A year later. . . . .
It was a beautiful winter outside. The snow reached knee-high and the birds all flew south. It was peaceful, it was beautiful. It was as the old lady had predicted. This was my peace.
The house had been finished built before the first snow and December and I was happy that the snow had not come until our home was finally built.
December and I were sitting near the fire. She was wrapped up in my arms and was leaning on my chest. We were content. We were at peace.
Though it could have been better.
We both longed for children and though we have tried we decided it was best to wait until the matter with the King had resolved itself.
A few weeks after running away from the King and Queen's men we were married in a chapel far from here. Joe had attended though he dis
