Pressed against the warmth of her husband's chest, Olivia rested her head against him as she watched her cousins, telling tales of yesterdays and weaving stories of the future. Kaizan had wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. The hearth blazed, chasing away the mist that swirled in the night, slithering in from the trees surrounding the courtyard and beyond. The servants were removing the last remnants from the table and collecting flutes and goblets and other scattered, rolling tumblers and coupes.
"I heard someone saw Lucas only a few days back loitering at the borders," said one of the cousins, as she rested on her belly with her chin on her hands.
"Those are just rumors," countered another. "That bastard doesn't have the guts to show up again."
