Two Weeks Later, Londinium
Gawain stood at the dockside beside Antonia as the passengers on the ship bringing her daughter disembarked.
Since that night at the crossroads, he’d spread the word that he would lead any displaced Celt back to Cymru. Several of the Druids he’d met through Rhys had come forward. By the end of this week, they would return to their homeland.
The queen, along with several of her Druids, had decided to accompany them. With her connection to Carys, who had helped avert genocide, and Maximus, whose name carried great weight in the Roman world, they would receive due respect from the invaders when they returned as the exiled rulers.
Gawain caught the stony glare of Antonia’s adoptive father as he stood on the other side of her. The older man didn’t approve of either Gawain or their plans to move to Cymru. But he had given his daughter his blessing. And intended to join them in their new life.
He looked at Antonia. There was an aura of excitement surrounding her, of anticipation and relief but threaded through there was also a tremor of fear.
Will Cassia still remember me? Her whisper from last night haunted him.
He disregarded Roman protocol and threaded his fingers through hers. Her hand was chilled but she turned to look at him, and the love in her eyes stilled the breath in his throat.
Tomorrow this woman would be his wife in the eyes of Rome. But she was already his wife in his heart, where it truly mattered.
An elderly couple emerged from the crowds and Antonia stiffened. The old woman held a small child, a replica of Antonia in miniature. The baby caught sight of them and a smile illuminated her face.
“She remembers you, my sweet Antonia.” He squeezed her fingers and she laughed, and finally the last shadow died from the depths of her eyes.
Together, they went to greet their daughter.
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Scots warrior Connor will do anything to protect Aila from the Vikings. But to save her he must defy his king, betray his country, and forsake his honor
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