Epilogue
Twenty years later
It hadn't taken Ronda Ericsson long at all to fall in love with her husband. Indeed, she sometimes wondered if she hadn't loved him from the moment he'd saved her at the auction. He had proven then what he'd proved time and time again over the years--Nikolas's heart was true, his love loyal, and his protection a given. Ronda had learned a lot about what love really meant over the past two decades.
Not that she hadn't taught her warlord husband plenty herself. She'd instructed him in the art of karate and, more important, in the understanding that he was worthy of being loved. He had been a king for almost as long as they'd been married, but her feelings for him would have been the same if he weren't.
New Sweden was a different place under Nikolas's rule. The warriors still held steadfastly to the old ways, but women had gained more freedoms and rights. At times it had been teeth-grittingly slow going, but it had happened and continued to evolve. Nikolas was a just, fair ruler. He held his people together with a reasonable but firm fist.
Ronda had been, uncharacteristically for women down here, vocal in her opinions. She and Nikolas had taken some flack for it over the years, but her popularity amongst the people, especially the matriarchs, was too powerful for a few naysayers to destroy.
Nikolas had turned out to be everything Ronda could ever have wanted in a man and then some: an excellent father who placed as much value on their daughter as he did on their three sons, a wise leader of their people, a thoughtful, loving husband, a fierce warlord, and in a few short weeks when their daughter, Cora, gave birth, she knew he'd be the world's most devoted grandfather, as well.
On most subjects Nikolas was pretty flexible, as Viking warriors went, but on the issue of remaining below the ground his opinion could not be swayed. He clung steadfastly to the belief of the ancients, that one day the inventions of Outsiders would cost them dearly and spread disease and chaos to all those living above the ground. Females, for reasons unknown, would dwindle in numbers and bloodlines would die out.
Ronda could only sigh and shake her head at such alarmist, head-to-the-hills reasoning, but these beliefs were the very foundation of the Underworld culture. She supposed if this belief system ceased to exist, the clans of New Sweden, New Norway, and New Daneland would also cease to thrive.
"Good morn, my loves." Nikolas bent down and kissed Ronda and then their daughter, who were sitting in the solarium. It was the brightest of all the chambers in the Ericsson dwelling, having the most peepholes leading up to the world that lay above. The sun's light shone through strongly in here.
Ronda smiled. "Good morning? It's almost time for dinner. At last, he arises!"
God, he was handsome, she thought, a twinkle of contentment in her eyes. The years had only made him look impossibly better to her. He was as muscled, powerful, and strong as ever. A few laugh lines around the eyes and his salt-and-pepper hair were the only hints he'd aged at all.
"I thought the elders of the council would never cease their prattling last eve. What have you two been doing?"
"Going over plans for the soon-to-be baby's bedchamber," Cora excitedly informed him. "But somehow we got on the subject of how you and mother met." Cora grinned, her father's dimple denting one cheek. "Tell me, did she really knee you in the--"
"Aye," Nikolas cut in, frowning. "I walked funny for days."
As the three of them shared a good laugh over that, Ronda winked at her husband. No matter the gruff voice, she knew he loved that memory. She had been the only person who'd been able to physically thwart him, if even for just a couple of minutes.
"I'd better go," Cora sighed, standing up. Her belly was so ripe Ronda wouldn't be surprised if she gave birth to twins. "Olaf and I are to sup with his parents this eve."
"Fun, fun," Ronda teased her daughter.
Cora frowned. "If Olaf's sire tells another boring ode of his warrior days gone by, I will throttle him."
"Ahhh," Nikolas chastised his eldest child, "leave Otrygg to his musings. At his age, 'tis all he has left."
Cora smiled her agreement as she lifted her satchel and prepared to leave. "Oh!" she said, looking back at her parents. "I almost forgot to show you something my husband wanted you to see, Papa."
Nikolas lifted one dark eyebrow as Cora fished out an aboveground newspaper and handed it to him. "I don't know how I could forget something like this," she said. "One of Olaf's scouts retrieved this from the Outside." She took a deep breath. "Alas, the prophecy of the ancients is coming to pass. Olaf thought you would want to know before the rest of the Underground is abuzz."
Frowning, Ronda stood and read the newspaper by her husband's side. She stilled, the article jarring:
One year ago today, after twenty-five years of research, scientists perfected the ability to choose the gender of babies to be conceived. Detractors, including many feminist groups as well as the pope, are trying to get genetic tampering barred in Congress, so far with no success. The detractors cite statistics from last year's pregnancies, which suggest that for every female that was born last year, ten male babies had been born...
Ronda felt dizzy. Was it true? Could those old prophecies she'd thought of as rubbish actually be coming to pass? Goose bumps formed on her arms.
"Have no fear, my love," Nikolas murmured, sensing his wife's distress. "The Underground is safe." He wrapped a secure, powerful arm around her. That vein-roped arm was as comforting now as it had been two decades ago. "And we always will be."
A smile of admiration and love formed on Ronda's lips. "No matter what lies ahead for any world, above or below the ground, I will always be by your side." She leaned into him, needing his strength and warmth. "I love you, Nikolas Ericsson. I will always love you."
"I love you too, Ronda Ericsson." He waited for her to look up at him, then he winked. "I've always thought you to be very cool."
Sherrilyn Kenyon, Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down
(Series: B.A.D. Agency # 0.50)
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