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Author’s Note: So I thought this was a good way to wrap most of this up. It felt like a good place to stop.

One Last Discussion of Names

Violet forced her eyes open again, smiling as she saw Robbie in the chair beside the bed. He looked terrible, and she should not be glad to see him there, so battered and hurt, but even with his face swollen and discolored, she was so glad to see him. She should have a photograph of this, of this moment with him and the child. He might be injured, but he was smiling as well, and she thought that the way he held the baby—he was happy, wasn’t he? Pleased? He did seem to be, and she hoped that he stayed that way.

“He is so small.”

“Shouldn’t have been worth the fuss or the scares he gave us,” Beatrice said, shaking her head. Robbie gave her a look, shaking his head as he turned back to the baby.

“He is worth it. Every child should feel they are regardless of how they came into the world. If my father had given my half-brother that, he would not have hurt so many people. I want this child to know that he is loved. He needs that. We all do.”

“You are loved, Robbie. Lacking your father’s love did not twist you as it did your brother,” Violet said, trying to reach for him. She was so tired that she thought she’d sleep for days if her eyes stayed shut for more than a second. “Not that I think our boy will lack any sort of love. He has so much already.”

“I don’t think anything can prepare you for the moment when you first see them. It’s… There’s something wonderful about it. As worried as I was about you—about him—coming in here was such a relief. I should let you sleep, but I don’t want to leave you.”

“I will rest soon. I fear I will have little choice in that respect.”

“I mean it, Violet. I’m not leaving you. Now or ever. Whatever legal issues we might have, I meant those vows, and I will make sure that I adopt this boy as well. I have nothing to offer—you know my father cut me off. He won’t take me back, and he won’t care about what happened here. I doubt he feels he’s at all to blame for what he did to my half-brother. Me marrying you… He won’t forgive it, and he won’t give me anything. I don’t want it, but I am going to have a hard time finding work in my condition, and I won’t be able to provide for either of you—”

“I have some money, and I know you will find employment. We do not have to worry about that just now.”

“She should be resting now.”

“Mother, please, let me have as much time with Robbie and the baby as I can before I fall asleep. I don’t want to miss a moment.”

“Here,” Robbie said. “You’d better take him back. My arm’s starting to go numb, and I don’t want to drop him. I’d never forgive myself.”

He set the baby next to her, kissing her forehead. She smiled at him, wanting him to stay close. Could it be so terrible if he shared the bed with her? Perhaps they were not quite married, even with the vows they took, but they would be.

“He needs a name.”

“That can wait. Violet should rest first, and there’s all those legal things that lawyer was going on about before the reverend silenced him and went ahead with the ceremony to consider. We can wait. The boy’s name will come.”

“I can tell you one thing it won’t be. Robert John Winston the fourth.” Robbie laughed, and they all joined him. Violet could not help thinking that was the worst thing they could do to the boy, even if Robbie was a good man and his son should be proud of him.

“Is it wrong, do you think, to call him after Father?” Violet asked, looking to her mother. “Not necessarily the whole name, but part of it?”

“I think he’d be very pleased,” her mother said, and her aunt put her hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, Rose. You need rest as well. We’ll let them settle those details. They can tell us in the morning.”

Robbie watched them go, letting out a breath. “I was afraid after all that, I’d lose you.”

“I was afraid it was the end, too,” Violet admitted. She tried to lift herself up. “Help me move. I want… I’d like to fall asleep beside you. It… I had missed having Winston beside me, and it’s not the same, I’m not replacing you with him, and I don’t—I’m not sure what will happen now. To be honest, after seeing him attack you, I fear he may do harm to others.”

“To himself?”

She sighed. “What does he have left, Robbie? I can’t think of anything.”

“I don’t know. I hope the police watch him carefully. I don’t—he attacked me, and he hurt you, but I don’t want him dead. I don’t. What father did to him was wrong, and he deserved better, and that is not an excuse for what he did, but I think I can understand him even if I have trouble forgiving him.”

“I pity him. I’m not condoning his actions, no, but I feel somewhat sorry for him.”

“He’s a fool. Look at what he could have had.”

“I love you,” she said, and then she grimaced. “At least… I think I do. It’s still a bit confusing for me, and you should know that I did rush the decision because the baby was coming—”

“I love you, too. Or I think I do. I know I want to.”

“Perhaps that is the best way to think of what we have.”

“It can still grow. We’ll be certain of it someday. Someday when we’re cross with each other and yelling and all of a sudden we stop because we don’t want to be angry and can’t hurt each other with one more word, we’ll know.”

“That sounds fine to me.”

“It’s got a bit of forever to it. That makes it appealing.”

She felt him settling in beside the baby. A moment later, his hand was up to brush the hair back from her face. She welcomed his touch. “Is it wrong to be glad that he stole your name?”

“No. Strangely, I think I’m glad he took it. I shouldn’t be, but I am. It led me to you.”

She closed her eyes. She felt the same way. “Tell me about the horse trough.”

“He told you that one, too? Damn him.”

She laughed.

Author’s Note: It was almost convenient for me that they used to force the men out of the room when the women were giving birth. Almost.

Waiting, Worrying, and a Warning

“It’s taking too long, isn’t it?” Robert asked, worried. He couldn’t believe they’d shoved him out of the room after the reverend said congratulation—he wasn’t entirely sure that ceremony was any more legal than Violet’s first, but he would make sure that it was—he would resent that for the rest of his life, He had to believe that. He didn’t know that he’d be able to forgive them for exiling him from his wife—fiancee?—when she was so weak and in so much pain. “It must be.”

“Calm yourself, son. Babies are born everyday, and most of the time, nothing goes wrong with the birth.”
Robert looked back at the Millson. He did not know who had asked the man to come, but he was grateful. The innkeeper had been very helpful, a man that Robert would want for a father instead of his own, and he valued the other man’s advice and company, especially now. “I don’t know how I can take any sort of comfort in that given what she has already suffered through this pregnancy. I can’t help being worried about her. She’s so… She saved my life, and that might have stressed her right into giving birth and—”

“The doctor said your wounds weren’t fatal. You’re going to be fine.”

“I know I am. It’s Violet and the baby that I’m worried about. What if I lose her? Or she loses the baby? I don’t know how she’ll feel about that. It’s such an awful mess right now, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t sit still, and pacing doesn’t seem to help—I just become more anxious as time goes on.”

“My mother-in-law, she told me when our son was delaying that babies come when they want to and not a moment before. I heard this was a stubborn one so far, so you may as well settle in for a bit. You could be waiting a couple days.”

“Days?”

“Sometimes that’s what it takes.”

Robert groaned, sitting down. “What am I going to do? I’ll be insane by then. And Violet—can she even survive it if it takes days? I don’t think she can. Oh, hell.”

“She’ll be fine, lad.”

“What happened to my half-brother?”

“Is that who he is?”

“Apparently so. My father got his mother pregnant and married my mother anyway—after trying to have Violet’s aunt first—so he’s resented me and her all this time, and he was—I didn’t even know he existed, not until I got a good look at him and heard him speak. He sounds like my father. He looks like him. I guess my father was… He wasn’t just a cad about what he’d done to that woman he wouldn’t marry. He also made that man feel like he was nothing compared to me—and the stupidest part of it is that my father hates me.”

Millson shook his head. “Shame, that’s what it is. A true shame about all of it.”

“It’s wrong of me to have married her, isn’t it? I’m not sure it was even legal. I know everyone thought I should when he left her, but he did come back, and the child is his, and I shouldn’t take anything else from him even if I didn’t know that I had in the first place.”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

“Does she love you?”

“Yes.”

“Will you raise the child as your own?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should have married her, and I’ll tell them lock you in with your half-brother if you try and back out now. She doesn’t deserve that. You’re lucky, and don’t you ever take it for granted like he did. Doesn’t matter what your father did, what you did, what her aunt did, he could have done right by her and he didn’t. That’s on him, all on him, and he doesn’t deserve to keep her after the way he treated her. Disgraceful, that was, and if there were laws in place about it, they’d make sure he got arrested for what he did. Since there isn’t, I’m glad they’re locking him up for assaulting you. At least he’ll be in prison for a while, even if it’s not for the worst of his crimes.”

Robert nodded. “That was how I felt about it—of course, I was thinking we’d be getting him arrested for forgery, not for what he did to me. I didn’t… Honestly, I never expected him to come back. I didn’t think he would.”

“Not even after you were attacked?”

“No.”

Millson grunted. “It was probably you being here that made him come back. He might not have cared otherwise.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.” Robert leaned back in his chair. “No, I doubt it was just me. I think it was because my father came. Our father. I bet he wanted to see my father’s reaction to all of this. I don’t know if he had that moment or not, but I know I will never forgive that man for all the harm he caused. He knew it was his son. He knew exactly who’d done this. That was why he wanted to say it was nothing, why he accused Violet… Bastard.”

“Yes, your father deserves to be locked away right with your brother.”

“He does.” Robert closed his eyes. He was sore, but his aches were nothing. He wanted to get to Violet, to be with her and help her if he could.

“Mr. Winston? It’s done. She’s very tired, so you can’t see her for long—she needs her rest—but you can have a few minutes.”

He jerked himself right up out of the chair. “She’s all right? And the baby?”

“Both fine. Exhausted, but I imagine she’ll make a full recovery, though I might caution you against future children—”

“I don’t care if she ever has another child as long as she’s alive.”

Author’s Note: This seemed like a natural follow up to the last scene, at least in part. I probably should have gone with the decision to take a different path after that one, but I do have a weakness for moments like this. I think the ability to sleep beside someone shows how deep trust runs because we’re vulnerable when we sleep, we have to let our guard down. So, really, it was about trust.

Surprised in the Morning

Anokii folded her arms over her chest, looking down at feet hanging over the side of the bed. Two sets, one group smaller and more slender, those of a woman. She supposed someone else would be worried. She was, and yet she was not. She saw enough small details to allay what doubts she might have. She hoped, at least. “Morning, cousin.”

Agache jerked awake, his eyes darting around in confusion. He looked at Anokii and then over to the lower half of the bed and back to her, frowning. She almost would have thought that he was not sure where he was or how he’d managed to sleep there. The position was rather awkward—the bed was longer in the other direction, and he should have fallen off of it during the night the way he was half over the edge. “What—Where—Why are you here?”

Anokii’s eyes went to the bed. Even though she suspected their positions had come about rather innocently, she could not help pointing out the danger of it. “I should ask you that. In fact, you should be glad that it was me who entered and not the king.”

He pulled himself up to a seated position, looking at the queen and shaking his head. “It is not like that, Anokii. We did not—I know that—”

“You got yourself hurt, that much I can see. I assume that the queen assisted you with that wound.”

“It was a poor effort compared to yours, I am sure,” the queen said, rising without bothering to sit up. She was still wearing the dress she’d had on the day before, and Anokii did not think that the other woman realized that she had not changed. “I could have made him sleep on the floor after I was done with him, but before I could ask, he had passed out. Perhaps I gave him too much of the herbs. He seems to be rather confused, doesn’t he?”

“Indeed.”

Agache sighed. He winced as he touched his side. “Must you tease? I did not intend to sleep in the queen’s room, certainly not in her bed. That was… It wasn’t—”

“You weren’t in my bed. On it, almost, but not in it. I helped you with your wound, as I said, but I got some of the herbs on my hands as well, and while I sat beside you, trying to treat you, I… I suppose you must say that I treated myself as well. I must have closed my eyes and quickly fallen asleep. Neither of us intended to share this space. That is clear from the way we were lying. Nothing happened, and we will be more careful should any similar situation arise.”

“Yes,” he agreed, leaning down to pick his tunic up off the floor. He grimaced, unable to lift his arms to pull it on. Anokii moved over to his side and helped ease it over him. He closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

“I would tell you not to get injured again, but that would be useless. You are altogether too willing to risk your life.”

The queen nodded. “Your cousin is right. You are.”

“You would lecture me? Who did you marry again?”

The queen glared at him, but before she could say anything, her door opened, and she stilled, looking over at the other part of the room in horror. Anokii grabbed her cousin’s cloak, shoving it at him as she forced him as much out of sight as she could. As soon as he was cloaked, whoever had entered would not so much as look at him, but until then, he was vulnerable.

Agache pushed her hands away, and Anokii grimaced, having little choice except to try and block him from being seen, not that the king so much as glanced at them. He went for the queen.

“I’ve decided to inspect the remaining troops today. You will accompany me.”

The queen nodded, bowing her head to the king’s decree, and he stopped, frowning at her. He took hold of her arm, pulling her close, his hand in her hair. “One would think you would dress less… formally when you sleep.”

“And let everyone see all of me when I am asleep and vulnerable?”

“Who has seen you in such a state? Malzhi?”

“No.” She lowered her head. “Perhaps. If he came in when I was sleeping, I would not necessarily know. I would hope not, but how could I be certain?”

Anokii thought the queen was becoming too good a liar, though she could not be ungrateful to the other woman for continuing to conceal her cousin.

The king smiled. “Then you remain mine.”

She nodded, crying out a moment later. “You did not have to do that.”

Anokii had not seen what he’d done, but she sensed her cousin’s agitation behind her. The way he’d bumped her almost suggested he was about to go after the king himself, but even if he had hurt her, Agache could not risk everything for one moment of abuse, even if the queen was their ally.

The king laughed, shoving his wife backward. He walked away, his laughter lasting until after the door closed behind him. The queen shuddered, and Anokii moved toward her. She knelt down, her hand going to the other woman’s shoulder. The queen jerked away from her.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Did he hurt you?”

The queen shook her head. “It… That will pass. Please, leave me alone.”

“If you are worried about my presence, I will go. I never meant to stay this long,” Agache said. He stopped next to the queen. “If there is anything I can do—”

“No. Go.”

Agache hesitated. Anokii knew that regardless of the circumstances that had brought him here or his need to stay far from the king—they were fortunate that the other man had only seen the queen—he blamed himself for what had just happened to her. It didn’t matter that she’d come here more or less by her own choice, that she’d known what she was doing when she married the king. Agache had been the one who had taken on the king’s abuses before his “death,” but now he had to watch as someone else was forced to bear that burden. Anokii hoped that he would not be foolish now, no matter how much she hated knowing what the king could do to the queen.

Muttering a low curse and shaking his head, Agache turned to leave. “Yes, my lady.”

Author’s Note: So when I wrote this scene, I immediately wanted to share it. I thought the background behind the queen’s name was something important. Or maybe it was just the way that Agache reacted after she told him that I liked.

Behind the Name

“Jis?”

“What is it?” She did not look behind her, not wanting to speak to Agache right now. She didn’t want to see anyone. She didn’t know that she could cope with a visitor or whatever demand was about to be made of her. She did not want to see the king or Malzhi or try for any sort of intrigue, not now. She had wanted to know what their plan was, how they were going to stop the king and Malzhi, but she did not have the stamina to hear it at present. She could not believe how much she had told Anokii, and in revealing herself, she had made another mistake. She should not have betrayed her thoughts, should not have voiced those doubts, nor could she allow herself to be so vulnerable again.

“Something is wrong.”

She almost laughed. Sometimes Agache was a fool. Didn’t he realize what he was asking? “You are in my room again. Of course something is wrong.”

He shook his head. “It is something else. You do not react to your name that way without a reason. You did not—is it the king? Malzhi? Memories?”

She could say it was any of those things or none of them. All of them, perhaps. She was homesick in many ways, despite thinking that she no longer had a place there, and yet she was unwilling to leave. She was close to overwhelmed by everything she feared. “Memories, I suppose.”

“Of what?”

She would not discuss that. He would not distract her this time. If he had come to her room, he should have a reason for it—a good one—and he would tell her what it was. Now. Otherwise, he could go. She was not going to let him annoy her tonight. “Why are you here?”

“Because I am a fool.”

She frowned. She did not like that answer. She had thought it herself a moment before, but that did not mean that she wanted him to say it. He was not free to visit her without reason, and to call himself a fool suggested at a reason she would not believe. “You… You do have a reason for being in my room at night, don’t you? This is not something to do because you are bored, so you would… You must have a reason. What is it?”

“I am not bored.”

She already knew that, but his words were not the answers she needed. His voice told her enough. He did not realize how much that revealed about him. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”

He sighed, and she turned back to him, crossing over to his side. He did not protest as she helped him out of his cloak or pushed up his shirt. She winced as she saw his side. “What did you do? No, wait, do not tell me. I know. You were the one who set those two idiots squabbling before the king’s speech, weren’t you?”

“I was.” He lowered his head, ashamed. “I… It was only supposed to be a distraction. They…”

“They weren’t supposed to die.”

He shook his head, miserable. “No, they weren’t. I… I tried to stop it, but I was too late.”

“It could easily have been something else they did, not something that you arranged. It doesn’t take much to anger the king.”

“That is no consolation, and we both know it. I did that, I sent them to their deaths, and it is something I must atone for later,” he said, keeping his head low. He let out a breath, but he did not look up at her. “Distract me again. Please.”

She turned to pick up her water pitcher, knowing that she would have to clean that wound at least. That would not distract him from remembering what had caused it, though. “With what?”

“You never did tell me what Jis meant.”

She sighed, motioning for him to sit on the bed. “I… You would not know that Jis… It comes from a flower.”

“A flower?” He sat down, grimacing as he did. “It must be hideous or have a terrible scent to cause you to react that way.”

“Not quite. The jisensoji flowers are only grown in the king’s gardens. He… He gave one to my mother when she became his mistress. It… That symbolized their agreement.”

Agache frowned. “She… had a choice?”

The queen stilled, the cloth she’d been about to touch to his side dripping onto the floor. “Why would you think she didn’t?”

“She would have been picked because she looked like the queen. She was already the other woman’s esibani, wasn’t she? It was rather… inevitable, that relationship with your father, wasn’t it?”

“I want you to leave.”

He gestured to the floor, and she frowned to see she’d dropped the cloth. “You didn’t do anything—I thought you wanted to treat this. Not that you have to, but you did—”

“I am not Anokii. I am not a healer, and you have…” She could say it when she wasn’t looking at him, and kneeling to pick up the cloth was a good reason not to face him, unlike cowardice. “You have made my parents’ liaison worse than it had ever seemed in the past, and it was difficult enough knowing that I was only ever… I had not deceived myself that they were in love, but to think of myself so… coldly prearranged…”

Agache reached over and placed his hands on her face. “I am sorry. I did not mean to make you feel as though you are somehow less because of your birth. Regardless of how that may have come to be, you have become so much more than what they might have intended. You are the queen. You are my ally. My… wijami. I was injured, and you offered me shelter despite the risk involved in my mere presence in your room. You have so much… value. Do not think you lack worth. Please.”

“I don’t…” She swallowed. She didn’t know how to respond to what he’d said. She settled for something simple, though it did not do justice to what he had done for her. “Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome.”

“Let me rinse this, and then I will take care of that wound for you.”

“That is unnecessary.”

Of course he’d argue with her about it the moment she started to clean him up. He was such a child sometimes. Still, if he was trying to excuse himself because he thought she was still upset, that was different. “I say it is, and I am your queen, remember?”

“Very well, my lady. If you insist.”

Author’s Note: Originally, this was all one scene. I ended up splitting it because it had just gotten so long and a bit out of control. I wanted the explanation and confrontation separate from this part. I think it’s better this way.

A Rescue, Reversed

“Can’t… breathe…” Something had shattered, and Robert thought he’d felt something sting his cheek as it hit. He grunted, not certain what had drawn him back from the darkness, but he did not know that he wanted to know. He did not think it would last, either, not with him bearing the full weight of his half-brother.

“Because he broke your nose or because he’s stuck on top of you?”

“Um… possibly both,” Robert said, shifting so that he could get his stronger arm in a position to push the man’s body off of him. He turned over, trying to sit up. Violet. He’d heard Violet, and that was something worth staying awake for. He would try. He did not know that he would make it, but he would try.

“Did I kill him?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think I could hear him breathing. He’s not dead.”

“Oh, good,” Violet said, sitting down on one of the stones that made the path to the front of her house. Robert should regret walking through the garden, but he thought it might have saved him. “I was so afraid… I thought I’d killed him… Thought he was going to kill you… He was so angry. I’ve never seen him like that, and I don’t… That wasn’t the man I knew. It wasn’t.”

Robert nodded, yanking his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping at his face, trying to rid himself of the blood. “I think he saw us yesterday, and that was…. too much. After all my father did to make him feel rejected and unworthy, to make him resent me, to resent your aunt, having it appear that you had picked me as well… I think it sent him into a rage. I couldn’t reason with him, though I tried.”

“I know.” She glanced toward the man—her husband, Robert should remember that—and sighed. “I… There is such injustice in his story. I understand him being angry, and I would have been, too, but he… He came here to hurt you, to hurt my aunt, and he only ever used me.”

“We don’t know that. He might have loved you despite his intention to hurt everyone. He might have cared, if only in a small measure. He sounded… jealous, at least.”

She looked down at her hands. “You didn’t steal me. I was never anyone’s to steal.”

“I know that.”

“I did love him until he left me, and a part of me still loved him after he left me. I didn’t want to because of what he’d done, but I did. Then I met you and learned what he’d done, all the stories he’d stolen, and I was confused…”

“Violet, it’s not—”

“Do you think he hurt the lawyer, too?”

“Did he not come? If not, then… Possibly.”

“It would take a long time to get the reverend here and without the lawyer…”

Robert grimaced. “I wouldn’t think it would be so difficult to find out what happened to the lawyer or get the reverend here, but why would he need to hurry?”

“I’d like the baby to have a father before it comes.”

He stared at her. “You… You’re… You’re going to have the baby now?”

“I think so. I hope so. Either that or I’m dying, so it had better be that the baby is coming,” she said, trying to force herself up, but she cried out and stilled. “Oh, very well. I shall stay here until it does. That is good enough for me.”

“I don’t think so. We have to get you inside and get some water boiled and if you’re going to have the reverend marry you to that one then—”

“Oh.” She lowered her head, and he thought she had to be in a lot of pain. He started toward her, hoping to help her before things progressed too far with the birth. He didn’t care how he felt. He’d live. The fact that he could move had already convinced him of that. He already felt better. He would make sure she got everything she needed before the baby came.

“Oh?”

“Well…” She looked up at him, biting her lip. He thought she might even cry. “I had meant you, not him. That’s why I need the lawyer, too, so that I would know if it was even possible to do that now, but if you don’t want me or the child then—”

“I want you,” Robert told her, kneeling down next to her. He put a hand on her face. “Oh, Violet, I tried not to, just as you did, but I do think I have fallen in love with you, and I know that I can at least be a better father than mine ever was, even if I am not that good of a man.”

“You are a good one, better than I deserve after—”

“Don’t say that. I think he was wrong about many things, but he was right about one of them—he didn’t deserve you.” Robert wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hold tight. I don’t know if I can lift you or not, but I’m going to try.”

“Robert—”

“Don’t argue, child. We already called the police, but your mother is summoning the doctor now. I suppose we’ll have to find someone to go for the reverend in the meantime,” Beatrice said, walking up to them. “Now let’s get you inside before that baby comes.”

Author’s Note: I wrote this part to bridge the gap between the scene with the queen escaping the bindings and one that I wrote where the queen discusses her name and what it means. I didn’t want to delay that scene, but it didn’t fit before. It does, after this, almost.

Wounded in Spirit

“How are you feeling?”

“I believe you may say I am recovering.”

“In body, perhaps, yet not in spirit,” Anokii said, shaking her head at the queen’s tone. The woman had been rather despondent, even after the real bindings were switched for the fake. She was without either version at the moment, her neck bare and body free in the privacy of her rooms, but none of that seemed to help her at present. Were it only the pain, the queen should have improved after the necklace was first removed. The herbs would have made her almost numb to that. This, Anokii feared, went far deeper than the marks the bindings had left behind.

“Is this the way you are with your cousin?”

“Agache does seem to be as resistant to healing as you are. Sometimes I do not believe he thinks he should heal at all. I can give you the remedies the plants offer, but only you can allow the recovery to begin. If you have determined in your mind not to let anyone assist you, then I can do nothing for you. You will not improve.”

The queen stopped to lean against the wall. “I knew when I came what I was doing—I knew before I came what I had agreed to. Some might argue that I had no choice or perhaps it would not seem as though I did, but I know I could have gone against them if I’d tried. I never tried. Sometimes that feels like cowardice. Sometimes this does, obeying them, wedding myself to a man I knew was cruel only to preserve my people, to be close enough to kill him if I were not such a coward…”

“They sent a princess to kill the king?”

The queen laughed. “I cannot believe that Agache did not tell you. No, Anokii. They did not send a princess. They sent an esibani. A trained bodyguard of the royal house. I am the one that has always protected Zaze, and when she was pledged to your king, I was the one sent in her place.”

Anokii stared at her. “That… That is why Agache calls you Jis, why he sees you as so valuable, why he always says you are not what you seem.”

The queen’s lips curved into a cruel smile. “I am not what anyone thinks, not even Agache. I do not know myself—I was lost in the role of Zaze’s protector years ago. Here I am the queen. It is not the same as being Zaze. My sister, fool that she is, would be dead by now.”

“Yes, I think you have been quite fortunate to remain alive as long as you have.”

“I know I have.”

Anokii set aside her herbs. “That is what holds back your healing, then. You do not want to improve—you feel you have lingered too long already. Your life is already forfeit, perhaps you have felt it so since you came in your sister’s stead. You can allow that feeling to decide your actions and mood, or you can change it. That is not a choice anyone can make for you.”

The queen closed her eyes. “I cannot help feeling that even should I survive, I will not have reason to. What I had before I left is no longer mine, and I think even if it were, it will not be… I should not say it, but I have no desire to return to being Zaze’s protector. I have been a queen. That has ruined me for all else, I fear.”

“You do not have to return. You are our queen, and though the current laws do not permit you to rule, you have some authority and even responsibility to this land. You are one of us now, by marriage and vow, and you do not have to leave.”

The queen pushed herself away from the wall, crossing to her bed. “My oath as esibani comes before the oaths here, and do not forget that the whole fact of me being here is a lie. If the king knew, he’d have every reason to dishonor the treaty.”

“Then why come at all? Why send you here?”

“I told you—they intended for me to kill him. I… I cannot do it, and in failing, I condemn both our nations. It… I think it would be best if… If something should happen before the king learns of it, while he is still unready for war, then it is the best outcome possible now.”

Anokii shook her head. “No. I do not believe that. Nor do you, not truly. You are perhaps as worried about surviving as you are not surviving, but you know that if the king and Malzhi fall without you dying or war with your homeland, that is the best outcome. Peace cannot be undervalued. It is more important than almost anything else. Your land will be safe, ours will be free, and perhaps then the Nebkasha can rebuild and grow again.”

The queen sat down. “I do not believe we have much time left. The end is coming, I can feel it, and if I should make one mistake…”

“Do not let your urgency tempt you into something rash. You and Agache are too alike in that respect. You both must be patient. Do not allow yourself to panic.”

“This would be easier if we had a plan.”

“Ask Agache about that the next time you see him.”

Author’s Note: I admit, I had this solution in mind pretty much from the beginning. This was one of those stories where I knew who was behind everything almost from the start. I was getting impatient in wanting to share this part, though, and almost gave too much away before now, but… here it is.

Confronted by the Answer

“It should have been me.”

Robert stilled, frowning as he turned to face the voice. He knew there was something to it, a familiarity that bothered him even as he thought of his father, and then he understood. Standing face-to-face with the man who had taken his name and stolen his memories as well, he at last comprehended the connection, the resemblance, even the reason. His father. He could see his father in the other man—he’d heard him in him, too, same voice.

Damn RJ. He’d known all along, hadn’t he? He’d known that this bastard was out there, and he had known who he was from the moment Violet’s first letter came. His father had lied, had tried to claim that it was unimportant, that this was all Violet’s doing, but he’d known who the man in the photograph was. He had to have known.

Robert and the rest of them, they should have known. Beatrice had said it. She had said there was another woman with RJ’s child, and this was that man grown into a monster.

“You… I… You’re my half-brother, aren’t you?”

The other man glared at him, stepping forward. “You shouldn’t even exist. I am older. She had me first. He lied to her. He told her loved her. He told her he would marry her. He almost married that other, but when she refused him, he was supposed to marry my mother. He promised, and she had me, and then he married your mother and had you.”

Robert took a step backward, convinced that years of resentment had unhinged his half-brother, had made him so unreasonable that nothing he said would convince the man not to hurt him. He might not be able to stop him from hurting any of the others, either. He hated Beatrice enough to ruin her niece, didn’t he? What would this bastard do to her or to Violet? Robert had to admit that he was frightened. In all the ways he had pictured his confrontation with the man who’d taken his name, even after the attack in the park, he’d never quite grasped the danger of such an encounter. He had not thought that the man was the sort of criminal that one feared, not once. He had not believed the man so violent, and Robert had never quite thought of how much the other man would want to end his life.

He should have known better. Such hubris could only end in disaster.

“You come along, and he gives you his name. Raises you as his son. Gives you everything you want. Makes you his heir.”

“Though I very much doubt you will believe me, there was never a time where I had everything I wanted. He is a cheap man, one who does not part with a dime willingly, and he was never all that… pleased with me. I do not think he has approved of a single thing I have done since I was born.”

“Liar,” the other man said, grabbing hold of Robert’s coat and shaking him. “He always talked about you. He couldn’t stop. He told us all about how wonderful his Robert was. How Robert said his first word, how Robert learned to walk. How Robert was always into mischief. He must have repeated that damn story about the beehive a hundred times. Mother would always smile and tell him he was a very fortunate man to have two such fine sons, but he never acknowledged me.”

“No. He as much as hated me, and I don’t believe you. If he was telling stories like that then… Then he was enough of a bastard to do it to hurt both of you, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t—as far as I have ever known, my father hated me. He wasn’t like what you’re saying at all. I don’t know why he’d lie to you, why he’d pretend he was proud of me, but he never was. He wouldn’t let me have honey again after the beehive, and it wasn’t like he didn’t make my backside red for it before he made that decree. He was never pleased. He was not what you think—”

The other man’s fist connected with Robert’s jaw, and he fell, his hand on his face. Damn, that had hurt. If he made it through this alive, he would make sure his father knew just what kind of monster he was—and the monster he’d created in the son he’d refused to acknowledge.

The man’s boot hit him in the stomach, and Robert tried to push himself up and away from him, cursing his arm for choosing now of all times to become numb. “It was never enough. You had him, you had his money, but you had to go off and become a hero. A great veteran of the war.”

“I was drafted. I didn’t want to go. And I am not a hero.”

“No, you’re not,” the other man agreed, and Robert cursed as his foot pounded Robert’s side a second time. He pulled his bad arm close against him and forced himself to his feet. He had not cared much for hand-to-hand combat when he was in the trenches, had not wanted to use his bayonet, but he knew better than this, and he should not be allowing this man to hurt him.

“Stop this. We’re brothers, and even if our father is the worst sort of man on the planet—well, there are worse than him, but what he’s done to you and your mother is reprehensible, what he did to Beatrice as well—we don’t have to fight. We can… we can confront him with what we now know and get you the recognition that you deserve and—”

“You’re the one keeping me from everything that’s mine.”

“What? No. You’re not being reasonable. Think about it. You have so many things that—Violet. She’s carrying your child. You could have a wonderful family. She wouldn’t care about what Father has done and—”

“I don’t have Violet. I never had Violet. She loves you! They all do! She was in love with the boy with the beehive, with the name, and I saw you with her. She’s not mine. You stole her just like you stole everything else.”

“You left her, and she was confused and vulnerable,” Robert said, though a part of him did want to believe that she was in love with him. He shouldn’t, but he knew somewhere along the way he’d gone beyond the admiration that he felt for her and tumbled into something far deeper than esteem. He loved her; he could admit that now.

“You’re lying.”

“I think she could have loved you if you were only honest with her,” Robert said, hating that truth even as he spoke it. She’d been afraid that all the things she’d liked in “Winston” were from Robert, but they weren’t. He knew they weren’t.

The other man swung his fist, and Robert dodged the blow, stumbling as he did. If he hadn’t tripped over a rock he hadn’t seen, he might have been fine, but that fall gave his opponent an advantage, and the other man was on him in an instant, pummeling his face with one fist and then the other. After the concussion the other day, he could not hope to last long, ready to join the darkness that had called to him in those early hours of his injury, called him places free of nightmares and responsibilities.

He was a coward. He wanted to go there.

Author’s Note: I didn’t feel it was necessary to draw out or dwell on how long the queen had to wear the real bindings. They were unpleasant times for her, painful, and I think that was covered already. It was time to free her.

A Minor Freedom

“Jis.”

Her eyes opened, and she reached up to her neck, wondering if she was dreaming. The bands were gone, and though she could feel their marks, she did not feel the same weight. She could not believe this. She had to wake up, had to face that it was still there. She did not want to. She would rather dream of her homeland or even nothing at all. She did not want to wake. Let it be over at last.

“Look at me, please, my esibani. I know I was late getting this to you, but you… Please. Open your eyes for me.”

She blinked, her eyes clearing as she focused on Agache. “Late?”

“You know, of course, that I had gone to meet with the other leaders—Gekin was forced to find me since the jeweler would not give the fake to anyone but me. Had I known, I would never have left, I swear. I hope it was worth the trouble that he caused us—you. As far as I can tell, the forgery is flawless. The king should not be able to tell the difference. You can take it on and off when you want from now on, and Anokii has already treated your wounds. She will do so again now that you are awake.”

The queen nodded, turning onto her side. She did not dare rise, and she wanted to be able to look at him without straining her neck. “How much longer? How long before this thing ends?”

“Not long, I promise,” Agache said, brushing back her hair with a frown. “I swear… I never meant for this to take as long as it did.”

“He used something like this on your arm, didn’t he? On more than your arm.”

Agache closed his eyes. “Yes. I… It is very painful, and I did not want you to have to suffer as I had. I am sorry. I hoped to make it so that you could avoid this.”

She sighed. “I know that I don’t… As much as it has hurt, I am aware that there were far worse things that he could be doing to me. I… I am grateful that it is this and not one of those things. I am.”

Agache’s hand took hers. “Why are you not more… angry? Should you not hate your family for sending you here to him? Should you not hate me for all I have failed to do in protecting you? I have not even been much help to you.”

“It is not your responsibility to care for me. You are leading a revolution. You are not the esibani for this queen.”

“Perhaps that is a good thing. I would have been a true failure at it, and you are in almost desperate need of a skilled esibani.”

“You have helped me. You have saved me, too. You should not have to be at my side constantly. There are other more important things for you to do. I am only one woman, and even were I to fall, it would likely aid your cause. My people would be forced to retaliate. It would mean war. In the confusion, you could do much to destabilize the kingdom, leaving him nothing to rule.”

He shook his head. “No. It should not come at the cost of your life.”

“You are willing to let it happen at the cost of yours.”

Agache grimaced. “I have, I fear, acted far too irresponsibly. I know what I should be doing, and I have failed at it each time. We share the same difficulty. I no more want to kill anyone than you do.”

“I suppose I should not like that about you. Still, I do.”

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “You should rest. Anokii is waiting to help you, and you should take this opportunity to heal as much as possible. I should not have woken you, but you worried me.”

She covered his hand with hers. “For all that you say the Gichikane in you makes you unable to, you care. You worry so much about your people. It is very admirable. You should be the king.”

“I would hate that,” he said, lowering his head. She waited, wondering why he had not left yet if Anokii was there to examine her bruises. “You know that is not much of a compliment—almost anyone would be a better king than he has been.”

She laughed, closing her eyes with a smile as Agache withdrew.

Author’s Note: Violet is still conflicted. It’s not an easy decision for her to make. She has many things to consider, and she wants to do what is right. That’s never easy. Everyone has a different opinion on what is right and what is not.

Still Trying to Make the Right Decision

“Violet?”

“If I were to marry Robbie, would it be a terrible sin? I don’t mean that I won’t discuss divorce or an annulment with the lawyer as soon as he arrives—why is he so late? He should have been here half an hour ago—but divorce is a sin, isn’t it? I know some people don’t think so, and most people would not blame me for choosing that after what Winston did, but that does not necessarily make it right.”

Her mother took her hand, covering it with both of hers. “I seem to recall something about it being allowed only because of the people, that God hated a divorce, but I don’t know that I’m the one to ask. We will have to ask the reverend. You… You’ve made a decision, then, have you?”

Violet lowered her head. “No. I haven’t. I want to say I have, that I know all that I should feel, that I am certain of all my options, my choices, and what they mean, but I am not. At times I am quite convinced that I love Robbie and only Robbie, other times that I did love Winston and have made Robbie some sort of substitute for him, and others that I don’t know what love is at all and therefore love neither of them.”

“That is possible, too.”

“I know.”

“It is not as though you need to make a decision this instant. You can speak to the lawyer and to the reverend and anyone else you might need to talk to. I am not certain you can get either of those things—a divorce or an annulment—without Winston being here, and we may have to face the fact that you will be married to him for some time despite the way that he abandoned you and the baby.”

Violet put a hand on her stomach. “Though I had some minor symptoms before his departure, I do believe he was as ignorant of my condition as I was. He did not know there was a child to leave. I… I suppose it is foolish to hope that, but a part of me does. I hope he did not go knowing that there was a baby. I don’t know what I’d do if he were here now, if we were about to have this child and Robbie came in to say that he had lied about his name.”

“That lie might have been more forgivable had not it been combined with him abandoning you.”

“Perhaps. I don’t think I can say that. I simply cannot know what I would do if things were different.”

Her mother nodded. “None of us can, sweetheart. Sometimes I catch myself thinking about what it would be like if your father had not died. Would we have dozens of other children? Would we be as happy now as we were when we first felt love? Would Beatrice still live with us? Would you? Would your father have refused to let this marriage happen? Would you have eloped and defied him? So many questions, and every time I answer them, I do so in a different way.”

“Do you miss him? Father?”

“Every day.”

“You do not speak of him much. That is… because it hurts?”

Her mother let out a breath. “I thought, when Winston left, that I might offer you some advice on what it was like to have someone vanish from your life like that. I didn’t manage it, not as I wanted, mostly because… I always took comfort in the fact that your father did not choose to leave me, that he would be with me if he could have been, and that was not something you had. Winston left you. There is no denying that.”

Violet closed her eyes. “I think that is a beautiful assurance to have, even if it makes my situation a bit harder. Knowing that he would be here…”

“I should not say it because it is… Well, no, I’ll just say it, and whatever comes of it, however inappropriate, will just have to come. You do have someone who was willing to stay. Who proved that he wanted to even to the point of disinheritance.”

“Mother, that was not about me. That was about the way his father was behaving. Anyone should want to distance himself from that man and his name, should want no part of that man’s legacy, especially knowing what we do about what he did to Aunt Beatrice.”

“Yes, that,” her mother said, her lips pursing into a thin line. “I think it will take some time for all of us to forgive her for her silence, always wondering about the way things could be if she had only said something.”

“She is not the one to blame. She could have been right about me. I might not have listened.”

“No, you still should have been told. I see that now. I know where the fault lies.” Beatrice kept herself stiff as she walked into the room, crossing over to them. “I cannot express the way I felt when I realized that RJ had betrayed me. I entered into our courtship with the expectation that we would work toward him asking me for my hand. He did, but what he did besides that was rather… humiliating. What he wrote in those letters… I believe they were all lies. He spoke of a woman he’d thought he’d loved who refused him, and I pitied him. I wanted to help him over that pain. It was not that woman who rejected him. He abandoned her as he did the other, as he did me and perhaps others. I doubt he was faithful to your Robbie’s mother. I am not sure he is capable of such a thing. When I think of that time, I am ashamed even though he was the one in the wrong. I see so many ways where I let myself be vulnerable to him and his lies. I let him use me. That is what I was ashamed to speak of, and so I let it hurt you instead because of that man that claimed to be his son. Oh, he is more like RJ than Robbie proved to be. Were I to pick the imposter, I would say it was Robbie because that man has more decency than any son of RJ Wilson would ever manage.”

Violet frowned. She rose, walking to the window. “Is it possible that the lawyer’s delay is not intentional?”

“What? I thought—I confess, I have been too focused on what your aunt was saying. Why are you asking about—”

“Robbie was attacked. Winston could be here. He could have hurt the lawyer this time. It is possible, isn’t it?”

“Lord, I hope not. We’d better call his office again and then the police if he does not answer.”

“And the inn,” Violet said, her hand going to her stomach. She knew her mother and aunt were watching her. “Robbie was supposed to come this afternoon, after I saw the lawyer. He could be in danger as well.”

Author’s Note: So I didn’t want to post anything today, but I thought I should post this since the story is getting closer to the end. It’s important to have an end, after all.

Fumbling for an Answer… and a Bit More

“Would I…” Robert faltered, not certain how to answer her or if he dared do so. He was not able to know his own feelings, did not know what to think. So many things about Violet were admirable—beautiful, even—and she was someone he wanted to know so much more of, a person he hated hurting and wanted to see each day, someone he missed when she was not with him. Those things wanted to say one thing when a more reasonable side tried to remind him that he was penniless, that they were strangers, that their situation was too complex for them to expect any kind of uninfluenced decision, and yet he did not think himself all that biased. “Is that what you wanted to ask me when you said we should come outside?”

She shook her head, letting out a sigh. “I don’t… It’s not that, not precisely. It’s a bit more… Oh, I suppose it was rather cowardly to ask you instead of saying what I meant to say. I don’t know why it is so hard to do this. I’m supposed to be strong, aren’t I?”

“You are, though you’re looking quite peaked. Are you certain that you meant to ask me that?”

“I… I didn’t. I was not planning on it. You distracted me. Please don’t tease, not now. This is not something that I can say with… I can’t do it if you tease me, and I need to say it. I have to before this goes any further, before… before I lose my nerve.”

He frowned, taking her hand and placing his good one against her cheek. She trembled, and he withdrew his hand. “Violet, what is it?”

“I kept saying that I didn’t want to marry you, that I didn’t want to make another mistake. I didn’t want to do anything that would… No rushing, no making the same bad choice, even if I thought… It is true that now I see more of the little hints he gave me that he wasn’t who he said he was, and I should probably have seen it, but I did end up making that decision too soon. He kept asking, and I kept wanting to say yes just to stop him, and I did think I loved him, but I know if I had only been a bit stronger, if I’d waited just that short bit longer, then I’d never have married him. I wouldn’t have. That is part of why my aunt’s admission hurts so much. I had doubts. If I’d known, then maybe I would not have made the choice I did. Yet, I cannot blame her. It was my choice. I just don’t…”

Robert put his hands on her arms. “Calm down. You don’t have to—It’s all right. I understand. I’m not expecting you to marry me, and you don’t have to justify why you don’t want to. That is a valid choice. It’s not something you have to explain. Even if I had said yes a moment ago, you would not be under any sort of obligation to me.”

“I know. It’s just that… The more of the memories you said were yours, the more I learned that what I liked about him, what I loved, that it was you and not him—I thought maybe you were the one I loved all along. It was confusing, upsetting, so wrong… I don’t… Sometimes I still feel like that’s what it is, that it’s the parts of you that he stole that I… That am only attracted to you because of them.”

Robert sat back. That was a bit of a blow—not only was it difficult to control his reaction to her being attracted to him, she had confused him a great deal by saying she thought she loved Winston because of… well, because of him. How was he supposed to react to that? What did he say or think? Did he want to be the reason she’d loved that man? He did not know.

“Oh.”

She grimaced. “I am sorry. I had prepared a whole speech, but when I started and you teased me, I lost it. All I could do was stumble and stammer. Then we were both distracted by the legal implications of what he’d done, and then you said something and… I didn’t… It… I sound so foolish, so stupid…”

“I don’t blame you for being confused. It… I don’t know how to feel about you, either.”

“About me?”

He returned his hand to her cheek. “Yes, about you. You are a strong, admirable woman, and you are beautiful because of that strength and all your other wonderful qualities. It’s… I didn’t want them telling me I should marry you, didn’t want that feeling to be anything like an obligation.”

“And is it? Is it an obligation?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t think so, and yet I don’t know if we would have this between us if we weren’t in these circumstances, if it weren’t for him stealing my name and doing this harm to you. I’m still trying to be sure, but it’s…”

“Hard. Yes. I know.” She rose, crossing with her uneven gait to the bush and taking a flower in her hand, closing her eyes. “That is why I almost wish that we could make that all disappear for a moment. That we could forget Winston and what he’d done. My aunt and what she didn’t say. The baby. That for a moment it would just be me and you in this garden…”

He nodded, standing. He thought perhaps he had better get her back to the bench before anything happened to her or the child. “That would make things seem so… terribly simple.”

She turned back to look at him. “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“I know what it was like to kiss him. I think I had better know what it is like with you.”
He feared it would be too easy to acquiesce to that request. He would like to know what it was like to kiss her. This would not be some rushed kiss as he tricked a poor girl out of pie, no. He would be wanting so much more from Violet, taking so much more.

“This could be more confusing than what we were discussing before, you know. If we don’t do this, we might have an easier time ending our confusion. I think that we might not want to do this. I do want to, I want to more than I want to admit to, but I am afraid if we do, then we won’t know if it is love or not.”

She sighed, coming back toward the bench. “Yes, I suppose you are right. I don’t want to make this more confusing or to make another mistake. I can’t let that happen.”

He started to nod, but then he did the worst thing possible. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers—or he tried to. He bumped her stomach and missed his target, not sure if he had touched her cheek or her ear. “I’m sorry.”

She laughed. “No, no, that was… It was sweet and funny all at the same time.”

“How is it sweet that I somehow forgot you were pregnant when I tried to kiss you?”

“I think you are rather appealing when you are clumsy. It is honest and rather rare for a man to let himself be seen in such a way. You always have to be so strong and confident and not at all hesitant or clumsy. Or am I wrong about that? The only man I knew well before was… Well…”

He wrapped an arm her waist, stepping just a bit behind her, trying to make certain he accounted for her stomach this time, before he bent to meet her lips. He caught that scent of flowers, taking a deep breath as he prepared to see how she tasted. Sweet, perhaps like honey, though he would not know what that was like after being denied it for so long.

She pulled back, licking her lips. “You were right.”

“What?”

“It is more confusing now.”

He smiled, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. “Yes, it is. It’s probably the most confusing thing I have ever felt. I want to say that should make it love, but I think that is… That’s not an assumption that we should make right now.”

“No, it is not. Let us… We should take time and distance to consider this and all of its implications,” she told him, glancing back toward the house. “Tomorrow I shall speak to the lawyer. I should have waited, not asked for that before I did speak to him. I… I don’t know that I’m not married, and even with all Winston did—”

“You are not the only one who faltered. This is not your burden alone, and while I cannot help but think we have biased whatever decision you might have made after speaking to the lawyer, I cannot regret it as much as we both know I should. Even if that is all I ever have, I shall hold onto its memory—and yours.”

She blushed. “Oh, Robbie. If I were only certain—”

“As much as I think I’d want to hear that, we should stop now and go our separate ways. You have a great deal to think about, and I don’t want to bias you further.”

She smiled. “It might be too late for that.”

He returned her smile, knowing as he did that he shouldn’t. They had already taken too many liberties, come too close to things that they had no right to do, and he did not want that guilt for either of them.
“I will see you tomorrow. After you’ve seen the lawyer. Not before. Or… I think I should wait for the day after. That is better, isn’t it?”

“Come tomorrow,” she said, stepping up to kiss his cheek. He felt her stomach bump him, but it just made him smile. “Promise?”

“Promise.”