I burrowed under the covers and hid there like a child while Magnus’s manservant pulled the curtains closed around our bed.
Then I whispered, “The coast is clear?”
“Aye, ye can come out now, he’s left.”
I flung down the covers. “That is hard to get used to, I will be much quieter in the future.”
He said, “Och nae, ye canna promise it, mo reul-iuil, or I will grow saddened by the quietude. I need yer sweet howlin’ in m’ear tae ken ye are properly bedded.”
“My ‘sweet howling’?”
He chuckled. Then he shifted and rocked trying to get comfortable. “This is a lumpy mattress.”
I patted my arm so he could put his head on it. I put my thigh up on his hip. It was lovely with the curtains pulled, dark, quiet, and warm.
He asked, “Did ye hear Sean say that he has heard of Mag Mòr in the list of Scottish Kings?”
I stroked my fingers down his cheek, “Yes, he told us at Balloch.”
“Men will ken of me.”
“You’ve been a king for a long time.”
“Aye, in the future, mo reul-iuil, but m’name wasna in the history books. How often has it happened, dost ye think, Kaitlyn, that a man lives long enough tae ken he has gone down in history?”
I pressed my lips to the bridge of his nose. “I never... I didn’t really think about it that way.”
“Aye, and ye are likely in the books as well.”
I exhaled, long. “I hope they get my story right — none of that YouTube nonsense.”
“Och, twas just an inconsequential part of yer life. Think of all ye hae accomplished since then, ye are a queen, the mother of a future king, ye hae vanquished yer enemies?—”
“I don’t know if any of the vanquishing is in the permanent record.”
“Aye, likely not.”
“None of the bloodline and history of Riaghalbane exists in the historical record either.”
“Tis true, and there is the rub. If time travel daena exist... and it daena according tae most, we are simply a medieval king and queen.”
“People will say, ‘Kaitlyn and Magnus, huh? You have the same names as that old king and queen.’ And we’ll say, ‘Yes, it’s uncanny how that happened.’”
“Twill be our secret.”
“No one will ever know that you, the medieval King of Scotland, had the high score on Fortnite.”
He chuckled. “Och, it only lasted for an hour and only because Chef Zach was cookin’ dinner at the time. Even Archie beats me now. Alas, nae one will ever remember me for m’gamin’.”
I laughed. “So we will have to be content with how history remembers us, a medieval king and queen, not much else, because written records are rare. We hold this kingdom for how long?”
“Long enough. Tis still being written.”
I nodded against his head.
“...there is an English King who wants the power, Scottish lords who daena like tae be ruled, an arse-wipe named Asgall causing trouble, and a kingdom in the future that I must trust m’mother is guardin’ well. This is an empire.”
“That makes you an emperor.”
