“Alright, you two.” I crossed the grass toward them, my heart full. Released from his captivity, my son grinned up at me with his father’s pale blue eyes. “Go wash for breakfast.”
As he raced off, Quintin pulled me close, one hand tilting my lips to his.
“Mama,” a small voice sounded behind us. We parted and turned.
Amita stood nearby, an apologetic smile on her face. “She insisted, my lady.”
I knelt and scooped Aileana up into my arms. “Good morning, darling. What’s the matter?” I asked, settling her onto my hip.
She fixed me with her best stubborn pout, a tumble of wheat hair falling into her deep green eyes. “I want to learn, too. Aubrey says I’m too little.”
I brushed her silken locks aside. “You’ve a few years yet, my love.” Her brow knit with a child’s despair. “But on your seventh birthday,” I added quickly, forestalling the cascade of tears, “a sword of your own will be here waiting for you.” She brightened, and I nuzzled her, eliciting a giddy shriek of laughter. “Now go find Will and tell him breakfast is ready,” I said, setting her down once more. She raced off into the house, Amita trailing close behind.
“Don’t be long, the eggs will get cold,” she called to us as she disappeared through the doorway.
Quintin’s strong arms slid around my waist as I watched them go, pulling me back against him. “I don’t suppose you’re up for a quick bout,” he murmured into my hair.
Grinning, I reached for my sword.
A Crown of Lilies Page 67