the chiseled lines of his face. His eyes, deep and clear, held a spark that sent a thrill through her. The heat radiating from his body was a comforting presence next to her, a silent promise of the warmth they would share in the nights to come. At a delightful shiver of anticipation, her cheeks flushed at the thought.

A group of guardsmen approached the table, their rugged faces softened by genuine smiles. Knox rose to greet them, clasping forearms and exchanging hearty embraces.

The hardened warriors, men accustomed to the stern demands of duty, became almost bashful in her presence. Each one offered her kind words and blessings, their voices gentler than she had ever heard them. They wished her and Knox every happiness, their eyes reflecting sincerity. She thanked them graciously, her heart swelling with gratitude for the camaraderie they shared with her husband—and now, with her.

The music in the hall swelled, filling every corner with its joyful melodies. Guests moved to the open space to dance, their movements spirited and unrestrained. Sencha’s attention was drawn to a group of young women. They joined hands and spun in circles, skirts swirling around their ankles. She noticed the way their eyes darted toward the young men nearby. Furtive glances filled with hope and excitement. The men, attempting to appear aloof, couldn’t hide the amused smiles tugging at their lips or the appreciative glances they cast in return.

“It was nae that long ago that it was us,” Nala mused, her gaze on the dancers.

Sencha turned to her, a playful glint in her eye. “Ye never sought men’s attention when ye were younger,” she teased. “And from what ye’ve told me, that hasn’t changed much.”

Nala laughed softly, the sound like a gentle melody. “Perhaps not,” she conceded, “but I always cherished the dancing and the freedom of those days.”

Her laughter caught the ear of the laird. He looked over, his stern features softening as his eyes rested on his wife. “I enjoy dancing with ye now.”

Nala’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, a tender smile curving her lips. “And I with ye,” she replied softly, their exchange filled with unspoken affection.

Nala turned her attention back to Sencha. “When do ye think ye fell in love with Knox?” she asked gently, her eyes searching her friend’s face.

Sencha leaned back, her thoughts drifting as she considered the question. “In truth, I cannae say for certain,” she admitted. “Perhaps I’ve loved him for a very long time, without even realizing it. But the moment I allowed myself to acknowledge it, there was no turning back. It was as if a door had opened, and I could nae deny what was in my heart.”

Just then, as if he sensed her thoughts, Knox turned away from his conversation with the guardsmen. His eyes found hers, and the bustling hall seemed to fade away. In his gaze, she saw a reflection of her own feelings. The depth of their love. The promise of a shared future. And the unspoken understanding that bound them together. A slow, tender smile curved his lips, and Sencha felt warmth spread through her entire being.

A man approached Knox and said something that made her husband animated, as he spoke his hands made gestures in the air.

With a broad grin, Knox leaned toward her and pressed a kiss to her lips. “My horse has returned. Do ye mind? I must go see him.”

Happiness threatened to overspill, and tears filled Sencha’s eyes. “Aye, go,” she urged her heart leaping with joy.

Pulling her into a tight embrace her new husband’s lips linger at her ear. “Be prepared to retire upon my return. Our wedding night has only just begun.”

With a wicked grin, he met her gaze.

In that singular moment, surrounded by the joyous celebration of their marriage, Sencha knew with unwavering certainty that no stronger love could ever exist for her.

The world around them was vibrant and full of life, yet all she could see was Knox. The man who had captured her heart so completely. She returned his smile, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she knew they would face them together, their hearts forever entwined.