Celtic Fire (37 page)

“I’ve …” She eased out of Marcus’s embrace. “I thought to come with you. If you’ll have me.”

“What of your brother?”

Rhiannon gave a sad smile. “It was he who convinced me to follow my heart.”

“And your tribe? You would leave your people without their queen?”

She shook her head, sadness showing in her eyes. “I’ve never truly been a queen. I’ve been naught but an excuse to continue the war that drains the lifeblood of my people. Whether I go or stay will make little difference. Men will still die, but at least their lives will not be lost in my name.”

“Look,” Marcus interjected suddenly. Lucius turned to see his son pointing at a place where sunlight splashed through a break in the forest to fall on a spray of red roses. Somehow seeds from a Roman garden had taken root in the wilderness.

Rhiannon touched the petals. “ ’Tis a beautiful flower that springs from these thorns.”

“It’s like the witch who ate a bad boy and birthed a fair one,” Marcus said.

“Yes,” Rhiannon replied. “Beauty may rise from pain.”

“As peace may rise from strife,” Lucius said, drawing her into his arms. “For those who are willing to embrace it.”

He brushed his cheek against Rhiannon’s hair. “It’s my dearest wish that you become my wife and Marcus’s mother.”

Marcus let out a whoop.

Rhiannon smiled and cupped Lucius’s cheek. “ ’Tis my wish as well. I love you, Lucius. Forgive me for not saying those words sooner.”

“It’s enough to hear them now,” Lucius said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Where will we go? To Rome?”

Lucius looked down the trail. “Truly I do not know. At one time I was sure I’d take up the life my father meant me to have, though I never wanted it. But now …” He drew a breath. “Now I’ve found life is too precious to waste. I intend to live each day as it comes, even if that means I don’t know what road I’ll take the next morning.”

“As long as I am by your side, it matters not what path I travel.”

“Then let us journey together,” Lucius said.