Raising one brow, he tilted his head back just enough to see Lilyann gracefully walk to the sofa perpendicular to his. She settled down on the velvet cushion and tucked her slippered feet underneath her, resting one arm on the cushioned back.
“Shouldn’t you be at a meeting with your sister and her husband to talk to the children?”
Her elegant blond brows rose. “How in the world do you know that? We only just decided to meet about thirty minutes ago.”
He grinned at her. He loved Lilyann like a sister. She was the younger sibling he’d always wanted and never got. He would do anything to make sure she was safe and happy, and she seemed to be. Her American soldier certainly tried to do his best. Poor man was in for a shock, though, once Lilyann found her water legs, so to speak.
She was hell on wheels when she set her mind to something, and her mind was always turning. He loved her all the more for it. She was a brilliant spy and an excellent soldier. He knew no one braver, especially once he’d caught sight of her biplane. In his opinion, anyone who flew missions against the Germans in such a flimsy contraption had nerves of steel.
“I have my ways,” he hinted, but when her eyes narrowed, giving him a scorching glare, he held up his hands and chuckled. “Okay, okay. I overheard a few of the kids when they were in the garden.” He pointed to the closed window on the other side of the room. “It opens.”
With a rather loud humph, she crossed her arms over her chest. He immediately noticed the ring on her fourth finger, the aquamarine glittering as the large gem caught the room’s light with every move she made.
“You have something to tell me, Lilyann?”
When her brows furrowed and her face scrunched in confusion, he grinned and dropped his gaze to the ring.
Glancing down, she held out her hand in front of her and stared at the handsome gold ring a moment before giving him a wide smile. “Charles and I didn’t want to wait, so we asked Heimdall to marry us.”
Bernard couldn’t hide his disbelief and sat up. “What? You asked Heimdall? For gods’ sake, why? Is it legal?”
Her laughter filled the room and seemed to last forever before finally ending in more of a pained whimper. “Oh my, I definitely needed that, but now my stomach really hurts. Who knew laughing used so many muscles?” She swiped away the tears from her cheeks and leaned back on the sofa. “The answer to your question is ‘yes,’ my marriage is legal. Heimdall is the perfect person to officiate. After all, he has foresight and can tell if our love will stand the test of time.”
She leaned forward with an excited expression. “Would you like to see the ceremony?” Her gaze darted to the bronze God’s Glass, perpetually hanging from its thick black chains over the fireplace. “Of course, we’d need to have Freyja work the Glass thing...” Her voice trailed off. The Glass had come to life again and she stared at the unfolding scene in front of them. “How...?”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I seem to have discovered a few gifts of my own since my rebirth into Freyja’s small army. One of them is being able to control the Glass, although what good that does me, I haven’t figured out yet. Now, let me enjoy seeing you get married.”
Bernard watched as a radiant Lilyann stood beside her American soldier. Charles had proven himself time and again after accepting Freyja and Idunn’s gift, and Bernard would never be able to repay him for holding Lilyann’s soul, so she could be brought back from the afterlife.
A large man dressed in a shimmery robe that subtly changed from bronze to gold stepped into the scene. The sash at his narrow waist emphasized broad shoulders, and plain black boots peeked out from under pants that were a shade or two darker than the robe.
The stranger wore his shiny hair in tiny braids that framed his pale face. They’d been caught up and knotted on the back of his head, creating a thick, white plait which lay over his shoulder.
Throwing Lilyann a quick frown, Bernard returned his gaze to the stranger, standing almost a head taller than Charles, who wasn’t short. “I thought you said Heimdall married you?”
Lilyann smiled. “That is Heimdall.”
His face went slack. Suddenly, the man who looked nothing like the dark-skinned god with swirling gold eyes turned and stared directly at him. Heimdall’s ice-blue gaze cut through time and space, spearing Bernard’s and holding him immovable. In his head, he heard two words.
Do not!