Page 100 of Mountains of Mist and Magic

“You're a lucky man, Sion,” she teased.

“Don't I know it,” he replied, kissing her deeply, and Selenia knew their wedding night was far from over.

Grayden peered into the cradle, meeting his daughter's perfect blue eyes. While she'd inherited his dark hair, nearly black in its depth, she had Renya's piercing aqua eyes.

Isolde gurgled, a tiny bit of drool pooling at the corner of her mouth. Grayden scooped her up, cradling her against his chest, careful not to disturb Renya. She was still recovering from childbirth and struggling to keep up with Isolde's insatiable appetite. Renya had grumbled about the lack of something called “formula,” but Grayden knew she secretly cherished those quiet moments with Isolde, even if the baby ate as much as Talia had as a foal.

Isolde. The name had seemed strange to him, but Renya had explained it meant something about ice and purity in a human language. Her aunt had agreed, and after witnessing Renya's birthing ordeal, he would have let her name the baby anything she wanted.

He patted the infant's back, still marveling at her tiny perfection. It seemed impossible that their love had produced such a beautiful creature.

Opening the door, he carried Isolde downstairs to the den. He knew she’d soon grow fussy, and he wanted Renya to rest as long as possible. He'd discovered that letting Isolde suck on his finger would content her for a while, sometimes lulling her back to sleep. He considered asking Renya if human mothers knew this trick but decided to keep it as a secret between father and daughter.

Settling into a plush armchair before the fire, Grayden rocked Isolde for a few seconds, and then shifted in the chair so he could reach the book that rested on the table next to them.

“This book is special to your momma, Snowdrop,” he said, as he openedThe Tale of Peter Rabbit.He finished the book quickly, and then rocked his daughter again while he told her stories that he remembered from sitting on his own father’s knee. Occasionally, he'd conjure a few flurries above her head, watching her eyes trace the flakes, sometimes going adorably cross-eyed.

These small displays were the extent of his magic use these days. His lands had returned to normal; glaciers solidified, snow thick and plentiful. As long as the dragons remained in their magical enclosure, their lands were secure. Peace reigned, and for once, it seemed likely to endure.

Renya's aunt Agatha entered with Tumwalt, immediately demanding to hold the baby. Grayden kissed Isolde's forehead before reluctantly handing her over. He appreciated the extra help, especially when Doria needed a break from the mischievous infant, but he looked forward to moving to the Sun Realm. He never thought he'd willingly leave his home, but he trusted Sion and Selenia to manage the Snow Lands. And he yearned for time alone with Renya, though she insisted on bringing Doria, to which he'd readily agreed.

With Cyrus and Cressida fated again, the Sun Realm lacked leadership. Cyrus, still wary of Cressida, had taken her far away, possibly even to the human world. Grayden assumed they were reconnecting and rebuilding their relationship, but Renya avoided the topic, so they rarely discussed it. Wherever the couple was, Grayden hoped trouble wouldn't follow.

Rising from his chair, Grayden noticed Tumwalt's gesture for a private word.

“Don't tell me you're getting married now, too,” he teased, aware of Tumwalt and Agatha's unacknowledged relationship.

Tumwalt sidestepped the question. “I've received a letter from Kalora. Triston and Julietta have arrived safely at the Twilight Kingdom. Triston seems content, and the village thrives. Their kingdom flourishes, as does ours.”

“I'm glad for him. I was worried when he agreed to follow Julietta, but with Kalora's newfound devotion to the Gods, I'm pleased they've settled there.” Grayden had marveled at Triston's willingness to leave the Tidal Kingdom, but his devotion to Julietta was absolute. Grayden knew Triston would do anything to ensure Julietta's happiness and peace of mind, especially as her belly grew with her pregnancy.

He felt the same about Renya.

“Anything else?” he asked Tumwalt.

“Just that preparations for Isolde's guardian ritual tonight are underway. Is Queen Renya ready?”

Grayden smirked. Since accusing Renya of witchcraft and facing Grayden's rebuke for disloyalty back when they first met, Tumwalt had become excessively deferential to Renya. She hated it, but Grayden found it quietly amusing.

“She's resting, but I'll have Doria wake her. Our Little Snowdrop caused quite a ruckus last night.” Grayden's gaze followed Agatha as she swayed with the baby. “She takes after her mother in that regard.”

Almory cradled Isolde, anointing her forehead with oil. Beside Grayden, Renya struggled to contain her tears.

You can cry, Little Fawn. It's an emotional day.

It's just my hormones.

If you say so.

Almory passed Isolde to Renya, who kissed her daughter's head before handing her to Grayden. The priest turned to the large fire, encircled by stones specially placed for this ceremony. Grayden had insisted on this location, where he and Renya had wed, believing it auspicious.

Silence blanketed the forest as Almory studied the flames. While Grayden saw only twisting fire, Almory scrutinized the shapes intently.

“I don't believe it,” he finally uttered.

“What?” Renya's alarm was palpable.

Grayden adjusted Isolde's fur-trimmed bonnet. “Out with it, Almory.”

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