Private Tales The Starling and the Bear

[Isla]

“Huh?” Isla raised a brow, “Then where are we- OH!” She yelped when he swept her up into his arms, cradling her as he carried her away from their friends. Her heart melted, lingering on the name he had called her. Mrs. Anireth. It sounded unreal. It was unreal.

Her questions of where she was being taken went unanswered, but she did not seem to mind too much once they entered the carriage. Alone. Torn between excitement of their mysterious destination and being a wife had left her unable to keep her hands to herself and she spent the entirety of their short journey in his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck.

She peeked through the window of the carriage as it slowed to a halt, her eyes beaming the instant she recognized the words on the building. “You did not!” She hugged him tightly before releasing him so that he could lead them inside. The room was decorated, but still so Bess. Every inch of it was perfect. Food and drinks waited for the guests of honor to arrive. The cake?

How the hell was he able to pull off something so lavish with so little notice? Isla wondered.

She released the grip she held on Lynus’ hand when Bess strolled over and threw her arms around Isla. “Hello, Dearie!” She squished her insides with the force of her hug. Without the hesitation Isla may have offered anyone else, she wrapped the older woman tightly. “Come on, come on. Get on up there and cut the cake!” She ordered the pair of them when she released Isla, gesturing to the beautiful cake at the center of the room.

“Shall we?” She reached for Lynus to drag him along to where they were ordered. Her eyes never left Lynus as they approached, friends gathering closer to watch their special moment. “Promise not to smash it into my face, Bear.” Something twinkled in her eyes as they both reached for the silver knife, its handle carved with the same ivy that decorated the cake itself. She intertwined their fingers, allowing Lynus to guide them. With a soft press down, they cut into the cake and their little group erupted into applause and another round of cheers. For Isla, it all faded into the background, replaced by the rapid beating of her own heart as she lifted the slice of cake and fed it to him…and smashing it into his face before he could push her hand away.

With a laugh, she scooped the icing off of his face and licked it off her fingers before sauntering away to load a plate full of food. The table was a lavish display, overflowing with trays of roasted meats and vegetables that glistened under the candlelight. Freshly baked bread, golden and crusty, was arranged beside wheels of cheese, fruits, and pastries. It was a feast that was definitely fit for the Prince. But as Isla drew closer, the rich aromas hit her at once in an overwhelming assault on her senses. She hesitated for a moment, looking back to Lynus as her stomach twisted in protest and nausea rose in her throat.

Something about the texture of roasted lamb was too much to bear. She wrinkled her nose and grabbed two pieces of the crusty bread, a pastry, and a handful of fruit whose vibrant colors had called out to her. Except the melon. Its sliminess grossed her out and she dropped that back onto the plate it was previously placed on. With her pathetic plate, she made her way to the table and waited for Lynus to join her while she mostly stabbed the fruit with her fork.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus grinned as he wiped icing off his face, shaking his head with an amused chuckle at Isla’s mischievous retreat. “You’re lucky I love you, Mrs. Anireth,” he called after her, his voice warm with affection. He licked a bit of the frosting off his finger, savouring the sweetness before catching the towel thrown at him by Arryn. The cheers and laughter from their friends only added to the joy bubbling in his chest.

As he watched Isla approach the lavish feast, his smile softened. She moved with a grace that was uniquely hers, though he could sense the faint hesitation in her steps as she scanned the table. His brows furrowed slightly as he noticed her frown and the seemingly deliberate way she avoided certain foods.

By the time she settled at the table with her modest plate, Lynus was soon beside her, his own plate a masterpiece of indulgence, laden with nearly everything the table had to offer. His gaze drifted to her more reserved selection.

She wrinkled her nose, and the sight made his chest tighten with affection. He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you feeling okay?" he asked her quietly. His concern was genuine, though he tried not to fuss too much. He’d learned Isla didn’t always appreciate hovering, but he couldn’t help it—not when it came to her.

"If this is too much, just say the word." he offered in assurance.

 

[Isla]

Isla sat at the table, waiting for Lynus to join her. She poked at her pathetic plate absentmindedly, grimacing when she heard Lynus approach and give her a good look at his own plate, topped with almost everything the chef had to offer. She nibbled at the piece of bread when he brushed her hair away from her face. Concern on his face was subtle, but unmistakable.

"What?" Her eyes widened for a moment. "Oh, yes. No. I'm alright." She chuckled quietly. "I am fine, really." Her voice dropped low and her lips curved into a soft smile. "I think this baby has found a new way to torture me besides waking me up to vomit. Certain smells and textures just seemed to have suddenly become overwhelming."

She laughed again. "What a tragedy, honestly. But I'm sure I'll manage." She grabbed his hand before it could leave her face and squeezed it gently. "If it makes you feel better, I promise I'll tell you if anything gets worse, okay?" Her gaze lingered on his face, soft affection in her eyes. She knew he was worried and knew he tried not to show it too clearly for fear of pushing past her boundaries. But today, she was finding it rather endearing.

Her attention was stolen when she heard commotion and turned her focus away from her husband. Around the table, friends were chatting- swapping stories and raising glasses to toast the couple. She glared at Arryn and nodded towards Brett, who happened to be holding a glass of something that was certainly alcoholic.

She, herself, reached for a glass of water and sipped slowly, easing the queasiness that still lingered. Celebration carried on around them, more toasts and laughter, but Isla never strayed too far from Lynus. Even as they spoke with friends, her hand searched for his and held on until the last of the drinks were had and the final song came to an end. Isla swayed on her feet in Lynus' arms, her cheeks flushed and her eyes barely able to remain open.

"Come on," She beckoned, pulling herself from his arms. "One last dance?"

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus lowered his head slightly so his eyes were level with hers, his lips twitching into a faint smile despite the concern still shadowing his features. His hand lingered against her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin in a soft, steady rhythm.

"I know you're strong, love," he murmured, his voice low and laced with affection. "Stronger than you give yourself credit for most days. But you’ll have to forgive me if I can’t help worrying a little—it’s just part of the deal now." His smile grew, warm and teasing, though his eyes remained serious as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "You and the child you are carrying are everything that matters most to me in this world."

Her fingers wrapped around his hand, grounding him, and he exhaled a soft laugh as he leaned in to press a kiss to her temple. "But I’ll try, Isla," he promised, his voice a quiet vow. "I’ll try not to hover too much or fret over every little thing. Just... humour me if I slip, yeah?" He gave her a playful smirk, trying to lighten the moment even as his thumb brushed over her knuckles.

"But thank you," he added softly after a pause, his gaze meeting hers, steady and open. "For promising to tell me if something’s wrong. That means more to me than I can say."

As they sat amidst the celebrations, the noise of laughter and toasts, and the clinking of glasses, it all felt like a blur compared to the woman in his arms. The room was alive with joy, their friends raising glasses and sharing stories, but Lynus couldn’t pull his focus away from Isla.

She was glowing, her cheeks flushed and her lips curved in a soft smile despite the fatigue in her eyes. Every sound, every laugh, felt distant, muffled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, which seemed to echo one thought over and over: She’s mine.

The weight of it hit him suddenly, like a wave crashing over him. This wasn’t just a fleeting moment of happiness; it was the start of everything he’d never dared to believe he could have. Isla—this fierce, complicated, incredible woman—had chosen him.

He felt his chest tighten, overwhelmed by gratitude and something deeper, something he struggled to put into words. Watching her glance around the room, her hand absentmindedly reaching for his, he realised he didn’t care about the noise or the people or even the party. She was his anchor in a world that had so often felt adrift.

When her fingers entwined with his, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, grounding himself in her touch. The sight of her glowing amidst the candlelight, the sound of her soft laugh cutting through the din, made the chaos of the room feel like nothing more than a backdrop to a moment he’d treasure forever.

As she swayed against him in exhaustion, he held her a little tighter, the urge to protect and cherish her so strong it almost hurt. This wasn’t just a celebration for their friends—it was the celebration of a life he couldn’t wait to build with her. When she turned to him with that quiet plea for one last dance, he didn’t hesitate.

How could he? She was the reason he was standing there, surrounded by joy, finally at peace. And in that moment, Lynus felt it more deeply than ever: no matter what came next, he’d fight for her, for their life together, with everything he had.

"Last? Oh we have a lifetime of dancing ahead of us, Starling. But one more for tonight, yes." he smirked, and offered his hand to pull her gently to her feet. The music slowed, a soft melody drifting through the air, and Lynus guided her toward the centre of the room. The din quieted, and the room seemed to fade into the background as he pulled her close, his hands slipping around her waist.

 

[Isla]

Oh we have a lifetime of dancing ahead of us, Starling.

She gripped his hand, a small and hopeful smile on her face. "Thank you, Bear." She followed his guidance to the floor, glad he wasn't fretting over her health anymore. While normally she may have found it overbearing, he'd been sort of charming with his worries today. She supposed she could allow him a little slack with this.

One by one, their friends retreated to the rooms they would be staying in for the night, leaving just the newlyweds wrapped in each other's arms. She focused on the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart as he leaned into his chest, letting him wrap his arms around her as their dance came to its end.

"I don't think I've ever been so happy." She sniffled, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. Her words slipped form her mouth without thought. "I couldn't be happier." She closed her eyes and sighed, committing this moment to memory. "Thank you for seeing something in me, Lynus. I love you."

She glanced upward, yawning and letting out a tired laugh. "I think...I'm ready to collapse now." She hesitated before releasing him and beginning her sleepy trudging toward their own room for the night. The promise of sleep had become too tempting to fight off any longer. They ascended the way-too-many stairs, each step heavier than the last, and when they finally reached the room and opened the door, she paused before stepping entering.

She stared for a moment, feeling something tighten in her chest. When they had first arrived at Bess' inn, Isla had been adamant about having separate beds- afraid of letting her walls down and fearing that either might give in to temptation with the forced closeness that came with sharing a room. But now, sat in the center of the wall where those two beds once sat, was a large bed.

"Bess' idea?" She asked as she turned to face him, her exhaustion clear in the slouching of her shoulders and the dreamy haze in her eyes. But she took her time to kick off her shoes and make her way to the fireplace to warm up before beckoning him over to her.

"Help me out of this dress?"

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus watched her with a soft smile, his heart full as she spoke, each word making him feel more certain than ever that this was exactly where he was meant to be. He was still floating from their dance, from the warmth of her body pressed against his, from the tender sincerity in her voice when she said she loved him. Thank you for seeing something in me.

The words hit him in a way he hadn’t expected, settling deep into his chest. He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against hers for a moment. "I always saw you, Isla," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I saw everything. I always will."

When she began her sleepy trek toward their room, he followed quietly behind, the joy of their evening slowly giving way to a quiet, tender exhaustion. His hand found hers, fingers intertwining as they ascended together. They were both in the same haze of joy and fatigue, the world outside their little bubble fading as they reached their room.

He stepped inside, gazing around the room, noting the change. The bed. Her question echoed in his mind before he even registered it. Bess’ idea?

A soft chuckle escaped him, his eyes turning to Isla as he nodded, a twinkle in his gaze. "Definitely Bess’ idea," he agreed. "She can be rather...determined when she wants something."

As Isla made her way to the fireplace, her tiredness palpable in her every movement, Lynus stayed where he was for a moment, watching her. She was beautiful—more beautiful than he had ever imagined anyone could be.

When she beckoned him over, his heart swelled.. He stood close behind her, his fingers gently unbuttoning the delicate fabric of her dress, his movements tender as he carefully eased it off her shoulders. He could feel the heat of her skin beneath his touch, the softness of her body that had become so familiar to him in such a short time. As he worked the dress from her, his hands moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. Fingertips trailed down her arms and his lips peppered a slow trail of kisses along her shoulder to her neck as his hand settled atop her stomach, his chest swelling with warmth with every breath that rose and fell beneath his palm.

"I’ll spend every day of my life making sure you both know how loved you are. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I swear, I’ll never stop trying to be the man you see in me, for as long as I have the honour to do so.” he whispered.

 

[Isla]

Isla's throat tightened and she swallowed hard, refusing to let her tears spill. She lifted her hands, covering his with her own. Fingers trembled slightly and she lingered, letting them have a moment of quiet promise to one another. Her eyes shut and she leaned into him and the warmth of his touch on her skin.

"And I'll love you for it. Every day for the rest of my life." The stubborn part of her fought to argue, to tell him she was the one who was undeserving. To tell him that she should be the one trying to prove herself worthy of him. But, she didn't let it out. She would not sour the moment with her self doubt tonight, no.

When she finally pulled away, she turned towards him and searched his face. Her lips curved into a faint, tired, smile, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into her kiss. "Come to bed," She gripped his hand in hers, pulling him along to the bed that might rival Lynus' own.

Isla climbed in first, letting out a satisfied sigh the moment she settled into the plush pillows. Exhaustion still clung to her, but she did not allow it to take her yet. When he joined her, she nestled into his warmth, instinctively seeking his arms. She pulled him closer until he was hovering over her.

She tilted her face up, brushing her lips against his in a kiss that quickly deepened. An apology for the brief one he'd been given before she hurried to the bed. Beneath the weariness, there was still a hunger, a need to be connected with Lynus. She tugged at his own clothes that she hadn't given him time to remove. "Mrs. Anireth..." She broke the kiss, fiddling with a button. "Did I mention how much I love the sound of those words?"

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus’ smile softened as he watched her, his eyes dark with affection as she tugged at his shirt. He let out a small, appreciative laugh, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet of the room. His hand drifted to her face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he leaned down, forehead resting against hers.

“You did mention it a few times, Mrs. Anireth,” he teased, his voice tender and full of love. “But I don't mind you telling me a few more times..” He kissed her forehead gently before lifting his head to look into her eyes, the playfulness in his gaze deepening into something more sincere.

“But I should remind you of something else,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Your full title is Princess Mrs. Isla Starling Anireth” He leaned in, kissing her softly, his lips lingering just enough to speak between breaths.

His thumb brushed her cheek, and he took a slow breath, his heart swelling with an emotion he didn’t quite have words for. His hand moved to cover hers, still fiddling with his shirt, and he chuckled lowly. “But I have to warn you, Starling. Every time you say it, every time you remind me you’re my princess, I’ll want to kiss you like this…” He caught her lips again, his kiss searing and consuming, leaving no doubt about the truth of his words.

 

[Isla]

"My, that's a long name." Isla laughed, letting those words settle over her for the first time. A Princess. She was a fucking Princess.

She scowled at him when his hand covered hers and stopped her from getting the last button. "And? What if I want you to?" Her scowl softened into a smile just before his lips came crashing down on hers sending a warmth flooding through her body. Her face flushed and her lips parted to let him in. There was no hesitation in her hands as she released his shirt and trailed over his body, committing every part of him to memory.

The kiss deepened, unhurried but demanding while the rest of the world faded away and she looked at him as if he were the only thing in the world. He certainly was the most precious thing in her world. There were no lingering doubts. No worries of secrets they kept from the world. For once, it felt like everything might be okay.

She let him lead, chasing away her exhaustion until only a shared and unspoken need remained.

Eventually, they stilled and the only remaining sounds were the soft crackling of the fireplace mingling with the quiet sounds of their breath. Isla, barely able to keep her eyes open, pressed a soft kiss to Lynus' jaw before resting her head in the crook of his neck. She had fallen into a deep slumber before she could fully mumble a quiet goodnight.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus lay there for a moment, still catching his breath, his arms wrapped protectively around Isla as though the world outside didn’t exist. Her warmth, her softness, and the gentle rhythm of her breathing against his chest were all that mattered now. He glanced down at her, the faint glow of the firelight illuminating her face, peaceful and utterly serene.

A quiet smile tugged at his lips as she mumbled something barely audible, her words trailing off as sleep claimed her. He pressed a tender kiss to her temple, lingering as his hand gently caressed her back, a silent vow in every motion.

“Goodnight, Starling,” he whispered, his voice low and reverent.

His gaze traveled to the firelight flickering across the room, and for a moment, his heart tightened with gratitude—a quiet acknowledgment of how far they’d come. Isla, his Isla, had become his entire world. The thought of her falling asleep in his arms every night, of their child growing in the safety of her love, filled him with a warmth he hadn’t thought possible.

Adjusting slightly to keep his wife comfortably nestled against him, he let his fingers trail absentmindedly through her hair. His eyes grew heavy, but even as sleep began to pull at him, he remained anchored in this moment, holding her as though he could shield her from every storm.

Lynus closed his eyes, his breath steadying to match hers, and for the first time in a long while, the world felt right.

 

[Isla]

The fire had become nothing but embers by the time sunlight crept in through the curtains, casting a pale golden glow over the room. Isla woke first, as usual, still heavy with lingering exhaustion from the previous day’s excitement. She stretched her arms above her, contorting her body to alleviate whatever ache had stuck with her after dancing for far too many hours.

Isla looked beside her and Lynus stirred, wrapping his arm tighter around her. She wished they could stay there forever, wrapped up in their little secret sanctuary. She considered staying in bed a little while longer, but the weight of reality pressed on her. Peace would come in due time. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow. Eventually.

“Good morning, Prince.” She murmured, stroking his hair softly to wake him up. She could hear the carriage outside already, waiting to bring their Prince back home. And their Princess, unbeknownst to them. Her smile softened when he began to wake. Her other hand settled on the stubble on his face, fingers gently trailing along the rough hair. “Lynussssss…” She trailed off when he refused to get up initially. “Wake up, my Prince. I can hear your guards getting irritated outside.” How long had they been there? She wondered.

Getting dressed had proved more difficult than getting undressed. She was convinced there were roughly a hundred buttons along the back of her dress and neither her nor Lynus were able to get them all secured until a guard mentioned coming upstairs to retrieve the Prince himself. With that threat, Isla and Lynus left the inn.

The morning air was still cool and Isla was grateful for the breeze, pulling the scent of whatever Bess was cooking away from her as they loaded in the carriage. Though her features had paled, she was annoyed with the persistent queasiness that plagued her like an unwanted companion. From the moment it began, it had been unrelenting.

The closed space and jostling of the carriage did not help. She spent the majority of their ride with her eyes shut, hands in tight fists by her side and her head leaned against the cushioned back of the seat. She breathed in and out, focusing on the rhythm of the horses on the road. “Gods.” She muttered quietly to herself, wondering why it hadn’t been so difficult the first time around. She had to consider it might be some higher power punishing her for what had happened to her first child.

After some time, she broke the silence between them with a question she had not wanted to ask. “What are we going to do about Bexley?”

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus exhaled sharply at Isla's question, the edge of his irritation unmistakable. “Let me worry about Bexley,” he replied, his voice clipped. The woman had undoubtedly known about his father’s plans to force an engagement.

The towering gates of the keep loomed ahead, its walls casting long shadows as they arrived. Lynus’s hand in hers offered a reassuring squeeze. They had scarcely stepped out of the carriage when a cluster of guards approached, their expressions tense.

“The King and Queen request your immediate presence,” one of them announced, leaving no room for argument.

Lynus nodded, his jaw tightening. Ignoring the guards’ scrutiny, he laced his fingers with Isla’s and led her through the corridors, their footsteps echoing ominously off the stone walls.

In the throne room, the air was thick with tension. The King stood as they entered, his gaze narrowing as it fell on his son and Isla. Their faint dishevelment of their formal attire and the absence of courtly decorum did not go unnoticed. The Queen’s brows lifted slightly, her expression unreadable as the murmurs of advisors faded into silence.

“Where have you been!?” the King’s voice thundered, reverberating through the chamber. He took a step forward, his tone as sharp as a blade. “You were meant to be here. Guests gathered for the announcement of your engagement—”

“An engagement I neither proposed nor agreed to. One I still refuse." Lynus interrupted, his voice cold and firm.

The King’s face darkened, his anger mounting. “I have had enough of this!” he bellowed, the veins in his neck straining. “You will do as I command, Lynus. Lady Pirian is a good match, and if you must, you can keep your whore—”

“Speak of my wife in that way again,” Lynus cut in, his voice low and dangerous, “and I cannot be held accountable for my actions.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. The echoes of Lynus’s words seemed to linger, heavy and unyielding. The King stared at his son, his face a mixture of disbelief and seething rage. The Queen’s hand rose to her chest, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. And yet, on her lips was the faintest tremble of a smile.

“What did you say?” the King asked, his voice quieter but no less sharp.

“You heard me.” Lynus squared his shoulders, his hand still firmly holding Isla’s. “We married. Isla is my wife. The one I chose. She is a Princess of Aniria, and you will show her the respect she deserves.”

The weight of his declaration settled over the room like a storm. Lynus stood resolute, his gaze unwavering as he faced his father’s wrath, a protector and husband unyielding in the defense of his love.

The King’s face darkened further, his expression teetering between outrage and incredulity. "You what?" the King spat, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. "You dare to defy me, your King, and marry a commoner in secret? Without consent? Without witness? This—this is treasonous, Lynus!"

Lynus squared his shoulders, his jaw tightening as he held his father’s gaze with unwavering determination. "I need no consent and there were witnesses. I am not your pawn to marry off as you see fit, nor will I allow Isla to be diminished to nothing more than an inconvenience in your plans. She is not a commoner, as you well know. Now, if it is treason that I have committed then arrest me." he growled, knowing well enough that his father wouldn't dare.

The Queen, who had remained quiet, took a hesitant step forward. Her hand trembled as she reached for Lynus, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "Is it true?" she whispered, her voice softer, imploring as she looked between them both. "Lynus, Isla, you’ve truly married?"

"Yes, Mother," he said, his voice steady though a shade gentler than before. "She is my wife in the eyes of the gods and the law. She is the woman I love."

A murmur rippled through the advisors at this revelation, though none dared speak aloud. The Queen’s gaze shifted to Isla, scrutinising her with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. Her lips curled into a soft before she inclined her head slightly, as if acknowledging the truth Lynus had declared. Acknowledging Isla as the royalty that she was.

"Then we must make the announcement. We must celebrate." the Queen said, reaching for Isla's hand.

The King, however, erupted. "This cannot stand! This—this mockery of royal obligation will be undone at once! The union annulled, the girl sent away—"

"No," Lynus interrupted, his voice calm but firm, carrying an air of authority that demanded silence. "There will be no annulment. Isla is not just my wife; she is your daughter-in-law, and you will accept her as such. To cast her aside would disgrace not only me but the crown you wear. Dare to conspire behind our backs again, and I will take the crown from your head myself.." he warned.

 

[Isla]

Letting Lynus deal with Bexley alone terrified her, but so did the thought of exposing herself and their child to whatever unknown magic the Dreadlord harnessed. "Fine," she settled back into her seat as they approached the gates. Despite her unfounded hostility towards the woman who may or may not have had anything to do with the engagement, she tacked on a quiet "But be gentle. Don't get yourself hurt."

---

The corridor felt endless, the echoes of footsteps overwhelming when met with the looming anxiety over what the King and Queen had summoned the both of them for. Had they discovered, so quickly, what they had done in secrecy? Had the physician ratted her out, painting her as some power hungry whore who had slept her way into a court after her family was disgraced? Thoughts brewed and Isla kept her gaze locked ahead, forcing her breathing into something steady as they entered through the grand doors.

"Your Majesties," Isla greeted the two with a polite bow only moments before the King began his tirade.

She jumped as the King's voice thundered through the room, grabbing Lynus' arm with both of her hands to keep him near her. He didn't glance back at her, eyes locked onto the King, unyielding when the word whore was shot towards her like an arrow. The faces of the advisors conveyed similar disgust to the King's, aimed at her until Lynus silenced the room.

My wife.

Isla froze, her shock quickly melting into a mess of anxiety. She had not planned for this, for anyone to know of their secret union. But Lynus' declaration left no room for interpretation. Eyes focused on her, and she met each pair with a confidence that she did not feel. She wanted to disappear, to retreat to the empty place she knew better than herself.

Is it true? Lynus, Isla, you've truly married?

Panic swelled in Isla's chest and she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. A quick nod was all she managed, pulling herself closer to Lynus until his mother reached out for her hand, declaring this a time to be celebrated.

I will take the crown from your head myself.

Lynus had drawn his line in the sand.

He pulled free from her grasp, rejecting his father's orders with a threat that sent the room into a deadly silence. Even the Queen clutched Isla's hand a little tighter, nails digging into her skin.

"Lynus, please-" She was cut off.

"You would betray your bloodline and your legacy for some whore." The King's voice snapped, cracking like a whip as the direction of his fury changed targets. "A stain on this family's name. A whore with no lineage, no titles, no value in this kingdom thinks she can warm a bed and be called a Princess?" He laughed, gesturing towards her with a dismissive wave. "My son threatens me over a distraction in low-cut gowns, propped up by my son's fleeting lust. This is the one my son defies me for."

Laughter and murmurs rippled from the corners of the room. Her cheeks burned, but she remained silent and refused to defend herself. The King pressed on, each word dripping with the disdain she had come to know too well within the Keep.

"You will bring nothing but ruin to my son. To this family. To Aniria. And when he tires of your inadequacy-"

"Randall." The Queen glared at the King.

"Lynus, do you believe this woman capable of bearing you heirs fit to rule? Do you believe their tainted blood will ever be accepted by nobility and the people of Aniria? This is a mockery of your duties."

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus’s grip on Isla’s hand tightened, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His father’s words echoed in the vast chamber, each one a fresh wound. He could feel the ripple of tension in Isla beside him, see the faint quiver in her form despite her valiant attempt to appear unshaken. He had endured his father’s wrath for years, but this—this attack on Isla—was too far.

“That’s enough.” His voice cut through the murmurs like a blade, low and deliberate, yet carrying an undeniable authority. He turned his piercing gaze on the King, unflinching. “If you think you can stand there and belittle my wife, humiliate her before your court, and have me bow to you like an obedient dog, then you don’t know me at all.”

The laughter and whispers ceased, leaving an oppressive silence in their wake. Lynus stepped forward, leaving Isla in the gentle care of his mother who petted her hand. "Pay him no mind, my dear. Why don't we go have some tea.." she suggested fretfully.

“Isla is more than capable of bearing heirs fit to rule, not that her worth should ever be reduced to such a thing,” Lynus continued, his voice rising with conviction. “She has strength unmatched by anyone in this room, a mind sharper than any advisor you’ve ever employed, and a heart capable of inspiring a kingdom to follow her. Her blood is untainted, Father. It is pure in a way that no amount of titles or lineage could ever replicate.”

His gaze flicked briefly to the Queen, who stood frozen in place, her expression unreadable, before locking back on the King.

“You speak of legacy, of duty, yet you fail to see that I choose her, not in spite of your expectations, but because she is everything this family and this kingdom needs. Where you see a stain, I see the brightest thread in the fabric of Aniria’s future."

The King opened his mouth to speak, but Lynus raised a hand to stop him, daring him to interrupt.

“As for nobility—” Lynus’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Their acceptance is irrelevant. Their respect is earned, and Isla will have it because I will ensure it. And if they do not see her value, then they are as blind and narrow-minded as you.”

The King’s face darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes. Lynus pressed closer, his tone dropping into something colder, more resolute. The guards beside his father settled their hands on the hilts of their swords.

“Let me make myself perfectly clear. Isla is my wife. The future Queen. She is your daughter-in-law. And she will never be anything less than the Princess of Aniria. If anyone—anyone—dares to suggest otherwise, they will answer to me.” His voice dropped to a near growl. “That includes you, Father.”

The air in the room felt stifling, charged with tension as the King and Lynus locked eyes. If his father sought to break him, he would find nothing but stone.

The Queen held Isla’s hand tighter, her delicate fingers trembling slightly as emotion welled within her. She looked up at Lynus, her son, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she saw him again—the boy she had raised to be kind and unyielding, the man she had prayed would find his strength again. Tears filled her eyes, and though her lips trembled, a radiant smile broke through as pride swelled in her chest.

She stepped forward, standing beside her son and Isla, and for the first time, she did not seek her husband’s permission to speak.

“Enough, Randall,” she said softly, yet her voice carried the unmistakable weight of a Queen. The King turned to her, his scowl deepening, but she met his gaze with a steel he could not ignore. “Do you not see it? Our son has made his choice—not out of rebellion, but out of love. Out of wisdom. Out of the strength you claim to value so highly.”

Her gaze softened as it shifted to Isla. The Queen reached out, cupping Isla’s hand in both of hers, her smile unwavering. “Isla is exactly what this family needs. What you need, Lynus. I see it now, as clearly as the sun in the sky.”

Turning her attention back to the court, the Queen straightened her shoulders, her regal presence filling the room. “You call this woman unworthy, Randall?” Her voice grew firmer. “Then you blind yourself to what is truly valuable. Titles and lineage mean nothing if they do not come with honour, with heart, with loyalty. And from what I see, Isla has all of these in abundance. She has stood by our son when we could not. She has brought him back to us.”

Her voice softened, turning tender as her eyes landed on Lynus once more. “He is whole again because of her. He is himself again because of her. And I will not stand by while you, or anyone, tries to take that away.”

The Queen turned to the advisors, her commanding tone leaving no room for dissent. “This union is not a scandal; it is a cause for celebration. Lynus and Isla are married, and as their Queen, I accept their union. I expect the rest of you to do the same.”

She returned her attention to her husband, her expression firm but not unkind. “You may be King, Randall, but even you cannot command the heart. Lynus has chosen his path, and as his mother, I am proud of him for it. Continue with this now, and you risk losing him entirely and I for one will never forgive you for it, so please, be careful."

The room fell into a tense silence, the court stunned by the Queen’s unwavering support. She released Isla’s hand only to place it back into Lynus’s, holding them both together, her gaze steady as she addressed the pair.

“Do not let anyone steal your joy,” she said softly, her voice full of quiet strength. “Not even a King.”

 

[Isla]

Even Isla barely managed more than a stunned silence as the humiliation of the King’s words rained down on her, leaving behind nothing but the oily disgust when she realized they might be true. The Queen patted her hand, attempting to lure her away from the spectacle, but Isla remained locked in place trying to retreat to a place in her mind where their laughter didn’t pierce her soul. But Lynus…

Lynus rebuked the King, rebuked his own court and in turn, began to chip away at the barriers she put up around herself to protect herself. She had been naive to think them any different to the men who wandered in and out of her bed. To everyone, she was an object, a toy to play with and control. Something to mock and belittle, without worry of retaliation because retaliation was impossible when you were nothing.

To everyone, but Lynus, that was.

Tears welled in her eyes. Isla gripped the Queen’s hand tighter and refused to let her emotions boil over in front of them all. She didn’t have to glance beside her to know the Queen and her shared in their feelings. The boy that had been missing from their lives was the boy which Isla had only known him to be. Kind and fiercely loyal to whomever he loved. She could see the pain in his eyes when he shouted at his father, a similar glint in his father’s eyes. One came from a need for duty, the other for love, and they had both been lost in communication.

It was something the Queen seemed to realize quickly- that this was not an act of defiance by Lynus. He was not spitting in the faces of all his ancestors before him. This was not some magnificent ‘fuck you’ to his father for how he had been treated when his own life, Selena, had been taken from him. And this was certainly not how she could have ever imagined this scenario would go with the King. In fact, from the moment he had proposed, the eventual need to tell his parents had been looming over her like those dark rainclouds that followed them to the gazebo. She had planned what she might say, plotted, and mentally scrapped a million possibilities- none of which would ever result in the Queen standing beside them, holding their hands together while she supported their union before an audience with the King and her court.

Do not let anyone steal your joy. Not even a King.

Isla swiped at her eyes with her free hand and mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to the Queen. She pulled Lynus into a tight embrace, hiding the tears flowing freely now. “What does she mean by celebrate? I hope it includes a long nap because I am exhausted.” She mumbled into his ear.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

The King’s words faltered and died in the air, the look on his face one of disbelief—something deeper, almost like shame—as he stared at the unified trio before him. Lynus stood firm, his posture unwavering, a silent challenge hanging between them. He dared his father to speak again, to utter even a single word that might wound Isla or himself. But the King, for the first time in as long as Lynus could remember, remained silent. Without another word, he stood from his throne, motioned for his guards, and left the room in a cold, defeated silence.

Lynus wrapped his arms around Isla, pulling her close as a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding shuddered free from him. A quiet laugh, almost too soft to be real, escaped him at her question. “We’ll talk about that later,” he whispered, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

When he lifted his gaze to his mother, he saw her, poised on the edge of something—her joy and emotion so close to spilling over it was almost too much to contain. Her eyes glistened with the weight of unsaid words, yet there was nothing but pride in them, nothing but love for the choices he and Isla had made.

"Thank you," Lynus said, his voice low and sincere.

The Queen shook her head, her hand coming to rest on both his and Isla’s shoulders with a quiet firmness that spoke of years of unspoken support. “No, my dear,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m just... so happy for you both. I only wish I could have been there, to see this.. But now...” She paused, as if searching for the right words.

"I am very proud to call you my daughter-in-law, Isla.. And of you, Lynus, for standing up for her so fiercely. Believe it or not, you sound very much like your father once did.." she shook her head with a sigh. "Everything will be alright. I promise."

“Go,” she urged softly, brushing away a tear. “Go and rest. Celebrate later, when you’re ready. Let me worry about your father, and all this Pirian nonsense. For now, you just... be together.” she smiled warmly.

 

[Isla]

Isla was still in Lynus' arms when she flinched, hearing the heavy doors slam shut behind the King. The sound reverberated throughout the hall, warring with the hammering of her heart in her chest. He had done it. He had stood up to his father, defied his word, and claimed her as his wife in front of his court.

She leaned into him as he held her tight, inhaling the comforting scent of his skin. Her arms tightened around his waist, only pulling away when his mother placed a hand on each of their shoulders. She swiped a stray tear that had escaped her eyes when the Queen spoke.

She wanted to respond, to say something more than a sniffling thank you, but was quickly shushed with the Queen's demands. Go and rest. Celebrate later. Isla reached out and held onto the Queen's hand. For the first time since she arrived, she felt like she might really have an ally outside of Lynus, Sarah, and Arryn most of the time.

Nodding, Isla found herself unable to find any more words before the Queen turned, her skirts sweeping along the marble floor as she strode through the same door the King had exited through. And when the door finally shut, she exhaled and released a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding on to.

"Gods." She whispered as they walked through winding corridors to his -their- chambers. "I felt like I was going to collapse the whole time. You...you are incredible."

---

Weeks after the confrontation passed quietly. Lynus and Isla had spent most of their time in their chambers where they were shielded from the prying eyes of those unfortunate enough to have been caught in that meeting. His mother, not to Isla's surprise, seemed to have made good on her promises. Isla had not heard anything of what was transpiring with her husband or Bexley while in the quiet peace of their little sanctuary.

Peace was not without complication, however. Her body reminded her daily of the secret they both kept from even their closest friends. Her nausea had become relentless, impossible to hide, especially when maids came in with trays of food that only served to make her stomach churn. This morning was no different, however, Isla managed to nibble at some dry bread that Sarah had left for her. It didn't stay down long. Isla had barely made it to the basin in time, like most days, gripping the edges as she fought the waves of sickness.

When she finished, she cleaned up and frowned at her reflection in their mirror. Fatigue, like the nausea, clung to her like a shadow. Both, fighting for dominance in how shitty they made her look. Too skinny, she noted as she pinched her skin, dressing for the day in her training leathers. She may have been unwell, but she could no longer push off her training. Bexley still lurked somewhere, and Isla was not ready to show just how weak and helpless she felt.

"Morning," She kissed Lynus on the cheek before turning to lace up her shoes. "Did you sleep well?"

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus stirred when he heard the soft sounds of Isla moving around the room, the faint creak of leather as she dressed pulling him from the edge of sleep. He didn’t open his eyes immediately, instead waiting until he felt her press a kiss to his cheek. A soft smile tugged at his lips before he reached out to her.

“Isla,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but warm. He sat up slightly and pulled her against him. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his hand resting over the slight curve of her stomach, his palm settling there as if it were second nature. “Good morning,” he grumbled.

His fingers traced slow circles over her stomach as he spoke, his voice quieter now. “I know you don't like it.. But you should try Mabel's anti-sickness tea.." he frowned with concern, kissing along her jaw, stopping when he noticed the boots she was lacing.

"Where are you going?" his brow quirked.

 

[Isla]

Isla released her foot, falling backward into Lynus' arms and landing with a quiet 'oof' as she hit his chest. A quiet laugh escaped her lips when his chin ticked the sensitive spot along her neck. Her hand drifted on top of his, a grounding mixture of comfort that made her feel much better than she had only a few minutes prior while she fought to keep just one meal down.

"I know, I know." She hesitated, frowning at the mention of this anti-sickness tea that had been offered to her nearly daily since they returned to the Keep. Memories of another tea, of another time, still haunted her. The bitter taste of black licorice flooded her mouth, the sound of her protests ignored.

Isla shook her head. "I'll consider it, but its not that bad. And its supposed to get less bad...someday." She shrugged, returning to her boots.

Where are you going?

"Just training." She admitted, feeling his fingers twitch against her stomach, likely preparing for a lecture. "I have avoided Arryn too long. And because we have not told him a thing, I know he and Brett are going to begin mocking me for being lazy and getting fat." She laughed, pulled from his arms to grab the other shoe that was still on the ground, out of reach. "I won't push myself too hard, I promise."

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus watched as Isla pulled away from him, the warmth of her presence lingering in his arms even as she reached for her other boot. He ran a hand through his messy hair, exhaling slowly to steady himself. There was a delicate balance he’d need to strike, one that wouldn’t end with her storming out the door.

“Isla,” he started, his voice calm but firm, “you know I respect how strong and capable you are. You’ve handled so much more than most people could ever imagine, and you’ve done it all without letting anyone hold you back.”

He sat up, reaching gently for her face so he could meet her gaze. His expression softened.. “But you’re not just thinking about yourself anymore. It’s not just about whether you’re ready to get back to training or what Arryn might say to you. There’s more at stake now, and I’m not willing to take the risk of something happening to you—or to them.” His free hand rested gently on her stomach as he spoke.

“I know you won’t like hearing this, and I don’t blame you, but I can’t let you go. Not to spar with Arryn, not to anything that could endanger you right now.” His thumb brushed over her jaw as he added, “I know it feels like I’m trying to stop you from doing what you want, but this is me trying to protect you both. Please, Isla, just… take it easy, at least for now.”

He offered a small smile, trying to ease the tension he could already see building. “I’ll handle Arryn and Brett. Let them say what they want. Besides,” he added, a teasing lilt in his voice, “you’ve got the best excuse in the world to skip a few sessions. Let me spoil you a little instead.”

 

[Isla]

"Hmm?" She looked back at Lynus when he started, a curious brow raised when he seemed to be tip-toeing around what he wanted to say. Isla stepped forward toward him, abandoning the boot she had yet to lace up on the floor. Starting with compliments? She felt herself begin to worry, waiting for whatever inevitable bad news he had to drop. It always did with Isla.

Her posture visible stiffened while she waited, but whatever argument she had begun to mentally prepare for never came. There was only a gentle plea from Lynus and a demand that Isla refrain from her training for now. "Lynus," She sighed quietly, allowing him to rest his hand gently over the barely-there swell of her stomach. She was convinced its presence was a consequence of the few days she had been able to eat without sickness. Days she had eaten both of their portions of food and then some.

She opened her mouth to argue, but the tenderness of his touch and the desperation in his voice stopped her. Her hand instinctively covered his and she looked down to where their hands rested together, over something so small that carried so much hope and all of her fear.

"You know I'm not going to break so easily," She felt herself laugh, wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him against her chest. "But, if it means that much to you, I will take it easy for a while longer. Within reason. I'm not going to stop going on walks in the garden because I could get stung by a bee or playing with Duke because he sometimes nips me when he's playing." She swayed gently back and forth. "I would love to know what you intend to tell Arryn and Brett, though."

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus exhaled a soft laugh, his tension easing as Isla pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. “I don’t expect you to stop doing any of those things,” he said with a grin. “I think Duke would revolt if you ignored him, and I’m not about to be responsible for unleashing that chaos. But I do think drawing a line at sparring is reasonable, no? It’s not like I’m asking you to sit on a cushion all day.”

He tilted his head, his brow quirking in playful defiance as his lips twisted into a mischievous smile. “Besides, we have our honeymoon to think about. And I’d rather not spend it nursing bruises.” he rumbled into the crook of her neck.

Lynus pressed a kiss to her cheek, his hand still resting protectively on her stomach. "I'll take you somewhere, just the two of us.. By the time we come back, well, I doubt you'll be hiding much from them." his cheek dimpled.

 

[Isla]

Isla sighed, swaying gently in his arms. "I suppose it is not unreasonable to stop sparring, no..." She admitted, though the words left her feeling a hint of anxiety. "At least until after the baby is born."

Her grip on him tightened slightly. "Still," she hesitated, "I can't help but worry what might happen if you or Arryn aren't here. I spend a lot of time alone when you are busy and I can't shake this feeling that someone...Bexley...might corner me when I'm defenseless."

Her name tasted bitter on Isla's tongue. She hadn't even met the girl yet, but still her shadow loomed over every corner of the Keep. The breaking of their engagement had yet to reveal any real consequence, aside from some snide remarks and anger from the King. Isla couldn't help but feel like they were just waiting for something to explode, for someone to get hurt, as punishment for the public embarrassment. It was an unspoken threat that Isla couldn't ignore.

Temporary relief washed over Isla when she saw the playful smirk on Lynus' face and sudden talk of a honeymoon. Her frown melted away and she relaxed in his arms. "Okay, yes, I do think it would be a bit of a damper if I could barely move from how hard I trained." She laughed, imagining the sight of her the day after the first training session. She was so much more unskilled and so sore the following day that she had to cancel. The first of many times she would bail on Arryn.

By the time we come back, well, I doubt you'll be hiding much from them.

Isla snorted, "I really hope I can hide it still." From Arryn and Brett, from everyone.

"Back to the honeymoon," Isla climbed up into the bed, training leathers and all, and leaned back on the pillows beside him. "Is there anywhere you have been wanting to visit?" She looked over at him. "I think I'd like to go somewhere warm and sunny. Somewhere with sand, and sea, and music..." She smiled softly. "Somewhere far away with no gossiping, snooty, nobles. Somewhere we can leave everything behind, just for a little while."