It still seemed so impossible that Sreda had found her other half at last. To think she was even capable of love! A tolerable sort of fondness, perhaps, but this was unprecedented. Oh, if only she had her tail to wag!

Wardruna had suffered so long in love, she thought; she had distantly known of her affection for Alder (it was quite obvious even in those days), who had always been chronically self-loathing to a point he deemed himself utterly unlovable, and it still brought a bitter taste to her tongue when she recalled the ill-fated 'arrangement' her sister had forced between Dimitri and the Stormborn woman. She had never truly forgiven Harper for overstepping in her own children's lives so cruelly - especially when Dimitri, so uncertain of his own wants, had insulted Wardruna by exploring dalliances elsewhere during that time.

Valeska's thoughts drifted to Harper. Wherever she was, she hoped she was alright. For months after her disappearance she had felt overcome by grief and confusion at the seeming abandonment of her own half-sister, but now her absence had settled into a dull ache over which time seemed to lessen.

Sreda would go along with whatever you wished, I am certain, she interjected glibly. Why, having children is already a far greater commitment than a wedding! I am sure she would be open to the idea.

I am open to the idea, she thought ravenously, picturing the decadent florals and elaborate feasts laid out on their behalf. Imagining the sparkle in Wardruna's eyes, the passive ambivalence of Sreda's weak facial muscles struggling to form a smile - it was rapturous!

But I suppose it cannot be rushed.

(But it would be loudly encouraged, many times, until the day itself.)

Have you thought of - of names? Oh, maybe it is too soon! I am just so happy for you both. I have always admired your strength, much like Ragnar's, and you will make such a wonderful mother.