Eva Scott winced as Madden led her around the dance floor of the small inn doubling as the town hall for the residents of Unnaryd, in southern Sweden. A crowd of relative strangers cheered on in approval while a local elder played his nyckelharpa with gusto. Eva had asked for a traditional Swedish wedding and she had gotten it.
Madden leaned in, concerned. She smiled to indicate she was fine. Having him this close, Eva marvelled at the fact he was her husband. He was nothing less than dashing, dressed in a white tuxedo, with his long brown hair tied back. He was so tall she had to crane her neck to see his face. He was her personal hero. That he had been reborn not once but twice was an afterthought. Forgetting herself, she winced once more.
“The baby?”
Eva let her hand drop to her midd
