Rose Szabo

Nathan,” she said.

He stood up perfectly straight, his arms folded behind his back as though he were examining a piece of art. His red beard was streaked with blood from his chin, and more blood was crusted on his eyebrow. He smiled when he saw her. Oh, they’d broken his front teeth. She winced, and tried to hide it.

“Astrid,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

Astrid’s heart swelled in her chest. Her king, now and forever. A great thinker, an inventor, big like a tree. Thirty now, with wrinkles blooming at the corners of his eyes. A man with a voice that could lead armies. She had to steady herself against the door to stop her knees from buckling, seeing him like this.