Islo groaned as he tried to do as the doctor instructed, putting more weight on his bad leg.

"My lord, you need to work up the muscles in this leg. I know it hurts, but if you don't start training, it will never heal properly."

My husband clenched his jaw and nodded. He held tightly onto my arm, using me as support.

"Just a little more and then we're done," I said as I leaned towards him, making him use his bad leg just a little more as we walked back and forth in the sitting room.

"I can't," he groaned and latched onto me. "It's like I'm getting stabbed repeatedly."

"It is also because you have not used your leg, my Lord. If a body part goes unused for too long, the muscles will deteriorate," the doctor said and knelt down in front of my husband. "You can see it on the size of your thighs. One is bigger than the other."

It wasn't enough Islo had to limp around, he had to do it without his trousers on, so the doctor could get a proper look at how his legs looked compared to each other. And it was true. His left leg was looking slimmer and slimmer the longer he used a cane and didn't properly use his leg.

"We'll have to do more exercises then," I said and put my shoulder in my husband's armpit, helping him back to the sofa.

He grabbed the backrest, standing on one leg and nodded. "Yeah, I'll try. But it's... Doc, it's so painful."

"You had a very bad... Fall," the doctor said and grimaced. "It will take time and you will most likely need a cane for the rest of your life. But if you do the exercises, I gave you, you might not be in as much pain."

Islo nodded and clenched his jaw.

"I'd recommend you tried out swimming to work up the muscles in your leg but... I don't know if there are any facilities for it within the stronghold." The doctor shrugged a bit.

"There is not," I muttered. "Unless you count the lakes in the garden."

"When it becomes warm enough outside, try it out. It's much easier to exercise where you don't have to walk."

Islo nodded again, still grasping the backrest hard. The doctor glanced at me and I shrugged a shoulder.

"Thank you, doctor. Truly." I touched my forehead and he did the same, leaving me with my husband.

I went to him and helped him back to bed without a word. I got him settled against the soft pillows, grabbed his lotion and pulled his shirt up, so I could massage his thigh.

He didn't say anything. He only kept clenching his jaw and I knew he was fighting the tears back. He didn't want to cry despite how much pain he was in. And it killed me. I just wanted him to be alright, but a lot of his pride had died the day he was told he'd never be able to walk without a limp.

"How does it feel?" I asked after having massaged his skin for a while.

He nodded and finally unclenched his jaw, taking a deep breath. "Good."

"I'm glad. I hope it's as good for you as it is for me." I flicked my eyes up, meeting his gaze.

He smiled a little and then the tension in his body disappeared. "Considering how much you love my thighs I think you might be enjoying this too much."

I snorted and looked back down at his thigh. It was horribly scarred both from the torture and the following surgeries. But gods, his skin was still the best thing in the world. And his thighs were still so soft but with a hard muscle hiding beneath a good layer of fat. It was like a perfect combination of soft and hard.

"I just like touching you," I breathed and put a little more weight on his thigh, as I dug my fingers into his skin.

He groaned softly and twitched a bit. "Not so hard, Sweetness. And a little further up."

I moved up a little further, smoothing the lotion into his skin. But I didn't exactly linger. I went up further until I hit something that was anything but soft.

I leaned forward, my mouth right next to his ear. "I want you in me," I whispered and Islo's hands had never moved faster. He grabbed my ass, sliding me up into his lap and then he pulled my shirt over my head.

He was determined as never before. It didn't take long before I was moaning, holding onto his shoulders as his fingers slid in and out of me. We both needed this. We desperately needed to pretend there was some kind of normalcy. Where Islo's leg didn't hurt and where I wasn't so afraid all the damn time.

It probably wasn't the best method, but we were desperate. Desperate to forget even for a moment. Our son helped with that a lot, but we also needed this time alone.

I rose to my knees and Islo held himself in the right position so I could easily sit down on him. His fingers dug into my thigh and he forcibly pushed air out between his clenched teeth.

"Gods," he groaned and grabbed the back of my neck, getting me to lean in and kiss him. I was so hungry for him, my tongue almost desperately pushing back at his.

I was moving slowly up and down and Islo was groaning in the same tempo. It was so intense I could barely take it, but I would stop for nothing in the world at the same time. I just needed this connection to my husband. Desperately so.

He didn't move or try and steer me in any direction. He just circled his arms around me and pressed his forehead to my chest as I went a little faster. And then one hand slid down my stomach and circled around me.

I couldn't stop myself from finishing right then and there. I had been so close for a while, but feeling his hot breath against my chest and him touching me... It was too much. I could barely move but Islo got me to move a little more. And he also moved under me, or tried to. He couldn't move much with his thigh and all, but it didn't seem like it mattered. He finished just the same and almost crushed my body to his.

His hair was slick with sweat and I could feel my own stick to my forehead and neck. We were both panting a storm and I wasn't sure if we'd recover from this anytime soon.

But Islo pulled back and looked up at me, beckoning me to kiss him. I did, feather softly.

"You're amazing," he murmured against my lips.

I smiled. "You're not too bad yourself, Mr av Stál."

He snorted and leaned back, his gaze bouncing over my body. "You're a magnificent sight."

I felt heat rise in my face and I grinned a bit goofily. I didn't know what to say to that. He was so serious as he cupped my cheek, getting me to look at him.

"I love you," he said very seriously.

We'd tell each other we loved each other daily. Several times a day. But this felt different than a lot of other times. This was the god-honest truth and not just a sweet thing to say.

"I love you too," I said just as seriously.

We both needed to hear this, I reckoned. Just to reassure each other that we were in this for life. This wasn't just a fling. We were married, bonded. Forever.

He smiled then and ran a finger over the tattoo on my arm. "They still look magnificent."

I chuckled and looked down at the line he was tracing. "The tattoo artist was good. Despite the distractions."

Islo laughed and leaned in, kissing my throat. "I was at my best behaviour. I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you terrible flirt." I ran a hand up in his hair, keeping his lips on my throat. My skin was crazy sensitive right then and I wanted more kisses.

"I couldn't wait for you to be finished."

"Me neither. Also because that hurts a lot more than you'd think."

"Maybe I'll get a tattoo. With your name in it."

I laughed out loud and dumped down beside him, getting him to scoot down so we could cuddle. I was fast to move on top of his chest, slapping an arm over him. Also so he could keep tracing the tattoos. Which he did.

"You are the simply most handsome little boy in the world," I said softly as I fed my son. "You will one day rule this country, you know. You'll be king, just like me. You'll find someone who loves you as much as your father loves me to rule our country together. If you're lucky, you'll one day have a little child of your own that you'll tell all of these things to too."

He didn't pay me any attention at all, as he just kept calmly eating. We were alone in the bedroom, giving us both a bit of privacy. I felt it was important both Islo and I were alone with our son from time to time. So he could form bonds with both of us, even without each other present. I also liked having him to myself a little. Just looking at him, finding more ways we looked alike. I loved how much he looked like me. He'd never grow up without anyone who looked like him, like I had. He wouldn't feel like an outsider in his own family.

"I love you so much, Àlvar. You'll never go a day without feeling loved, I promise."

He finished his bottle and I put him on my chest, rubbing his back so he could burp. He was still so small and precious. So little and fragile and entirely unsullied by any of the ugly things in the world. This apartment and the gardens were his world. His fathers, his sister and Barr were his world. Such a small thing with such a small world.

I'd keep him this small and secluded forever if I could, but I also knew he had to see the world. To know how to rule it, he had to see it. And so did I. When this was over, I'd take him on trips. Together we'd visit every corner of our nation, talk to the different people, and learn their ways.

"We'll both grow and learn so much, Àlvar," I murmured.

A small burp made it out of his mouth, and I chuckled. I put his head on my arm, careful of supporting it properly. He smiled up at me, jerking his arms up and down as he kicked his little fat legs.

"Happy little boy," I chuckled and kissed his forehead. "Why are you always so happy after you've eaten?"

He blabbered something and kicked his legs again. He had the cutest little voice and he was using it more and more. He barely ever cried, he just laughed and talked a lot. Had so much to say.

"Yes, I hear you," I murmured and rose from the bed, going to the sitting room. Islo was helping Isla with some of her homework, them sitting by the dinner table next to each other.

"Hey," Islo said and looked up.

Àlvar replied something and my husband snorted.

"Hello to you too, Àlvar."

Isla looked up too and smiled. "He's talking a lot."

"Yeah, the boy has so much to say these days. I wonder what he's trying to tell us." I sat down on the opposite side of the table, holding Àlvar so he could see the rest of his little family.

"Maybe that he shat his pants," Isla said.

Islo raised his eyebrows at his daughter. "Isla, that's..." He couldn't even finish his sentence before he broke out laughing. He quickly composed himself though. "Little princesses shouldn't talk like that."

"You talk like that," she shot back and raised an eyebrow at him.

"You do, Islo," I chimed in and handed Àlvar his soft cloth. He put it in his mouth and flicked his dark brown eyes up at me, smiling as he munched on the soft fabric.

"I do not. I have never said shat in my life. I would never." He pointed his nose to the ceiling, looking extraordinarily snobbish.

Isla sent me a look and I bit down a smile. "How's the maths going?"

"It's alright. I like history better."

"Which is your favourite story?" I asked and repositioned Àlvar a little. He was too busy to care, flailing the cloth around now.

"I like the stories of Marin the Wise. She was amazing. She was the one who conquered Skyen."

Islo cleared his throat. "Well, she definitely ruled with an iron fist, that's for sure."

"And she could read minds too, did you know that? That's how she got so powerful. She always knew everyone's next move."

"So she was like me. And Barr," I said.

"Yeah, that's why I find her so fascinating. She was your great-grandmother and you have her power too. That's amazing."

I couldn't help but smile. Isla's favourite story was about someone who was like me. And it was because she was like me, she liked it the best. I needed to not be weird about this. I didn't want to make it weird. I desperately wanted to build that bridge to her still. She was in my family now. She saw Àlvar as her little brother.

"He is eating well?" the doctor asked as he examined Àlvar.

"Very. Eats about every three hours and finishes the whole bottle every time," I said rather proudly. Was it weird to be proud of one's child eating well?

"He's growing fast too," the doctor noted. He put Àlvar on his stomach and Àlvar laughed, lifting his body up with his arms. "He can even support his own head now. And lift himself up. And he's kicking his legs a lot, I've been told?"

"Yes, lots of kicking. He loves it when we put him on his feet too." I smiled at my son as he started crawling towards me. He grabbed onto my trouser-leg and I pulled him off the floor. He sat in my lap and happily drummed on my arms.

"And he looks very happy too. Does he interact with you? Reacts to your voice?"

I nodded. "It was a bit of an issue in the beginning. We couldn't talk at all while we fed him because he got too distracted. But now he just looks at us and continues. He still reacts to when we talk to him though. Holds good eye contact too."

The doctor smiled as Àlvar babbled. "He's developing fast. It's good to see. Have you noticed any other... Developments?"

"No," I breathed. "Not yet."

"So we don't know if he is special like you?"

I shook my head. "Not yet," I repeated.

"What's most important is that he is healthy. Which he is. He seems like a very happy and healthy little boy. This is good, Your Highness. It's very good, actually."

"Did you expect a different result?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I've been the royal physician for a lot years, Your Highness. I'm always worried about the children in the royal family. You do not live normal lives."

I looked down at Àlvar and shook my head. "No, we do not."

"I was yours too, when you were little."

I nodded. "I remember."

"You were much like your son at his age. But your son is more fortunate. He is not being raised by nannies. His parents are here with him. It means something to children to form close bonds to their parents from a very early age. What you're doing with your son is right. Being so hands-on with raising him, both you and your husband."

"He's a lovely father, my husband. So soft around his children."

The doctor smiled again. "He does seem like a very strong man. Even despite his injuries, he has carried on."

"Yeah."

"Are you alright? You have had sizeable injuries as well."

I opened the palm of my hand and looked down at the scar. "It's alright, I manage."

"There's no pain?"

I bit down on my lip. My hands would ache sometimes. I wasn't sure if it was just in my head or real anymore.

"Your Highness, pain is not a sign of weakness. You have been through a lot and so has your body. You will need time to recover as well."

I nodded. Àlvar's hand slid into mine, covering the scar. My little boy would heal me. I'd heal for him. I didn't want the ugliness inside of me, the ugly things that had happened to ever resurface and be shown to my boy. He would never know of any of it.

I kissed his head and he laughed gleefully.

"He is a very sweet boy. I can see why you're so enthralled by him." The doctor waved at my son and Àlvar flailed his arms, accidentally hitting me in the face. Both the doctor and I laughed, and I turned my boy around, so he was facing me and hugged him close.

He was healthy, he was happy, and he was loved. That was all I could give him right now. In the future I'd give him a nation.

"We're losing the war," Islo said with a cheeky smile.

"Yeah?" I murmured tiredly from my position on his chest.

"Yes, they've started losing villages in Bursaaq. Soon Antraaq will fall as well."

"And then they'll finally turn to Andaheim."

"Yes, then Alvina will come home." Islo ran his hand up in my hair and massaged my scalp. "Have you thought about what will happen when she returns?"

"In regards to what?"

"To the throne. She's still the queen. And you're the king."

"I don't know, Islo. It'll have to be something we'll talk about once she returns. I don't... Think I want to give up the throne. I have too many plans for the future to just give up on them now. I want to reshape this nation."

He nodded. "Maybe she the same plans."

"Maybe. I will welcome her home. This is hers as much as it is mine. But I will not give up the throne for her. I am the rightful heir after all, and I have the marks. In the eyes of the law, the spirits, and the kingdom, I am the rightful ruler."

"Yes, you are. But are you ready to pull that card on your own sister?"

I hesitated and then shrugged. "I don't know. I think it's easy for me to be strong and firm in my opinion now when she's not here. I don't know how I'll feel when she does get here."

"Very true. But you know you want to stay on as king. That's already a decision made. At least in your heart."

"I want the life for us that we dreamed of. And I want to be able to control it. I want to be able to make decisions."

"Sweetness, even without being king you can make decisions that involves our lives. You know that."

"But not the way I want to. Islo, I need to make up for the things my ancestors did to this nation. I need to heal it."

He smiled softly, looking up at the ceiling. "I guess I'm rubbing off on you, huh?"

"In the best possible ways." I kissed the side of his throat, and he inhaled sharply.

"I love you," he murmured and pressed me closer.

I slung my leg over his body and hugged him closer. Also so he could trace the tattoos on my back. I had taken up sleeping without a night shirt purely for that reason. And because it was hot out now, making the whole stronghold very hot too.

"I think we should take lunch in the garden tomorrow," he said then.

"I'd love that. A little family picnic."

"And it'd be good for the kids to get some sun."

"And for you. You're so pale," I teased.

"You're just saying that because you're hoping I'll get even more freckles," he laughed, making my face vibrate against his chest.

"Is that so bad? Get more of them, even more cute little ones in your face."

Islo laughed even louder and turned on his side, grabbed my face. "You're such a little shit, Quinn."

"You love it to death, though."

"Oh gods, I do." He moved in and kissed me. My happy husbands.