 
### The Queen's Decision

### By

### Mac Zazski

### Smashwords Edition

### ***

### Copyright 2014 Mac Zazski

***

Discover other titles by Mac Zazski at Smashwords.com

***

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or it was purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

### Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

### Chapter 1

Alex, King of Zambelia, awoke in the gray/blue twilight of early morning and peered down at his wife as she lay sprawled across his chest. He smiled for a moment, reveling in the sight of her nude form draped so gracefully upon him, her auburn hair fanned out about his chest, her face up turned towards him. How he loved her face, that beautiful visage had enchanted him since he had first seen her, so perfect in repose, so delicate. He ever so gently reached down and stroked her hair, the silken mass gliding like water through his fingers.

With regret, he twisted slowly from beneath her, lowering her gently to the mattress. Just as he was about to rise, her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him a moment before a tender smile turned her lips upwards in a subtle curve.

"Are you leaving me?" she asked softly, wrapping her arms about him and placing her chin upon his chest.

"You know how much I hate to leave you," he said truthfully, "but I promised Albert that I would answer the dispatch I had received from the royal governor of Vesek as soon as possible. He was most anxious that I send him implicit instructions on how to deal with the nobles who are grieving him..."

Gliding up to him, she kissed him softly on the lips, the feeling of her smooth skin upon his own driving him to distraction.

"I understand my love," she whispered, nuzzling his neck, her scent causing his senses to reel.

Wrapping an arm about her waist, he pulled her towards him, his lips seeking hers, his hands exploring her body, caressing, exciting her. He heard her breath catch as his hand slid between her thighs. Locked in a passionate embrace, he gently positioned her above him and she reached between them, guiding him to her most secret place.

With a moan, she threw her head back, her arms extending and forcing her body upwards as she began to ride him. He grasped her, his large hands encircling her tiny waist as her hands clenched and unclenched on his chest, her moaning increasing in volume with each thrust until neither could contain themselves any longer. Together they reached their climax and with an oath, she lurched forward and then drifted slowly down to his chest, descending into his embrace.

"Don't leave," she gasped; her skin moist and warm to his touch.

"Oh my love," he moaned as he kissed her neck, her face, her lips.

Looking down at him, her eyes grew sad and she offered him a brave smile.

"I must not be selfish," she said softly, regretfully. "Albert would not ask you to attend to the matter as quickly as possible unless it was urgent. I must put others needs before my own. You should go."

He kissed her and then, pulling her to him, held her in his arms, never wishing to let her go.

"How I wish I could spend the rest of my life here with you, together in bed."

She laughed but squeezed him ever tighter.

"No, my love, we have responsibilities after all," she replied. "Go now, before I change my mind and never let you go. Go and tonight, we will take up where we have left off."

Closing his eyes, he nodded, feeling her body retreat from him. Slowly he rose and reached for his robe, wrapping it around him with his back to her. He could not look at her now; she was never more beautiful to him than when they had just finished making love.

"I will go and bathe," he said softly. "I will not forget what you said about tonight..."

"I will think of nothing else all day," she replied.

Slowly, Alex shuffled to the bedroom door and opened it with regret. The guard standing outside snapped to attention. Alex shook his head mournfully and then offered the guard a tight smile.

"Good morning, Joseph," he said softly.

"Good morning, sire," replied the guard.

With a sigh, Alex headed down the hall to bathe and prepare for his day.

***

Marie, Queen of Zambelia, lay in the warmth of where he husband had lain all night and smiled as the light in their bedroom grew ever so slowly. Daylight brought with it the light and life of colors that had become cold and grey during the night. She peered for a time at the curtain that separated their bedroom and sitting room and through which her husband had disappeared. She loved him so deeply she could scarcely believe her own emotions. Alex was unlike any man she had ever known and she thanked God each day for the favor of having him for her spouse.

She thought back upon the last few years of her life and it all seemed like a dream. She had felt that the death of her first husband Robert had been a blessing; he was a cruel, abusive man who beat her and their two children. She had been pregnant with their third child when Robert had beaten her and thrown her down a set of stone stairs causing her to lose both her unborn child and the ability to have more children.

She thought of her scheming brother, Jeftus, King of Vesek. It was he who had arranged for her to become the royal consort of the King of Zambelia in order to stop the disastrous war that had brought her country ruin. Originally, she was to have married Alex' father, King Joseph, but when Joseph suddenly died, she was betrothed to the new king, his son, who was more than ten years her junior. Entering the marriage, she had intended to do no more than her duty, but despite her reservations, she found herself falling in love with Alex. He was all she had ever dreamed of in a husband and lover and he loved her son Jonathan and daughter Annalisse as much as he did her.

When her brother Jeftus once again declared war on Zambelia, she had lived in fear for months that her beloved would never return to her and he almost had not. She shuddered, thinking of him being brought back to his castle at Wharton, his body cut and torn. She had nursed him back to health, she and the children never leaving his side.

It was after his recovery that he had defied the advice of his counsel and had proclaimed her his Queen. Alex had also named Jonathan a prince and Annalisse a princess which had caused a great deal of resentment and anger from many of the hereditary nobles. She had heard of many jealous and angry accusations aimed at her and her children by those who felt they had usurped their positions.

Alex' actions had spurred many wild rumors regarding who would succeed him as king, but only Marie, his brother Ernest, his closest advisor, Albert and Albert's wife, Stasha, knew his heart in the matter. Jonathan would be his heir, but he had decided not to formally announce it until Jonathan had turned eighteen years of age.

Marie smiled, knowing better than anyone how shy her husband actually was and how he had never truly wanted to be king. He felt such empathy for his son that he would not proclaim him his successor in hopes that he might enjoy something closer to a normal childhood. Though the pressure was mounting upon him, Alex steadfastly refused to discuss the subject with anyone, preferring to protect his son.

Turning on her back, she stretched her arms over her head and smiled. She would have never thought of sleeping in the nude before, but somehow, next to the love of her life, it seemed natural. She would have to rise soon, she had many things to do today but there were still a few precious moments to enjoy in the warmth and softness of their bed. Their bed; she had given up hope on sharing anything with anyone before she had met Alex. She cared nothing for titles or riches, none of that matter. Her husband and children were all that mattered to her and as she stretched her arms once again, she could not suppress her smile; she was a truly blessed woman indeed...

***

Alex was halfway down the stairs to his study when he remembered that he had left several of last night's dispatches on the table near the fireplace in the sitting room of their chambers. Returning to the suite, he found the rooms empty, spying Marie's rust colored gown hanging on the hook outside of her wardrobe through the curtain that separated the rooms. Alex smiled; she would be off on her mission today. He had to subdue his pride slightly as he picked up the dispatches. He was not supposed to know about this aspect of Marie's charity work. Her modesty kept him from recognizing it in any fashion, but he was so proud of her that he could barely contain his words at times. With a smile, he retreated back into the hallway and down the stairs just before he heard the guards snap to attention as the Queen made her way back to their room.

***

The passageway Marie took brought her to a door just beside the gardens and then it was but a walk through an underground passage and through a thick wooden door guarded by several of the king's men. They all bowed as she appeared, quickly opening the door and saying nothing as she floated past them and out into the morning sunshine beyond. Up a winding staircase and through a grove of fruit trees, she finally obtained the gate that opened out onto a worn dirt path that led down into the village. She had gone but a short way when she encountered an enormous man standing beside a tree.

He was not quite as tall as her Alex, his round, bald head sitting upon a heavily muscled neck and large, powerful shoulders. He wore a black mustache and his dark eyes seemed to possess no whites, giving him a fierce, angry look. He was dressed in worn boots and brown, worn pants with a white smock which seemed to be working hard to cover his massive upper body. He stood holding a straw hat in his hands and he stared intently at the Queen as she approached. Looking up at him, she could not contain her smile.

"Brogdan, what are you supposed to be today?" she asked.

"I'm disguised as a farmer, your highness," he replied in a deep, heavy voice.

Marie circled him, shaking her head, "You look nothing like a farmer. You look like a soldier pretending to be a farmer. No, I'm mistaken. You look like a soldier who stole some poor farmer's clothes."

"Had a devil of a time finding these, your majesty," replied Brogdan. "Not many farmers my size..."

"Not many farms your size," she laughed. "You really don't have to go with me, you know..."

"I'm sorry, your majesty, but I've got orders," replied Brogdan. "I'm to follow you inconsiqences..."

"Inconspicuously," she grinned.

"How you said it, your highness," replied Brogdan good-naturedly. "Anyway, you're not supposed to see me, that's all I know and I'm to make sure that no one tries in any way to harm you."

"Does my love ever ask you WHERE I go?" she asked gently.

Brogdan shook his head, "Never, your majesty, not once has he asked. I tried to tell him the first time, but he held up his hand and said, "She goes to do good, I need know no more, I trust her. My only concern is for her safety, she must return to me," that's what he said and he never asks me anything but are you safe or were you bothered."

Marie smiled at the thought of her love caring so much for her and yet respecting her privacy as well. She looked at Brogdan and laughed. She had spotted him the very first time, the man's manner and look screamed soldier. When she confronted him, he begged her not to tell the king and she had agreed. Instead, he had become her helper and a friend and together they helped the less fortunate. Still, no matter what disguise he attempted, it was always Brogdan the soldier who was by her side. He had attempted being a merchant, a mule driver, a traveler, and bowman and now a farmer, but he could do nothing to hide what he was.

"Do you have a basket, your highness?" asked Brogdan softly.

Throwing back her cloak, she held a basket filled with food and flowers out to him.

"Come along," she smiled, "we do not want to be late."

"And you won't tell the king?" he asked softly, falling into step with her.

"I would never tell him," she giggled. "It would upset him to know that he employed the worlds' most obvious spy to watch over me..."

Brogdan laughed, "We all have our talent's your majesty and obviously, this isn't one of mine..."

"Well, I'm sure we BOTH appreciate your help," she replied. "And remember not to call me your majesty when we're out and about..."

"I'll try, but it's not natural..." he replied.

"Neither are you in those clothes, but we all have to try our best," she giggled.

With a sidelong glance at one another, they both laughed and continued down the lane towards their destination.

***

"I confess, I was surprised," stated Wilton. He was a boy of about thirteen, chubby, with dark hair and a round face whose expression always seemed to waver between curiosity and confusion. Throwing another pitchfork full of hay into the stall, he continued, "I admit it, but in the three months since we all started training, I've become convinced, he's one of us. To tell the truth, I don't know if I could be as nice as he is if the situations were reversed..."

"I've liked him from the first," replied Randy, another boy of the same age. He was slightly taller, thin and gangly, his red hair forming a halo around his face in the early morning sun. He stopped a moment to wipe his brow with a large, gray handkerchief, "He never says anything about being a prince. He cleans the stables, waters and feeds the horses and is always first to run errands. I like Jonathan, he's quiet, but I really like him."

"I'm glad that the three of us are squires together," stated Wilton, rubbing the sweat from his round face with his shirt sleeve. "Lord Albert doesn't show him any favors, that's for sure, but I kind of like it that way. It's just the three of us, working and learning together. I think we're a good team. I don't mind telling you I had my worries..."

"Well I'm glad he's on our team too," replied Randy. "Besides, he's not all that quiet, not really. No one talks as much as you, but he can tell a joke."

"What do you mean no one talks as much as me?" replied Wilton. "You'd talk too if all Lord Albert had you doing was announcing people half the day. I thought I would be allowed to talk, to make comments, but no, all you do is repeat whatever it is they tell you to say and then stand there and say nothing at all. You're not even allowed to ask questions, you just stand there! It's the most boring part for me of being a squire..."

"Good morning, Wilton, good morning, Randy," called out Jonathan as he wandered towards his two friends, pitchfork in hand.

"Good morning, your highness," replied Wilton and Randy.

"Don't call me that," replied Jonathan softly, checking over his shoulders to see if anyone else was present, "not here anyway. I'm just Jonathan here and I'm glad of it. Did you see the entertainment last night?"

"Of course we did," replied Randy with a laugh. "Who do you think was serving the wine and the water while you sat in your fancy clothes?"

"I'd have rather served the wine and water," smiled Jonathan with a roll of his eyes. "At least you didn't have to sit there for hours on end while your backside falls asleep."

"You did look rather bored," replied Wilton.

"Annalisse loves those things, but I find them very boring," confessed Jonathan. "I always feel like a suit of armor set on display for everyone to see. There is no reason for it, I tell you, in fact it makes about as much sense as displaying armor. What's the point of displaying armor? Either put it on and fight or put it away, I say. It makes more sense to hang up a tapestry than to display armor and I have no wish to be a tapestry."

"I heard that Lady Antewon has a tapestry of a woman with no clothes on," whispered Wilton knowingly. "You can see everything."

"Everything?" asked Randy breathlessly.

"Well, everything that the unicorn doesn't cover up," replied Wilton.

"Have you seen it?" asked Jonathan, glancing about to make sure that they were not being overheard.

"Well, no," replied Wilton, "but I heard it from Thomas who is always a reliable source. Remember, he told us about that root vegetable that looked like Lord Ancrin..."

"All root vegetables look like Lord Ancrin," replied Randy. "The man looks like a root vegetable..."

"Yes, I know, but Thomas is trustworthy."

"Did Thomas see it?" asked Jonathan, trying to keep the conversation on track.

"Well, I'm not sure," replied Wilton. "We weren't really discussing tapestries at that point. See, I was telling him how much I'd like to see a naked woman and he said he'd seen one..."

"DID HE?" gasped Randy.

"Yes, his cousin," replied Wilton in an excited whisper. "He said she came to visit his home a year or so ago and she went out to swim in a lake near the house and his mother said, don't go down there because she is swimming. Well, they had always swum together, so he couldn't think of why it would matter if they were to swim together now and as the day was hot, he decided to go down for a swim as well. It was then that he found out why his mother wanted him not to go; she was swimming with nothing on!"

"By the dragon's tail," whispered Randy. "Did he see her?"

"He said she was just getting out of the water and he was off to the side of the path so that she could not see him," replied Wilton, his voice dropping into a confidential tone. "He said he saw everything; all the choice bits!"

"Which cousin was it?" asked Jonathan.

"He did not say," replied Wilton. "Why, does it matter? They all have the same choice bits, don't they?"

"Well," replied Jonathan, "he's got two cousins that I know of; if it was his cousin Ellen, he's a lucky man indeed, but if it was his cousin Heather, I feel sorry for him."

"Which one is Heather?" asked Randy.

"Do you remember the ball last month where we all served?" asked Jonathan.

"Yes, what about it?" asked Randy.

"Do you remember the girl with the golden hair in the bright pink gown?"

Randy broke into a large smile, "Do I ever, she was gorgeous. She was so pretty; I even wished I knew how to dance just so that I could ask her!"

"That was his cousin Ellen," replied Jonathan. "Now do you remember the girl in the blue, velvet gown with white shoes?"

Wilton frowned, "The one who punched Lord Chester's son in the stomach for not giving her a cookie fast enough?"

"That one," replied Jonathan with a nod. "She is his cousin Heather..."

"Leather would be a better name," laughed Randy. Looking at Jonathan, his eyes suddenly sparkled, "Jonathan, can I ask you something?"

"Of course..."

Randy drew closer, "Is it true that you danced with Lord Parker's wife, the Lady Gertrude?"

Jonathan smiled proudly, "Yes, I did. In fact, when we arrived here, I was even her escort to a ball one evening. It was the first ball I had ever attended and she walked in on my arm..."

"By the dragon's tail," moaned Wilton. "I cannot even imagine speaking to her, never mind holding her hand to dance. She is the greatest beauty in the kingdom! You know Lord Parker was a squire for your father, just like us! I'm telling you, if THAT is who you get to marry when you are the king's squire; I'm SOOO happy to be a king's squire!"

The other two boys joined in his laughter.

"She is beautiful and very nice as well," added Jonathan. "She always says hello and asks me how I am, even when it isn't some sort of formal event or anything. She's one of my Mother's ladies in waiting, but she's just like a regular person, it's almost as if she doesn't know she's beautiful..."

"Nice and beautiful," mused Wilton, shaking his head. "I ask you, why can't all girls be like that?"

"Too many of them are like "Leather" if you ask me," stated Randy. "Some of the pretty ones are even WORSE than "Leather"!"

"It will be leather for all of you if you don't get some work done," snapped Lord Albert, startling the three of them out of their laughter. He seemed to have appeared from nowhere, suddenly materializing behind Jonathan. "I leave you alone and this is what I find you doing? Gossiping about girls?"

"Sorry, milord," mumbled Jonathan quickly, the three of them turning bright red.

"Back to work now," stated Albert, working hard not to laugh. "Enough foolishness, I can assure you that the king does not want gossiping fishwives for squires, he wants young men who show a little initiative and discretion!"

The three immediately scattered, going back to work on the stalls with a vengeance. Albert turned away to hide his smile from them. He was a handsome man, with thick, wavy gray hair and kind, dark eyes. Well proportioned, energetic, Albert was the king's chief advisor and second father. He and his wife Stasha, who was lady in waiting to Marie, were the royal couple's closest companions next to the king's brother Ernest and the substitute grandparents to Annalisse and Jonathan.

Albert watched the boys as, in their embarrassment, they plunged into their work. Oh to be young again, he thought. Discovery is what life is all about and those three had so much to discover yet. He looked back at them working diligently, such good boys, all of them, good boys.

### Chapter 2

The two women could see the villagers marching through the pitch blackness that had engulfed the forest, torches held high as they advanced on the house from both the front and the side. Illuminated by the torches they carried alone, the crowds faces were distorted by weird and savage shadows, the air filled with smoke and the loud and angry shouts of the crowd.

"They'll be here in a minute, Elizabeth," whispered the older of the women urgently. "What are we going to do?"Dropping the curtain, she began wringing her hands rapidly, "I am too old for this..."

Behind her stood a woman of uncommon beauty, her long blonde hair cascading down her back, her snug fitting dress revealing an enviable figure. Her face was as perfect as her form and her dark eyes were filled with a soft glow as she watched the lights drawing nearer.

"So they figured things out at last," she mused. "Oh well, I suppose even fools must be allowed their occasional say..."

"They're going to do a lot more than say," growled the older woman. "They're going to kill us..."

"They'll want to kill us, but they won't," replied Elizabeth. "You forget that I possess the gift..."

"Imperfectly," snarled the older woman. "If you had only studied..."

The younger woman's eye's flared as she spoke, "I refuse to be instructed by those who are less intelligent! All that you have you owe to me and my gift!"

Pulling back the curtain the old woman pointed at the angry crowd, "Including that!"

Stepping away from the window, the older woman looked longingly at the rear door of the small home before moaning, "Why did you have to abuse them? Your gift could enhance life and yet you use it to destroy it. With your gift we could make friends and live in peace and comfort but no, you have to cause problems, you want to be noble..."

"I will not muck in with the simple folk," sneered Elizabeth. "I am noble..."

"You know you are not noble born..." began the older woman.

"Enough!" snapped Elizabeth. "They are almost here, it is time to leave."

Turning quickly, she stooped and picked up a small sack that held all of her necessary possessions. Another retreat, another escape, her mind raged, well next time will be different. Fools, ignorant fools, she would have her revenge...

The older woman turned to follow but found her legs unable to move. Grabbing at her thighs, she tried frantically to lift her feet from the floor but found them stuck as if bound to it by chains.

"Elizabeth!" she hissed, her realization swiftly followed by a blind terror.

"They will need someone on whom to take out their anger," stated Elizabeth, a wicked smile darkening her features. "I've grown tired of your insolence, so we part company here."

"ELIZABETH!" screamed the older woman, but Elizabeth was already out the back door and headed for the woods.

The older woman screamed as the window beside her shattered, the torch thrown through it igniting the curtains before it landed on the floor just a few feet from her. As more torches came through the windows, the sound of breaking glass competed with her screams until the sound of the spreading flames drown out her cries completely. Within minutes the room and the woman were aflame.

In the woods behind the house, Elizabeth turned once to look at the flames and then continued down the path. She would have to leave the country, she would head south to the former Kingdom of Vesek; it would be safe there. It would be a long journey, but she would start anew and if the reports she had heard were correct, this new land offered some interesting opportunities.

Hearing the sound of rushing steps, she placed her bag on the ground, swiftly running her hands through her long blonde hair. As she did so, her hair changed to a dark, matted red. Sweeping her hands down the front of her dress, her body began to bloat, becoming heavier and shorter, the cloth of the dress expanding and turning to a worn blue as if it had been washed too many times. Turning, she faced the villagers who were running up behind her as she wiped her hand across her beautiful face. When she removed her hand her face appeared bloated, old and heavy.

"I seen her," she yelled in a rasping voice, pointing down the path. "She was headed that way, down there! It was the old one, I couldn't hold her, she had a knife..."

"You're sure?" yelled out one of the men. He stopped before her and examined her under the light of the torch.

"She was running away," replied Elizabeth. "She said the sorceress was still in the house. She went that way..."

"Come on men, after her!" snapped the man and the group took off at a run.

Elizabeth watched them fade quickly into the darkness. When the footsteps had died away, she smiled and turned south towards Vesek. In Vesek she would seek out her true future, the future of one nobly born...

***

It was a small house, tumble down but clean inside. The hearth was swept and the small table, though worn and nicked, held a vase filled with wild flowers. The elderly woman who sat at the table was thin and bent, her white hair sparse, her skin pale save for the dark spots that freckled her forehead. Her dark eyes stared out of deep sockets that sat on either side of a prominent nose. Wrapped in a dark, worn shawl, she stared at the beautiful woman and large, strange looking farmer who stood in the doorway.

Slowly stretching her withered arm forward, she took the small leather bag from the woman and smiled a toothless smile.

"Thank you, m'dear," she said in a whispery voice. "Can't work anymore, too old and I've got no one..."

"I don't want you to worry about that," replied the beautiful lady with a smile. "Is the boy running errands for you as we arranged?"

The old woman nodded, "He's a good boy, won't take anything for all the work he does, a good boy he is..."

"And the woman, does she bring you your food every night?"

"And at lunchtime, too... She makes the food soft, I can't chew too well on account of I have no teeth anymore..."

"I know, dear, it's all right," said the beautiful lady. "As long as you're feeling better and eating, that's all that matters. Now I'll be back next week, if you need anything in the meantime you tell the boy and he'll come fetch me, all right?"

"Yes, my dear, of course," whispered the old woman. Grasping the beautiful lady's hand, her eyes began to tear, "I don't know why you're so good to me, you don't even know me..."

"You deserve some happiness, my dear. You've worked so hard, now I want you to rest..."

The beautiful lady rose and leaning over, kissed the old lady on top of the head. Quickly she swept out of the door, the large odd looking farmer following behind her.

"We must get back to Wharton now," said Marie regretfully as they began walking down the street. "I have a meeting with the Duke to discuss finances."

"So only sixteen today," grinned Brogdan. "And tomorrow..."

"There are always more to help," replied Marie, "but I can't forget about my obligations at court. His majesty dislikes finance, for all of his many good qualities he has no patience with numbers. It is just a way to help him..."

"And everyone else in the kingdom," replied Brogdan. "We're fortunate to have you, milady, that's a fact."

Marie smiled, "I'm the fortunate one. I live in a beautiful home with a beautiful family with a kind and generous husband. I will never take that for granted, Brogdan. I know from experience how bad things can be, I will never be less than thankful for how good they are..."

***

A knock at the study door brought a smile to Alex' face as he rose to his feet. Opening the door, he peered out into the hallway and saw no one but the guard standing beside the door, an amused look on his face.

"Did you knock, Sebastian?" he asked.

"No, sire, I did not," replied Sebastian, playing his part.

"Did you hear a knock?" asked Alex.

"Yes sire, I did," replied Sebastian, "but I did not knock."

"If you did not knock, than who could have knocked?" asked Alex, placing a hand to his chin.

From behind Sebastian sprang Alex' daughter Annalisse laughing happily. Her long blonde hair caught the sunlight streaming from the window behind her and illuminating her pretty face as she raced into her father's arms.

"I knocked, that's who!" she cried out happily as her father pulled her close and covered her face with kisses.

"Stop it, Daddy, stop it," she giggled. "Your beard tickles!"

"Have you been standing out here all this time?" asked Alex as he swept her up in his arms and brought her into the study, depositing her on a chair near his desk.

"No Daddy, I was with Lady Gertrude, she was teaching me about different places this morning," said Annalisse happily. "Did you know that there are places where people live all over the world, not just here? And I'm not even talking about Vesek; I'm talking about places far, far away, places with silly names like Ankonobra and Spantulula!"

"Those are islands..." smiled Alex.

"Well, I don't see how people can live there," she stated, shaking her head. "They are only this big on the map." She held up her hand and showed him a space about a quarter of an inch big between her thumb and index finger. "Who can live on something that small?"

"Maybe they are small people," reasoned Alex.

"Small," countered Annalisse with a dismissive wave of her hand. "They would all have to be babies, Daddy, for them to have any room at all! No, from what Lady Gertrude says, the maps show things in miniature, so those places aren't REALLY that small, it's just a picture of them that is that small. Like the picture that man made of Mommy, it looks like Mommy but it's bigger than Mommy, the one you put in the main hallway? Well this is the same thing only backwards. It looks like the country, but it is smaller than the country."

"I see," replied Alex.

"You should listen to Lady Gertrude," stated Annalisse authoritatively. "She knows all about important things. Did you know that silk comes from worms? Little worms make it a thread at a time! And your sleeve, that's made from a plant!"

"Really," replied Alex, fascinated.

"And did you know that some birds, like turkeys, are good to eat, but some birds are no good for eating at all, like an owl."

"You can't eat an owl?" asked Alex.

"No, they taste terrible," stated Annalisse. "I think it's because they have big brains and eyes. I suppose it would be like eating a person, I'm not sure. I should ask Lady Gertrude, she would know."

"And didn't Stasha teach you anything today?" asked Alex.

"She is teaching me how to embroider a handkerchief and how to pick flowers and how to make tea," replied Annalisse, counting off each thing on her fingers. "Oh, that's why I came to get you; you have to come to lunch."

"Well, I would love to darling but..."

"No buts," interrupted Annalisse with a shake of her head. "Stasha said that I have to bring you back or she'll let you know what's good for you."

Alex laughed, "Wait a minute; I thought I was the King!"

"Not when Stasha's around," replied Annalisse confidentially. "Like Albert says, "Whatever Stasha says goes!" so come on and let's go to lunch before you get into trouble."

"Well, I don't want to get in trouble," replied Alex.

Standing, Annalisse extended her hand to him, "Well, if you don't, then come on now."

Rising obediently, he took his daughter's hand as she led him out of the room and down the hallway talking happily about all of the things she had learned today. Halfway down the hall, Alex swept her up in his arms and gave her a great big kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?" she giggled.

"Because you're the best girl in the world," he replied, kissing her again.

Putting her back down, she took his hand again and began leading him down the hall to his lunch.

### Chapter 3

"It's over there," crabbed the old crone, leaning upon a crutch and pointing towards the longest wooden dock.

"And you're sure that the count died?" asked Elizabeth.

The old crone laughed, a harsh, coughing croak, "The nobles THEIR king didn't kill in battle, OUR king killed for treason! If it is death you want, dearie, you've come to the right land, that I can tell you. They're all dead, dearie, all the nobles are dead and good riddance to them..."

Elizabeth wandered down the dock, her dark dress dusty and stained. It had taken her a week of walking, from the plains through the mountain pass and out to the seashore to get here. If it had not been for her magic, she would have starved. She had seen people along the highway starving, but she had merely pressed on, careful not to reveal herself or show that she had food with her. Besides, no one knew how people might greet a sorceress and there was no sense taking chances. She was tired of the constant begging of those who were starving and she had no desire to share her food or fortunes with any of them.

She had decided to leave her hair red for the time being though she had dismissed the other changes she had made that night. If one is beautiful, one should appear beautiful, she thought. Running her hand through her long locks, she reflected upon the last few days. She had spent a great deal of time pumping this old crone and others for information. She had gravitated to this old woman the most, however; she had been a valuable resource regarding the condition of the land of Vesek.

Everything that Elizabeth had learned seemed only to reinforce her plan and make it seem not only viable, but all so easy. She had always asserted that she had been born a noble; she must be of noble blood for she was far too beautiful and far too important to have been born of the common rabble as her family would have her believe. Now she would take the opportunity to make her belief and her reality one.

Walking down the creaking dock slowly, she took in the smells of the place, of the fish and nets, of the sea and the sweat of the fishermen. She frowned as she approached the end of the dock and peered out into the sea, catching sight of a distant isle about a mile from the shore. A fat fisherman carrying a net from his ship waddled down the dock, headed towards town. Stopping the fat fisherman, she pointed to the isle.

"What is that?" she asked.

The man stared at her for a moment, captivated by her beauty and then turned to peer out into the sea to where she was pointing.

"That?" asked the man, "That dot on the water there?"

"Yes," she replied. "What is that?"

"That's the Isle of Keneon, miss," replied the man. "Used to be the count's stronghold before the war, but now the castle is empty and falling down. The count is dead you see, and there is nothing there anymore, miss..."

"And the count's family?" asked the woman.

"Didn't have any, he was last of the line," replied the fisherman. "No one left there but old Ellen and her husband. Used to run the count's household, they did, but now, they're just waiting for something to happen, don't know what though..."

Elizabeth stepped closer to him, her eyes flashing, "Can you take me there, to the isle?"

The fisherman frowned, "I have me own boat, I suppose I could, but why would you want to go there, miss? Nothing to see, everything abandoned..."

The beautiful woman smiled and looked past him to the dark mass set on the ocean. Best to start here, with the simplest inhabitants; it would take them longest to learn the new order of things. She never liked the name Elizabeth, so if she were going to change personas, why not get rid of everything she did not care for?

"Because I am the Countess Susan of Keneon..."

The fisherman laughed, "You're mad, there is no "Countess of Keneon", miss. Everyone knows that the count was the last of his line; he was a lifelong bachelor and they say he died in the war though the truth is he died running away from it. He had no children and no family. You've been traveling too much in the sun without a hat..."

The newly named Susan drew closer to the man and placed a hand on either side of his face, staring into his eyes intently.

"I am the count's daughter, Susan, the Countess of Keneon," she stated.

The fisherman stared, opened mouth, his eyes glassy.

"You are the count's daughter..."

"I am the Countess of Keneon," she repeated.

He nodded in dazed manner, "The Countess of Keneon..."

***

Jonathan took a deep breath and rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky. He blinked slowly, trying to get his bearings, how had he ended up here? Raising his head, he scanned the immediate area and found Wilton lying on his back, off to his right. The sound of footsteps alerted him to the approach of Randy and Albert coming in from his left. Randy appeared slightly concerned, Albert was laughing.

"What in the name of all that is holy was that?" asked Albert over his laughter.

Jonathan looked down at the wooden sword in his right hand. Flexing his left hand, he felt his wooden shield still upon his arm. Randy reached down to help him up while Albert performed the same service for Wilton.

Now on their feet, the two boys glanced at each other before looking at Albert who was fighting to gain control of his laughter and then to Randy who shrugged, unsure of what was so funny.

"All right," wheezed Albert, "all right..." He knelt down on his right knee and shook his head, his laughter subsiding. "Do either of you know what you did?"

Wilton looked blankly at Jonathan, who shrugged, "I attempted to strike Wilton's shield with my sword, milord and then duck beneath my own shield in order to pivot behind him..."

"And Wilton?" asked Albert.

"I attempted the same thing, milord," replied Wilton.

"And as you both pivoted at the same time, you bumped backsides and sent each other sprawling," chuckled Albert. "Oh, my lads, you will be the death of me. What is the first thing that I spoke to you about this morning?"

"Anticipate your adversary," stated Randy.

"Exactly!" cried Albert. "Anticipate your adversary! You both got so caught up in what you were going to do next that you forgot to think of what your opponent might do! Remember what we discussed, combat is not only action, but reaction! It is offense AND defense. I have seen many a brave warrior lose his life on the battlefield because he failed to remember that his opponent was not just someone he was fighting against but defending against as well! Now both of you, if I strike your shield and begin to pivot under my own, what is the proper defense?"

"To step back with your lead foot and thrust down with your sword," the boys said in unison.

"And why do we do that?" asked Albert.

"Because it will position your shield for defense and you might catch your opponent with his back to you," stated Randy.

"And what happens when you instead, pivot into your opponent?" smiled Albert.

"You end up lying in the mud," replied Wilton, swiping at the grime on his tunic.

"Or worse," replied Albert. "If your opponent fails to lose his balance, you are laying on the ground, possibly with your back to him with no chance of defending yourself." Shaking his head, Albert chuckled, "Very well, my lads, very well. Enough for today; go and get cleaned up and gets some lunch and then off to see Master Anthony for your lessons."

The boys lined up, bowed to Albert and took off in a sprint towards the barracks building that framed the left side of the courtyard. As they entered the barracks, two of the king's guards were sitting at a long table eating their lunch.

"Here are our future replacements," laughed the larger of the two, a huge strapping man with wild red hair and a thick beard. "How did the training go today, milords?"

"It could have gone better," replied Wilton, swiping again at the grime on his chest.

"Got yourself a little dirty I see," replied the smaller of the two men, a stocky, heavyset clean shaven man with short dark hair and enormous black eyebrows. "You'll see plenty of dirt as a squire, it's all part of the training..."

"He's right," smiled the large man, "you'll see plenty of mud. Are you listening to the Lord Albert, my young fellows?"

"Yes sir," they all responded as they poured water into wash basins and began to clean their faces and hands.

"Good, good," replied the guard. "There's no better teacher. Now come along, finish your cleaning and have something to eat. Even the bravest warriors must have lunch."

The two guards laughed as the boys dried their faces and hands and sat down at the table.

Jonathan smiled at his two friends and the two guards. Here he was just like everyone else, learning and joking and just one of the men. It was nothing like the training he had endured under his father's family. He shuddered, thinking of the brutality and harshness. For a moment, he remembered the well, but he forced himself not to think of it, that was the past; that would never happen again. Albert would never subject them to something like that, no matter how important it was to learn...

Looking at Wilton and then at Randy as they began speaking with the guards his smile returned. He was being trained to be a warrior, not a murderer like his dead father and his family. He listened to the guards speaking with his friends, heard the warmth in their gruff, friendly voices. They had gone through this, had made mistakes, had learned their craft and were encouraging them to do the same.

Leaning back, the smell of the food as the servant brought it to the table caught his attention. He felt the warmth of the fire and the sturdiness of the bench beneath him and enjoyed the feeling as he relaxed in the atmosphere of camaraderie that surrounded him. Picking up his fork, he began to eat with the others, listening as the guards recalled their own errors, laughing loudly at their own stories, almost proud of their failures and mistakes. He could not help but think, he would rather be here than at any "entertainment" given for any prince who had ever lived.

***

The Lord Ernest, Prince of the Realm, advisor to the king and problem creator at large, slowed, drawing his horse to a halt and bringing the small group of men he was with to a halt. Ernest, the king's closest friend, trusted companion and younger brother, had been sent to inspect the progress being made in the former kingdom, now the province of Vesek, the lands conquered in the last war. With the royal governor and several companions, Ernest had set out to see a hunting lodge owned by the former king in order to complete the obligations of his report and return home. Recently engaged, his lone wish was to return as soon as possible to his beloved Donna and to marry her as quickly as possible. Time was of the essence, who could say when she might come to her senses, he reasoned. He longed to hold her, to smell the scent of her hair and hear the ring of her laughter.

Shorter than the king by a head, chubby, with a clean shaven and boyish face, Ernest smiled at his companions and asked, "Is this the road of which you have spoken?"

The horsemen around him drew closer; staring at the stone road as it slowly disappeared, withering away beneath encroaching dirt and debris.

The Royal Governor of Vesek drew closer, "Aye, milord, if you will follow me..."

Gently nudging his horse forward, he began leading his companions along a narrowing path until they arrived at a large wrought iron gate hanging eschew from its hinges. Dismounting, the governor tied his horse to the gate and wandered forward, eyeing the land between the main gate and the guard houses that stood on either side of road further up ahead.

"I walked guard here," he murmured to Ernest. "Was a pretty enough place once, but now, look at this mess..."

"What was here, milord?" asked one of the guards who stood slightly behind him.

It took the governor a moment to realize that the guard was addressing him. He had been one of King Jeftus' guards before being picked by King Alex to be the royal governor of Vesek and receiving a knighthood, so to be addressed as "milord" was still quite new to him. He had no idea that one of the last prisoners he had detained for King Jeftus was the Lord Ernest in disguise, but Ernest made no mention of the fact. Better to let the man forget his past, he was his brother's governor now...

"It was the king's hunting lodge," replied the governor. "He would entertain here when he was a prince; have parties with his friends, back when he had friends. When the wars came, he would retreat here occasionally until it became uncomfortable for him. In the beginning, villagers would come here and wait by the gates to petition him. Later, as the war went from bad to worse, they came to jeer him, so he stopped making the journey here. There was a staff here that cared for the place, but from the look of things, they left quite a while ago."

"Probably about the time we invaded," mused Ernest. "I don't recall a report on this place, but if I am correct, this would have been closest to our left wing and I was part of the right wing..."

"They probably abandoned the place when your troops arrive, milord and because it is back here in the woods, it went undiscovered," remarked the captain of the guards.

"Possibly," murmured the governor. "Of course, by that time there were barely thirty men here to defend it and none of them were truly fit for duty. Besides, it did not hold any strategic value. Still, at one time it was a stout enough place, but it wasn't truly meant as a stronghold, it was meant for entertaining and relaxing."

Passing down the lane through heavy overgrowth, the men made their way to a short stone bridge that crossed over a muddy creek. On the opposite side, a stone wall about six feet thick and some ten feet high, overgrown with vines and obscured by wild saplings barred their way. Moving to his left, the governor pointed to a break in the vines.

"The gate is here, the vines have covered it up..."

Pulling forth his sword, Ernest began hacking at the foliage.

"Leaves are my favorite foe," he remarked happily. "Mostly because they don't fight back..."

The others joined in until they had broken through the overgrown plants and into a courtyard strewn with dead leaves and twisted vines. A small fountain filled with mucky water stood at the center, the cobblestones that surrounded it covered in mud and dirt. Making their way past the fountain, they climbed a set of stone steps and entered a main hallway.

One of the guards pulled an unused torch from the wall and striking a flint that he produced from a pouch on his belt, was surprised to find it light so easily. Peering into the darkness, they were able to find other torches and soon the hallway was lit well enough to proceed.

For a moment, the governor peered out into the darkness that surrounded them and then said softly, "This way, if you would milord..."

Striding into the main hall of the hunting lodge it appeared that their assumptions had been correct and that the servants who had lived here had run away about the time that the kingdom had been conquered. It also appeared that no one had stepped foot in the place since then. He shook his head; there were places like this throughout Vesek, forgotten palaces and lodges with their grounds overgrown and their interiors dirty and smelling of mold. Many noble houses had fallen in the war and it had been part of his job to distribute their lands to those most in need.

"With your permission, lord; you men, take some torches and two of you go off in that direction," he instructed, pointing down the corridor to his left, "two of you that way," he said pointing to his right, "and the rest of you, come with us."

"How long is it since you have been here?" asked Ernest, peering into the darkness ahead.

"I had been here about seven or eight years ago, milord," mumbled the governor, peering down the gloomy hall and seeing something small and furry scurrying ahead of them. "It had become a cold and dank place even then. Old Jeftus never knew how to light a fire..."

"When he set his own castle on fire, he did a pretty good job," smiled Ernest. "If I recall correctly, if you had not been there, our lord the King would have suffered a very warm end indeed!"

The governor blushed slightly; he and Ernest had pulled the injured Alex from the burning building, an act that had led to his knighthood. A modest man, the governor never mentioned the episode.

The men continued forward, one or another of the guards occasionally stepping away to examine a room or passage that lined the hallway only to return to the group a moment later. At the end of the hall, a large door opened out onto an overgrown garden.

"What do you think, lads?" asked Ernest to no one in particular.

"Needs a good scrubbing, that's for sure milord," stated one of the guards.

"There are some critters roaming about, milord," countered another. "Nothing dangerous from the looks of it though. Still, with an energetic staff, you could probably set the place right in no time. It's not so far gone yet..."

"Milord, with a little work and some luck, I think you could have it back up and running in a few weeks time," stated the captain of the guard.

Returning to the main entrance, Ernest's group met with the others who had gone off to different parts of the building. After speaking to each group, he received much the same verdict; the property could be put right in a few weeks time.

The governor shrugged, "What is your wish, milord?"

Ernest considered it with a smile.

"Very well then, if you can spare the people to do it, send some over to get the clean up started. Put out the word that we need people to get this place back in shape, perhaps we'll be lucky and get some of the old staff back. I will report on it to the King and he can decide what to do with it once you have returned it to a functioning residence." Turning to the governor Ernest continued, "I think it would be best to send a troop of soldiers here to guard the place until we know the King's pleasure."

"As you command, milord," replied the governor.

Ernest's smile broadened, "And with that gentleman, I end my official duties here. I will leave tomorrow for home and present my report to our lord the King. I have enjoyed my visit, my friends, and I thank you for your hospitality. I assure you that I will have nothing but praise for each of you when the King asks about the state of things here."

"Thank you, milord, it has been our pleasure, milord," replied the governor happily. "I was hoping, your highness, that you might consider staying a few days longer to enjoy yourself a bit, now that business is done..."

"No, my friend," replied Ernest. "I have a lady waiting for me at home who has agreed to be my bride and the sooner I get home the better chance I have of making her keep her promise before she regrets her decision."

The group laughed as they made their way back to their horses for the ride back home.

### Chapter 4

Old Ellen finished cleaning the last stair of the grand stairway and stood back to admire her work. The place would have fallen apart without her, was, in fact, falling to pieces despite her, but the staircase looked like it had in the olden times. She thought back to those golden memories, to the grand balls of her youth, to the excitement of those nights when gallant men and beautiful women filled this palace with grace and charm. Those days of long ago, now long dead, lived only in her memories, only in the thoughts of an old woman, long discarded and forgotten. She would continue in the family service, the last of a long line. What happened to a trusted family servant when the family they served died out? They waited to join their master in the next world, she told herself, what else was there to do?

Besides, war had ravaged the land and Ellen knew no place else to go, knew no other life. No, she would continue to clean and polish a home with no owner, to care for and protect the legacy of a line gone cold until she and her husband joined her master in the comfort of the grave. There were worse ways to spend one's life and who knew, perhaps the new king would make someone else lord of this place and then, she might again serve a family her in Keneon. Besides, with her husband tending the gardens, at least there was food enough here and safety. Bandits kept the new king's men busy trying to maintain order in the land and she had heard of food shortages in different parts as well. Better to stay safe and well fed and besides, balls and formal evenings were a lot more work than she wanted to do now anyway.

She bent stiffly to retrieve her pail and rising was surprised to see the great door open and Jenkins, the fat fisherman whose father once supplied fish to the Count stagger in, his eyes filled with wonder. None of his stock had ever entered the palace through the front door and yet, there he stood, staring in wide eyed wonder at the furnishings and splendor of the decaying building.

Ellen rose to her full height and addressed him with the full scorn she reserved for those who had forgotten their place in the world.

"How DARE you come in through that noble door," she roared, storming towards him, hands on hips. "Get out and use the back way, the tradesman's entrance where you belong..."

"I've brought the countess with me," stated Jenkins in a hushed and awed voice.

"What countess?" snapped Ellen, momentarily caught off-guard by his announcement.

"Susan, the Countess of Keneon," replied Jenkins solemnly.

"There's been no "countess" here in fifty years," replied the elderly woman scornfully. "The last countess was the count's mother and he never married. He was the last of his line, I know because I assisted at his birth and I seen him buried. There is no royal house here anymore, they're all dead!"

"No," replied Jenkins, approaching respectfully. "His daughter is outside; she will be here in a moment..."

"He had no daughter," spat Ellen. "You're mad, Jenkins. You drank some bad rot gut and it's affected your brain, you fool! I tell you the count had no daughter!"

The door opened and a beautiful woman with long red hair glided into the room.

"We take no visitors here," snapped Ellen.

"This is Ellen, milady," stated Jenkins.

"Yes," smiled the woman, "yes, I remember her now..."

"I've never met you," replied the old woman scornfully. "Who are you?"

The young woman drew closer and then gently grasped the old woman's face between her hands. Staring intently at her eyes, she began to speak to her in caressing tones.

"You remember me, Ellen..."

"I don't know you..."

"You remember me, Ellen..."

"I don't..."

"You remember me, Ellen..."

"I remember you?"

"You remember ME, Ellen..."

The old woman felt strange, her mind fogging, her recollections uncertain.

"What do I remember?"

"You remember me, Ellen," continued the beautiful woman. "I was a child here, a beautiful child. I played in the garden, you played with me and gave me sweets, you loved me as if I were your own daughter..."

"As if you were my own..."

"My mother was a beautiful woman, she was from the royal house of Albria and the Count fell madly in love with her..."

"Madly in love..."

"They married in secret and on the night of their wedding, she conceived a child, a beautiful girl child..."

"Beautiful..."

"You were there, Ellen, you were there. You saw her give birth; she gave birth in the count's room, their bedroom. It's where she died, you remember Ellen..."

"I remember..."

"In his grief the count sent his daughter to his wife's family in Albria, you remember Ellen."

"I remember..."

"You remember how it almost killed you to lose the child, how it broke your heart..."

"It broke my heart..."

"But I've returned to you, Ellen. I've returned to claim my father's home... you remember, Ellen. You remember..."

Stepping back, she released the old woman's face and watched as she stared at her dreamily for a moment more. Suddenly, the old woman's eyes cleared and she stared at the woman as if for the first time.

"Can it be?" asked the old woman. "Is it really you? My darling little girl?"

"It is me, Ellen," smiled the beautiful woman. "I have returned!"

"It IS the Countess," cried Ellen, tears of joy streaming down her face. "The Countess has come home! Oh my lady, how I've missed you..."

"And I you," stated the beautiful woman, embracing the old woman with a cold, evil smile.

***

The gardens at Wharton were justly famous and after meals it was the custom of those visiting the palace to stroll about them and enjoy the beauty of their surroundings. After lunch, Count Bartran, beloved friend of the King and Queen, walked a stone path in the garden with his beautiful and loving daughter, Lady Gertrude, on his arm. He had just returned from an important diplomatic mission for the King and was overjoyed to have returned to the court in time for the upcoming wedding.

Tall and handsome with long, flowing hair and a waist length beard, he was the man responsible for arranging his majesty's marriage to the beautiful and older Marie of Vesek. Originally, the marriage had been arranged for the King's father, Joseph the Great, but during the long winter it had taken to write the treaty with the King of Vesek, King Joseph, unbeknownst to the Count, had died. The treaty, however, was dependent upon the King of Zambelia marrying the Lady Marie and so Alex found himself pledged to marry. At the time, the Count was sure that he had ruined his King and friend's life, but as it turned out, he was responsible for making him the happiest of men. Always a favorite before, he knew that both Alex and Marie credited him in part for their happiness and neither would ever forget his actions on their behalf.

The Lady Gertrude wrapped her arm more tightly around her father's arm and asked him quietly, "Tell me, father, are you ready to become a grandfather?"

For a moment, the Count stared down at her and then, the largest smile Gertrude had ever seen broke across her father's face as he swept her up into her arms with a happy laugh.

Wide eyed, Gertrude stared at him as he released her.

"Oh, my daughter, you have made me the happiest of men!"

"I'm so sorry father," she giggled. "It hasn't happened yet. I am not with child; we have just been speaking about our desire to start our family."

"Oh, it will happen," smiled the Count, "I'm sure it will happen soon!"

"I am sure it will, father," she replied, moving away from prying ears and leaning closer to speak to him, "and it is for that reason that I want your advice."

"My advice?" asked the Count, momentarily confused. "Are there...problems...my dear?"

"Oh father," laughed Gertrude, blushing, "you misunderstand me. What I mean is that when it happens, how do I broach the subject with her majesty, the Queen? I would never do anything to hurt our dear friend Marie, but we both know that the announcement might be unpleasant for her. She loves Alex so much and she wishes with all her heart that they could produce a child together..."

Bartran sat down on a bench near a hedge, in a private area of the garden and invited his daughter to take the seat next to him.

"My dear, there are some things that you can do nothing about," he stated quietly. "I am sure that the Queen will be overjoyed for you and Parker when the time comes and I know she will know that you would never hurt her, but you cannot protect her from her own feelings. The fact that you are concerned will mean more to her than anything, I assure you..."

"I know you are correct, but I do not wish to see her pained by what I hope will be a joyous announcement," stated Gertrude quietly. Smiling, she looked up at her father, "I do hope that I can give Parker a son. I know how much he would love to have a boy, a son to teach and show the way..."

The Count laughed, surprising his daughter.

"It isn't likely dear, not on the first try," he rumbled good-naturedly. "The Bartran women are famous for their beauty and their kindness but most of all, for having girls. Your grandmother gave birth to three daughters before I arrived and your great-grandmother gave birth to six girls before a boy showed up. The first child for a Bartran is ALWAYS a girl; believe me, my darling, it is a wonderful thing. I am sure Parker will love any child that the two of you have together..."

"Oh, I know he'll make a wonderful father, no matter what," laughed Gertrude, "but to give him a son, an heir...oh father, I just wish it could be so!"

"Well, maybe it will be...eventually," laughed the Count, not wishing to upset his darling little girl, "but do not worry about it now, it is not important. The important thing is that the child is healthy and loved, that is all. No matter what else, if the child is healthy and loved, anything is possible, anything at all!"

Gertrude hugged her father tightly. He was right, as long as the child was healthy, that was the most important thing. Still, it would be so wonderful to give her love a boy. Suddenly, she felt closer to Marie than ever before, she understood her heart. She too wished to give her husband what he desired, wanted it with all of her heart, but it would never happen, could never happen. Poor Marie, poor, beautiful, kind Marie...Gertrude shook her head, she would be happy with a girl and she was sure Parker would be as well, but the thought of having a boy still grew in her mind...

***

The King's Council sat within the audience chamber, not entirely pleased with the answers they were receiving from their sovereign lord. While always polite and open to discussion, Alex had become more comfortable in his role in the last year, a fact that the members of the council credited to his marriage and near death in the last war. Still, they were men who were in the habit of having their opinions considered seriously and their advice taken.

"I must protest, sire," stated the Duke of Narstra, a large man with a husky voice whose heavy black brow and wild beard giving him a somewhat intimidating appearance. "We have spoken now a dozen times since your decision to raise your wife's child to the position of prince of the realm. Still you have not given us a hint as to your intention of who will succeed you."

"My dear Duke," smiled Alex patiently, "Jonathan is my son, not my "wife's child". My wife is also the Queen and I expect her to be honored and respected as such, even in debate. As to my successor, I prefer not to discuss the matter at this time. With God's grace, it will be several years before the question must be seriously considered."

"But as things stand, sire," stated the Duke of Rinni, "if anything should befall you, your brother might be acknowledged as your successor. Now I know that all of us hold the Lord Ernest in great regard and we all know of his exploits and each of us prays that his impending marriage will bless him with abundant good fortune and many children, but sire, if I may say so, he is not preferable as a king."

"He is quite a lot of fun, however," mumbled Albert.

"He is a handful at times, I will admit," replied Alex softly. "Still, gentlemen, I believe that you misunderstand me. I have no wish to discuss the question at this time. I have not proclaimed Ernest my successor nor have I given that honor to my son as of yet. In the event of my death, my instructions have been entrusted in writing to a man whose actions are beyond reproach, our dear Lord Albert. If the time should come, I expect my instructions to be carried out to the letter, but until that time, should it ever come, I will keep my own counsel and I consider the matter closed."

"Sire, this will not do!" snapped the Duke of Nastra. "You have raised your wife and her children to the royal line, that is your prerogative sire and no one disputes it, but we must have answers. Are we to be ruled by those whom we have conquered?"

"I would, my dear Duke," stated Alex icily, "be careful as to the direction that your questioning is taking. I and everyone who knows the Queen acknowledges that she had no more sympathy for her brother than any of the other patriots who risked their lives in the last war. She nursed our wounded and buried our dead and rejoiced in our victories, not only for our sake, but for the sake of the people that she had left behind. She had left her homeland to try and protect by treaty those her brother had left to die through war. In my opinion, she is more fit in mind and heart to rule than any other here because she loved both my people and those whom she had left behind. As to my son Jonathan, if he succeeds me, he will do so as a Zambelian. He is, gentlemen, as much a Zambelian as any of you. After all, his father AND his mother are Zambelians, are they not?"

The room went silent. The Duke looked about him, but saw no one looking in his direction. He was dangerously close to treason in his protest and none would support his line of questioning.

"Very well, sire," he replied. "I meant no disrespect, but I wish it noted that I for one think that the question cannot be put off indefinitely. At some point, sire, your position must be made clear and the consequences of it must be addressed and sire, though I pray it will not be so, I fear there will be consequences, unpleasant consequences. There are those that will disagree with your view of events, even though I am sure that we of this council agree with your assessment."

Alex considered his words and replied softly, "Then we will face those consequences, I pray my friend, together, as we have faced every other problem that has faced our kingdom."

"Sire," stated another of the dukes, "I know that everyone here will agree that her majesty is a true patriot, but we must bring to your attention, as your councilors and friends, that there are other considerations. We cannot ignore the fact that her majesty cannot produce... well I do not wish to be indelicate, but she is unable to produce for you a true son, an heir of your line. While I mean no disrespect, for the sake of the kingdom you must consider putting your marriage aside..."

"ENOUGH!"

Those in the chamber turned and found Lord Albert standing, obviously furious. Albert was known for his even temper, none of those present could remember him ever having raised his voice, but now, they stared into a face filled with rage. Albert slammed his fist down upon the arm of his chair.

"I have heard ENOUGH! You have not only defamed the Queen and insulted both a virtuous woman and the sanctity of marriage, you have insulted the KING! I will stand it NO MORE!"

Raising a trembling finger, he pointed at the Duke, "You yourself sat here and pleaded with his majesty to marry the Lady Marie in order to honor the treaty that ended the first war with Vesek; we all did! We spoke of honoring commitments, of living up to the words of our agreements of the "honor of the nation"! Should a man not live up to the commitment he makes at the altar, especially a KING? Is the honor of the King less important than the honor of the nation?"

Livid, he turned to each one in turn, "And what of all that the lady has done for our people; is that to be forgotten? Who nursed our Lord back to health after he was almost killed? Who gave our King back to us? The King has made it clear that Prince Jonathan is his son. How dare you impugn our King and Queen! How dare you!"

"Lord Albert," stated Alex, "I beg you to calm down and retake your seat..."

Albert glared at the Duke, but did as the King asked.

"As tempers are running high and I have already stated that this discussion is closed, I thank you gentlemen for coming and I wish you all a good day."

The members of the council rose and bowing to the King, filed out of the chamber, some appearing embarrassed, others sullen or angry. As the door closed behind the last council member, Albert shook his head, his lips pursed.

"I am sorry milord, but how could they speak of Marie in such a way..."

Alex rose and crossing to Albert, surprised him by bending over him and hugging him. He held the older man for a long moment and then releasing him, stood up.

"Thank you for what you said today, Albert. No one knows my heart as you do and while I have never doubted your support, I will never forget how you spoke about my beloved today." With a smile, Alex helped Albert to his feet, "Come, and let us cool off by taking a walk in the garden."

Albert placed an arm around Alex' shoulder, "You are not the only one who loves her and the children you know..."

Alex laughed, "I suppose I should be thankful that Stasha was not here. We would be planning the funerals for several dukes if she had been..."

### Chapter 5

"I used to tend the gardens, milady," stated the heavy set man, his belt straining as he bowed before the Countess.

"They are in a horrible state," replied the Countess. "I expect them to be full of flowers within the month!"

"Yes, milady, I will do my very best," stated the man, bowing while retreating backwards towards the chamber door.

Ellen entered the chamber and crossed to the Countess, "I've brought you some wine, milady."

The Countess waved her to a side table, "Place it there and send in the next petitioner."

"There are none, milady," replied Ellen, placing the glass down on the table as instructed. "The gardener was the last of them."

The Countess nodded, "Very well then, you may leave me."

Ellen bowed and withdrew. The Countess made her way to a window overlooking the sea. She was pleased by the progress that had been made in the castle, rooms and furniture cleaned and ready, grounds undergoing renovations, people coming to pay homage to the new occupant, but there were still many problems to be addressed.

She had heard some grumblings, suspicious people who did not remember the count having a daughter, rumors being spoken and questions growing behind her back. On a one to one basis, it took Susan but a moment to correct their memories but if a group were to gather in protest, well, that would be a problem. The sorceress had inherited her powers through her mother, but had been too willful, too impatient to learn the craft. Even though she possessed a superior natural power, she had rebelled as soon as she had thought that she was strong enough to do so, leaving her education in the art incomplete. Because of her lack of education, she had never learned to channel her powers properly and thus she were unable to do certain things that should have been easy for her to do, such as use her abilities to control large groups. For her, there was a much greater limit to sorcery's uses than there should have been. While she had expanded her powers in some areas, in others she was still a novice as compared to most others, a fact that she chose to ignore but which constantly haunted her actions.

Raising her hand, she waved at the glass, which rose and hovered a moment above the table before gliding through the air and into her hand. Taking a sip, she was less than pleased, but then again, she normally was less than pleased. Waving her hand over the glass, she turned the wine to a better vintage and taking a second sip, smiled approvingly. She could settle most of her immediate problems by procuring a royal validation of her inheritance. She would apply to the Royal Governor for validation of her status; it would be the quickest route to legitimacy and would end any discussions. All she need do was to get the governor alone for just a moment...

A knock at the door brought her thoughts back to the present.

"Enter," she called out.

A young man entered and advanced, bowing deeply and rising only when she motioned him to do so.

"Milady," he began formally. "My name is Randolf and I am the appointed sheriff of this area by the grace of his Excellency, the Royal Governor. I am here to request your presence at my office to answer some questions."

The Countess glared at him a moment and then smiled. He was a handsome young man, perhaps twenty five, no more than thirty years of age, with shoulder length brown hair and chiseled features. He was dressed in a pair of heavy brown pants, with matching color boots and wore a plain tan tunic with a heavy silver chain indicating his office around his neck. A sword that appeared a bit too large hung on a belt around his narrow waist.

"Why does the lord sheriff seek my company?" asked the Countess haughtily.

The young man raised an eyebrow, "I have been instructed by my superiors to ascertain whether you are the legal occupant of this home."

The Countess viewed him with veiled eyes and saw him blush, yes; this might offer her some possibilities as well as some amusement. Crossing to him, she drew very close to him.

"I am the Countess of Keneon," she purred. "Who else should occupy this home if not I?"

"There is no record of a Countess," stated the sheriff, his eyes shifting, his embarrassment more pronounced. "There is no record of any royal birth in our Church records and no one outside of the persons currently employed here seem to remember the Count having any family."

The Countess raised her hand and gently touched his face, "I am a stranger here, my father did not want me and sent me away. Now, will you reject me as well?"

The sheriff looked at her and stammered, but was unable to form any words before the Countess kissed him passionately on the lips. His hands clasped her shoulders as her arms wrapped about his neck. Slowly, his arms wrapped about her waist and he pulled her more closely.

Breaking their kiss, she smiled, "Is this how you deliver all of your "official" messages?"

The sheriff blushed as she kissed him again. Oh yes, she smiled, this would be easy indeed.

***

The Lord Ernest rode up to the gate of the small farm and dismounted just as his horse slowed to a halt. From the door of the simple farmhouse, a beautiful woman with raven black hair ran out to greet him, her arms thrown wide.

"You have returned!" she cried happily, falling into his arms and kissing him with delight. "I thought you would be several days more..."

"How could I stay away from you, my beloved?" he asked as he kissed her again. "We have so much to do yet, my angel. I decided to come early to help you pack and to spend some time with you before we make our journey to Wharton. Everything was prepared when I left on my mission just as I had told you..."

"I'm not sure I can move so quickly, my love, even with your help. There is so much to do..." she began.

"I am here to help you, my angel," he laughed. "We will be ready in no time and if not, we can always come back and finish afterwards..."

She frowned ever so slightly, "I love you, you know that, but I will miss this place. I don't know how people will feel about me at court, a woman with no title or background..."

"Nonsense," laughed Ernest. "I love you and my brother and his family loves you and most important of all, Stasha loves you." He looked at her, a mock serious expression on his face. "None of the rest truly matters if Stasha did not love you; Alex may be King, but everyone knows that Stasha makes the rules..."

"They have all been wonderful to me," she said softly. "Dear Marie has been so generous and patient with me. It is like I have known her all of my life and the children could not be better to me. I must confess your brother sometimes frightens me..."

"As I've said before, do not be frightened when Alex does not speak," replied Ernest good naturedly. "He has never been a talker, especially when I am there. It is sad, but the poor fellow cannot match my eloquence and he knows it... Honestly, I think he is more afraid of saying the wrong thing than anyone I know. Believe me, he has told me repeatedly how happy he is for you to become a part of the family. Of course, for a long time, I was his only family, so no matter what you do, it HAS to be an improvement on what he is used too..."

"I can never take you seriously," she smiled. "I only hope that I can make you as happy as you make me."

He detected sadness in her voice, "What is the matter, my dear?"

"Ernest, I was driven out of my homeland for being what I am," she said softly. "Your brother allowed me to stay and then allowed us to marry. Do you not think we ask too much by having me live in the royal palace? I have no royal blood in me and besides, I am a foreigner. If the court finds out about my abilities, they will say that I enchanted you to become a member of the royal family..."

"They will not find out," replied Ernest, suddenly sweeping her off her feet and carrying her through the doorway. "I must practice; I'm expected to do this on our wedding night you know!"

"Put me down," she laughed. "I do love you."

"And I love you," he replied, placing her gently on her feet in the kitchen of the small, clean home. "Remember, that is all that matters. Do not get yourself upset about what others might say and I am sorry to say, they WILL say many things. Look at Marie, she is the Queen AND of royal blood and there are many who do nothing but speak poorly of her out of jealousy. She has a beautiful heart like your own and still, there is always someone who always speaks ill of her and what she does, always seeking to wrong her and why? Just to be unjust and unkind. Do not let people like that bother you, my love, just know that I love you and all will be well!"

She giggled and kissed him again, "Very well, my own heart, I will try. I will still have to learn quite a bit, however, I am not used to court life..."

"Just follow Stasha's lead," he giggled. "She won't let you go wrong for very long."

Shaking her head, she led him towards the ladder that led to the attic.

"I need you to go and get my trunks, my dear..."

"Anything to have you with me forever," he smiled as he grabbed the ladder's rungs and began to ascend.

***

It had been a long week and Albert sat in his study staring at the last report on his desk, happily thinking that tomorrow, he would not even come to his study. Perhaps he would take Stasha for a carriage ride; he had been so busy as of late that he had not even had a chance to have dinner with her the last two days. He was surprised by a knock at the door. He assumed it must be Alex; he had seen him only a short time before still at work in his own study down the hall.

"Come in," he called out.

To his surprise, his wife Stasha entered. Rising he gave her a kiss and beckoned her to a chair.

"I will not be much longer; I have only to look over this last report..."

"I am very proud of you," she interrupted and kissed him again, a please expression on her face.

Looking at her, he frowned, "Proud of me? Why?"

"It is all over the castle, what you said to the council earlier this week. I have never been prouder of you and as you know, that's saying something," she stated firmly. "I know you hate to lose your temper, but you did it for a good cause."

"You heard about that?" he asked anxiously, placing the document back down upon his desk.

"Apparently word was out about what had happened before you finished your walk with Alex in the garden that day," she replied. "You know it is impossible to keep secrets here..."

"But if you know, Marie must know," he stated.

Stasha frowned and nodded, "She knows. I don't know who told her, but she knows what was said, she hinted at it just before retiring. I know it hurt her deeply..."

"Perhaps I should say something to Alex..." offered Albert.

Stasha shook her head, "If she wishes to discuss it with him, I'm sure she will. He can't protect her from every unpleasant statement that is said, though he does try, God bless him. I'm more worried about Jonathan than Marie. I'm sure if he hasn't heard, he will and when he does, it will make him feel awful."

"I don't know what to do about it," admitted Albert. "As you said, you can't protect them from every unpleasantness, but I certainly wish the children could be spared this nonsense."

Stasha rose and moving to him, gave him a gentle kiss on top of the head.

"I will go and get ready for bed, don't be too late."

"I won't," he said softly as she shuffled out the door.

Shaking his head, he tried to read the report before him, but found it difficult to concentrate. Why did people have to be so cruel? Perhaps he should go down the hall and speak to Alex about the matter. Leaning back in his chair he shook his head, what good would it do? Marie might say nothing or she might wish to discuss it at length, either way how would knowing earlier help Alex? It would only distract him from the work he was doing as it was distracting Albert now. Staring at the report, he forced himself to read it, write a short note and call a messenger to deliver it before tidying up his papers and taking his candle to make his way to his room. Glancing back down the hall, he saw a light under the King's study door. Fighting the urge to go to him, he turned and headed to Stasha and to bed. As Stasha had said, you can't keep them from every unpleasantness...

### Chapter 6

"Who?"

"The Countess of Keneon," replied the captain of the guard.

The Royal Governor's frown deepened. He had served King Jeftus before the war and had acquired a knowledge of the royal families in the kingdom which had served him well since King Alex had knighted him and made him the royal governor. Shaking his head he waved a dismissive hand at the captain of the guard.

'There is no Countess of Keneon," he stated. "The count died without issue, the woman is an imposter."

"She requests an audience with you, milord, to plead her case," stated the captain of the guard. "She has a letter from the Sheriff, Randolf. If you recall, you appointed..."

"I appointed him as a favor to my friend," confessed the governor. "In truth, the boy is an idiot. I thought he could get into no trouble as the Sherriff, nothing much ever happens there..." He shook his head and then waved his hand at the captain, "I tell you there is no "Countess" of Keneon. Have her sent away at once and confiscate the letter so that someone even more gullible doesn't fall for her prank upon his word."

The captain saluted and left the governor to the pile of paperwork he was wading through in his attempt to prepare a report for Lord Albert. A short time later, the captain returned and saluted.

"The supposed Countess states that if you refuse to see her, she will go to the King himself to plead her case."

The governor had required a swift education regarding his duties, but he had a soldier's understanding of life and was a tough man to bluff.

"Tell her to go to the King," replied the governor gruffly. "Tell her that he alone could legitimize her claim. Tell her that I do not have the authority, that any petition must be examined and approved by the King himself anyway and that she will get swifter results by discussing the matter with him."

The captain frowned, "But milord, you know that the King will send a request to you asking for particulars..."

"Which I will be send to him before he requests it as to save HIM the trouble of having to see this imposter. I intend to send him the information regarding this situation in the next official post," replied the governor, scanning his desk and grasping a clean sheet of paper upon which to write. "If she wishes to make a useless journey, let her go, at least she will not be here to bother me further! I KNOW there is no countess of Keneon. Make sure that she understands that I will not meet with her; she can attempt her fraud wherever she decides but I will not give her the time of day. Now out with you and don't bother me with this nonsense again. If she won't leave, have her removed..."

"As you command," replied the captain.

A short time later, the countess swept out of the governor's fortress into the governor's courtyard and then into her waiting carriage. Filled with an unnatural rage, she lowered herself onto the seat of her coach, ordering the driver to take her back to her lodgings. Ellen sat next to her, trembling and fearful. She knew her lady's looks and moods and this was a dark one indeed.

"He would not even see you, even WITH the sheriff's letter," she stammered in amazement. "How could it be? The sheriff himself gave you an introduction..."

"Shut up," snapped the Countess.

Fuming, she stared out the window of the coach as they moved through the village that had once surrounded Jeftus' castle. Her beautiful features descended more deeply into a scowl, she had been denied even an audience! How DARE he deny her the courtesy of a hearing! A lowly governor, a man of no stock, of no breeding and of no background having the gall to deny HER a hearing! How could he deny HER, a true noblewoman and a countess? Once she had spoken to the King, things would be different, things would be very different, she swore.

She thought of the letter of introduction that the sheriff had penned for her. He thought he was important, "Take this darling, he will see you without hesitation..." he had lied! The fool thought his word would have sway with the royal governor, how could he have been so foolish? He had disgraced her; lied to her, what had happened was completely his fault! He had led her to disgrace, she had been made to appear a fool because of his pride. He had no importance and his words meant nothing!

Forgetting that she herself had dictated the note and demanded that he sign it, she raged within at his stupidity, his pride, his willingness to make her appear a fool! She had shared her bed with him and he had disgraced her by having her rejected by a lowly governor?

As the carriage pulled up to their lodgings, she stormed out of the coach and through the front door. She had rented an entire tavern in town for herself, had banned any other travelers from setting foot inside and had made the tavern keeper and his households her personal servants. As she entered the main dining room, the sheriff rose from his place beside the fireplace and smiled.

"Back so soon, my love?" he called out happily. "Did you see the governor?"

Glancing about, she saw that except for Ellen, who had followed her into the room from the carriage, they were by themselves. Turning to Ellen she gestured for her to leave. With a bow, Ellen quickly moved up the stairs that led to the rooms above, leaving them alone.

"What is the matter, my love?" asked the sheriff, sensing her anger.

"He would not see me!" she screeched. "Your letter meant nothing; he would not even speak to me, TO ME!"

The sheriff shook his head, "There must be some kind of mistake; he knows my father. I don't understand, are you sure he saw my note?"

"He had them take it from ME!" she fumed. "I promise you, I will go and see the King. Once I have spoken to the King, I will see to it that that man pays for his insolence!"

"The King will never see you," murmured the sheriff, thinking quickly. "If the governor refused you admittance, he will send a note to the King regarding you, of that I am certain. We need to see the governor; I will go at once..."

Taking a step towards him, she suddenly thrust her hand forward, up from her waist to a straight arm position at shoulder height. Despite her being more than ten feet away from him, the sheriff felt a powerful force slam viciously into his chest and throw him bodily into the large fireplace at the end of the room. Opening his mouth to scream, he found that he could make no sound as the fire swept through his hair and took hold of his skin and clothing. Try as he might, he was unable to move. Somehow he was pinned against the burning logs, held there until his entire body was awash in flame and pain. Through his agony, he looked to her, his mind screaming, pleading for her to help him, but she stood motionless across the room, her arm held out stiffly, her eyes filled with a dark, unrelenting hatred. The last vision that consumed his mind even as he died, even through the agony of his bodily suffering, were those eyes; those hate filled, furious, evil eyes, staring down at him from across the room.

Summoned by the stink of burning flesh that filled the household, the servants came running from upstairs seeking the odor's source. They found the sheriff's body twisted and crumpled in the fire grate, burned beyond recognition. It was only by the molten chain that circled the neck of his corpse that they were able to deduce that the body in the fire place belonged to the sheriff.

Several hours after the grisly discovery, the Countess was located having dinner with a well known local official in a hall on the other side of the village. While agreeing that it was a horrible event, few could fail to notice that she seemed little put out by the grisly accident. The prospect of a journey to the King's palace seemed to be all that she could consider at the moment. She did not even give instructions as to what to do with her former lover's remains, preferring instead to allow his family to claim his body and arrange the particulars of the funeral. By the time those arrangements had been made, she was well on her way to Wharton.

***

Sliding as quietly as possible into bed, Alex felt the exhaustion and the pounding of a headache that had haunted him all day. It had been a horribly long day and all he wished for was to be done with work. Between the preparations for Ernest's wedding and his regular work load, Alex felt as if there were not enough hours in the day to get even half of everything that needed to be done finished. Despite his joy for Ernest and Donna and his pride in hosting the wedding festivities, he could think of nothing duller than having to entertain people. Also, the festivities did not allow for a break from the almost endless official duties that had to be dealt with each week. At least, he reasoned, he would get to spend a little more time in Marie's company, something that he had not been able to do much of lately. Indeed, they had both been working so hard lately that the only time they seemed to speak to each other were at meetings or formal functions.

Rubbing his eyes, he thought of how fortunate he was to have such a wife. While he was stiff and uncomfortable at parties, Marie was always relaxed and radiant. She looked so beautiful and was always so charming and witty that he could just sit back and watch her, reveling in the atmosphere that she created. She lit up every room that she entered, and though he was tired, he was never so tired as to forget that he was a fortunate man.

Thinking that Marie was asleep, he turned slowly to look at her, a favorite pastime. He thought Marie looked like an angel in repose and he never tired of watching her beautiful features as she slept next to him. To his surprise, she lay staring up at him, her beautiful eyes reflecting the soft glow of the candlelight.

"I'm sorry my dear, did I wake you?" whispered Alex.

To his surprise, Marie slipped up and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her and hesitated. Alex had been a husband long enough to realize the difference between a romantic overture and his wife being upset, but he was at a loss to understand what had upset her.

"I'm sorry," whispered Marie, her voice pained and breaking as she spoke.

"Sorry for what?" asked Alex softly. "I woke you up..."

"You didn't wake me up," she replied, releasing her hold and easing back to face him. "I've been waiting for you..."

"You didn't have to stay awake," whispered Alex. "I'm sorry that I was so late, but I had to finish..."

"If you want to send me away, I understand," she stated firmly. "Perhaps it would be best after all, best for you, for Jonathan..."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Alex. "Send you away? By the dragon's tail, Marie, what do you mean? I'd as soon throw myself from the castle tower as send you away from me. What has happened?" The throbbing in his head increased with each word and he tried not to become excited because it only made the pain worse.

"Perhaps you should listen to the council," she replied bravely. "They are thinking about your future and the future of your people. I love you and the children love you, Alex, but what if the best thing we can do for you is to go away and let you..."

"Marie," interrupted Alex, more forcefully than he had intended, "the best thing you can do for me is stop talking like Ernest and make some sense. I have spent a long day looking forward to coming to bed to you and when I get here, the love of my life starts talking to me about why she should leave me and take our children with her..."

"I heard about what the council said," she replied, her voice filled with pain and anger. "I heard what they said about us, Alex. Nothing has changed..."

"Everything has changed," replied Alex. "Everything has changed! You are my wife; you are the Queen, the mother of my children..."

"No, no I am NOT!" she snapped angrily. "They do not consider them your children and they will never let us forget that I cannot give you a child of "your line"! I will always be the woman who cannot give you the heir they crave..."

"Yes, that is true of some of them," he replied, desperately trying to remain reasonable through his growing discomfort and exhaustion, "but it is not so to me and frankly, as your husband, I believe that my opinion in the matter is the most important one."

"Do you really want to have this argument every time you hold a council meeting?" she asked. "They are the most important men in the kingdom..."

"To their way of thinking," replied Alex irritably.

"Their opinions matter," replied Marie. "If you were to die, they would not support Jonathan, they would not listen to Albert..."

"Enough," huffed Alex. Marie stared at him stonily as he rubbed the temples of his head, "I am sorry, Marie, but you are being unreasonable..."

"Am I?" she asked angrily. "Tell me that this is not a topic of discussion at every meeting and I will let the matter drop!"

"Yes, it is," replied Alex, "but they are wrong, it is that simple. I do not care if our marriage does not live up to what some people desire, I am sick to death of what other people desire..."

Marie's features softened as Alex rose and put on his robe, muttering angrily to himself.

"You must consider..." she began.

"Why?" he asked suddenly, no longer able to contain his irritation. "Why must I consider? Should not THEY consider? I have thought of nothing but their considerations, what about OUR considerations? I never wanted to be King but by God, I am the King and for once I would like a little consideration!"

Turning he shook his head, torn between continuing the conversation and leaving. If he stayed he could only display his displeasure with the entire subject and risk saying something hurtful without meaning to do so. If he left, she would think that his anger was directed at her, which it was not.

"They always have some advice to offer," he ranted, more thinking out loud than actually speaking to her, storming through the curtains that separated their bed chamber from their sitting room. He stood above one of the chairs, debating whether to sit down or not as he continued angrily.

"They pleaded for our marriage and now they plead for me to put it aside... "Oh sire, if I were you I would do this, Oh sire, if I were you I would do that", ha," he growled, "Can I help it that I am what I am? I never wanted to be the king... you don't get asked, no one ever asked me, you are told, this is what you are... how I would love to leave all of this behind and be a farmer or a merchant, to live a normal life where whatever my wife and I do is between us and no one else's business..."

Marie rose, realizing that she had pushed too far. Putting on her robe, she reached the curtain just as Alex stomped his way to the bedroom door.

"Alex..." she whispered, but he did not hear her as he grabbed the handle and stormed out into the hallway.

Once outside, he glanced up and down the corridor, the guards snapping to attention, surprised at his sudden appearance this late at night. For a moment he stood motionless, undecided on what to do or where to go.

"Is there something you desire, sire?"

Alex looked at the guard, his features grim. Exhaling, he shook his head.

"No, Joseph, I just need some air..."

Turning, he walked down the corridor towards the steps that led up towards the parapets, the guards saluting as their King ignored them, shuffling past in his bare feet and robe, mumbling to himself.

***

Lady Gertrude smiled seductively as her husband, Parker, slid into bed next to her. A handsome man, tall and muscular, with long blonde hair and dark eyes, he returned her smile and drew closer to her.

"I am so sorry my love," he murmured, nuzzling her neck through her golden hair, reveling in her sweet scent.

"I would wait forever for you, my darling," she murmured, bringing her lips to his and winding her arms around his neck.

Gingerly, he pulled her nightgown from her shoulders, trailing it as it slid down, gathering at her waist. He sighed, stopping to feast upon her beautiful breasts. With a moan, she sunk back into the mattress, groaning softly as he worked his way down from her breasts to her belly, slowly pulling her gown from her body. Lingering but a moment, he worked his way lower, caressing her to arousal. She marveled at his gentleness, his calm, tender attention. Running her hands through his hair, she urged him with her touch, begging him to explore her still further and more intimately.

Driven by their mutual passion, he responded, urging her to new heights. Grasping the bed sheets, she yearned for him to enter her, to be one with her. Rising above her, he ever so slowly slid his manhood into her, smiling at the whimper she made as they were joined. For a moment they held each other, perfectly still and then, he began to move in and out, slowly driving her to dangerous heights. Lowering his head to her breasts once more, he touched the tender flesh of her nipples, lashing them with his tongue until they were both consumed by the fire of their love. Together they climaxed and then collapsed, entwined in each other's arms, safe in each other's embrace.

Gertrude held her lover in her arms, praying that tonight had been the night that their family had begun to grow. Slowly, she stroked Parker's hair, her happiness and hopes as entwined as their bodies.

If there is a baby, let it be healthy, she prayed in the echo of her beating heart, and if we are to have a child, for my husband's sake, please let it be a boy. How I wish to give him that gift, how I love him so...

### Chapter 7

As dawn broke, the coach eased to a stop along a small stream, the dust of the road settling almost immediately as the coachman jumped from his perch and pulled open the door.

"Need to rest the horses, miladies," he called out merrily. "We will take a moment here to let them take some water. Perhaps you would like to stretch your legs; the next stop won't be for some time."

The Countess rose from her seat, bending low to step through the door, taking the coachman's hand as he eagerly assisted her to the ground. Ellen followed immediately afterwards, her eyes nervously darting about at the trees that surrounded the road.

"Do you suppose there are any robbers about, milady?" she asked anxiously. She had never been this far from home and she knew all of the terrible tales of robbers and thieves and murderers.

The Countess scanned the area, "No one is here." Turning to the coachman who had drawn the horses toward the stream, she called out, "How far are we from the border?"

The coachman, a young man in his twenties, rushed quickly to the beautiful woman's side. She had no need of magic to keep his undivided attention when she wanted it, she thought.

"Another days ride at least, milady. This is the shortest route," he quickly added, seeing her frown deepen upon hearing the news. "The mountain pass at Windmor will also leave us nearer to Wharton than the pass at Grandear."

"Is Grandear not the place where the King of Zambelia forced back the Vesekian army with a force half the size?" she asked casually.

"Indeed it is, milady," smiled the coachman. "but he was a prince at the time, his father still reigned. I was a squire for the Duke of Bryne, I was at that very battle..."

"So you fought alongside King Alex?" asked Susan.

The coachman looked at her, unable to hide his surprise, "No, milady. The Duke's domain abuts your own. I am Velsekian..."

"Oh, oh," laughed the Countess nervously, "the Duke of Bryne! I am sorry; I misheard you, yes of course..."

The coachman laughed, "Yes milady, the Duke of Bryne. I was in his service until he died at the Battle of Nestagor. That was a black day, I can tell you. I saw the new King of Zambelia that day, saw him lead his men into the very heart of the battle. They say he is a gentle man, but I can tell you, he is a demon in battle. No one and nothing could stop him..."

The Countess nodded, "So I have heard..." Glancing back at the horses she forced a smile, "Will they be much longer?"

The coachman glanced back and then smiled, "Sorry, milady, of course. Let me tend to them, no time for talking..." He hurried off to join the horses and prepare them and the coach for the next leg of their journey.

"It will be a week before we get to Wharton," crabbed Ellen. "What is the sense in going? You yourself said that the King won't see you, milady? If the governor sent him the letter you claim he did..."

The Countess' face dropped into a scowl, "Never speak of the governor to me again! I will get in to see the King, of that you should have no doubt, and when I do, no one will ever hear of the Royal Governor again, I promise you that!"

Ellen bowed, her anxiety growing, "Yes milady, of course."

Stumbling backwards she sidled up to the coach. She had seen what was left of the sheriff. Her mistress had not been there, everyone knew that, but still, there was no sense in taking chances.

***

Annalisse arose just after dawn and jumped out of bed. Today was the day Uncle Ernest was going to arrive with his bride, there was going to be a big celebration. Annalisse loved seeing the beautiful dresses the ladies would all be wearing and the fine clothes the men would don, but most of all, she loved to see her mother, the most beautiful of all, with her father beside her. Then there were the entertainments that such events always showcased, the acrobats and singing...

Gleefully she imagined it all and after carefully making her bed, she anxiously made her way out into the hallway where the guards all snapped to attention. With a giggle, she greeted each one as she did every morning, asking them if they had had a good night and inquiring of each if his feet were tired. She smiled up at the huge men, all of whom smiled at the beautiful little girl who loved to ask them all sorts of questions. Did they sleep all day now? Did they ever fall asleep standing up? Which one of them was the tallest? Who snored the loudest?

By the time Annalisse had gotten to the end of the hallway, Stasha appeared as she always did, smiling at her small charge with delight.

"Did you sleep well, my angel?" she asked happily.

"I had a good night," smiled Annalisse. "Did you and Albert sleep well?"

"Too good," smiled Stasha. "I almost over slept again!"

"Oh Stasha, you say that every morning and you never over sleep," smiled Annalisse. "Did Daddy and Mommy get up already?"

"No my love," smiled Stasha. "I think they are sleeping late. But it is going to be a busy day so I think you and I should start getting ready. Why don't I take you for a bath and we'll get you ready and maybe by the time we're done, they will join you for breakfast."

"Very well," smiled Annalisse.

Turning, she smiled at the guards, each one trying hard to contain their smile.

"I'm going to take a bath now," she announced, "so you can all relax."

"Thank you, your highness," replied the guards.

With that, Annalisse took Stasha's hand and the two wandered down the hall to prepare for the day.

Far below them, in a passage well below the castle, Jonathan sat on the sand having a very different type of morning. Jonathan had arisen before dawn, anxious to get out and away. His mother had given him permission to go fishing with Wilton and Randy at an underground lake that lay beneath the castle.

"Remember to be back early," she had warned him. "Your Uncle Ernest wanted to surprise us and bring Donna two days ago. It was only by luck that your father found out and convinced him to bring her here in a formal procession."

In the early morning darkness, he had gathered up his fishing gear and ran down the stairs to meet his friends in the main hall. Anxiously the three of them descended down many stairwells to a passage way that led to a dark, damp cave beneath the castle. Following a path lit with torches, the boys finally found themselves standing on the edge of a massive underground lake. On the shoreline, torches formed a circle, lighting about twenty feet of sand. They had been lit earlier by some of the guards at the king's request so that the boys might have a place to sit and relax while they fished.

"Brogdan told me that there are all sorts of odd fish in this lake," reported Wilton. "He said many of them are very ugly but all of them are good for eating."

"I suppose it must be strange to live in a place that is dark all of the time," replied Randy as he baited his hook and prepared to cast his line into the dark water.

"Sometimes I wish I lived down here," laughed Jonathan. "No balls, no courts, no people whose names you have to remember, just fun and fishing and swimming."

"I'm tired of remembering names," replied Wilton. "I still don't understand why I don't get to say anything other than their names when I tell Lord Albert he's got a visitor. I would think it would be much more helpful if I let him know that Lord Addington is here and he brought his awful wife with him."

"You don't have to say he brought his awful wife with him," replied Randy, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows that Lord Addington's wife is awful..."

Wilton accepted the idea with a nod.

"Perhaps it was just a poor example," he conceded. "It's just deadly dull, that's all..."

Jonathan eyed the others and cleared his throat, debating whether to bring up the subject with his friends. Finally he decided.

"Do you ever think about...you know...kissing a girl?"

Being men of the world, Wilton and Randy eyed each other discretely, unwilling to commit a faux pas. Gentlemen their age did not concede that they thought of girls favorably since it was well known that girls, a mere year prior, had been condemned as icky. Still, earlier discussions had opened the door for a possible reevaluation of girls as people and since the question had been asked, it required some sort of response.

"My brother says that the best time to kiss a girl is when it is dark," stated Randy with a certain authority, hoping to deflect the main thrust of the question. "To me, it suggests that if you are going to commit such a rash act, it is best to do so when there is no light so that no one can see your mistake and he should know because he is almost sixteen..."

"That's ridiculous," replied Wilton with a dismissive wave of the hand. "If it is dark, how could you possibly kiss her? Common sense tells you that you cannot kiss what you cannot see? I think that your brother was pulling your leg, Randy. Everyone knows that if you are stuck in the dark with someone, all you can do is talk to them and who wants to talk to a girl?"

"I disagree. I could imagine that you could kiss a girl in the dark," said Jonathan thoughtfully.

"It's impossible," replied Wilton reasonably. "That makes no sense at all if you think about it! How can you kiss her if you can't see her? What if you miss her face? You might kiss her neck or her ear or something...you might even miss her all together! I mean it is incredible that any kissing gets done at all when you think about it. Most people I've seen close their eyes when they kiss a girl, which is risky enough but at least if you do close your eyes during the daytime, you could have seen what you were doing and pretty much line things up before you closed them. Also, you could peek if you were not sure, but in the dark, it is just impossible, what can you do? You can't even see her to line her up! Besides, you know girls, they're all afraid of the dark. A girl would be jumping around and crying the whole time. Trust me; you don't want to get a girl alone in the dark, nothing good will come of it!"

"It does seem to make more sense the way you explain it," replied Jonathan, casting out his line and easing back on the soft sand. "Still, why do you think all of the minstrels always sing songs about people meeting at night and kissing?"

"They always say they meet by the moonlight," instructed Randy. "Obviously they wouldn't be able to find each other in the dark, so there is always moonlight or what the singer is saying would make no sense."

"I suppose," stated Jonathan. "Still, it does not explain why people act so oddly. Take for example Lord Parker; he spent all that time finding a wife that is so beautiful all you want to do is spend your time looking at her and then at night, he cannot even see her. It makes the whole venture seem a bit ridiculous and yet at night time, he seems just as anxious to see her as he does in the daytime, sometimes even more so! It doesn't make sense to me..."

"He might as well have married someone ugly," replied Randy. "I mean, even Lord Addington's wife would look good in the dark..."

Wilton shuddered, "It will never be dark enough for Lord Addington's wife to look good. There isn't that much darkness anywhere..."

"Well, when I get older, I'm going to find a beautiful girl and I'm going to stay with her all day long and then she can do whatever she wants at night," stated Jonathan. "Who cares what she does at night, as you've said, you can't see her anyway..."

The others laughed in agreement as they sat down next to him to relax near the calm dark waters of the secret lake.

***

Lord Parker and Lady Gertrude's home near Wharton was a beautiful palace some three miles from the Royal Castle on the opposite side of the village of Wharton. Marie, Alex, Ernest and the children gave the manor to the young couple as a wedding present just a year before. It had begun life as a retreat for Alex and Ernest's mother and had started off as a cozy cottage in the midst of a large private garden. As the home expanded, it had become more grand until it had become a palace in its own right, though much smaller and harder to defend (in case of attack) than Wharton.

Gertrude, who had grown up with Alex and Ernest, had often visited the place as a child and had always loved it. Now that it was hers, she had done her utmost to make it the most beautiful home she could. Parker was justly proud of his wife's creation and it was here that they dreamed of starting their family together.

A servant finished lacing Lady Gertrude's dress and stood back to admire her mistress.

"It is a beautiful gown, milady," she crooned. "No one will be able to take their eyes off of you."

Gertrude smiled, "I am only looking for one set of eyes to be upon me..."

The woman laughed, "Oh I'm sure his lordship will be enchanted, milady; you look like an angel."

"I felt like an angel last night," she giggled. How lucky she was, to have such a generous and giving lover. "I just hope that today will be a beautiful day for Ernest and Donna."

"Well, the sun is shining and the weather is cool," smiled the woman, shuffling towards the door. "Should I let the coachman know that you are ready to go?"

"Yes, please," smiled Gertrude.

As the woman left, she stared at herself in the mirror, how would she look pregnant? How would she carry a baby, would she be all belly or would she grow large all over? She smiled, no matter how she looked, she was sure that Parker would love her and their son...She stopped to scold herself.

"Do as father said," she murmured at her reflection. "Pray for a healthy child, it does not matter if it is a boy or a girl, just as long as it is healthy."

How she wished she knew all ready. She could be pregnant this very instant, but there was no way to be sure, not yet anyway. Closing her eyes, she said a quick prayer, please let us be pregnant; what a wonderful gift that would be...

### Chapter 8

Marie awoke with a start. It had been a long, anxious night and she had fought sleep for as long as she could, hoping and waiting for Alex to return, but he had not. Lying on her side, it took her a moment to collect her thoughts. It suddenly occurred to her that she had nodded off in the chair by the fire place, she had not come to bed...

Someone had to have placed her in bed after she had fallen asleep. Turning, she saw her husband's broad back covered in his night shirt gently rising and falling as he lay sleeping beside her. A feeling of regret for having upset him nearly overwhelmed her; the poor man had the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders and had been working so hard and he had barely gotten into bed...taking a deep breath, she shook her head.

Peering over his shoulder, she looked down at his face, barely given color by the slowly gathering light of the just rising morning sun. He looked so tired and troubled, even in his sleep. Lying down beside him, she placed her arm around him, hugging him about the waist and spooned close to him. She kissed his shoulder and closed her eyes, she would do anything for him if she could, why had she upset him so? She wanted to take away his problems, not contribute to them and all he wanted to do was love her. She heard him sigh in his sleep and she snuggled closer to him. Soon she would have to wake him, Ernest and Donna would be arriving early and there was still so much to do.

"Darling," she whispered softly into his ear. "My love..."

Alex' head snapped up, and then he tried to look over his shoulder at her, his bleary eyes trying to focus on her face.

"We have to get up, my love," she said softly. "Today your brother brings his bride to Wharton."

Alex stared at her as if translating her words from a foreign language to his own.

"What time is it?" he croaked, squinting at the light building in intensity through the window.

"It is just after dawn," she said softly.

Alex moaned and dropped his head on his pillow, "Oh God..."

"Did you get any sleep?" she asked softly.

Closing his eyes he shook his head, "Very little."

"Did you bring me to bed?" she asked.

"You were asleep in the chair," he mumbled, gesturing vaguely towards the curtain. "I was worried that you would wake up feeling awful... When I picked you up, you just put your arms around my neck, but you don't remember that do you? You must have been very tired..."

"I wanted to wait for you, I wanted to apologize," she replied.

"Maybe you shouldn't wait up for me. You were waiting for me last night when I came in," he said softly, "and that did not go very well..."

"I am sorry my love," she said softly. "I should not have let my insecurities get the better of me."

"I am sorry," he said, forcing his eyes open. "I should not have been short with you. I am sorry for getting angry, believe me, my love, I was not angry with you, I was upset and tired and...well, I am very sorry. I stormed off in frustration when I should have been here to tell you that nothing matters but our love."

Sliding up to his face, she kissed him tenderly.

"I am sorry, my love, it is just that when anyone speaks of parting us, it drives me mad. I know that you love Jonathan and Annalisse, I know they are your children, but when they speak of us not being able to have children together..." her eyes filled with tears. "You have given us everything and I can give you nothing..."

Alex wrapped his arms around her, "That is not true, Marie and you know it. You have given me the most precious gift in the world, your love. You HAVE given me children; I could not love Jonathan and Annalisse more. The council is full of selfish fools. I could not have wished for a better wife and mother, I could not have wished for better children. Every day, you three give me a life and a home. You have given me everything, Marie. What have I given you, my love? Things, just things; you are the ones who have given the true gifts..."

"You forget that you give us your love," she said quickly. "We don't care about the things, we care about you, we love you..."

"And I love you," he replied. Looking down at her, he asked her softly, "Do you doubt my love?"

"Never," she said, hugging him tightly.

"If you do not doubt my love for you, then never ask me to send you away for when you do, you ask me to break my own heart," he replied, struggling to maintain his composure. "I will never send you away; I would never be able to stand it..."

She held him tightly and wept, burying her face in his chest. Her world was so perfect, so filled with love. Why did they have to bother them, pick at them? She would do anything to give her love a child, not because she doubted him, but just to relieve him of the constant questions, the insensitive inquiries. Reaching up, she kissed him gently. She would do anything for him if she could...

***

To Donnas' shock, a massive crowd had lined the route into the town of Wharton, cheering her arrival. She had thought there might be a few people who would look out of their windows and then return to their own lives, but she was completely unprepared for the reception they were receiving. She, like Ernest, had hoped to slip into the capitol without any fanfare, but the King had found out about their plan and had requested that there be a proper procession to the castles this morning.

"I will catch unholy hell if you two sneak into town without giving the people a chance to see the new bride," stated Alex. "I have enough hostility to deal with without antagonizing the entire village!"

Donna sat in a beautiful open carriage, wearing her best dress while Ernest rode astride a beautiful grey horse next to the carriage. Glancing back at the large wagon containing her belongings she winced, there was no way to hide all her possessions though the men driving the wagon were trying their best to trail the procession discretely. How she wished they might have done this more quietly, but she knew what Alex had said was true and she had no wish to make his life more difficult. He had given his consent to their marriage and had been so generous, this procession was the least she could do for him and Marie.

Looking to Ernest for some indication of what to do, she smiled as he began waving to the cheering crowd in a very deliberate and over the top fashion, letting the people in on the joke that his bride had no idea of how to act. Suddenly he turned his horse towards the carriage and bowing from his saddle with a sweeping gesture, his hat in hand, he forced his horse to bow as well which brought forth enormous cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Donna could not help but smile and began to relax, waving to the crowd and concentrating on her husband-to-be's antics. Pulling the horse back upright, he suddenly jumped up upon the saddle and put his hands to his heart as her carriage rolled by. The crowd went wild as Ernest slid back down into the saddle and cantered off after the carriage.

As they approached the main gates of the city, trumpeters began to blow a loud, joyous welcoming call from high above on the ramparts and the crowds increased in size, the cheering becoming greater in intensity. A troop of cavalry soldiers, armor gleaming in the early morning sun, trotted out from the city and provided an escort for the engaged couple. At the gate, Ernest gave the reins of his horse to one of the cavalry officers and then slid into the coach beside his beloved as the crowd roared its approval.

Passing through the gates, Donna saw lines of troops stretched out on either side of the main thoroughfare fighting to control the crowd. The village took on the atmosphere of a carnival as the people began to pour out of their houses, cheering and toasting the bride and groom as they made their way towards the royal palace.

At last the happy couple entered the gates of the royal palace where, in front of the main entrance, a platform had been erected. Before the platform stood the nobility of the land and upon it stood the King and Queen and their children, waiting to greet the engaged couple. Ernest leapt to his feet and opened the carriage door just as the trumpeters blew a welcoming flourish and the drummers pounded out a march that made the courtyard shake. Donna appeared slightly overwhelmed, but stepping down from the carriage and intertwining her arm with her beloved's, she made her way to the base of the platform, stopping there as Alex raised his hands for silence.

The musicians ceased playing and the crowd grew silent as Alex smiled down at his brother and his bride-to-be.

"On behalf of her majesty the Queen and myself, our entire family and our entire kingdom, we welcome you Lady Donna, both to your new home and to your new family."

Cheers exploded from all sides as Donna curtsied low and Ernest bowed before the royal couple. Alex reached down and taking her hand, brought her and his brother up to stand between him and Marie on the platform.

"Congratulations, Ernest," he cried into his brother's ear as they waved to the crowd.

"I think she is a bit overwhelmed," stated Ernest happily, grasping his bride's hand with one hand and waving with his other.

"It is so good to have you here, welcome," said Marie, kissing Donna on the cheek.

"Thank you, your majesty," she replied, fighting back tears and waving as the cheers only increased in volume.

Led by his brother and his wife, Ernest escorted Donna into the main hall, where a feast had been prepared. Seated at a long dais beside the King and Queen, they watched the entertainment that had been arranged, enjoying every moment. The festivities lasted the entire day and it was not until early evening, just after an extraordinary dinner, that the two were able to escape to the Queen's study with Marie while Alex and the children ran interference with the horde of well wishers downstairs.

"I am afraid that it will be like this the entire week," smiled Ernest.

"It gets worse in the weeks after the wedding," laughed Marie, taking a seat and urging Donna to do the same. "Everyone will want to be your host and hostess; everyone will wish to speak with you, to give a dinner in your honor, to have a ball for you..."

"Perhaps it won't be as bad for me," hoped Donna. "I am not becoming the Queen..."

"No, you are only marrying the King's most trusted advisor and favorite companion," countered Marie with a knowing smile. "They will all be trying to outdo themselves in order to curry your favor."

Donna looked at Ernest, "I have no idea what invitations to accept or reject..."

"Stasha and I will assist you," said Marie soothingly. "You need not worry about it, Donna. Believe me, I know how overwhelming it can be, but we will all get through this together, isn't that correct Ernest?"

"Well, we'll try," conceded Ernest happily. "Honestly, I only accept invitations from people who have truly good chefs. If the food were good, I'd have eaten with old Jeftus himself..."

"Ernest," scolded Donna, giving him a push and glancing at Marie. "You offend Marie..."

"No he doesn't," smiled Marie. "He is the one person who can say almost anything and get away with it, even with me. You would not have liked the cooking at my brother's house; he was a great lover of gruel."

"Actually, I was once his prisoner if you remember correctly," smiled Ernest. "I'm glad I brought my own apples or it would have been a very trying time. Yes, he was not the most gracious host."

A knock at the study door was followed by a large soldier appearing in the room.

"We are ready, your majesty..."

"Must we return to the festivities so soon?" asked Donna hesitantly.

"We are going to escape," smiled Ernest, rising and taking her hand. "Marie has arranged for us to get away."

"Follow Brogdan," instructed Marie. "He will lead you to a covered carriage which will take you to a quiet place away from this, a secluded cottage in a secured spot. Both of you will have to come back tomorrow of course, but for tonight, relax and rest." With a hug for each, she sent Donna and Ernest on their way.

How she wish she could slip away with them. With a deep sigh, she opened the study door and prepared to make small talk once more.

It would be many long exhausting hours before the Queen was allowed to retire and then several hours before the King could slip into bed next to her. Several messengers had arrived and despite the festivities, the King had been forced to retreat to his study with Albert for several hours to discuss and write replies. The last missive of the evening had been a detailed report from the Royal Governor of Vesek, explaining various improvements to several properties that were being rebuilt and a warning about an imposter posing as the Countess of Keneon who was on her way to Wharton to seek her "birthright" from the King.

Albert tottered off to bed while Alex wrote the last command of the long day, instructing the captain of the guards not to allow admittance to anyone claiming to be the Countess of Keneon and to assign a man to follow her movements should she appear, preparatory to charging her with impersonating another person. Calling one of his senior squires, he told him to deliver the message to the captain and then go to bed. With that, the King retreated to his own room where he found his wife asleep. Slipping into bed beside her, he was asleep shortly after lying down.

***

"Perhaps it would be wise, milady, to speak with some of the noble families along the route," ventured Ellen as the coach rocked steadily forward on its journey. "Certainly even some of these Zambelian nobles knew your father and we could garnish support amongst people of your own class. Your father held several posts for the late King's father before he retired..."

"I doubt they would seek to give me my due," replied the Countess evasively, not wishing to resort to magic to end the conversation. "You must understand that almost no one knew of my father's marriage and subsequent loss."

"Still, milady, they could speak of your character if you were to cultivate their company..."

The Countess ceased listening as Ellen prattled on, having decided upon her own plan prior to their departure and refining it in her mind as they travelled each day. The first step was to engage someone who had access to the king, thus her choice of conveyance. The coachman had assured her that their route was routinely used by royal messengers and that they were certain to run into a few during their journey. She did not need the high and mighty to assist her, just someone young and strong who would be physically close enough to the king to send him her special message.

She knew that the king had already been poisoned against her by the report sent by the royal governor, it would have arrived a day or two ago, if not sooner. There would be no chance of giving him her side of the story and there was no chance he would see her alone, so if one could not speak to the king, what choice did one have? To Susan's mind the choices were to either get a message to him through another route, which was far too unlikely, OR to supply herself with a new king. A new king would be young, impressionable and most of all, would not have read the report and in the confusion caused by the death of the present king, he would more than likely meet with you, especially if you wished to meet to express your condolences.

The current state of affairs in Zambelia offered the Countess two alternatives, one as good as the other. The new king would be the current king's brother, a man of limited mental capacity who could be easily manipulated or the adopted son of the king, who was at the proper age to make the most childish mistakes when confronted with true beauty.

In that instance, things could progress even more directly. She imagined the boy meeting the beautiful countess, lost in his grief, a mere boy given a man's job who did not know the ways of the world. She would be able to teach him many things. She smiled to herself; if she could not enslave a young boy she had no right to claim to be a Countess. Yes, she would present herself to the new king, arrange a rendezvous and let nature take its course. If he were hesitant, she certainly had the power of changing his mind one way or another.

She would have to be kind and gentle, at least in the beginning, but it would not take long before she could have the boy remove the Queen and his father's counselors, allowing her to revert to her usual ways.

"What do you think, milady?" asked Ellen.

Susan looked at her and smiled, "I have an idea of what I should do, Ellen. For the time being, be silent, I need my rest..."

### Chapter 9

The new day broke, a cloudy and dark sky hanging low over the towers of Wharton as thunder echoed in the distance and lightning danced across the sky. As the storm rose over the castle, the inclement weather was making Stasha's day a difficult one. It was not easy to change the extensive arrangements that had been made because today dignitaries were being welcomed as they arrived for the wedding. With the weather souring, she had been forced to cancel some events and changes the venues of others, which meant that Stasha and her staff were scrambling to make the new arrangements work.

For Donna and Ernest, the changes were making a stressful day even more trying. Donna was not comfortable being put on display and felt awkward at making small talk and so far, it was all she had been asked to do. Thankfully, she had a way with names and was making a most favorable impression on everyone who met her. With Ernest at her side, she did not lack for entertainment and diversion, so the chore, while bothersome, was not unrelenting.

For Marie and Alex, the influx of important visitors, the change of venues and the general chaos seemed oddly familiar. They had gone through a very similar time a little more than a year earlier and both appeared surprisingly calm. Of course, with Stasha and Albert working behind the scenes, they also knew that things were well in hand. Also, Annalisse and Jonathan were both wonderful helpers and distractions for both them and their guests and made the ordeal much easier.

It had been arranged that while Marie and Alex met the foreign dignitaries in the main audience chamber, Donna and Ernest would meet with the noble families of Zambelia in the throne room. To her delight, Annalisse was allowed to travel between the two groups, charming visitors and bringing a much needed breath of fresh air to the main participants.

In contrast to his sister, Jonathan was required to stay with his parents, a job he did not relish. While it was certainly boring meeting all of these strange people, he would do anything for his parents and he attempted to assist as much as possible. To his embarrassment, both Randy and Wilton were acting as junior squires to the King today, which meant that they were required to stand behind the King in case Alex or Marie wanted anything. Jonathan sat beside his father, desperately trying to avoid their gaze, hoping that they did not see him as different but knowing it was unavoidable.

As the latest delegation bowed and left and prior to the next delegation being presented, Alex leaned over to his son and whispered in his ear, "Do you want to run away as much as I do?"

Jonathan smiled as he whispered back, "I wish I could fly away. It would be a good time to be a dragon..."

"I bet Wilton and Randy's feet hurt," commented Alex, glancing at his squires. "They just stand there; it must be even more boring than what we are going through..."

"Wilton would not mind if you let him speak," replied Jonathan, trying to suppress a giggle.

"Maybe I could do better than that and ask him to sing," smiled Alex with a wink.

Jonathan put his hand over his mouth and closed his eyes, trying not to laugh out loud. Wilton was a horrible singer. When he was younger he had joined the children's choir and proved so loud and tone deaf that he was quickly reassigned to the children's band, where his clumsiness made him the least dependable triangle ringer in the history of the children's orchestra.

Marie touched Alex' hand, causing him to lean over towards her, "Behave yourself, it is bad enough to have to do this, if the two of you begin to get silly it will only go on longer and start all sorts of rumors."

"I was just going to ask Wilton to sing," confessed Alex innocently.

Marie glanced over at the two squires and smiled, each returning her smile, uncertainty in their eyes. Why was the Queen smiling at them? Had they done something wrong? Had they done something right?

"Do you think we can send Jonathan away for a little while, just to stretch his legs?" she asked, glancing anxiously at their son.

Alex grimaced, "Technically, no, it will be seen as an insult to any group he did not meet, but wait, I have an idea..."

Suddenly standing, the King surveyed the back of the room. His rising brought the procession of delegates to a halt as all those present bowed.

"I thought I had left it there," he said to Marie, pointing towards the door.

"I believe that is what you had indicated earlier, my lord," replied Marie casually, peering in the direction he was pointing.

"Jonathan," he said, motioning his son to rise and pointing towards the door. "I left it there, did I not?"

Jonathan rose, uncertain as to where he should be looking.

Alex put his arm around him and pointed, "There, it was there was it not?"

"Was it?" asked Jonathan, unsure of what his father was discussing with him.

"Wilton, Randy," snapped Alex.

The boys were at his side in an instant.

"I want the two of you to go with the prince and find it and don't come back until you have it, do you understand?"

"Sire, what is it that..." began Wilton.

"Come with me," commanded Jonathan, getting the hint from his mother's smile. Turning to his father, he bowed, "I swear father, I will not return until I have found it!"

"I will hold you to that, my son," replied Alex, clapping his hand upon his son's shoulder, his slight smile undetectable beneath his beard. "Now go!"

"Come with me," commanded Jonathan abruptly to his companions as he marched out of the chamber, his two friends first bowing to the King and Queen and then trailing behind their friend trying to hide their bewilderment.

Retaking his seat, Alex motioned for the next delegation to be presented. Leaning towards him, Marie whispered softly, "Thank you, my love."

Alex nodded and favored his co-conspirator with a subtle smile.

***

In the small town of Chapro, a day's ride from Wharton, Aston awoke and stared at the ceiling, trying to remember the exact circumstances that had brought him to this spot. He had been selected by the Royal Governor of Vesek as this week's second courier and had set out almost a week ago to bring the pouch filled with messages for the King at Wharton. He had stopped here, at the second to last stop on his journey and had been having supper when the most beautiful woman he had ever seen entered and requested a room for herself and lodgings for her maid servant, her servant's husband and driver.

Aston had not been able to take his eyes off of her from the moment that she had entered the inn. She was an ethereal beauty, from her flaming red hair to her face to her figure; she seemed other worldly, as if an angel had decided to descend for the purpose of renting a room at a reasonably priced inn. When she had turned and requested a chair by the fire, the innkeeper had placed her right next to him, next to HIM, within arm's reach. At first he could not believe his good fortune, this wondrous creature was seated next to HIM and then, he remembered his manners and tried not to stare, but she had caught him almost immediately, indeed, had already noted his attentions and had actually seemed flattered.

He babbled an apology and she had been kindness itself, offering him to draw closer and to converse with her. He found himself drawn to her more and more as the night progressed and when she suggested that they share a late drink together he felt as if he had died and been allowed to approach the heavenly throne. For some reason, his mind was clouded as to the sequence of events that then followed, but now, as he awoke, her beautiful hair draping his arm like a silken cloth, he could not believe his great good fortune.

He watched as she awoke, shyly smiling at him and rising, kissing him with a passion he had only dreamed possible. They made love once again as they had for a better part of the evening and afterwards, as he lay in a love induced stupor, holding her in his arms and swearing his eternal love to her, she began to cry.

"Oh, my love, it cannot be," she wailed softly, her perfect fingers tracing his lips.

"What do you mean?" he asked, panic at the thought of losing her causing his pulse to quicken.

"My beloved, there is one who stands between us," she moaned, gently caressing his face and staring into his eyes intently. "There is one who stands between us, who will never allow our love to be..."

"Who?" he demanded angrily, "Who would dare try to separate us?"

"The King," she stated, her eyes filled with tears. "He keeps me as his play thing, he treats me like his..." she let the sentence die as she looked away, ashamed.

"The King?" snapped Aston. "But I have never seen you at Wharton, my darling..."

"Yes," she responded as she stared into his eyes. "You have seen me. You have seen him make improper advances to me at Wharton. You remember how he tore my clothes in the garden, how he forced himself on me in the garden, you remember my love, you remember..."

"I remember," he replied, his anger rising.

"He will never let me go," she stated. "The King will never let me go; he will never let us be together..."

"He will never let us be together," repeated Aston.

"If you love me, if you want us to be together, you must kill the King," she said, staring intently into his eyes. "You must kill the King."

"I must kill the King," he said softly.

"When you deliver your messages, you will be with him, alone in his study," she said. "You told me last night, you deliver your messages to him in his study, alone, did you not?"

"Alone..."

"When he turns to look at the messages you will draw your dagger and kill him," she purred.

"Kill him..."

"We will never be together unless he dies..." she continued, as she rose bodily above him, hovering a foot above him as he stared up from the bed, lost in a trance as she floated above him, smiling a wicked smile.

"I must kill him," he stated softly.

"Kill him and I will be yours," she promised, her perfect lips pouting. "Kill him, my love and we will never be parted, never...never..."

As he stared up at her, she slowly, ever so slowly faded away, leaving him on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I must kill the King," he stated firmly. "The King must die; it is the only way..."

***

Annalisse stood quietly behind Lady Gertrude as she finished dressing for this evening's ball. Watching the ladies of the court preparing for special occasions was something that Annalisse adored and she would flit like a butterfly from one end of the castle to the other, watching as the various ladies primped and prepared. While her mother was always her favorite to watch, Lady Gertrude and Stasha were not far behind but for completely different reasons.

Lady Gertrude was so beautiful and had such wonderful taste that when her preparations were finished, she always appeared to be angelic and glowing. She was also so friendly and happy, so kind and considerate, that Annalisse loved just to be around her.

Annalisse found Lady Stasha to be, while much older and grandmotherly, very beautiful as well, but to watch her prepare for an event was a great deal of fun because of the inventive ways she did things and the silly things she would say as she did them. One time, Stasha had lain down and had Annalisse stand on her back while the Queen had pulled her corset tight. Another time, pressed for time, she had worn an enormous tiara to dinner because she could not find her favorite comb to brush her hair.

Annalisse's favorite story, however, was the time Stasha had forgotten her shoes. She would have gone to a ball without them had not Albert remarked on how short she had suddenly seemed. At first she argued that nothing was wrong, but he had insisted.

"Stasha, you used to be much taller..."

"I'm no shorter now than I was this morning," she had replied. "I probably look shorter to you because you combed your hair."

Albert had frowned and looked at Annalisse before replying, "What does me combing my hair have to do with it?"

"Because in the morning, your hair is flat and we look like we are closer in height, but when you comb it, you look taller and so I look shorter."

It had taken Albert a moment to consider this because on the surface, it had seemed to make sense. Finally he decided not to argue the point directly.

"Before we go, give me a kiss," he had said.

"Oh no," she laughed, "no kissing. I know you, we'll never leave..."

"One little kiss," he coaxed.

With a bashful smile at Annalisse, she leaned over and tried to kiss him. Suddenly she frowned.

"What are you standing on?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied.

"Oh, my Lord," she said, lifting her ball gown and staring down at her feet, "someone stole my shoes!"

"Are you sure you put them on, because I see a pair over by the bed," replied Albert.

Stasha looked at the shoes as if to say, "So there you are, you traitors!" Looking back at her husband, she shrugged, "Whoever it was must have felt guilty about stealing from an old lady and brought them back."

Annalisse's memory was interrupted by Lady Gertrude's voice.

"And what are you smiling about?"

Annalisse blinked and was back to the present. She gasped as she looked at Lady Gertrude who appeared luminous in a silver color gown and beautiful pearl accessories.

"You look like you came from heaven," gasped Annalisse.

Lady Gertrude looked at her thinking how wonderful it would be to have a little girl of my own. Parker perhaps would be disappointed, but how wonderful to have a beautiful little girl to dress up and teach and love.

"Come my dear," she smiled, taking Annalisse by the hand. "It is your turn to get dressed. We must be ready..."

Soon, she thought, soon I will have a child of my own and everything will be perfect.

### Chapter 10

Alex sat down heavily at the desk in his study and frowned, it had been a long, long, long night. In all honesty, he had not laughed that much in a very long time. Ernest had been especially funny last night, the highlight of the evening being his formal introduction of his fiancé to the court and then his toast to his new bride. His formal introduction had dramatically sung praises to Donnas' beauty and virtue. He had finished it, however, by offering her hardy congratulations on the wisdom of accepting him as a husband.

Later, at the formal reception, he had raised his wine glass and had toasted his beloved, apologizing for the poor quality of his family, stating with striking sincerity that ever since he had been old enough to contemplate the misfortune of having such relatives, he had most sincerely prayed to have discovered that he was adopted. Finding, alas, that he was wheat amongst the chaff, he had described his lonely years, growing up as the brightest, best looking member of the family. Turning to the Queen, he praised her and the children for their bravery in becoming members of the family and offering him relatives who were nearly as attractive and intelligent as he himself. Finally, he concluded by stating that he would do all in his power to be the best husband to Donna that had ever been and he looked forward to spending eternity with her, that was unless she suddenly came to her senses and had the good sense to run away.

Shaking his head, Alex began to chuckle again; he was a blessed man to have such a brother. His mind wandered back to the toast, to a moment when he had looked at Marie and had seen her laughing and just beyond her, Annalisse and Jonathan laughing as well, the three of them happy and enjoying themselves. It was how he always wanted to think of them, the vision of that moment locked in his memory, the people he loved most in the world filled with joy. What could be better than that? He was a blessed man indeed.

Still, it had been a long evening and it had taken a good deal of his great strength to just get out of his bed this morning. It was bad enough to be tired but to have looked back and see his wife, sleeping in the nude, snuggling up against the warm spot where he had been a moment before...he shook his head. It was best not to look back sometimes or nothing would ever get done.

Casting an eye over the late evening dispatches he began separating them in order of urgency as was his habit. Ernest's wedding was only a few days away and while he was required at most of the various festivities, he still had to get some work done.

Working diligently, he had finished quite a bit of paperwork and was arose to go to his room to prepare for the special luncheon that Stasha had arranged for all of the honored visitors in the beautiful gardens outside. Glancing at the window and seeing the sunshine streaming in, Alex smiled. It would be a glorious day for Ernest and Donna and he had no doubt that it would be a great success. A knock at his door made him turn and as the door opened he smiled.

"Aston," he said happily. "You've made it back in time for the festivities..."

"Yes, sire," replied Aston, somewhat stiffly. "I arose early this morning to get back in plenty of time."

"Wonderful," remarked Alex as the young man handed him his courier's pouch. "Was your journey pleasant?"

"Very much so, milord," replied Aston, his mind flashing back to the passion he had enjoyed with the woman of his dreams.

"Good, good," smiled Alex. Opening the pouch he saw a deluge of letters and scrolls and sighed; more work. Well, he could escape for an hour or so after lunch and look them over, he decided, but for now, he had to prepare for the luncheon or Stasha and Marie would each have a word with him that he would not want to hear.

Turning to set the bag down on his desk, he never saw Aston pull the dagger from its sheath at his waist. Raising it above his head, teeth clenched in hatred, the young man stepped forward.

"Die dog!" he roared as he brought his arm down in a violent arc.

***

"I am sorry, milady, but I have many people here already," replied the innkeeper cordially. "The royal wedding is in two days and we have had people coming from everywhere to see Lord Ernest and his bride get married. I would love to accommodate you, but all I have to offer are some rooms on the top floor..."

"I desire the entire floor," countered Susan.

"There are only two others on the other side of the hall..." began the innkeeper, stopping as he saw her thinking.

Susan considered it for a moment and decided that here, in the doorway, was not the place to "make" him reconsider his position. It was almost lunch time and the streets were full of crowds, people in a festive mood, laughing and eating and drinking. With a frown, she eyed the innkeeper. He was one of those rare men who did not care about beauty or title. She suspected that he was married to a large, plain woman who had bore him several large, plain children and they all worked for the success of their inn and did not give a fig about anything outside of this building. Gesturing with her hand for him to lead the way, she trailed him into the inn.

The innkeeper led her through a large, clean main room filled with guests having their lunch to a stairway in the rear that led up to a second floor and then to a third. On the third floor, he turned and brought her to a large suite of rooms at the end of the hallway. The Countess swept into the rooms, examining them carefully as he pointed out the amenities and features.

Turning, she saw Ellen standing behind him and no one else in sight. Ellen was so thoroughly in her power that she questioned nothing, so when the Countess grabbed the man's face, she did not react at all. A moment later, the innkeeper left the room to inform the guests at the far end of the hall that they would have to find other accommodations. Wisely, the Countess had not pressed for more. She was certain that there would soon be an investigation and anything suspicious would arouse the authorities. A king's death tended to make officials uneasy...

***

Parker slid up behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her tenderly on the neck. She was surprised by his sudden appearance here in the garden, having assumed that he would be with Alex finishing some last minute work.

"What are you doing here?" she giggled, turning to hold him about the waist.

"I ran into Lord Albert on my way to the King's study this morning and he asked me to assist him with several things," he smiled, his handsome face mere inches from hers. "We finished a short time ago and it made no sense to go and see the King at this point, so I changed and ran here to be with my beautiful wife..."

Gertrude glanced about and seeing that no one was looking, gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"You must behave," she teased, "the Queen is here and the happy couple will soon arrive..."

Pulling her closer, he smiled, "I think the happy couple is already here..."

She giggled, he made her feel so happy and loved, "Whenever I am with you I am happy, but there are people about, what will they think. No, you must behave yourself..."

"And you?" he asked.

"I must behave myself as well," she giggled, "for now, anyway. Let me return to the Queen, I should be near her when Lord Ernest and his bride make their entrance."

"Very well," he stated, reluctantly loosening his grip, "but I will be nearby."

"And I will be watching for you, my love," she smiled.

With an adorable pout, he released her and watched her float back towards the circle of attendants hovering about the Queen. He shook his head, she was so beautiful and wonderful; how had he gotten so lucky?

### Chapter 11

Ernest and Donna had been placed in beautiful white gazebo in the center of the garden, a vantage point from which they could see all of the entertainments taking place all at once while people were free to mingle with them at their leisure. Much less formal than any of the other gatherings, this luncheon was to be fun and relaxed and the informality of the setting and the beauty of the day helped the harried couple to relax and actually enjoy themselves.

Not far away, seated on a beautiful marble bench, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting and her daughter, Queen Marie sat, receiving guests and chatting amiably with all who attended her. Annalisse sat, fascinated by her mother's conversation and the witty and happy words that were being exchanged.

Further away, Jonathan stood with Wilton and Randy and several slightly older squires, talking and laughing. They were all relaxed and having a good time, each in their own way and the luncheon promised to be a great success.

Stasha flitted about the garden, making sure that the guests were taken care of and that all was going according to plan. Happiest when busiest, she had a smile and kind word for everyone and everyone for her.

Lady Gertrude excused herself from Marie's side and joined her husband who was standing beside one of the ponds in the garden speaking to several of the nobles who were in attendance, including her father, Count Bartran. Upon the arrival of his beautiful bride, he placed his arm around her and smiled, always happy to be near the one he loved. He was just in the middle of the story when a bell high above in the tower rang a violent, earsplitting base note. It was so out of place and so surprising that for a moment, all anyone could do was clamp their hands to their ears and stare up at the source.

Looking up at her husband, Lady Gertrude was about to complain about the noise when she was surprised to see a look of horror creep across Parker's features.

"My love, what..."

"THE KING'S BELL!" roared Parker, twisting violently as he waved to the guards. "THE KING'S BELL!!!"

Other men in the garden took up the cry as the bell continued to ring.

Grasping his wife tightly about the waist, Parker sprinted towards the Queen, who sat on the bench, hands clamped to her ears, a look of confusion on her face.

"THE QUEEN'S GUARD!" yelled Parker, suddenly drawing his sword and pointing towards Marie. "THE QUEEN'S GUARD! HERE! HERE! THE QUEEN'S GUARD!!!"

Almost instantly a swarm of soldier began streaming out of Wharton castle, many of them scrambling to put on their gear as they ran into the garden, all with swords drawn. The many dignitaries and noble men and women who were standing about the garden suddenly erupted in movement, all attempting to flee from the sudden appearance of the armed men. Terrified waves of men and women streamed away from the castle heading deeper into the garden as the guards ran across the beautifully landscaped lawns, swords drawn, yelling and cursing.

Arriving at Marie's side, Parker turned and saw Ernest, running for all he was worth with Donna doing her best to remain at his side, both of them looking up at the bell as it continued to toll.

"What on earth is going on?" asked Marie, removing her hands and wincing as the bell continued to toll, now hearing other bells beginning to ring outside of the walls.

Parker looked to Ernest, who arrived in time to hear the question.

"The King's bell," he said hastily. "Alex is in trouble..."

Marie looked up frantically at the bell tower while another peal of the enormous bell shook the grounds.

"Take me to him," she commanded, rising as a panic began to overtake her.

"We can't milady," replied Parker. "We don't know what has happened or what the danger is..."

"Take me to him now!" snapped Marie, eyes filled with fire.

"We're in the open here, Parker," stated Ernest, glancing up at the battlements. "Get these people under the cover of the trees and get the captains to get their men into some sort of order..."

Marie broke from the group and began to run towards the castle. Alex had been in his study, he had to be near it or on in the hall leading to their rooms, he would have gone that way to get changed for the party.

From behind her Ernest caught up to her and grabbed her about the waist, "Marie, we can't go in yet, it might be a trap..."

"Alex is in trouble," she cried, fighting against his grip. "Let me go, I must see him!"

"We will go, I promise, but in a moment," replied Ernest. "Please, Marie, trust me on this..."

Marie felt the panic rising in her chest. What had happened to him, why were they all running here? Suddenly, the captain of the guard wheeled and ran up to her yelling out to the other guards.

"THE QUEEN'S GUARD, FORM HERE, FORM!"

Before Marie could react, a group of ten soldiers engulfed her, swords drawn, eyes darting in every direction, prepared for any type of attack.

"Mama, Mama!" cried out a voice.

Twisting to her right, she saw Brogdan running towards her, Annalisse tucked neatly beneath his massive arm. Annalisse was giggling uncontrollably as he drew up to her and deposited her in front of him.

"Mama, I don't know what game we are playing, but can Brogdan and I play it again?" she asked merrily.

Marie looked back at the castle, her panic only rising as the bell continued to toll and the noise level continued to increase.

"I must see him!" she yelled, tears in her eyes.

"Our orders, your highness..." began the captain of the guard.

"THE QUEEN HAS GIVEN YOU YOUR ORDERS! YOU ARE TO TAKE HER TO THE KING IMMEDIATELY!"

The group turned to see Jonathan standing with a sword in his hand, his face expressionless and set like stone.

"YOUR QUEEN HAS GIVEN AN ORDER AND YOU WILL OBEY," he snapped. His tone left no room for argument.

The guards looked to one another and then at the captain, uncertain of what they should do. Just then, Ernest returned with Donna on his arm, his sword flashing in the sunlight.

"Forgive me, your majesty," said Ernest, bowing to Marie. "I acted incorrectly and I ask your forgiveness. His highness, the prince, is of course correct." Turning to the captain, he stated calmly, "You heard his highness, we are taking her majesty to the King..." turning back to Marie, he continued, "but we must move cautiously, your majesty. Prince Jonathan, I ask you to please stand with your mother and the princess in between the guards, we do not know what we will encounter. Donna, you too, stay with them as we move. Now I ask that all of you follow me..."

He set off at a brisk pace, followed by the soldiers who continued to form a human shield around Marie, the children and Donna. Parker brought up the rear having secured an area beneath the trees for his wife and father-in-law as well as the other guests. The guards had formed a defensive line in front of the guests before the trees and were quickly moving to secure all parts of the massive gardens.

Entering the castle through a side door, the group followed Ernest up a stairwell, the sound of the bell muffled within the thick stone walls but still clearly audible. Now they could hear the sound of running and shouting as different companies of guards continued pouring out of various doorways and hallways adding to the confusion.

Marie could barely breathe as she pushed against the back of Brogdan and the others, pleading with them to hurry. What could have happened to have triggered this reaction, she wondered. What if Alex...she denied the thought, would not consider it. Not her love, no! She felt her knees weaken, but she forced herself forward, her panic causing her to have difficulty breathing. She could not seem to gain control of herself, thinking only of Alex, her beloved Alex...

Annalisse clutched at her mother's waist, the realization that her father was in some sort of danger making her too frightened to speak as she ran to keep up with the longer legs that were shuffling forward all around her. Jonathan kept his sword at the ready, his jaw clenched and his eyes and ears aware of every sight and sound. His other hand held his mother's hand and occasionally he would speak in a clip, automatic way, telling her that everything would be all right and not to be frightened as he fought his own fear. What had happened? What would happen?

***

The Countess of Keneon had been surprised by the size and beauty of the village of Wharton. Staring out of the windows of her sitting room, she watched as people crowded the wide, orderly streets. The excitement of the impending royal nuptials was contagious and it seemed that everyone was celebrating. She smiled, congratulating herself on her choice of venue. The inn was located just outside of the castle's walls, a perfect perch from which to watch and listen.

Ellen was just unpacking her ladyship's things and preparing the rooms when an enormous bell had begun to toll. Soon bells throughout the village began to toll as well and within minutes the village seemed to be in a state of panic as people rushed towards the castle and guards began rushing into the village.

Chaos seemed to reign everywhere for almost an hour before suddenly, things became deathly quiet. A great uneasiness seemed to settle over the village as people had sought out the safety of their homes or rooms. Ellen reported there had been some sort of trouble at the castle and that though the inn was packed with people, you could hear a pin drop in the dining room below. Occasionally, a straggler would appear on the street, moving at a hurried, uneasy trot to gain their destination and then all would be silent again. Groups of armed guards were on every street corner looking uneasy and casting nervous glances back towards the castle.

Rumors immediately filled the village; the King had been injured, the King had been killed, no, the entire royal family was dead. Whispers flew and fear spread, but the silence lay heavy upon the town and no one seemed to be capable of raising their voice to a normal tone while in the window of the inn, a beautiful woman sat, her chin resting on the palm of her hand, smiling.

***

Below the walls, in the garden of the castle, both nobles and foreign dignitaries stood in small groups, speaking in hushed tones. They dare not approach the guards, who seemed uneasy and unsteady, casting nervous glances back at the great walls from which they had rushed forth.

Many of these men had fought beside their king, loved him for his bravery and kindness and would gladly die for him. Now they, like the people here in this garden, waited for any word on what was going on, about what had happened.

Finally, Lord Chester, one of the king's most trusted advisors and one of the most popular men in the kingdom, approached the captain of the guards. He was a large man with a walrus mustache and a head of unruly brown hair. Rumbling up to the captain, he looked up uneasily at the walls and then spoke quietly.

"Any word, my dear fellow?"

The captain shook his head, noting that several of his men leaned closer to ease drop on the conversation.

"No, milord, nothing, no one has yet to send us any word."

Lord Chester took the statement in with a solemn nod.

"I was thinking that perhaps we should offer a prayer for his highness," he stated softly.

The captain looked at Lord Chester, his face revealing a slight smile of affection. With a nod, he replied, "I think that would be a good thing to do, milord. Would you, perhaps, lead us?"

Lord Chester returned the smile, "Certainly, my dear fellow, certainly."

As the guards drew near them, he blessed himself and lowering his head began, "Lord, your ways are not our ways, your plans, not our plans. We often find ourselves wondering as to what you allow and what you, in your wisdom, prevent. We ask Lord that we may accept your plans as our own and embrace your decrees, no matter how painful, and no matter how frightening. Please Lord, bless our King, bless his family, but always, Lord, may your will be done." Looking up, he saw that the little group had grown considerably, guards and dignitaries, nobles and servants surrounding him in an ever increasing circle, heads bared and bowed. Looking up to heaven, he smiled at the sunshine, a sad but trusting smile and said more loudly, "Let us offer the King's King the great prayer he has given us."

Together, the group recited the great prayer and then, blessing themselves, looked at the walls of the castle and waited. What had happened? What had the Lord decided?

### Chapter 12

Upon reaching the second floor and the hallway leading to the King's study, the group that Ernest led ran into a large group of guards, all shouting and speaking at once. Ernest was finally able to shout them down and ascertain what was going on.

"The King was attacked in his study," reported several of the guards.

"ALEX!" yelled Marie, reaching, arm outstretched over Brogdan's large shoulder in the direction of the study.

"How is he?" snapped Ernest. "Who was he attacked by?"

"The doctor is with him now, milord," replied the guard. "I'm sorry, milord, I don't know who attacked him, I don't know anything else..." Then, without being told he spun around and began to yell, "MAKE WAY, MAKE WAY YOU DOGS, THE QUEEN, THE QUEEN IS HERE!!!"

The guards acquired some semblance of order as they snapped to attention, pushing against each other to line the walls and leave a space for the group to travel along. Despite the width of the hallway, it was difficult to push past the many guards who had flooded the area, but the group proceeded forward towards the study door.

The door to the study was thrown open wide and beyond it one could see a lot of activity, men going in and out, rough voices shouting and candles and torches throwing things into odd and fantastic light and shadow.

Gaining the door, Ernest stepped inside and yelled at the assembled group, "STAND BACK, THE QUEEN!"

The group froze as Marie pushed her way through the door.

"ALEX! ALEX!!!"

Entering the room, she looked down at the stone floor, seeing blood splattered upon it. A short distance away, a man was splayed upon the floor, two massive guards standing over him, swords touching his chest. Next to them on a chair sat Albert, his eyes wide as he stared at Marie, obviously startled by her cry. A guard stood beside him, speaking to him in low tones.

Turning she sought out Alex' desk and there, seated on his desk she saw Alex look up at her, his sleeve bloody, his arm being held by two men while the doctor worked on it.

"ALEX!" she cried, flying to him and wrapping herself around him.

Holding her tightly with his uninjured arm, he grimaced slightly as the doctor continued stitching his wound. Kissing her face, he spoke softly to her, "I'm all right, my love, I'm all right. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you were frightened..."

Jonathan and Annalisse pushed their way past the guards and ran to their father, Annalisse grabbing him about the waist, Jonathan hugging him about the chest and then standing beside him, staring up at him with a mixture of relief and concern.

"Oh Daddy," cried Annalisse, weeping violently.

"Daddy is all right, honey," he replied. "I'm all right..."

"What happened, father?" asked Jonathan, gripping his father's shoulder tightly and unwilling to let it go.

Alex removed his arm from Marie's waist and patted his son's shoulder, "I am not sure, Jonathan, I truly am not certain. Aston came in and handed me some dispatches and as I turned to put them on the desk, he attacked me. As luck would have it, Albert had just entered the room to remind me of the luncheon. He called out to me and as I turned, Aston slashed my arm. I grabbed the arm with his dagger in it with my good arm and Albert jumped upon his back. The commotion brought the guards in."

"But why would he attack you? Why?" asked Marie, tears streaming down her face as she looked at the prone man on the floor.

"I don't know," replied Alex, genuinely perplexed. "He kept raving that I had disgraced his love and that unless I died they could never be together..."

"He was quite mad, milady," stated one of the guards standing watch over the fallen man. "It took his majesty, Lord Albert and the two of us to wrestle the knife from him and finally we brought him down with a blow to the back of the head. He had the strength of ten men..."

"Your arm..." began Marie, looking at the bloody wound.

"It is not serious, milady," stated the doctor as he cut the thread and tied it tightly, making the King grimace again. "It required a good number of stitches to close, but it will be fine in a few weeks time."

"But all of the blood..." began Marie, scanning the red that had pooled upon the floor.

"Some is mine," admitted Alex, "but most of it is his. We had to beat him bloody before he would go down; it was as if he were possessed."

Alex looked down at Aston, bewildered. He was a young man from a good family, had served faithfully and was always one of his favorites, a truly dependable young man. What had happened? Looking down at Marie, he drew her more tightly against him and kissed her softly on the forehead as she melted into his chest. Marie shuddered, working mightily to suppress her tears.

"Are we done here, doctor?" he asked, worried about the strain that the scene was placing upon his family.

"Yes, sire," replied the doctor in a clip, professional tone.

"Then, I would like to go to my rooms," he stated softly.

"I would recommend it sire," replied the doctor. "It would be best if, for the time being, you rested." Dropping his voice discretely, he drew closer to Alex, "With your permission, sire, may I to attend to that fellow..." He motioned with a nod of his head towards Aston who had not stirred since he had hit the floor.

"By all means," said Alex. Looking up, he nodded at Albert and Ernest who stood together, conferring in the doorway, "We're going to our rooms, if you two will come with us..."

"And Donna," stated Ernest.

"Of course," replied Alex, nodding towards Donna who had just then peeked into the room, "I did not know that you were here, Donna. By all means..."

With that, Alex rose carefully and then began to lead Marie out of the room. Annalisse continued clutching his waist, making walking a bit awkward, but he prevented anyone from interfering with her, recognizing her need to be close to him now. Jonathan walked behind him, a sword in one hand, his other hand glued to his father's shoulder. Alex again did nothing to prevent it, realizing that he too seemed to need to touch him as well, to make sure that he was all right. Entering the hallway, the guards, upon seeing their King began to cheer.

"Quiet, QUIET," called out Alex. As the guards became silent, he offered them a smile, "Thank you, all of you, but please, some quiet." Glancing upwards he smiled and continued, "And for God's sake, will someone go and stop them from ringing that damn bell!"

Another cheer went up as Alex and his family made their way through the crowd and headed towards their rooms.

***

The Countess sat at her window awaiting any telltale sign but nothing was heard until almost the dinner hour. Slowly people began to populate the streets again. At first, by their quiet attitudes and whispered conversations, she felt certain that her plan had succeeded, but within the hour, the crowds grew more festive. Criers racing from the castle began proclaiming on the street corners that the king was unharmed and that the assassin had been captured.

Shutting her window, the countess frowned. With a wave of her hand, a goblet of wine flew across the room to her, which she drank quickly before speaking to Ellen, who cowered in the corner.

"The problem, you see, is sending men to do anything," she began pointedly. "Twice now, I have been disappointed by men. It is true, they are easy to manipulate, but when you really need them, really need them to show some sort of ability and initiative they are always found to be wanting."

"They say that it was young Aston who attempted to kill the King. They will kill him now for sure," stated Ellen, confused by her mistress' indifference. "Why would he try to kill the King, milady? What did he expect to gain from that?" Rising, she crossed to the Countess and fell to her knees, "If they find out that you were...close... to him, milady, we will be done for. Let us get away immediately, I will pack..."

"You will do no such thing," replied the Countess, annoyed at the intrusion upon her own thoughts. "They can torture him all they want, he will not reveal anything, of that I am certain. Besides, what is there to reveal? He acted alone; we were not conspirators with him. What we need is another way, another way to get to the King..."

"We are doomed," moaned Ellen, lowering herself to her haunches and crying into her apron.

"Oh, shut up," snapped Susan. "I cannot think with all of this caterwauling. So he tried to kill the King, so they are going to kill him, what do you expect?"

"But he loves you, milady," moaned Ellen.

Susan considered it, "He was a messenger, Ellen. Do you honestly think I could love a messenger? So he loves me, many men love me, what does that matter? I have important problems to solve! I am not here to soothe every broken heart that longs to be with me..."

At that moment, Ellen's husband slid silently into the room, hoping to get permission to go for his supper. Taking in the scene, he stood, unsure of what to say or do.

"Pick her up and get her out of here," snapped the Countess. Rushing to obey, the man clumsily half dragged, half carried his wife from the room.

"He loves you," mimicked Susan with a sneer. "He failed me; that is what is important!"

Slumping into the chair by the window, she looked out at the jubilant crowds. What to do next? What to do next...

***

The crowd in the garden was jubilant as the news was carried from group to group.

"He's all right...they captured the assassin...just a flesh wound..."

Pride in their King and at their own behavior sparked a renewed need to enjoy themselves and soon Stasha's luncheon had become a party once again. Toasts were offered, to the King, to the Queen, to the Prince and Princess, to Lord Ernest and Lady Donna, to Lord Albert and Lady Stasha. All present were calling out toasts and enjoying themselves, each person whose name was toasted greeted with a loud cheer.

Suddenly, the captain of the guard stood and goblet in hand called out, "To Lord Chester, who in the time of crisis, remembered what was most important!"

All those in the garden stood transfixed for a moment and then turned to face Lord Chester, who bowed good graciously to the captain and then, raising his goblet replied, "To the King's King, whose mercy is without end!"

With a loud cheer all present drained their glasses and then en mass, recited the great prayer once again.

### Chapter 13

Alex longed to sit down on one of the chairs that stood on either side of the fireplace in the chamber outside of his bedroom, but Marie was grasping him so urgently and was pressed against him so tightly that he was forced to stand. He could have sat with her on his lap, something he always enjoyed when they were alone together, but he knew that, regrettably, it was not appropriate at this moment.

Also, he had not forgotten the childish arm wrapped tightly about his waist. Little Annalisse was clutching him just as tightly as her mother. Both were crying, Marie into his chest, Annalisse into his hip. Looking to his left, his son had finally released his grip on his shoulder, but he stood, sword drawn, apparently prepared to cut down anyone who came within an arms length of his father. It was time to begin the long road back to normalcy, Alex decided.

"Jonathan," he began softly, "please place your sword back into its sheath."

Jonathan looked at him uncertainly.

"Please," repeated Alex calmly.

Jonathan nodded and placed the sword back in its sheath slowly, but remained hovering closely at his father's side.

"Marie, my love," he said softly, "you've had a shock; I want you to sit down."

"I'm not letting you go," she replied, grasping him even more tightly.

"Darling, I'm not going anywhere, I will be right here beside you. Please, if you sit, I will sit right next to you, we can hold hands, but I want you to sit down. Please, for me and for the children..."

At the mention of the children, Marie glanced at Jonathan and then down at Annalisse, who still was crying into her father's side. Slowly, she lowered herself into one of the chairs, holding Alex' hand with one hand and grasping Annalisse hand with the other. Once in the chair, she pulled her daughter into her lap, never letting go of her husband's hand. Alex slowly lowered himself into the chair beside her, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it tenderly. Turning, he looked to Ernest, Donna and Albert.

"Thank you for intervening, Albert," said Alex quietly. "I have no idea what happened, but if you had not intervened when you did..."

"It was nothing, Alex," replied Albert softly. "Frankly, I must confess that I hesitated. I was as shocked by his actions as I am sure you were, but in a second, instinct just took over. When I saw the blade, I just reacted, as did you."

"Thankfully, you are my teacher. If you had not trained me, I shudder to think of how things might have gone..."

Marie grasped his fingers more tightly, but he did not react.

"I am sorry that this ruined your party..." he began, turning to Ernest and Donna.

"I was just saying to Donna, "You know my brother ALWAYS has to be the center of attention, no matter what," and then the bell started ringing," replied Ernest in a mock, serious tone. "Both of us looked at one another and thought, oh there he goes again..."

The others smiled.

"I am still sorry that your party was ruined," replied Alex. "I wanted for this to be about your happiness and your impending nuptials..."

"If anything had happened to you, sire, there would have been no chance at happiness," replied Donna, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Please don't cry, my love," stated Ernest, taking her into his arms. "If you cry, then I shall cry and I look very ugly when I cry. You and Marie do it beautifully, but I look like a two hundred pound baby who needs to be changed..."

Annalisse giggled slightly and even Jonathan smiled.

"Of course, if you must cry, save it for our wedding day; believe me, no one will blame you for crying then..."

Donna smiled and hugged him tightly. Albert shook his head and then, looking to Alex, cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, sire," he said softly, "but what should we do with...the boy? You know the penalty for attacking the king..."

Alex shook his head.

"We must not be hasty. We need to look into this, Albert," he replied softly. "Aston was one of our most dependable riders. Even today, he seemed ready to take part in the festivities, he seemed normal and then..." Alex shook his head again. "I think that he is ill, Albert. He was ranting, you heard him, he was accusing me of disgracing the woman he loved, of keeping her from him, of ruining their perfect happiness..."

Albert looked to Marie, "I don't understand it. Perhaps...Marie, has he ever spoken to you or sought you out?"

Marie shook her head, "No, Albert, never. I never saw the boy before, not that I know of...I see the couriers, of course, but I never remember him bringing me a message. When he said Alex was keeping him from the woman he loved, he could not have been thinking of me..."

Albert shrugged, the first relaxed gesture that anyone had made in a while.

"I can understand it," Alex stated, looking at his wife tenderly. "Perhaps he had an obsession with you from afar. If he was not speaking of you, my love, than whom could I be keeping him from?"

"He said that you had disgraced the girl," stated Albert, a puzzled expression on his brow. "If it were not Marie, then whom did he believe you disgraced?"

"Daddy wouldn't disgrace anyone," said Annalisse softly. "Daddy is nice to everyone..."

Alex smiled and threw her a kiss, "Thank you, my dear..." Turning to Albert he frowned, "I do not know, Albert. I do not understand it. Perhaps he was planning to marry, had met a girl he loves and thought that he could not leave the service, I don't know..."

"That makes no sense, milord," replied Albert, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "There are many happily married couriers and many who left the service to start families and easily changed professions. I cannot imagine what he meant."

Alex considered the evidence.

"Very well then, when the doctor finishes with him, I want you to question him. He is to be treated as if he is ill until we know otherwise."

"The guards will not be happy, milord," stated Albert. "Their blood is up..."

"Have a word with them," stated Alex pointedly. "I do not want him harmed. Remind them that if this is some sort of plot, his having an accident will not get us to the bottom of the matter."

"No," replied Albert, "but they will suggest other means to obtain the truth..."

"Speak with them, Albert," stated Alex. "No harm comes to him; that is my order."

"I will go now then," replied Albert, turning towards the door. "I will return shortly."

Turning to his brother and Donna, he looked at them thoughtfully, "Perhaps it would be best if you and Donna returned to the party. The guests will have heard some things by now and I think it will not do us any good for the wrong information to get out. Besides, they were probably frightened half to death when the guards swarmed the festivities..."

"We will leave," replied Ernest, his arm firmly around Donnas' waist. "If you need us, just send one of the staff with a message or ring an enormous, terrifying bell and we will come running."

"Very funny," replied Alex with a roll of his eyes, "and thank you."

Ernest crossed to him and kissed him on the forehead and then turned back, grasping Donna by the hand and leaving quickly before anyone could see the tears of relief in his eyes.

"Annalisse and I will leave you as well," stated Jonathan, rising and crossing to Annalisse. "I believe that you and mother need to speak. If you do not mind mother, father, I would rather not return to the party. May I go to my room?"

"I don't want to go to the party either," stated Annalisse softly. "May I go with Jonathan?"

"Certainly," stated Alex softly. "If you do not mind, I will look in on you both later..."

"You'd better," snapped Annalisse before Jonathan could squeeze her hand.

"I will," smiled Alex. "And Jonathan..."

Jonathan looked back at him from the door.

"Thank you," replied Alex.

Jonathan crossed to him and hugged him, followed by Annalisse who hugged and kissed him as well. After a moment, Jonathan once again took her hand and together, they left the room.

Alex rose as Marie flew into his arms and held him tightly, her tears falling softly on his cheek. Her words came out in a jumble, torn and frightened, an intermingled torrent of fear and relief. Alex held her as she released all of the tension and anxiety that she had been holding back, held her as she cried wept and finally, grew still. Guiding her gently to their bed, he sat down beside her, stroking her hair and letting her grow calm.

"My love, it is a frightening truth, perhaps," he stated softly, "but it is a truth; you and I will always be targets for someone. We can only trust in God and prepare as best we can."

"I could not bear it..." she began.

"Yes," he stated softly, "yes you could. You are stronger than you know, my love. You survived your first marriage and protected your children, you came here and embraced a very uncertain future; you are a survivor, Marie. It is part of the reason I love you so..."

"I did not know what the bell meant," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I could not imagine what was going on and then when Parker and the other men began yelling...I was never so frightened in my life. With Robert I was never truly frightened for myself, I worried about the children, I did not care what happened to me, but today..." she looked up at him mournfully. "When I thought something had happened to you, that you were gone, I felt such overwhelming grief and anger and yes, some of it was because my children had lost the father they adore, but most of it was because you had left me, you had gone from ME."

Dissolving into tears once again, Alex, held her, stroking her hair and speaking softly to her.

"I am all right, Marie," he said softly, "I am all right..."

To his surprise, she quickly reached up and kissed him hungrily, needing his affection, his embrace, his touch. Her fingers worked nimbly, carefully removing his bloody shirt while he removed her gown. Freed of their clothing, she pulled him down to her, urging him, caressing him with her entire body. His hands and his lips explored her, caressing her tenderly, lovingly. As he entered her, he saw the tears seep from behind her closed eyelids, watching as pleasure replaced her fear. Her need for him drove him and he climaxed quickly as she continued to climb still higher seeking her own release. Gently, insistently, his body continued to take her to greater heights until she too reached her climax, her cries muffled by the intertwining of their mouths. Slowly, carefully, he rolled to his side and to his surprise she rolled on top of him, the need for his touch, for his closeness still possessing her. She lay on top of him as the emotional and physical toll demanded their due and she soon fell into a deep sleep, her body snuggled tightly against his naked form.

### Chapter 14

The Countess rose and began to pace, there had to be another way to achieve her goal, but how? A thought came to mind and flinging her arm out towards the door, she heard it lock, giving it a satisfied smile. Rushing to the large bed that the room contained, she flung herself down on it, her clothes twisting about her as she stretched out on her back and closed her eyes. She calmed herself and slowly began to recite an incantation, speaking the words carefully and clearly, but in a low voice for fear of being overheard. In a trance, she was vulnerable, but she needed answers and this was the best way to get the information she sought quickly.

All of the objects in the room began to lose their colors, fading as if the twilight were engulfing them, but the light still shone brightly in from the window. As the colors faded throughout the room, the pictures in the Countess' mind grew fuller and clearer. She heard people speaking, people laughing, voices and discussions, arguments and secret words spoken, saw dancing images and places. At first they were all mingled, voices over voices, a confusing river of sight and sound, overwhelming and loud. Slowly and with great effort and concentration, she began slowing the words, listening for specific words, removing voices as she learned who they were and what they had to say. She began to focus in, realizing that his voice, a distinct baritone, went with that face and her voice, lilting and soft, went with that one. She listened for the words spoken between them, watched their expressions, listening and removing other voices, gleaning the conversations that were of interest from those that led nowhere.

Yes, it was time consuming, but she could not rush, she had to be sure. Yes, YES, it was them; definitely them. She heard them now, watched them, just the two of them, speaking with others and speaking to each other and then removing even those voices, listening as they spoke to just one another, speaking as friends and as parents and then as lovers speak. She heard them, talking about their pains, of their hopes and fears...yes, their fears; she needed to know their fears. Suddenly she heard it, heard what she needed to know...yes, yes that would be the link; THAT would be how she would conquer them.

Slowly, her mind lifted from the trance, the colors in the room beginning to meld back into her surroundings until everything in the room once more took on its normal hue. Rising, the Countess could not contain her smile. Yes, yes she knew what she needed to do now. It would be so simple, so very easy...

***

As night slowly began to gather, Alex appeared in Jonathan's room dressed in a large, loose robe of worn, dark red. As he entered, his son, sitting on the edge of his bed, looked up at him, a book in his hand. Annalisse was curled up beside her brother asleep, her blonde curls framing her peaceful face. Sitting down next to Jonathan, Alex looked quickly at the book and smiled.

"I had that book when I was a boy," he remarked. "All about swordsmanship, it's a wonderful manual."

"It has your name in it, father," replied Jonathan softly, flipping the book to the front cover and pointing to the signature it held.

Alex' smile broadened, "It will teach you quite a bit."

"It has already," stated Jonathan with a nod. Looking past him he asked softly, "Were you able to calm mother?"

"Yes," he replied. "She's resting now, the shock of the thing..." he let the thought go unuttered.

"It was a terrible shock to all of us," stated Jonathan. "It has brought quite a few things to mind..."

"For all of us," replied Alex, not sure of what his son was implying.

"Father, what if something happens to you?" he asked. Looking up at Alex, he spoke sincerely and candidly. "People listen to you father, people obey you, but today, when you were not there... today..." Jonathan took a deep breath. "Today, for the first time, we all faced a moment when we thought that you were not going to be there..."

"But I am here," replied Alex.

"But you might not have been," replied Jonathan reasonably. "For a frightening few moments, you were not in the world and the world...well the world fell to pieces." Jonathan looked down, his features serious, intense. "Men yelling, women screaming and crying, people running about, even the guards unsure of who to listen too...everyone looking for someone to give them answers. Uncle Ernest gave some and Parker gave some, but there was no one there to give them all of the answers, to make the final decision and it showed. The guards were even unsure of who was in charge, of whom they should listen too..."

Turning to Alex, he clenched his jaw firmly.

"I don't want to think of it and no one else does, but I have to think of it now," he stated calmly. "What is going to happen if something happens to you?"

"Jonathan, that will not happen..."

"It might," interrupted Jonathan. "We all saw that today, father, all of us. It scared mother and Annalisse and I half to death, but I can't walk away from it because it is frightening. What is going to happen if something happens to you?"

Alex looked down at his hands, "Jonathan, I have left instructions..."

"And they are?" asked Jonathan. "Forgive me, father, I mean no disrespect to you, you know I would never be disrespectful to you, you know that I love you, I hope you know that..." he added thoughtfully, glancing at Alex sideways, "but I need to know...please..."

Alex put his arm around him and drew him closer.

"If anything were to happen to me, Jonathan," began Alex softly, arguing with himself as to whether he should say it or not. "If anything happened to me, Jonathan, you will become King."

Jonathan nodded, the idea seeping into his mind, the ramifications touching him in ways that Alex alone could understand.

"So I will be like you...the anchor," he said softly.

"You...you will be the anchor, Jonathan," said Alex. "I did not want to burden you with this, not now, but I will not lie to you. You are my son and my heir and you will inherit the throne."

After a time, Jonathan looked up at him, "What of Uncle Ernest? Does he know? Will he..."

"Uncle Ernest knows, as does Albert and your mother, and they will all support you, but no one else knows, not yet," replied Alex. "I had wanted you not to have to worry about these things for many years, not to think about them for a long time. Uncle Ernest will be proud to serve you as will Albert and your mother and sister. You will not be alone, Jonathan, I would not leave you alone..."

Jonathan shook his head, "There are no guarantees father, no guarantees that anything that has been planned will happen..."

Alex nodded at the wisdom of the statement, "I understand, Jonathan. If anyone does, I do. My father died when I was not ready, but I do not think that we are ever ready no matter when the time comes. What happened today was...unexpected, but you cannot live your life waiting for the unexpected to happen. The best you can do is plan and prepare as well as possible and live your life every day."

Jonathan nodded and the two sat for some time in silence.

"It was not easy for you, was it?" asked Jonathan suddenly. "You did not want to become king, did you?"

Alex shrugged, "No, I did not. Still, there are some wonderful advantages to being king, Jonathan. I hope that I have stopped some wrongs, have made things better for people...it isn't all difficult decisions and fighting, you know. If I were a tailor or a boot maker, my life would have been very different, perhaps easier, perhaps not... The only thing I know for sure is that I would have never met your mother, or you, or Annalisse if I were a farmer or a sailor. I'm sure by now that my brother Ernest would have been arrested..."

Jonathan laughed despite himself.

"There are many good things about becoming a king, but in a sense, I am glad it frightens you and you feel the burden of it, because it shows that you understand how important a job it is. I know you want to do what is right, Jonathan, and that tells me that I have picked wisely. I will let you in on a little secret," he said, dropping his voice confidentially. "I do NOT always choose wisely." He gave him another shrug. "I am not always right and I do not always make good decisions, but all any of us can do is to do our best. You saw people panic today, but even if things had not...turned out as they had, the panic is temporary. There are always those with level heads, like Albert, who are there to help in times of panic and then when you understand the situation, you find out that it is a lot like most situations; you make the best decisions you can and hope for the best."

"What if I am a bad king?" asked Jonathan thoughtfully. "Uncle Jeftus was a bad king and..." he stopped, unsure of how to phrase it. "And my...other father... he was a bad man..."

Alex nodded, "That is true, Jonathan, but you are not your uncle and you are not your father, either one of them." Jonathan looked up at him, uncertainty in his eyes. "You will not make the decisions I make, nor should you. I am sure you will change some things that I do or even do away with them completely. You will not be a bad king, Jonathan, because you are a good person. You might be a lazy king, which I doubt, or a careless king, which I could not fathom, or even an unorganized king, which is highly unlikely, but you are not a bad person, you are a good person and you think good thoughts and want to do good. Is that enough? No, there are considerations and reasons and circumstances...there is a lot, but if you start with a good heart and good intentions, you'll find that most of the time, things work out for the best."

"Does it get easier?" asked Jonathan.

Alex nodded and pulled him closer, "For me, it got a lot easier when you and your mother and little Annalisse came along. I know you might not think it now, but one day, you will find someone you will love and their love will make you a better king in a thousand ways you did not suspect. For now, however, I beg you; please do not worry about it. What happened today was a misfortune, it is over and done with; life continues and you have a long, long time before you have to think about making "Kingly" decisions. Do you understand?"

To his surprise, Jonathan leaned into him and hugged him tightly.

"You will take care of yourself, won't you?" he asked softly.

Kissing him on top of the head, Alex smiled, "I have three very good reasons to be extra special careful. I promise you, I will do my best to see that you become a king when you are a very, very old man."

Jonathan smiled, "I would like that..."

"So would I," chuckled Alex.

Standing, he scooped up Annalisse.

"I will take your sister to her room, try and get some rest; it has been a trying day." Walking to the door with his precious bundle in his arms, Alex stopped as he opened the door, "And remember, I am very proud of you and I love you very much."

Jonathan smiled as his father left the room, closing the door softly behind him. For a moment more, he sat on his bed and then, with an air of resignation, rose and started to undress for bed.

***

Deep in the bowels of Wharton castle, Albert sat on a wooden chair outside of the iron cell doors of one of the dungeons, looking at Aston sitting defiantly opposite him on a chair in his cell. Albert squinted down at the notes he had taken and shook his head. The sequence of events that Aston alluded to made no sense, so he with a sigh, he decided to recheck.

"Aston," he said quietly. "I want to read back to you what I have taken down and I want you to correct me if what I say is incorrect in any way, do you understand?"

Aston nodded, his eyes harboring a fanatical gleam that was made dark and suspicious in the candle light.

"I do not care who knows the truth," he said with a harsh voice. "Go ahead and let those who hate the truth be damned!"

Albert nodded, beginning immediately so as not to give Aston the opportunity to begin ranting once again.

"This woman, the Countess you speak of... you met her here, at Wharton castle. The first time you saw her, she was walking in the garden and her beauty attracted you..."

"Her beauty rivals the very angels," exhaled Aston. "I would die a thousand times for her..."

"Now, you fell in love with her immediately as she walked in the garden, but could not summon the courage to speak to her," continued Albert. "Then, as you sat on a bench behind a hedge watching her, you saw the King approach, is that correct?"

"Yes," stated Aston emphatically. "Yes, it is true!"

"You say that the King greeted the woman, who responded to him pleasantly and then, suddenly, his majesty attacked her..."

"He tore her gown open, ripping her stays wide and attacked her breasts with his foul mouth," raged Aston. "He forced her to the ground and then forced himself upon her; I saw it, I SAW IT!"

Albert nodded, "You saw it..."

"YES, I SAW IT!" snapped Aston. "I SAW IT ALL!"

His voice echoed against the walls as Albert frowned. He did not want this accusation to be heard by the guards. Some of these men had fought with Alex; their lives had been saved by the King. Their allegiance to the king was total and they did not take lightly to him being accused or abused in any fashion.

"Aston," he replied reasonably. "Where were the guards?"

Aston looked at him as if it were the first time he had noticed him, "What guards?"

"The guards in the garden?" asked Albert. "There are guards at the entrances, are there not? You said she screamed and fought him, did she not?"

"She fought, of course she fought!" snapped Aston. "She was trying to protect her virtue!"

"And she cried out..."

"Her wailing pierced my very soul!"

"Then why did no one respond?" asked Albert.

Aston sneered, "They did not wish to upset the King's playtime, I suppose."

Albert leaned back, "And Aston, why did YOU not intervene?"

Aston blinked, "What?"

"You were there, were you not?" asked Albert. "The King was unarmed and distracted, you loved the woman and she was in danger, why did you do nothing?"

Aston squinted as if examining the idea in a bright sunlight.

"I don't know..."

"You are no coward, Aston," replied Albert. "You are used to danger. You served in the war, why did you not do something? It does not sound like you at all..."

"I don't know!" snapped Aston angrily. "Who can say..."

"If I attacked this woman in your presence, what would you do to me?" asked Albert quickly.

"I would KILL YOU!" snapped Aston, flinging himself against the bars and holding them clenched in his fists.

"But you did NOTHING to the King," replied Albert. "You did not call out, you did not move. A woman you love was being attacked and you did nothing? I don't believe that for a moment, Aston, I don't believe it for an instant. You would have attacked, King or no King, but you did nothing to defend the lady. That is not strange, Aston, that is untrue, it cannot be true."

"But I saw..." started Aston vaguely.

"You saw the King tear her clothes from her body and throw her to the ground," replied Albert, checking his notes. "He ripped her clothes apart, like a beast, "He shredded her clothes"; those were your words, were they not?"

"Yes," said Aston, a hint of doubt in his voice.

"If he destroyed her clothing, how did she get back inside without anyone commenting on the fact that she was naked?" asked Albert. "I know some of our guards do not have the best eyesight in the world and some might even be called lazy, but a beautiful, naked woman entering the castle would cause even the ones with the worst eyesight and the laziest of the bunch to say SOMETHING."

"I don't know..." struggled Aston.

"And again, Aston," stated Albert. "Again, after the attack, I am supposed to believe that you did nothing? You, a brave and helpful man, and a courageous man, you would not feign to assist a woman who had been treated so horribly? I don't believe that Aston anymore than I believe that you would have stood there and allowed it to happen."

"Why did I do nothing?" he asked Albert, confused.

"You just walked away?" asked Albert shaking his head, "I don't believe it, not you Aston, not you." Albert went back to his notes, "Then you say that you met the same countess at an inn and she agreed to marry you."

"Yes," said Aston quietly, his voice sounding distracted as he thought of what Albert had said.

"It was at that time that you decided to kill the King," stated Albert. "You said you had to do this because he was standing in the way of your happiness. This I do not understand; how is he standing in the way of your happiness? If he attacked your bride, I am sure you were no longer going to serve him, am I correct?"

"Of course not," replied Aston.

"And I am just as sure that the young woman would not come HERE, to Wharton, if he had done what you say he had done. Why would she? I am sure that the place would be revolting to her, but you said that the King was standing in the way of you marrying her. She had escaped the King; I would assume she was fleeing the country, so how could he be standing in your way?"

"I have a headache," replied Aston, stumbling back towards his chair and retaking his seat. "I am tired..."

"The King was not in your way, Aston," stated Albert. "It makes no sense and you are a sensible man, you have always displayed common sense. You came back, you said, to revenge yourself upon the King, which would be natural, but what makes no sense is the interval between the attack and your revenge. You said that the King attacked this woman in the springtime, which was at least two months ago, is that correct?"

"Yes," replied Aston doubtfully, holding his head.

"Why did you continue to serve his highness if all that time, you knew what a despicable wretch he was?" asked Albert. "You never spoke of this to anyone else; you just went on doing your job, enjoying your life, meeting with family and friends, acting normally. Also during that time you were alone with the King countless times, delivering messages, taking messages from his very hand to be delivered, but you did nothing, you did not act, why Aston?"

"Let me rest," replied Aston, "you are confusing me..."

"I do not understand..."

"Let me be," replied Aston, leaning forward as if he were going to be sick.

"Are you all right?" asked Albert, his concern growing.

Aston did not hear him, his ears were ringing and he felt nauseous. Looking up, he felt the sweat breaking out upon his body, he felt hot and disoriented. He tried to rise, but the room began to spin and the last thing he could see as the darkness enveloped him was Albert holding onto the bars and calling for the guard.

***

As dusk began to fall and the shadows lengthened, Ernest leaned back on a lounge in the drawing room of his apartment and smiled at his beloved. It had been a long day and the attack on Alex had only heightened the anxiety they both were feeling.

Donna turned to speak to him when suddenly, her eyes seemed to cloud over and her body grew rigid. Ernest was at her side in an instant, unsure if he should speak or not. He had seen Donna go into a trance before and he was sure that was what was happening now, but he remained alertly at her side, watching his beloved carefully.

Donna seemed to be looking intently at something now, staring off into the air, but with a quizzical look. Her eyes did not blink, but her head moved ever so slightly, as if she were following something that stretched across the room. For several minutes she remained lost in this state and then, slowly, her eyes grew bright again. Turning, she realized that Ernest was now at her side.

"Are you all right my love?" asked Ernest.

Donna frowned, "Someone has been listening..."

"Listening?" he asked.

Turning towards the door, he was about to rise when she stopped him with an outstretched hand.

"Not here," she stated softly. "No, someone has been listening to conversations that have been held here, in the castle."

"I don't understand," he confessed.

"Someone was searching for past conversations that have taken place in the castle," explained Donna. "They cast a spell to hear the conversations that have taken place within these walls and then they narrowed it down, couple by couple, room by room until they focused upon a specific couple and their conversations together."

"Is there a wizard here?" asked Ernest.

Donna shook her head, "No, I do not believe so. If I am not mistaken, there is a sorceress, well..." she frowned, not sure how to explain herself. "There is a woman with powers, but she is untrained in their proper use. She does not seem to follow the teachings..."

"Whom did she listen too?" asked Ernest.

"That I cannot say, my love," she responded softly. "I have no proof of wrong doing, it might be mere curiosity, I cannot say, so I am forbidden to discuss it more than I have. I am sorry my love, please do not be upset with me."

"I am not upset my love," replied Ernest. "Still, it is an odd occurrence, is it not?"

"Yes, yes it is," replied Donna.

"Why listen to old conversations?" asked Ernest.

"I cannot be sure, but I do not believe it was for any good reason," she replied.

"Should I speak to Alex about it? Perhaps we should detain her," stated Ernest.

"What charges could you bring against her without revealing my secret?" she asked sweetly.

Ernest frowned, "Oh bother, I had forgotten. I am sorry, my love..."

She smiled at him tenderly, "It is not easy to remember our special circumstances all of the time, is it?"

"I am tired, that is all," he replied quickly. "But what shall we do?"

Donna shook her head, "She did not see me. If she had been trained, she might have spotted me watching her, but as it is, she has no idea that there is anyone here who practices the art. I will watch her, my love. If you need to do anything, I will let you know. She is very powerful, but in other ways, like a child...perhaps a very dangerous child."

"Should I have her watched?" asked Ernest, unsure of how he should proceed.

"No, I am sure she would recognize such an action," replied Donna.

Raising her hand and closing her eyes, she made a circle in the air and mouthed some words, slowly redoing the circle several times before opening her eyes.

"What was that?" asked Ernest.

"She will be unable to listen to anything again," replied Donna. "With your permission, I will place a web about the castle to alert me if there should be any further mischief."

"By all means," stated Ernest. "No one will know about it, will they?"

"They will suspect nothing, my love," replied Donna.

"Very well," answered Ernest. "Do you think I should perhaps speak to Albert about this..."

"I would wait until we have a better idea of her intentions," stated Donna quietly.

Ernest shook his head, "Other couples merely go to the priest and get married. With us, it is one crisis after another. If I knew it would be this difficult, I would have carried you off and married you somewhere else and then had my way with you!"

Donna burst out laughing, "So you'd carry me off, would you?"

Embracing her, he kissed her happily, "I look forward to carrying you off. We will run away from here as soon as we are able, just the two of us!"

She shook her head and kissed him, "I don't know which is more dangerous, staying here with your family or running away alone with you!"

The two laughed but the knowledge of this new situation did little to relieve their growing anxiety.

### Chapter 15

Marie sat on their bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. It was very late and they had been talking since Alex had returned from putting Annalisse to bed.

"I understand why you told him, my love," she stated, looking down at the foot of the bed as she spoke. "I just don't know what to do..."

"There is nothing, my love, to do," he replied softly, slowly shifting onto his side, trying to be careful not to irritate his wounded arm. "I did not want to tell him, but now that he knows, there is no taking it back."

"He must be overwhelmed," she whispered. Turning to face him, her features drawn into a concerned frown, she asked, "When did you realize what it meant?"

Alex shrugged, "It was much different for me. I had been told from the time that I had been born that I was going to be the king some day. It was just something that you did not think about, it was like being told that I had brown hair, it was just something I knew until I was about Jonathan's age, maybe a little younger. I was with my father in court, I forget what the occasion was, it was some sort of celebration and in the middle of it, an urgent message arrived and my father took me with him to answer it. We went to his study and sat down and several men came in and they began talking. To tell you the truth, at first I did not understand what they were talking about but then I realized that they were discussing someone's execution. The person in question had been convicted of treason and they were debating whether to execute him or to imprison him for life. Just as I understood what they were discussing, as I realized that wanted my father to decide if a man should live or die, my father spoke up and said, "Execute him." I was stunned, my father was not a violent or hateful man and here he was, ordering someone killed without so much as blinking an eye."

"When the others left, I asked him about it and he just sort of sighed and said, "When you are king, you will have to make such decisions." Suddenly it occurred to me that I would be responsible for people's lives and deaths. What if I became impatient with someone, what if I called out in a fit of anger that I wanted someone dead? It terrified me that someone might misunderstand me or someone might say that I had given an order when I had not. A large piece of my childhood died that day..."

"What of Jonathan?" asked Marie in a small voice. "He is so sensitive, I am sure that after what happened, he will be thinking about what he would have done if you had died and Aston had been captured. Would he have executed him? Locked him up? Had him tortured? How can a boy his age fathom such responsibilities?" Marie placed her face down upon her knees, her nightgown muffling her words slightly, "Oh Alex, at least you had Ernest to lean upon. Jonathan is always seeking to protect Annalisse; he would never ask her to share his burden. Poor Jonathan..."

"My love, Jonathan is fine," replied Alex, placing his hands gently upon her shoulders. "Yes, I am sure there will be many questions and realizations as time goes on, but he will adjust. He is a brave, bright boy..."

"If only I could have given you a son," she replied, tears in her eyes. "Someone for him to lean upon..."

"My love, why do you torture yourself with these ideas?" asked Alex softly. "Jonathan is our son, he will be king and he will handle the situation like an intelligent, normal man."

Gently pulling her back to him, he wrapped his arms around her and held her as she swiped at her tears.

"You are right," she said softly. "There is no sense in mourning what cannot be."

"We must rejoice in what is," replied Alex, kissing her softly on her temple. "Trust in yourself, my love, and trust in our son. He will be fine, I promise."

Marie eased back, snuggling against his chest. Her mind raced back to her "accident". It had been no accident, her husband Robert had beaten her and thrown her down stone stairs, killing the unborn child she was carrying and making her barren. Damn you, Robert, damn you for murdering our child and for leaving me unable to conceive. Glancing back at Alex, she forced a smile, what a beautiful child they would have made together. The voice in her head grew louder, damn you, Robert...

***

The Countess sat by the window watching the banners floating in the air. It was a beautiful day and the crowds were amazingly well behaved as they watched the procession pour from the cathedral. At last the carriage containing the newlyweds passed down the street, the applause reaching a fevered pitch.

Passing beneath her window, Donna looked up and instantly knew who it was looking down upon them. Nudging her husband, she nodded up towards the window, but Ernest, enraptured by his new bride's beauty did nothing but smile at her and squeeze her tighter with the arm he had wrapped about her.

For her part, the Countess merely smiled down at the pair, completely unaware that Donna possessed even greater powers than she. At the moment, she was reveling in the thought that she was one of the few people to enjoy an unobstructed view of the proceedings without having to share her perch. All of the other windows were filled with people jostling each other to look upon the procession as it passed.

Turning her attention from the newlyweds, she looked down as the members of the court rode past followed by the royal family in an exquisite coach. Behind them rode members of the royal household and she was intrigued by two of the members, a tall, handsome man seated beside a breathtaking young woman with golden blonde hair.

"She could be my sister," smiled the countess, glancing down at her red tresses, "or she could have been when I was blonde. It is amazing that there are two such beautiful women..."

She watched as the procession wound its way back towards the castle through the streets of the village, the crowd following along in the wake of the last horsemen. The people were boisterous, and the feasting had just begun, but for the Countess, the real celebration would begin tomorrow. The bride and groom were to escape tonight to some secret place and then for some, routine would once again take over their lives. Fortunately, Susan now knew what that routine entailed and more importantly, she knew how to meet the one who would gain her all that she could wish for...

***

"We must try as often as possible," cooed Lady Gertrude into her husband's ear as they sat at the banquet table, toasting the bride and groom.

"A more pleasant thought could not enter my mind," he chuckled, snuggling closer to her as he raised his glass towards the newlyweds.

"Think," she whispered, "by this time next year, we may be parents."

"Oh to have a little one, a beautiful little girl who looks just like her mother," he whispered into her ear, nibbling it quickly before anyone noticed.

"Or a little boy," replied Gertrude. "A handsome handful, just like his father..."

"What are you two whispering about?" asked her father, the Count; leaning closer to them as yet another toast was offered.

"Oh, nothing father..." replied Gertrude with a giggle.

"We are talking about making you a grandfather," whispered Parker.

The older man smiled, "Well, don't keep me waiting too long, my boy. I want to have grandchildren while I can still teach them to misbehave."

The three giggled quietly as they raised their glasses to the bride and groom.

### Chapter 16

"Well, Doctor Navdar, how is he today?" asked Alex.

"He is getting worse, your highness," replied the doctor, a thin, bald man in his mid sixties. His drawn features and quiet voice gave him a serious manner no matter what was being discussed, but when the subject was a dire one, the news seemed to take on an even greater urgency when delivered by Doctor Navdar.

"Can nothing be done?" asked Alex.

"He is unable to eat and barely able to drink, your highness," replied the doctor. "His temperature is quite high, but holding steady, but his mind, your majesty..."

"Yes?"

"It is as if he cannot create a cohesive thought, sire," replied Navdar, a hint of frustration entering his tone. "It is as if his mind is at war with itself. He speaks with a furious belief one moment and then contradicts himself the next. The medicines I have given him help to calm him, but the struggle is what is killing him, sire. I am sorry, but I have no answers for him or for you..."

Alex nodded, "I understand doctor and I know that you are doing your best. Please, if you can do nothing else, please, do the best you can to make him comfortable. I do not understand what has happened to him..."

"Perhaps it is some sort of ailment that he obtained in his journeys, sire, but I have never seen the like of it before," replied Navdar. "I will do my best, but if nothing changes, I fear that he does not have much time."

Alex nodded as the doctor bowed and moved noiselessly out of the room. Turning to Marie, he shrugged and retook his seat by the fire.

"I do not understand it," she said softly. "I suppose I should hate the man for what he tried to do, but when I hear about how sick he is..."

"I know you have gone to see him, my love," stated Alex quietly.

Marie looked up quickly, the slight panic in her eyes confirming his assumption.

"I know why you went to see him as well," he stated, offering her a slight smile. "You cannot bear anyone to suffer and you have heard about his suffering."

Marie looked down at the floor, "You know that I love you, Alex, with all my heart..."

"I have no doubts about that Marie," he chuckled. "Your caring heart is one of the things I love most about you."

"You are not angry with me?" she asked with a small smile.

"Of course not," he replied, sensing there was more.

"My love," she ventured. "If he is in mortal distress and he is very evidently ill..."

"Yes?"

She looked up at him, "Oh, Alex, the thought of him dying in that dark, dank cell..."

He saw the sincerity of her words in the sadness of her beautiful eyes, "I understand. He is, after all, harmless now and it would be easier for the doctor..."

"There is a room on the first floor that is used for storage," stated Marie softly. "We used it for a recovery room during the war..."

"You would make a place for him there?" asked Alex.

"He would be guarded my love," replied Marie. "We would take every precaution..."

"And you would visit him yourself..."

Marie nodded, "We are told to forgive, Alex and I am having a very hard time doing that..."

Alex was surprised at her words.

"I try not to hate him, I do my best, but I fear..." she shrugged. "Perhaps in tending to him I could forgive him..."

Alex rose and swept her up in his arms, surprising her into laughter. Kissing her, he pulled back and stared into her face, lost in her beauty.

"How fortunate I am that you are my wife," he whispered, kissing her again.

Placing her arms around his neck, she stared into his eyes, "There is much work to be done, you really should put me down."

He shook his head slowly, drawing a smile from her, "Work can wait, for once, I cannot..."

***

Brogdan looked down at the boys and shook his head slowly, "I don't know what you lads are about, but whatever you are trying to do, that is NOT the way to do it."

Wilton looked up, his eyebrows lowered in thought, "We are practicing our fencing."

"Is THAT what it is called," laughed Brogdan. "Well, don't let Lord Albert catch you doing it like that or he'll have a few choice words for you!"

"What are we doing wrong?" asked Randy.

"You're feet are all wrong for a start," replied Brogdan, gesturing at Randy's legs. "Left foot first, not right foot."

"What if you are left handed?" asked Jonathan.

"Are you left-handed, your highness?" asked Brogdan with a smile.

"No," replied Jonathan softly. "Still, it's a real question..."

"Learn how to do things the proper way first and then worry about those who don't," replied Brogdan with a laugh."You build a building starting with the foundation. Start with your footwork and then work your way up."

The boys nodded.

"We are out of practice time anyway," stated Wilton, glancing at Jonathan and then at Randy.

Randy nodded. They both had noticed that something was bothering Jonathan, he had been much quieter these last few days, lost in his thoughts. Try as they might, they could not get him to speak about much of anything. Randy brightened up, a glint of thought in his eye.

"Did you enjoy your uncle's wedding, Jonathan?" he asked.

"I am very happy for Uncle Ernest," he replied absently. "Aunt Donna is very nice..."

"I saw that you danced with Ellen at the wedding," smiled Randy.

Jonathan looked up and blinked, "Yes, she was my dance partner several times."

"By the dragon's tail, where was I when you danced with her?" asked Wilton. "I did not see that!"

"You were attending the king at the time," replied Randy. "I, on the other hand, was allowed to go and get something to eat and I saw it all." Turning back to Jonathan, he smiled, "Did you speak with her?"

"A little," replied Jonathan sheepishly. "She was very polite. Everyone is polite to me at things like that; they act as though if I did not like them, I could speak to my father and have them beheaded."

The other two laughed, but Jonathan looked even more serious than before.

"She has a very pretty head, but I don't think I would like it unattached from the rest of her," replied Wilton with a glance at Randy.

"Was she a good dancer?" asked Randy, unsure of how to proceed.

"Yes," replied Jonathan. "I guess so. I'm not a very good dancer myself..."

"You are the best of the three of us," stated Wilton. "Of course, that is not much of a compliment..."

This time, Jonathan smiled slightly, bringing a feeling of relief to his two companions.

"Did you see Lady Gertrude?" asked Randy suddenly.

"I got caught staring at her," replied Wilton with pride. "Lord Parker caught me and frowned and then laughed. He was not angry at me for staring, though after that I tried not to do so. She is so beautiful..."

"I thought the Sultan of Chanra's daughter was very pretty," said Jonathan quietly.

"Was that his daughter?" asked Randy, a slight confusion spreading across his features. "I thought the man was his son and that was his wife."

"No, it was his son and daughter," corrected Wilton. "I had to announce them to Lord Albert when they arrived. He had about a thousand titles and by the time I got through them all, I think everyone was sound asleep."

"She is not even a princess," stated Jonathan, a remark the other two found odd. "She is his daughter, but she has no title. In Chanra they don't believe in giving the women titles. The Sultan says that it makes them proud and there is nothing worse than a proud woman."

"From what I've been told, the Sultan is a crazy person," whispered Wilton. "He kicks everyone, his ministers, his guards, even his family. I would NOT want to be his squire, I can tell you that much. I heard that he even kicks his wives!"

"Wife," corrected Randy.

"Wives," corrected Jonathan. "He has many wives..."

"Many? How many?" asked Randy.

"Oh, about twenty I think," replied Jonathan. "That was what was so special about the son who came to the wedding. He was the first son of the first wife. He will be the next Sultan."

"By the dragon's tail, how does he keep track of twenty wives?" asked Randy. "My father NEVER knows where my mother is or what she is doing..."

"It's a very different type of life in Chanra," replied Wilton. "I have heard stories..."

Jonathan was happy that Wilton had found a subject to keep them both occupied for a time. How he wished he had been the second son of the second wife in Chanra. What were a few kicks once in a while compared to having to making life and death decisions, especially when you could be wrong?

"What do you think, Jonathan?" asked Randy.

"I don't know," replied Jonathan, having no idea of what the question had been. "I don't know at all..."

***

Ernest popped another grape into his mouth and smiled happily at his bride. Donna was all he could ever want and hope for in a wife. While the wedding ceremony and receptions had been wonderful, both of them had longed to leave and be alone. Thankfully, Alex and Marie had understood their desires perfectly.

At the time of his visit, Ernest could not imagine why Alex had taken such an interest in King Jeftus' hunting lodge. While there had been hints of what the place must have looked like when he had visited weeks before, Ernest had merely handed in his report and forgotten all about it, too excited at seeing Donna again to give the matter another thought. Alex, however, had spared no expense in bringing the lodge, a small castle really, back to its former glory and it was there that he and Marie had sent Ernest and Donna to enjoy their honeymoon. It was an ideal location, beautiful in itself, the local area filled with natural wonders and far from crowds, onlookers and social climbers.

Donna shared Ernest's love of horses and was an excellent horsewoman. Today, the two of them had gone out into the fields to enjoy a picnic. Finding an enormous old tree on the top of a low hill, they had spread out their luncheon and were reclining together, talking occasionally, but mostly just enjoying the view and the contentment that comes from being near the one you love.

Donna sat, her face towards the sun, the gentle breeze blowing her long, black hair, her eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her face. Turning towards him, she caught Ernest examining her and laughed.

"I am so happy," she cooed.

"I am too," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it. "Thank you for being my wife."

"Thank you for asking," she replied. "I must confess, my love, that I had my reservations. I had never even considered the possibility of being married, never mind to anyone like you."

"Many women have told me that," replied Ernest. "How often I have heard them say, "If I were to marry, it would never be to anyone like you, I wouldn't even consider it...""

"That's not what I said and you know it," she giggled. "I mean someone so kind and fun and full of life. My father was so dour; I thought that you had to be unhappy to be married."

Ernest drew nearer, Donna rarely spoke of her family and when she did, it was usually about her mother. He could not recall her ever having mentioned her father before.

"Why was he so unhappy?" he asked.

"I suppose he wanted a normal wife and normal children," she said with a shrug, leaning back to smile once again at the sun.

"Did he not know that your mother was a sorceress when they wed?" asked Ernest.

"Yes, he knew," she sighed, "but he did not know that the powers could be transferred to his children. When my brother was born, he did not possess any powers, so my father believed that none of his children would acquire the gift."

"You have a brother?" asked Ernest, surprised. "Why did we not invite him to the wedding?"

"My brother died just after I was born," replied Donna. "I am the only one of my parent's children to survive into adulthood. I suppose that added to his unhappiness..."

"I am sorry, my love," replied Ernest. "I had no idea..."

She offered him a sad smile, "Of course you had no idea; I did not tell you. Mine was not a happy childhood but..." she shrugged and smiled at him, "if it was what I had to go through to meet you, my dear, than it was all worth it."

Ernest leaned over and kissed her.

"I want to fill you with so many happy memories that it pushes all of your sad ones away," he laughed. "Come, let us go exploring. I hear that there is a magical lake beyond that hill."

"Magical?" she asked.

"Magical," he stated with a certitude. "They say that if you are a beautiful raven haired woman and you skinny dip in the lake, a stout man will ravish you for hours afterwards!"

Donna laughed, "Hours?"

Ernest shrugged, "They might have said that he is so inept that it seems like it takes hours, I'm not sure. Come, let us find out!"

Rising, he grasped her hand and together, they ran towards the hill seeking the magic lake.

### Chapter 17

Brogdan walked silently beside the Queen, holding her basket dressed as a blacksmith, a costume that more closely fit his natural attributes. To him, her majesty seemed more distracted than normal, but he concluded that the recent wedding and celebrations had tired her; that and the attempt on the king's life had seemed to dampen her spirits, which was understandable.

In the guardrooms he had noted a new seriousness, men being extra careful in the fulfillment of their duties, everyone just a little more alert. King Alex was very much loved by his men and the idea that he been attacked on their watch was disturbing.

Arriving at the old woman's house, Marie took the basket from Brogdan and glanced back at the people walking through the streets.

"Perhaps you should wait outside today," she ventured.

"As you command, milady," he said softly.

Marie knocked loudly and then entered the home. All was as it always was, the rooms light and cheery, the fire burning brightly, everything in its place except the old woman. Normally, the old woman sat here in the main room, waiting for her, but today, she was not there. In her stead sat a cloaked and hooded figure, its back towards the door.

"Excuse me..." began Marie.

"Excuse me, your majesty," replied a soft, sultry voice.

As the figure rose and turned, Marie was surprised to be confronted by a beautiful woman. Pulling back her hood, she stared at Marie as her flaming red hair, released by the hood's removal, cascaded down her shoulders. The woman smiled and held up a hand.

"Do not be alarmed, your majesty. Your friend is asleep in the other room..."

"How do you know who..."

The woman curtsied, "Everyone knows, highness, who the kind woman who serves the poorest is; you are much beloved for your kindness and generosity."

Marie looked at the woman, unsure of how to proceed.

"You are always giving," replied the woman softly, rising slowly from her curtsey, "but I have no need of your assistance, your highness. In fact, I come with a gift to offer you, a service that I would be pleased to share with you, an answer, if you will, to a prayer."

"What do you mean?" asked Marie. "Who are you?"

"My name is Susan," replied the Countess. "I have heard of your problem and have come to help you."

"My problem?" asked Marie. "What problem?"

"I hesitate, my Queen, to speak of so delicate a matter," replied the woman, drawing gently closer. "But in order to assist you, I must. I beg your sincere forgiveness."

Marie watched her, unsure if she should call for Brogdan or not.

"Your highness has many worries," continued the woman, "and now your poor son..."

Marie took a step forward, "What about my son?"

"I am sorry, your highness," replied the woman, shrinking back a step. "I meant no disrespect, certainly. I merely understand a mother's concern when her son has been forced to accept a heavy burden which she longs only to lighten."

"What do you know of my son?" snapped Marie, eyes flashing in anger. "Out with it now!"

"Forgive me, your highness," replied the woman, taking another step backwards. "I know that the subject is both private and sensitive. If I may be so bold as to be plain. You wish to provide your son with someone to assist him in his trials, to stand by him, a brother for a king..."

Marie's eyes softened slightly, "How...how do you know these things?"

The woman stepped slightly closer, "I am a sorceress, your majesty and I have heard your cries, I have felt your anguish, a mother's anguish..."

Circling to Marie's side, the woman spoke in a more confidential tone, "Oh, to be able to have a child, just one more child, a child with your beloved King, the love of your soul..." Marie turned, tears in her eyes as the woman continued to circle her, "That would solve so many problems, that would silence the mouths of fools, a gift for your husband and your son, the mother of a true heir..."

"It is not possible," whispered Marie, her hands drawn to her waist as if shielding the barrenness that was there.

"All things are possible, your highness," stated the woman as she continued to circle slowly. "All things are possible, for a price."

"It is NOT possible," replied Marie, the tears falling now. "I can have no more children."

"What if you could?" asked the woman, her eyebrow arched, her smile seductive. "What if you could have one more child, your child, the King's child..."

"How?" asked Marie, angry at herself for even asking.

"Do you love your husband?" she cooed, tightening the circle as she walked about her. "Do you trust him?"

"With my life," replied Marie fervently.

"Then it is simple, your highness, simplicity itself..." continued the woman, her breath tickling Marie's ear as she spoke. "On the night of the full moon, I will lead you to a chamber where you will spend the night alone, but not alone. You will see all, you will feel all for we will be one, I will be you and you will be me. I will go to the King as you, he will never suspect for he will see only you, know only you. He will never know that the wife who lies beside him is not and yet is his wife. He will think he is touching you, caressing you, loving you and you will feel it all, taste it all, revel in it all and in the morning, you will be with child, HIS child."

"How is it possible?" whispered Marie.

"For a price, oh great Queen, everything is possible," smiled the woman, her hand upon the small of Marie's back, her words caressing her ear.

"What price?" asked Marie, uncertainty gaining a place in her voice.

"Give me your permission to visit with his majesty a year after your child is born," replied Susan. "Allow me to speak to him at that time and you can grant me or deny me what I request. Allow me that privilege and what I have offered, a son, yours and the King's son, a companion for your son, a child for your husband, the fulfillment of your deepest desires, the silencing of the hating nobles, ALL of this will be yours..."

Marie stared into her eyes as the woman who stood before her, mere inches from her face. Slowly the woman's smile descended into a smirk.

"I will await your summons, milady," she cooed softly, "but be quick. The full moon rises soon, very soon..."

"How can I call..."

"Send your blacksmith to me here, I will know he is coming and will be waiting, you need say nothing, just have him bring me a single white rose," the woman whispered. "I will know your desire and I will fly to you." Placing her finger on Marie's lips, she closed her eyes, "I will be ready, my Queen, I will be waiting." Removing her finger, she ever so gently kissed Marie on the lips and then...vanished.

Marie stood silently for a moment and then gasped for air, suddenly aware that she had forgotten to breathe. Wheeling quickly, she looked about the room, but the woman was gone. Slowly, she realized that someone was shuffling in from the doorway at the back of the house. Looking up she saw the old woman, staring at her with questioning eyes.

"Are you all right, milady?" asked the old woman. "You seem frightened..."

Marie forced a smile, "I am fine...everything is fine..."

***

"I don't like it," stated Annalisse, hands on her hips. "I don't like it at all..."

Stasha leaned over and looked at the needlework the little girl had been working on, "Oh, honey, it's not that bad. You just need to redo that line of red thread and it will be perfect."

"Are you sure?" asked Annalisse, suddenly hopeful.

"Yes, I'm sure," replied Stasha with a gentle chuckle.

The two smiled at one another and Annalisse retook her seat and began to remove the offending thread. Stasha looked about the garden, with the wedding over, this had been the first quiet time she had enjoyed in a long time. The day was slightly overcast and the sky a mild gray and a cool breeze fluttered through the treetops, rustling the leaves gently and rhythmically. Stasha would have to leave this quiet place soon, there were still many things to do, but for now, the world was peaceful and relaxed.

Turning to Annalisse, who was working diligently, she gave her a slightly puzzled frown. Annalisse was a wonderful child and usually very chatty, but today she seemed quiet and to be concentrating with an intensity that Stasha found unusual.

"Annalisse, my dear, what is so important about this piece?" she asked, spying over the little girl's shoulder at her progress.

"I am making this for Jonathan," replied Annalisse. "He has been worried lately and I am hoping it will distract him."

"Jonathan is unhappy?" asked Stasha. "Why?"

"He won't say," replied Annalisse. "Lately, he's just always thinking. I keep telling him; too much thinking will make your hair turn gray. Albert is always thinking and his hair is gray and Stasha is always thinking and her hair is gray..."

"Your father is always thinking, why isn't his hair gray?" smiled Stasha.

"Oh, that's easy," replied Annalisse, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Daddy says that he doesn't have any gray hair because Uncle Ernest causes him to pull it out..."

Stasha shook her head, "Well, as long as there is an explanation..."

She leaned back in her chair, another half hour or so and they would have to go inside. She made a mental note to speak to Albert and ask him, what was troubling Jonathan?

***

Ernest leaned back against the pillows in the large chamber that was their bedroom and smiled. He had never suspected that making love could be so passionate, so complete as it was with Donna. A smile curled his lips as he began to gently drift off to sleep; Donna sprawled contently across his chest. Suddenly, he felt her jerk away and then grasp him and begin to shake him.

"Ernest, get up, wake up!"

Ernest's eyes flew open, "What is the matter, my love?"

"We must leave," replied Donna, her eyes wild.

"Leave?" asked Ernest, watching her beautiful form as she rose from the bed and snatched up her robe.

"We have not a moment to lose," she replied. "The Queen is going to make a horrible mistake..."

"Mistake?" asked Ernest, feeling suddenly as if he were the slow child in a classroom. "Wait a minute, what are you talking about?"

"The woman, the woman who LISTENED..." hissed Donna, trying to keep her voice quiet.

Ernest sat up, "Yes, what about her?"

"She has made Marie an offer, a most dangerous offer," replied Donna.

"We could send a messenger..." began Ernest.

Donna stopped him with an upraised hand, "We cannot reveal what we know. This is a delicate matter, not something that can be transmitted by a messenger."

Ernest forced himself from the bed and wrapped himself in his own robe.

"I will summon the carriage..."

"Summon two horses," interrupted Donna. "It will be faster and every moment counts. We must get to her quickly; she does not realize the danger..."

"What IS the danger?" asked Ernest.

Looking at him a moment, she stopped and then crossing to him, kissed him, "I cannot tell you, my love, but trust me, we must get to her quickly."

"I trust you, of course," he replied, searching for something to wear. Suddenly an idea struck him.

"Perhaps they can help us?" he ventured as he pulled on a pair of pants.

"How?" asked Donna, searching for something to wear.

"Perhaps I can request them to meet us somewhere along the route," he replied. "I'll make up an excuse as to why we are returning and ask them to join us, this way we will meet in the middle and in less time."

Donna grabbed his face and kissed him fiercely.

"Brilliant, my love, brilliant!"

Ernest smiled and speaking in his most seductive voice, glanced at the bed again saying, "Are you sure we must leave right now..."

"Get your clothes on, get the horses and send the message," she replied, shaking her head. "We have plenty of time for that later."

"No time like the present," offered Ernest, prepared to release the pair of shoes he had found. She wheeled on him, eyes narrowing. Recoiling from her glare, he began to put the shoes on; yes this husband thing was certainly not for amateurs...

### Chapter 18

Marie lay in bed, listening to Alex rumbling next to her, sleeping deeply. He seldom seemed to have a troubled night and yet he carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders. Looking down at him, she smiled sadly. How handsome and young and wonderful he is, how lucky I am that he loves me.

Her mind could not stop thinking about the mysterious woman's proposition. Could it really happen? Was there a way that she could again have a child? To have Alex' child, THEIR child...

She looked down at Alex, trying to imagine him as a little boy. She imagined a serious little fellow, dutifully listening to his father and occasionally getting into trouble because of his younger brother. He must have been a handsome little fellow, with glowing eyes and straight brown hair...The thought made her smile.

She thought of Jonathan and Annalisse when they were babies. Whatever her flaws, she had beautiful children and that was not just a mother's pride speaking. So chubby and sweet, such puffy little hands and feet and shinning, curious eyes, from the time they were babies they were irresistible. Even her father had remarked on how handsome her children were and her father was not a man known for his compliments.

She and Alex would make a beautiful little baby. She had never gotten to enjoy her pregnancies, but she had been most fortunate, she had never been sick or swollen. She remembered being tired on occasion, but her friends used to tell her that she had a glow about her when she was pregnant. To give another person life, such a precious gift...Could the woman really make that gift possible? What if it was true? She sighed at the thought, reveling in the idea of being the wife that her beloved deserved, of being able to...

But what if it was a lie? What if the woman was only seeking to sleep with her husband, to entice him and bewitch him and to have his child? What would Alex say if he knew that she had made him an adulterer? How could she ever explain to him that what she had done, she had done out of love? She had taken the chance in order to help Jonathan and to help him, to make his life easier, to silence the noble tongues that troubled him...

He would never trust her again, how could he? If she made him sleep with another, no matter the reason, no matter how good the cause, he would hate her. But what if he would never know? What if what the woman said was true? Could it be possible? Staring down at Alex, she shook her head, was it worth risking? Could it possibly be worth the risk?

***

In the village inn, Susan lay back on her pillows, smiling to herself. She had very little need for sleep normally and tonight, she felt no need what so ever to trouble herself with it. Yes, the Queen would come to her, would seek her out and beg for her help. She smiled, and she would do ALL that she had promised and more! Chuckling to herself, she imagined the King caressing her, touching her; it was a pleasant thought indeed. What of the Queen, she laughed. The Queen would have the fulfillment of her dreams, she would have a child, a fine, strapping young boy and that child would make Susan Queen.

She laughed to herself, the problem with her other plans had been there dependence on others. In addition, she admonished herself for thinking in the short term. No, what had been needed was a long range plan, something more substantial, grander in scope. Now that she had thought of the long term possibilities she could see her plan coming to fruition. She would be the most powerful woman in the kingdom, not just a noble, but THE noble. She laughed at the idea of seeking out associates, servants and accomplices; her power would be total, absolute. People would be bending over backwards to serve her, just to be noticed by her. She would not waste her time as Marie did, playing nursemaid to invalids. She would be a true monarch!

She chuckled again, she would bed the King and the King would make her Queen without even knowing he had been an accomplice to the fact. Best of all, the Queen would have made it all possible, would actually have begged for it to happen.

Next door to her room, Ellen lay awake next to her husband, shivering in the dark night as she heard her mistress' icy laughter. Ellen wanted to run away, to flee from the Countess and hide, but something in her would not let her go, would not even let her question. Glancing at her husband, she drew closer to him and closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would stop her nightmares...

***

"Death would be a blessing," stated Wilton seriously.

"There are worse things, I suppose," replied Jonathan.

"Name one," replied Wilton. "Why do we have to learn more about dancing? What is the point of getting good at dancing? And why could the Lord Albert not get us a different partner?"

"Do you think someone like Lady Gertrude would allow you to stomp all over her feet for practice?" asked Randy. "No, we have to start somewhere..."

"But Leather?" asked Wilton. "Why did he have to ask Leather to be our partner? Why could he not ask Ellen or that other girl, Beatrice? At least Beatrice knows how to spit..."

"There are probably not many girls who would even consider the proposition," replied Jonathan. "And a girl who can spit as well as Beatrice probably doesn't know much about dancing."

"I'd rather practice with Annalisse than Leather," replied Wilton.

"I don't want to dance with my sister," replied Jonathan. "Come to think of it, I don't want you two dancing with her either..."

"I don't want to dance with Annalisse," stated Randy. "I want to get good enough to dance with Lady Gertrude. Do you think she would dance with us once we've learned how?"

Wilton shook his head, "If we have to dance with Leather first, it isn't worth it, Lady Gertrude or not. I'd rather dance with Lady Stasha than Leather."

Jonathan smiled, "I have danced with Lady Stasha and one does not dance with her, one holds on..."

"Anyone but Leather," whined Wilton, "and WHY first thing in the morning? Could we not first clean out the stalls? The smell would help to keep her away; it would offer us some protection..."

At that moment, Albert entered the room, Lady Heather walking primly behind him. She was about the same age as the boys, slightly shorter and thin, dressed in a proper blue gown. She had light brown hair parted in the middle and swept back into a braid and she looked at the boys disdainfully through hazel eyes with a face that showed she would brook no nonsense from any of them. Behind her a balladeer entered with an archguitar and took his place by the window.

"Gentlemen," stated Lord Albert, eyeing the boys expectantly.

All three rose and bowed to Lady Heather, who examined them with the air of a dowager who smelled something bad.

"I want to thank Lady Heather for assisting us in our little experiment today," began Albert. "It is important for young gentlemen to learn how to dance properly and Lady Heather is quite an accomplished dancer."

"And she doesn't punch badly either," murmured Wilton to his companions, who worked mightily not to giggle.

"After watching your earlier attempts at the dance," stated Albert, "it is my opinion that Wilton is in most need of our assistance. So Wilton, will you come forward and address the young lady?"

Wilton plodded forward, eyeing Lady Heather with a squint that would have made most wrestlers proud. After a glance at Albert, he bowed and addressed his partner as he had been coached to do.

"Thank you, milady, for allowing me the pleasure of this dance," he stated.

"You are quite welcome," she replied primly, adding in a voice that could cut stone. "And don't step on my shoes!"

With a roll of his eyes, Albert gestured towards the balladeer. The man bent over his instrument and began to improvise a slow, simple melody. Wilton offer his hand and the young lady took it and they turned, facing outward, standing beside each other.

"Together now," began Albert softly. "Left foot forward, right foot forward, turn, bow, join hands, circle...the other way Wilton... that's it. Left foot, right foot, in time to the music...Wilton, in time to the music...Wilton, do you HEAR the music?"

"I am trying my best, milord," Wilton replied.

"If this is the best he can do, I have no hope for him. He is so clumsy, I believe I will be trampled," stated Lady Heather, offering an unsolicited opinion.

Albert closed his eyes. Had learning to dance always been this difficult? Alex had not been graceful, but compared to Wilton he could have danced the ballet. Ernest was a natural born dancer, how easy he had been to train. Jonathan showed promise as did Randy, but Wilton? He was not sure the boy knew which foot was which.

"Wilton, the idea is to make a graceful figure when you are dancing. You must not watch the young lady's feet; it is distracting and bad form."

"If I step on her feet that will be worse form milord," replied Wilton.

"It will also be the last thing that he ever does," snarled Lady Heather.

Albert shook his head and looked at the balladeer, who shrugged. Both wondered if it were not too late to change professions...

### Chapter 19

The darkness was so complete, so total that when he threw the door of the inn open, Ernest was momentarily blinded by the warm glow of the fire in the room's far end. The inn was empty except for a space behind the bar where a large, unhappy looking woman stood drying a glass with unusual vigor. She stopped and frowned at the intrusion.

"Here," she snapped in a deep, manly voice, "what are you about? Don't you know what time it is?"

"Indeed I do," replied Ernest from the doorway, grasping the small bag filled with clothing he held in case he needed a weapon. "I was hoping you had a room to rent, it is too dark to go any further."

"It was too dark to go any further five hours ago," grumped the woman.

Ernest stumbled forward into the room, pushed from behind by his exhausted wife.

"Who's this?" asked the bartender, apparently confused by the profusion of people who had suddenly appeared at her door.

"I am his lordship's wife," stated Donna in a yawning voice. "We want a room."

"His lordship?" asked the bartender, inclined to question the lady's word. "Him? I look more like a Lord than he does..."

"Indeed you do," replied Ernest. "I was thinking when I entered, now there is a striking figure of a man, too bad it is a woman..."

Donna elbowed him and smiled apologetically, "We have been on the road since early morning and he is delirious. Do you have a room then?"

"I do," grumped the woman, "but I'm not charging half a night's fee for half a night. You pay the full fee and it's yours."

"How much is the full fee?" asked Ernest politely.

"Five silvers and not a silver less," replied the woman.

"Sounds like a wonderful bargain," stated Donna. "Could you please take us to the room, I am very tired..."

"Why should I take you to the room? Don't you have feet?" asked the woman. Pointing to a battered staircase that sat against the wall behind the door, she continued, "Go up them stairs, it's the first door on the left and don't make no noise, we got other guests..."

"Fine," smiled Donna. "Will there be food in the morning?"

"If you pay for it," replied the woman. "My husband does breakfast, he's an early bird, so he gets up and does breakfast and lunch and helps with dinner and then I stay up all night and serve any who come by."

"So you rarely see each other," stated Ernest. "A wise arrangement; helps a marriage to last."

"Let's see your money," crabbed the woman, eyeing him suspiciously.

Ernest reached into his shirt and produced a pouch. Opening it, he pulled out the coins and handed them to her. The woman examined them with such intensity he was surprised when she decided not to melt them down and do testing on them. Finally satisfied, she pointed again at the stairs.

Donna was half way up before he had gotten to the bottom step. Following her, Ernest clutched the bag as he made his way to the top of the stairs and then into the room on the left. Striking a match, he found a candle and lit it, the room revealing itself to be clean, if sparsely furnished in the low illumination.

"It looks clean enough," stated Donna softly, hoping not to disturb the other guests.

"Dirt would be too frightened of that woman to stay at this inn," replied Ernest.

"Will we make it to Wharton soon?" she asked, removing her travel cloak and sliding onto the bed, finding it remarkably comfortable.

"We are at least two days away," stated Ernest. "I am hoping that we might meet a messenger returning with my brother's reply. I hope they will meet us, I doubt that our mounts can continue at this pace."

Sitting down next to her, he felt a wave of exhaustion pass through his body. He had had little sleep in the past two days, it was like being on campaign had been during the wars. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he turned and smiled at her, his eyes sleepy.

Donna looked at him, seeing the exhaustion that was there.

"Let us get some rest, my love. We must try to get to them and we will be in no position to do so if we don't get some rest."

"Do you think we can warn them in time?" yawned Ernest.

"We can do our best to try," replied Donna. "If we fail, we must do all that we can to assist them."

Ernest nodded and eased himself onto his back. He would rise in a moment and undress, he told himself. Yes, that is what he would do. Donna rose and began to remove her clothes. In a moment, she had stripped off her clothing and removing her nightgown from the small bag, wiggled into it, feeling the aches in her body from the long day of riding. Turning, she found her husband fast asleep on the bed. With a small smile and a quick kiss, she snuggled in beside him and soon, was fast asleep as well.

***

Marie handed the note back to Alex, her expression one of confusion.

"They want us to come and meet them?" she asked. "Why? I would think they were anxious to be away and alone..."

"He does not really say," replied Alex. "He wants to show us the natural wonders of... Alsarisan. I'm afraid that I am not familiar with the place..."

Marie frowned, "It is a town just over the border in Vesek, near the mountain pass of Ulick. I had been there as a girl, it is very beautiful, but why would he want to cut his honeymoon short to meet us there? I thought they wished to be away from court, especially after the relentless pace of events they endured. I cannot imagine why they would want to come back so soon..."

"Perhaps things are not going well?" asked Alex.

Marie waved him off and then smiled at him, "I know of only two other people more in love..."

"Really, who?" asked Alex with a slight smile.

Moving to him, she kissed him and looked at the ceiling, "I don't remember their names, but they are very happy...what were their names again? Oh yes, Stasha and Albert!"

Alex laughed and swept her up into his arms, kissing her happily. She had seemed so distant these last few days, but today she was more happy and like herself. She had not confided in him what had been troubling her, but he was glad to see that whatever difficulty it had been appeared to have sorted itself out.

"Now put me down," she whispered, kissing him gingerly. "I want you ready for tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?" he asked. "What is so special about tomorrow night?"

Marie smiled mischievously, "Tomorrow night is the full moon, my love and I want to make love to you all night long."

Alex held her tightly to him, "We can do that tonight if you wish..."

"No," she replied sexily. "Tomorrow it will be so much better. Tomorrow, in the light of the moon, we will make love. Anything can happen when you make love in the moonlight."

Alex kissed her, holding her tightly to him. Marie had made her decision.

***

Wilton sat facing the corner, holding his arm where "Leather" had struck him. It was not his fault that his feet refused to listen to music and yet he was the one being punished. All in all, it seemed terribly unfair to him, he had acted like a gentleman and had not even attempted to hit her back when she had struck him for stepping upon her feet. He should be rewarded for his kindness, that was his opinion.

Across the room, Albert sat with his head in his hands. He had wanted to teach them dancing, not boxing, he thought. Perhaps he needed to find a less feisty dance partner, though the way Wilton had stepped on her shoes he could scarcely blame the young lady for defending herself. Perhaps it might be best to try a broom for him until he understood the basics.

Seated beside Albert, happy to be above the fray Randy smiled, happy not to have to dance with "Leather" and well pleased that he would soon be dismissed for the day. One could not get into trouble when one was not allowed to do anything, he reasoned, it was truly the easiest way to stay out of trouble.

"Randy, you and Wilton are dismissed," said Albert softly. The two boys rose, bowed to Albert and then Jonathan and then quietly left the room.

Turning to Jonathan, he began wearily, "Prince Jonathan, I will ask that you keep Lady Heather company until I return with her father."

Ignoring Jonathan's anxious look, Albert rose and headed towards the door.

Jonathan was about to protest the situation, but could think of nothing to say in front of Heather that would not get him into trouble. Instead, he was forced to watch Albert make his way out into the hallway, leaving him alone with Heather, who eyed him disdainfully.

"Your friend, your highness, is an idiot," she finally stated.

"He is not an idiot, he is just clumsy and you need not call me "your highness"," replied Jonathan sullenly.

Heather looked at him as if he had lost his mind, "Of course I must call you "your highness", what else would I call you? Anything else would be a lie!"

Jonathan looked at her to see if she were serious, "No it would not..."

"Of course it would," she replied adamantly. "You are the prince, are you not?"

"Yes, I suppose..."

"And the proper way to address the prince is "Your Highness"; we both know that, don't we?" she replied as if instructing a stubborn child.

"Yes..." he drawled.

"Well then," she stated, "I need to call you your highness, don't I?"

"I just told you that you do not have to call me your highness," he stated.

"Why?" she asked suddenly.

"Why what?" he replied.

"Why should I NOT call you your highness?" she asked suspiciously.

"I don't like it," replied Jonathan.

She looked at him, perplexed, "You don't like it?"

"No," he replied.

"What has that got to do with it?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"What do you mean?" asked Jonathan, unsure if he wanted to continue the discussion but curious as to what she was thinking.

"I don't like the name Heather, but that is my name and it is who I am," she replied primly. "My mother told me that you must say the truth even if you do not like it. Did your mother not tell you that?"

"Yes, my mother told me that?" he replied, annoyed.

"Don't you listen to your mother?" she asked, eyeing him with suspicion.

"Of course I listen to my mother," he replied. "She's the Queen, everyone listens to her!"

Heather took the argument in for a moment, weighing his statement.

"Then you don't believe her..." she ventured.

"Of course I believe her," he stated, shaking his head. "My mother does not lie."

She frowned, "You say you listen to her and she does not lie and then you say, don't call me your highness, which is exactly what she tells you to do." Shaking her head she turned from him, "You boys have odd ways of thinking of things..."

"Look," he began, trying to control his exasperation with her, "I just said that you don't have to call me your highness when we are alone. I prefer to be called by my name, Jonathan, when no one else is about; all of my friends call me Jonathan when we are alone..."

"I am not your friend," she snapped. "You don't consider me to be like that Wilton, do you?"

"You are a girl, of course you are not like Wilton," he replied. "Everyone knows that you are not like Wilton..."

"This is ridiculous," she stated firmly. "Even if I were your friend, I would not call you Jonathan."

"Why?" he asked. "You are Heather, I call you Heather and that is fine, but I am Jonathan and you do not call me by my name? My title is not more important than I am, is it?"

She screwed up her face in a frown, thinking deeply.

"That is an interesting question," she finally replied. "May I ask you, your highness, does anyone call your father the King by his name?"

"Of course people call him by his name," replied Jonathan. "My mother, Lord Albert, Stasha..."

"People to whom he is closest," she murmured, squinting in thought. "So I suppose, people who are closest to you see you as Jonathan and other people see you as your highness..."

"Yes!" he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Still, I would not call you Jonathan," she said off handedly. "We are not close..."

"Fine," he snapped. "Forget I said anything!"

She stared at him a moment, a frown fixed on her face.

"I suppose," she began, "we could become friends and THEN I could call you Jonathan."

He shook his head and ignored her. He had heard one of the guards state with deep conviction that all women were crazy, but he had not considered it a valid statement until he had become engaged in this particular conversation.

"Of course, if we were friends, we could not be friends like those other two you call friends," she stated firmly, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You would have to act like a responsible person and not an oaf..."

"I don't act like an oaf," he replied angrily.

"I didn't say you did, but as my mother always says, "People judge you by the people you surround yourself with" and I believe my mother."

"Well I believe my mother and she tells me not to judge other people," countered Jonathan.

Heather considered it.

"Don't judge other people," she murmured. "No, I don't see that making any sense at all..."

"Fine, you don't have to see it make any sense," he replied. "She's my mother and she does not lie, so I happen to believe it..."

"Still, she is the Queen, so I suppose there might be something to the idea," she replied in an attempt at being open minded. Turning to him, she squinted, "Why would we be friends?"

"Because we agree on everything," replied Jonathan drolly.

"I don't think we do, your highness," she replied seriously. "Still, you can't just be friends; you have to be friends for a reason. My cousin Ellen and I are friends because she and I both play the guitar. We are guitar friends. And my friend Virginia and I are friends because we both like drawing. We are drawing friends." She stared at him momentarily to see if he had caught onto the idea. Having concluded that he understood the concept, her eyes narrowed in thought. "I suppose that we could be dance friends, it seems as good a reason as any."

"This seems very complicated," confessed Jonathan, trying to ease himself out of the conversation. "All I asked you to do was call me Jonathan; perhaps we should just forget the entire thing..."

"No, no," she replied seriously. "You requested that I become your friend and now that we have found common ground for the basis of a friendship, I suppose it is only reasonable to become your friend."

"I am greatly honored," replied Jonathan flatly.

She nodded, "That being said, I suppose that I will, when in private and at the proper time, call you Jonathan."

Jonathan closed his eyes and shook his head, "I suppose I should say thank you..."

She considered it.

"I suppose you should."

Jonathan rolled his eyes, "Fine... THANK YOU!"

Heather smiled primly, "You are welcome...Jonathan."

### Chapter 20

Susan paced impatiently in her room as she awaited the proper time to leave. She had risen and dressed hours ago even though she needed but a few minutes to make the journey from the inn to the old woman's home. Finally, she determined that the time had come and slipping her traveling cloak over her gown, she swept out of her room and down the stairs of the inn.

The innkeeper began to call out to her, "Breakfast will be ready..."

But he stopped, recoiling at her glare. In an instant she was out of the door and moving quickly down the street towards the old woman's home. Ignoring the stares of the working men who were out walking to their various places of employment, she located the old woman's door, opened it and slid inside.

The old woman was sitting at her fire place and she looked up expectantly at the figure that had suddenly appeared before her.

Susan stared at her a moment and then said in a soft voice, "Go back to bed."

The old woman rose obediently and shuffled back to her bedroom, suddenly feeling very tired.

Five minutes passed and then ten. Susan began to pace about the small home, her anger growing. What more could the woman want? The fulfillment of her dreams, the silencing of her enemies? All that she desired, all that she wished for... Suddenly, she heard the front door beginning to open...

Sweeping out into the main room she confronted the tall man who stood before her. He seemed momentarily in awe, his eyes staring at her, lost in her beauty. Shaking his head slightly, he recovered himself and then bowed.

"My mistress begs your pardon for having sent a different messenger. She asks for your forgiveness and has ordered me to present this to you..." he stated softly and extending his hand, he held aloft a flower.

Susan stared for a moment at the flower, her mind recalculating, adjusting, considering and then her features softened.

"Tell your mistress that I accept her apology and that I will, at the appropriate time, come to her," she replied, extending her hand and accepting the flower.

The man bowed, never taking his eyes from her and slowly backing away, he found the door and eased himself back outside.

Raising the red rose to her nose, Susan smiled. Very well then, Very well, indeed...

***

The horses slowed to a stop near the stream with the unsteady step of animals who been forced to go too long and too far. Sliding from their backs, Ernest and Donna led them the short distance to the stream and dropped their reins into the water, allowing the horses to ease their tired hooves into the cool water and to take a long, leisurely drink in the shade.

"My poor girl is just about played out," stated Donna, rubbing her horse's neck affectionately.

"As is my poor fellow," replied Ernest. "There is an outpost about a quarter mile from here, we can switch mounts there..."

"I so hoped that they would have responded by now," said Donna softly. "I fear we are too late..."

"Perhaps I should have worded my message in a more urgent way..." said Ernest sadly.

"It is not your fault, my love," replied Donna, taking his hand. "We must act given the restrictions or face dire consequences. I just wish we had more time..."

"I can think of nothing faster," replied Ernest. "Without your powers we can do no more than we are doing."

"And I cannot use my powers to delay or change matters," she murmured. Turning to him, she frowned, "If we cannot get to them in time, my love, then we must be there to support them, no matter the cost..."

"The cost?' asked Ernest.

Donna shrugged, it was difficult to explain, "My love, all magic is obtained at a cost, which is why wizards and sorcerers learn their craft and then do their best not to practice it. Nothing is freely given other than love, everything that interferes with the true order of things produces a cost that must be paid, that must be given in order to rebalance the scales."

"Such as if you take wine from a cask, you have the wine, but the cask is less full, is that the idea?" asked Ernest.

"Yes and no," replied Donna, struggling to find an example. "If you take wine from the cask, the cask is less full, that is the consequence. With magic, if you take wine from the cask, then there is an imbalance, because the cask is supposed to remain full, so something else of similar value must replace the wine in order for the balance to be maintained."

"So when you cast a spell, there is a cost to it," he replied.

"Yes," she answered.

"Who pays that cost?" asked Ernest, realizing that his love had cast spells for his benefit in the past.

She frowned, "It depends upon many things. Think of it this way, my love, when you went to fight King Jeftus, he had an evil force working with him, did he not?"

"Yes..."

"Jeftus wanted power," stated Donna. "But in order to get what he wanted, he had to give up something; he had to feed the evil force. Eventually, he became the evil force; he paid the price of his desire by giving up his soul." She looked away, "There is always a cost, my love, always..."

Ernest pulled her closer, "What is it that you see, my love? What can you tell me?"

"Marie will pay a very high price," she said softly. "As will Alex and Annalisse and Jonathan...what she desires is more costly than she can imagine..."

***

Lady Gertrude moved quickly through the main gallery of her home, dressed in her travel cloak. Gaining the front entrance, she looked about, anxious that no one might see her and made her way down the path leading to the carriage house. There, she found Parker's groom, a boy named Franz, gently brushing the coat of one of his master's horses. Turning, he appeared momentarily flustered and bowed.

"Milady," he said quickly, "I am sorry, I did not hear you enter..."

"It is all right, Franz," she smiled. "I need a horse and a favor..."

"A favor? From me, milady?"Franz eyed her, his confusion apparent.

"Yes, Franz," she replied, moving closer. The boy froze, all of his attention concentrated on the beautiful woman who was his master's wife. "I wish to surprise my darling husband. I will take the horse and return without it and then I will leave and return with it. I do not want you to report ANY of this to anyone else, not even to your family. If you do, you will spoil the surprise for your lord. Now, can I trust you to keep my secret?"

"Until my dying day, milady," replied the boy, crossing himself vigorously and then spitting on the ground in affirmation.

"Excellent, excellent," she beamed. "Now remember, even after today, you can tell no one about what happened today, do you understand? This is our little secret, forever..."

"Forever, milady," he replied. "No one will know from me, I can promise you with all my heart.

Dashing quickly to the rear of the stables, he returned with a beautiful, ink black mare. In moments, he had the horse saddled and bridled and watched as Gertrude mounted the beautiful beast, smiling down at him in obvious joy.

"I am counting on you Franz..." she said as she directed the horse towards the doors.

"I will never fail you, milady," replied Franz, watching her disappear into the growing dusk. Staring after her, he watched, entranced by her beauty long after he could not see her anymore, "I will never tell anyone, milady, NEVER..."

### Chapter 21

As darkness descended, Ernest noticed that Donna was pushing her mount even harder, urging it forward at dangerous speed. As they roared down the lane, he called out to her to stop and reluctantly, she let up and slowed gradually to a halt.

"The crossroad is here," he pointed, peering into the growing darkness and pointing to a gray blotch on the horizon. "We will need to go left; Wharton is a good four hours from that point."

"FOUR HOURS!" she snapped, her eyes wide in the growing moonlight. "Four hours is too late, my love, too late!"

As they spoke, a royal messenger appeared on the horizon, moving quickly down the road towards them. Spotting them, he slowed his horse to a cantor and arrived, respectfully bowing to the couple.

"Your highness, your highness," he said, bowing to Ernest and Donna in turn. "Forgive my surprise; I did not expect to see you here. His majesty had ordered me to seek you out; I have his reply to your letter..."

"Here, quickly," responded Ernest as the messenger produced the scroll from within his bag. Opening it, he scanned it, amazed at how clearly the moonlight illuminated the paper.

"It is from Alex. He is sorry, but matters at court are too pressing at the present time for him to journey to us. He will contact us towards the end of the week and perhaps he and Marie will be able to arrange to meet with us at that time..."

"Then they have made no move to meet us," she cried. Turning to the messenger, she asked him, "Tell me, are the King and Queen still at Wharton?"

"Yes, milady, they are still in residence," replied the messenger.

"Come, we might yet not be too late," stated Ernest.

"Hurry, my love, hurry," replied Donna and the two spurred their horses, leaving the messenger in the middle of the road, bewildered.

***

"There are several other dispatches, milord, that can wait until tomorrow, unless, of course, you wish to deal with them now..." stated Albert.

It had been a long day and while Albert was always ready to work, he sensed a certain anxiousness about Alex this evening, as if he would rather be somewhere else. It was not something that occurred too often, but even a king needed a night off once in a while and with the recent wedding and the strain it had put on the normal cycle of things, he could understand why Alex would seek to ease off a little.

Alex frowned. It was his habit to say let us leave no work for tomorrow, but he was intrigued by his wife's promise to surprise him this evening. Few knew it, but Alex had a romantic streak which was well reciprocated by his wife. He would often leave her little gifts or snatches of poetry and he had been extremely pleased to find that Marie was only too eager to respond in kind. He had picked some flowers for her at lunchtime and she had seemed so overwhelmed by the gesture that he was a bit taken aback. She had reminded him then of her promise of a special romantic evening and he could not get the idea out of his mind.

"Let us finish things tomorrow," replied Alex. "I think we both deserve a little bit of time off, Albert, don't you?"

"I do, milord, but I am ready to work if you wish," replied Albert, honestly wishing to call it a night and hoping he would not regret his words.

"No, no, let us relax a little tonight," he replied. "I want to spend some time with Marie; we seem to spend so little time together anymore..."

"Marriage will do that to a couple," chuckled Albert. "Then I will wish you a good night and will go and find Stasha. It will be nice to spend the evening in her company."

The two men quickly put away their work and wished each other a good night at the door of the King's study. Albert went down the stairs seeking Stasha in the kitchens below and Alex set out in search of Marie. Approaching their rooms, he motioned to the guard stationed outside the door. The man presented himself with a bow.

"Have you seen her majesty?" asked Alex quietly.

"She is within, sire," replied the guard.

"Thank you," smiled Alex.

Entering his chambers, he was surprised that the room seemed to be filled with a slight mist. The aroma of flowers permeated the air. The mist diffused the light, giving the room a soft, almost magical, glow. Unsure of how to proceed, Alex called out softly.

"Marie..."

"I am here, my love..." replied Marie, her voice soft and seductive. "Come to me, my angel..."

Alex drew closer to the curtain that separated their bed chamber from their sitting chamber, both anxious and for some reason, slightly uneasy. As he reached for the curtain, Marie's hand suddenly thrust through the slight parting between panes and with a graceful flutter of her fingers, motioned him to enter. Slowly pushing the curtain aside, he peered into the room and found that their bed was surrounded by candles or all sizes and descriptions, each providing a soft glow that illuminated the chamber. Glancing at the foot of the bed, he saw Marie sauntering away from him slowly towards the far side of the bed. Her silken nightgown captured her beautiful movement as she slid smoothly towards the opposite side of the bed. Turning towards him, he took in the image of her, the shining white material glistening in the light, swaying seductively as it hugged her perfect figure. There was something more, a shimmering beneath the long opening that ran from the neck of the gown to her navel in the soft glow of the candles.

Without a word, seductively reaching for the straps of the gown, she slowly lowered them, down her arms, past her waist and released it, letting it gently float to the floor. As the gown fell, the light began playing off of something that both reflected it and also absorbed the shadows that surrounded it. Slowly, Alex realized that the glowing form was Marie, as she stood swaying sexily, giving him a moment for his eyes to become accustom to the strange light and to the view of her body, glowing in strange, seductive sparkles. Gracefully, she spun around, allowing him to view her entire body and it was then that he realized what it was he was seeing and he took a deep breath in surprise.

A golden wire crowned Marie's head, holding a single large ruby in place upon her forehead. Her shining hair cascaded down her back and shoulders as well as framing her beautiful face, her eyes looking at him seductively, her lips slightly parted as if she were going to whisper some erotic secret to him. Leaving her face, his eyes traveled downwards, his mind recognizing what he had been unable to process just a moment before. Marie was nude save for a netted stocking made of golden thread that enveloped her body from her neck to her ankles. The light exploded in tiny sparks against the gold, making her body seem to sparkle and occasionally emitting rainbow bursts of color in the candle light. Her perfect skin glowed beneath the netting and her body, beautifully formed and filled with desire bent towards him as she gracefully placed one knee upon the bed. Raising her arm, she stretched out her hand to him and beckoned him to join her on the bed.

Entranced, Alex moved swiftly to the bed and reaching out his hand, gently pulling her towards him until he held her pressed tightly to his body.

"Not yet," she purred, "no, my love, not yet..."

Holding her in his arms, he looked at her, the fight between confusion and desire plainly visible upon his face.

"First, you must blow out the candles and then throw back the curtains," she purred, nibbling his ear. "We need the moonlight; we must have the moonlight..."

Rising to obey, he frantically blew out the candles and then pulled the curtains back, moonlight flooding the room. Turning, he saw his wife lowering herself to the bed, the moonlight shimmering and sparkling against her netting. Quickly removing his clothes, Alex was at her side in an instant, staring down at her, drinking in the vision of her loveliness.

Reaching out, she touched him, gently wrapping her hand around him with a seductive smile.

"I'm waiting, my love," she purred.

Wrapping her in his arms, he caressed her through the netting, tasting, enticing, and engaging her body in every way he knew. As he drove himself lower along her form, his tongue found her and she wrapped her hands in his hair and urged him with her body to continue his loving assault. Her scent and sounds drove him mad and as she reached her climax, he rose above her, feeling as if he were possessed. Driving the full length of himself into her, he felt as if he were a wild animal, unable and unwilling to contain himself. Her moaning made his mind reel and he pulled her to him, tearing at the netting until he held her and only her in his arms, her beautiful body his, her touch, her scent, her very soul his. As they climaxed together, he called out her name over and over again until together, they collapsed against the mattress, clutching each other, each afraid to release the other.

Staring into his eyes, she smiled darkly at him, "Don't stop now, my love, please God, don't stop now..."

Arching her back, she pulled him to her and helped him to once again enter her as her hands stroked his back and urged him to continue his lovemaking...

***

Stasha rose from her bed and smiled down at Albert lying fast asleep beside her. After all of these years, the man could still sleep through anything, she thought. Leaning over, she kissed him lightly on the top of his head and then stepped out of their bedroom door to their sitting room. She always found it funny that her suite of rooms was at least twice the size of the king and queen's own rooms.

King Joseph had insisted upon them living in these rooms, anxious that she and Albert should always be near him and his two boys. After coming to the throne, Alex had insisted on the same arrangement and she had been surprised to find that Marie concurred with the arrangement wholeheartedly.

She knew that many of the nobles were jealous of the fact that she and Albert enjoyed the largest suite of rooms that Wharton offered, but Stasha always answered their objections and remarks with the same observation; it was just more for her to clean.

Waddling to the fire, she poked the dying embers, tossed another log on the fire and took a seat in her favorite chair, picking up a book, intent on reading. Normally when she could not sleep she knitted, but she did not feel like it tonight, her restlessness somehow different from the normal insomnia from which she suffered. A feeling grew within her that she should go to the window, though she had no desire to truly look out, but the pull was so strong that finally, she rose and putting her book aside, made her way to the window.

The moonlight shone, a powerful beacon in the sky, illuminating everything in its silvery glow. Stasha stared up at the light, awed by the sheer beauty and power that it seemed to possess. After a time, she looked down at the village below and was surprised to see a mist rising and coursing through the streets, heading towards the castle. It was not a normal mist, but instead, it seemed to move with a purpose all of its own, shifting like a snake through the deserted streets as if seeking out the gates of the castle. She noted the guards on duty gesturing towards the strange mist as it wound its way towards the castle gate and then under it, swiftly filling the courtyard and then creeping towards the front door.

A chill ran through Stasha as she watched the mist in the moonlight, it was not natural, she was certain of it, but yet, it was merely mist, what harm could it do? Slipping on her robe, she made her way out into the hallway and proceeded to walk towards the main stairs. Reaching the top of the stairs, she looked down and saw the mist hovering just above the main floor as if seeking a route to climb still higher.

A guard stood at the bottom of the stairs and upon seeing him, Stasha decided to take action.

"You there," she called out in a hard whisper.

The guard turned and looked towards her.

"Go and light a torch and sweep it through that mist," she ordered.

The guard was about to object to leaving his post, but then thought better of it. Saying that one had been given an order from Stasha was nearly as good as saying the King had given an order. Leaving his post a moment, he went into one of the adjoining rooms, returning with a torch. Bending over the large fireplace that warmed the main hall, he lit the torch and began to slowly swing it through the mist, forcing it back towards the door. At last, the last of the mist had dissipated and the guard returned the torch to the room where he had procured it.

"See to it that if that mist returns, you treat it in the same manner," ordered Stasha, unsure why it had been an important thing to do, but just as sure that it had been important.

The guard saluted and wished her a good night and she once again returned to her room. Removing her robe, she continued to watch the mist outside of the window. What did it portend? A great uneasiness grew in Stasha's heart; something was not right, something was not right...

### Chapter 22

Ernest drew his horse to a stop and pointed to Donna, who was quickly by his side.

"There, can you see it?" he called out.

The village of Wharton lay before them, still several miles away, but clearly visible in the spectacular moonlight. Donna pointed towards the castle as Ernest leaned forward in his saddle and frowned.

"Is something on fire?" he asked.

"Where?" asked Donna.

Pointing towards the main road of the village, he shook his head, "It's a fog, or a mist. Look at how oddly it moves..."

"Come my love, come," cried Donna, trying to suppress her panic. "We must get to them, we must..."

Suddenly, she stopped, holding the horse as still as the night air. Ernest was at her side in an instant.

"Donna, what is it?"

Donnas' eyes filled with tears, "It has happened, my love, it has already happened..."

"What has happened?" asked Ernest.

"We came to prevent an evil and we have failed," she moaned. Closing her eyes, the tears ran down her cheeks as she shook her head. Slowly, almost mechanically, she stated, "There will be rejoicing but it shall be short lived. The sorrow that follows will be too great for some to bear and that is when the danger will be greatest." Turning to Ernest, she regained her composure, exhaling harshly. "We will have much to do, my love, much to do..."

Slowly, she rode her horse at a walk towards the village, Ernest trailing her, unsure of what, if anything, to say. The pain in her voice was so raw it left no room for questioning. Something would happen soon...

***

Lady Gertrude lay in the bed at the inn, wondering if she were being made a fool of and unsure if she should continue to do as the woman had instructed. She had not moved in an hour and nothing had happened. As per her instructions, Gertrude had not opened her eyes nor moved a muscle but nothing had happened, nothing at all. It must be damp this evening, she thought, the chill of the night and the rising dampness beginning to make her feel uncomfortable.

Perhaps she was being foolish. The woman had accosted her on her afternoon ride, appearing from a stand of trees on her property. Explaining that she was a sorceress and that she knew Gertrude's desires, she had explained that she could guarantee the birth of a boy if Gertrude agreed to trust her. The whole idea had seemed fantastic, but such was Gertrude's desire to give Parker a son, that she had listened intently. After all, the woman's had seemed to only want to use her gifts to help her and she had known so much about her and had seemed so kind, that Gertrude had decided to take the chance almost immediately. The one thing that the woman had requested was that she be allowed to meet Parker a year after the birth of their son, a harmless request to which Gertrude had agreed.

Now, however, it seemed as if the entire thing was a hoax of some sort and Gertrude decided that she would leave. Trying to swallow her feeling of disappointment, she had decided to rise when she suddenly gasped.

Her eyes had seemed to open, but she knew that she had not opened them, they were, in fact, still closed, but the picture in her mind of what was before her appeared as if she had opened her eyes after having been asleep. For a moment, she fought the urge to move, but she stayed as still as she could, seeing and listening to all that was being said.

She is in her sitting room and she is seated next to Parker. He is dressed for bed and glancing down at her own body, she sees that she is still dressed, wearing the exact dress that she is wearing as she lays on the bed.

"I am going to get ready for bed," she hears her voice say. It is as if she has spoken, but her mouth has not moved, her mind has not formed that thought. Rising, she hesitates as Parker reaches out and grasps her hand.

In bed at the inn, Gertrude gasped. She felt his hand touching her, felt the weight and warmth of his grip upon her skin. It was true, what the woman said was true, she could hear and see and feel everything! She was there and yet, not there, it was so odd and unbelievable but it was completely true. Looking into Parker's eyes, she can see that he obviously believes that he is looking at her, that the person standing before him is her! He will never guess, will never know...

Moving through the doorway to her bedroom, she feels the floor beneath her feet and can feel her clothing touching her body, her dress brushing against her legs. Sliding her shoes from her feet, she loosened the stays on her gown and slides it from her body. Moving to her dresser, she opens the draw that holds her nightgowns, but picking one up, she places it back in the draw and closes it. Removing all of her clothing, she moves swiftly and picks up a small leather pouch that is concealed behind her mirror. Gertrude is surprised, she remembered no pouch there, but she realizes that the woman must have brought it with her. Reaching into the pouch, she feels bottles and jars and then sees a white jar with a golden top which she removes. Opening it, she sees its contents, a clear ointment which she begins rubbing upon her hands and then all over herself, on her arms, legs and body. The smell is wonderful and her skin feels smooth and slick as her hands continue to gently spread the ointment all over. Looking down, Gertrude gasps, noticing a small beauty mark near her navel! It is exactly where it is on her body and then, she looks up into the mirror above her vanity and sees herself nude. It IS her, there can be no mistake about it, it absolutely is her down to the last detail! She smiles at herself and then begins to rub the ointment upon her breasts and belly. As she does so, wonderful warmth begins to spread throughout her body, but along with this good feeling she is becoming anxious. Moving back to the vanity, she removes something from the bag, a silk gown barely large enough to cover her body. Sliding it over her head, she admires herself in the mirror. In bed Gertrude is shaking her head, she would never wear anything like this, it does not even cover her bottom and it is cut so low that her breasts are struggling to remain within it! Lying still on the bed, Gertrude blushed; she would never appear in such an outfit before Parker, what would he think of her dressed in this manner?

"No," she said firmly. "You must change into something else! NO, don't wear that!"

But she continued to smile at herself in the mirror and then sauntering over to the bed, turned to see her exposed backside in the mirror as she sprawled out upon the bed. No, she would never display herself in such a fashion; she would never cheapen herself in such a manner.

"No, DON'T!" snapped Gertrude, but apparently, while she could hear all that they said and did, the woman could not hear her or worse yet, was completely ignoring her.

She must rise and stop her, she determined, she must return now, before Parker saw her like this! It was then that she realized that she could not move. Her body was paralyzed, would not obey her orders to rise from the bed!

Suddenly she heard a voice in her head as if she were thinking, but what was being said were not her thoughts or ideas, but the ideas and thoughts of someone else.

"He must be truly excited for this to work," cooed the woman's voice. "Do you think that the nightgown you wear titillates him? Don't be ridiculous! He must be more aggressive than he has ever been before. All men want a woman who presents herself as a willing and available slave to their desires. He wants to join with your body, to use it!"

"No, Parker loves me, respects me! I will NOT appear like this before my husband!" responded Gertrude. "It will lessen his opinion of me!"

"YOU are not appearing before your husband," replied the woman with a wicked laugh. "I am..."

"But..."

Looking up, she is horrified to find Parker peering in at her as she sprawls out seductively on their bed, displaying herself like a trollop, writhing on their bed. Feeling the linen sheets rubbing against her bare bottom, she turns to offer herself to him. His face wears a broad smile and something else, something she has never seen in him before. It was not love in his eyes, but a wolfish lust. Indeed, she can find no love there, nothing tender or gentle but merely an animal desire to couple with her. It is in his eyes, a fire that blazes only to consume...

"Come my love," she hears her voice say, "come and make me yours..."

Parker strips off his clothing in a frenzy and she wonders if there is something in the ointment she is wearing that reduces him from her lover to a craving beast? She has never seen him appear this aggressive and it frightens her. She has always known of his desire for her, but Parker has always been a gentle, generous, kind lover, almost shy in his affection. Now, with her splayed before him like a paid strumpet, he seems almost like a mad man. She stares at him through the eyes of the woman as he takes her roughly in his arms. There is no gentleness in him, just desire and the need for self gratification in his actions.

She is talking to him, her language vulgar and blunt, demanding and demeaning to them both. She begs him to use her, her actions urging him to act more harshly. He enters her roughly, as she swears an oath. Her legs are rising, her hands upon his back, her hands entangled in his hair, pulling his head back painfully. She would never act this way, never say the things the woman is saying... She feels as if she is a whore, as if she is being violated by her own husband and she screams her angry words at the woman whose laughter fills her ears. Feeling as if she will go mad she suddenly feels his release, he is filling her, how can it be? Their bodies slowly go slack, exhausted.

Forcing her eyes open, she finds herself in the room at the inn, feels the cold clamminess of the mist that has filled the room and surrounds her. Sitting up, she feels bruised and tender, aching and cold. Touching her skin, she finds it slick with moisture, surprised to find that she is panting to regain her breath. What has she done? What has the woman done to Parker? What is she doing to Parker even now? To her? Rising on unsteady legs, she stumbles from the room seeking to return home as quickly as possible, the woman's laughter still ringing in her ears.

***

Alex' massive arms were wrapped tightly around Marie, clutching her to his chest, his nose nestled in her hair, a smile upon his face as he slept. To have such a wife, such a mother, such a lover...It had been early morning before he had fallen asleep, their night of love making a reaffirmation of their love, of the bond they share.

In his arms, Marie lay silently, her arms wrapped around his, holding them as tightly as he held her, her mind racing. She murmured quietly, her words a prayer and a thought, a confession and a statement.

"I love you with all my heart, Jonathan," she whispered, "with all my soul. I gave you life and protected you and Annalisse, held you in my arms when you were too small to know who or what you were, fed you, clothed you, protected you, loved you and will always love you..." she took a shallow, shuddering breath. "I have loved you since I held you in my womb and I will love you until I die and beyond, but I made a promise, a promise to your father, to the one who loves us and protects us and lives every day as if we alone matter. I promised to never share myself with another and he made that same promise, before all, before God and I cannot go back on my promise, I can never break a promise to the one I love with all my heart and soul, before the maker of all hearts and souls and I would not fool him into breaking it, even for you my love. I am sorry that I cannot give you another to help you, to support you in your burden, but what we have between us must be enough for now..." Squeezing her husband's large hands in her own, she sighed quietly, "I will do my best to help you, my loving, sweet Jonathan and I will stand the words of the unkind people who mock me for not giving your father another son, but I will not betray my love for him or cause him to betray his love for me, not even for you my son, not even for me...I love your father, Jonathan, even as I love you..."

With a soft sigh, Marie grasped Alex hands even tighter and with tears in her eyes, she suddenly felt as if for the first time in a long time, she could take a deep breath. She exhaled and twisted to face her husband, friend and lover and snuggling against his chest, in the warmth and protection of his arms, falling into a deep and blessed sleep.

### Chapter 23

Alex sat in the audience chamber, Marie at his side, accepting the credentials of the newest Ambassador from the land of Albria. As they spoke to the new ambassador, Marie's hand rested upon his own and he could not stop from glancing at her occasionally just to see her face, just to be sure that she was there with him. To the consternation of some in the court, the King had seemed even more in love with the Queen during these last months than he had been before, if indeed that was possible. He never lost an opportunity to hold her hand or speak a loving word in her ear and she was quite as bad as he, racing into his arms at the slightest provocation, her beautiful face reserving a special smile that appeared only upon seeing him.

As the new ambassador bowed to take his leave, a Church bell began to ring and then another and then others. Listening to the joyous sound, the King and Queen looked at one another. Marie's face broke into a wide smile.

"Do you think..." she asked in a hush voice.

"It must be," replied Alex. "Did we not receive word only this morning that she was in labor?"

Entering the main hall on her way to the audience chamber to speak with Marie, Stasha squinted and stopped, listening to the bells as they rang. Glancing down at the floor, she pondered the meaning of what she felt, if indeed there was one. It had been nine months since the mist had crept to this floor beneath the door, nine months since she had ordered the guard to destroy it with the fire of the torch. Did it mean anything? Stasha shook her head slowly, the uneasiness she had felt that night returning.

Coming upon his wife standing in the hall, Albert placed his arm about her, causing her to start.

"It is only me, my dear," chuckled Albert. Pointing towards the ceiling, he laughed, "She must be delivered of the baby from the sound of things!"

"I suppose," said Stasha suspiciously.

"What is the matter?" asked Albert.

"It is just..." she began, but never finished.

A messenger came storming in from beyond the open doors that led out into the sunshine of the court beyond.

"A boy, milord," he gasped excitedly in a whisper to Albert.

"A boy?" replied Albert. "What wonderful news for Parker and Gertrude! My great good friend Bartran must be so pleased. And the mother, is she well?"

"Fine, milord, fine," replied the messenger.

"To the King and Queen," stated Albert. "Hurry, now, hurry..."

In the audience chamber beyond, the messenger's entrance caused the King and Queen to rise together, anxious to hear the news.

With a deep bow, the messenger smiled. Upon Alex commanding him to rise, the messenger glanced about the room and with a broad smile spoke as if he were an actor upon a stage.

"Your most royal highnesses, I come from the home of your friend and the Queen's champion, the Lord Parker, to announce to you that his bride, the Lady Gertrude has delivered a child, a son!"

The court broke into applause and Alex felt Marie squeeze his hand tenderly.

"Also, your majesties, it is my great pleasure to announce that her ladyship and the infant are both well and resting comfortably."

Finishing his speech, the messenger gave the King and Queen another extravagant bow as the applause continued at the news.

Turning to Marie, Alex nodded. She squeezed his hand again; it had been his idea that she should respond when the news came rather than follow custom and have the King voice the reply. It was a message; both to still the voices that claimed Marie were jealous of Gertrude's pregnancy and to let Gertrude herself know how truly happy Marie was for her and Parker.

"We command," she said, with a happy glance at her husband, "that you inform the Lord Parker and the Lady Gertrude, and of course, the newest member of their family, that we are thrilled to receive such welcome and joyous news and that the King and Queen await their summons and look forward to waiting upon them at their earliest possible convenience."

"As you command, your majesty," smiled the messenger, who rose and dashed from the court to deliver the message.

At his departure, everyone began to speak amongst themselves, some preparing to leave and make their way to the home of Lord and Lady Parker, others to spread the news to their friends. No one seemed to notice Stasha standing at the doorway, looking intently at the King and Queen, the uneasiness growing stronger in her.

Albert at her side was smiling brilliantly, they had known the happy couple since their births and now they were having children, how wonderful life is, he thought. Turning to his wife, he was surprised to find her so distracted.

"Stasha, what is it?" he asked.

Stasha merely shook her head, "Nothing, nothing at all. I made the baby an outfit; I think that perhaps I will get it and we should go and see them, what do you think?"

Albert knew her too well to inquire further into her mood, "I think that would be a good idea, Stasha my love."

She looked up at him and placing a hand on his face, kissed him on the cheek and forced a slight smile.

"I won't be a moment," she said softly.

Albert watched her leave wondering; what was that about?

***

A week later, with church bells ringing once again, Donna and Ernest stepped out into the sunshine from the dark recesses of the cathedral, Donna holding the baby, the newly christened Jacob. Gertrude and Parker had asked the newlyweds to stand as godparents to the child, a request to which they were happy to acquiesce.

"I was going to ask Marie to stand as godmother," stated Gertrude softly to Stasha, who was with her at her home awaiting the return of the child, "but I feared it might hurt her feelings. I would not hurt her for the world."

"I think you have chosen very wisely," stated Stasha. "I am certain Marie would have been delighted, but I think Donna was extremely touched by the honor."

Gertrude smiled from her bed. She had not been feeling well since the birth and as it was the custom that the mother and father not be present at the christening, she had taken advantage of the fact to stay in bed and rest. The doctors assured her that she was merely fatigued from the birth, that nothing was wrong and that she would soon be feeling better.

"I believe she was very pleased," she replied happily as Stasha took a seat beside her. "Both Alex and Ernest have been like brothers to me all of my life, I wanted one of them to be the godfather of our child."

"And who better to play with a newborn than Ernest?" chuckled Stasha.

For his part, Parker was only too pleased to have Donna and Ernest as the godparents. Both he and Gertrude were overwhelmed by the gifts the child was receiving and the well wishes they were given, the King and Queen and Donna and Ernest having been exceptionally generous. Gertrude especially cherished the memory of Marie holding the child when she and Alex had come to visit, watching as Marie kissed his head and cooed over him. There was no pain or jealousy, only happiness and love and Gertrude, at that moment, never loved her dear friend more.

Standing upon the steps of the cathedral as the crowds appeared, trying to catch a peek at the new born, Ernest stood next to Donna, his mind racing. When asked to repeat the vow to help his parents guide the newborn in his faith, Donna had added the words "and protect him". Few had noticed the inclusion, it was spoken so quietly, but Ernest had heard the fervor of his wife's voice. Since their sudden early return to Wharton those many months ago, she had spoken little about what joy and sorrow would happen, but he had no doubt that it was connected in some way with this child.

"Let us go to the carriage," said Ernest into his wife's ear. "I am sure that Gertrude is anxious to see the little fellow again."

"It must be trying for her not to be able to come," said Donna in reply.

"It is the custom," replied Ernest, smiling down at the child. "I hope soon that this little fellow will have a playmate..."

Donna laughed as she headed towards the carriage, "Let us enjoy each other a little longer and then we can discuss it..."

***

The christening celebration lasted most of the week, with visitors and guests continually visiting the new parents and their little bundle of joy. Both Parker and Gertrude enjoyed the attention that was being showered upon their son, each cherishing the kind words and loving advice that their friends and family offered.

It was also a time for the couple to reflect upon their own relationship. Prior to the certainty that Gertrude was pregnant, they had made love several times, but it had been different than before and it had caused something of a strain between the two of them.

Parker had been surprised by Gertrude's behavior. He had become frustrated and annoyed with how she had changed after that one night of narcissistic sex. He was angry that she had reverted after that one night, trying to once again play, to his mind, the shy and gentle maiden after she had revealed herself to be a wanton and lewd temptress. She had done things to him that one night, said things and acted in a manner that had surprised and confused him. Still, on a base level, it had delighted him and had encouraged him to act in a manner that sought only his own satisfaction.

It had been difficult for them to put the episode behind them and once it became certain that she was with child, they had ceased relations, both in consideration of Gertrude and the baby's health and in order to sort out their feelings and expectations.

Now, with his son and his wife beside him, Parker had decided that he did not want to see that side of his wife again. She did not need to act like a slut to solicit his attention; she need only be Gertrude, his beautiful, loving and adorable wife and mother to his child. He would seek her happiness first and foremost in ALL things from now on, loving her as she craved to be loved.

For her part, Gertrude seemed deeply embarrassed about that night and only too happy to return to the affectionate, loving bond that they had shared. Still, there were times when Parker could not help but wonder, why had she acted the way she had on that night?

On the last day of the celebrations, Count Bartran took his daughter aside and spoke to her, his concern apparent.

"You are wearing yourself out with all of these visitors," he pleaded softly. "Please Gertrude, send them away and rest a while. You are pushing yourself too far, both of you are; please, send them away."

She smiled a wan smile and nodded, "I think that I will, father. I know how pleased Parker is, but I really do feel very tired..." While she looked no less beautiful, she did indeed appear to be exhausted and quite a bit thinner than she had been prior to the pregnancy. She could not understand it, the doctors kept insisting that she was fine but she had felt tired since the birth, as if something were draining her energy from her.

A short time later, as she had promised her father, she retired and after kissing her son good night, fell fast asleep. When Parker finally retired later that evening, he stripped down and climbed into bed beside her, exhausted and proud of his beautiful wife and his little son. It was not until he reclined next to her that he realized that something was wrong.

His wife was radiating an unnatural heat that surprised and startled him. Turning towards her, he reached out his hand and tentatively touched her brow, drawing it back as if burned; Gertrude was burning up with fever. Jumping to his feet, Parker lit a candle and examined her. The light reflected off of her moist skin and he could see how labored her breathing had become, though she was making very little noise.

Running into the hall, he called the servants and woke the household, crying for them to summon the doctor immediately. Running to the kitchen, he retrieved a bowl and cloth and filling the bowl with cool water, he ran back to the bedroom, water splashing upon the stairs.

Placing the cool cloth upon her forehead, he saw her eyes flutter open, her stare glassy.

"Oh, Parker, my love, I do not feel well," she whispered. "I am so thirsty..."

"I will get you something to drink in a moment my love," he promised, sending a terrified servant for some water while he bathed her face desperately trying to cool her.

### Chapter 24

Marie sat by Aston, staring down at the young man, her hand gently touching his shoulder. As Alex entered, she looked up and turning back to Aston, took his hand and gently placed it upon his breast.

"He suffered terribly at the end," she whispered quietly. "His family was here, but he kept asking for me, begging me to ask you to forgive him, begging me for forgiveness..." Shaking her head, she looked down at him, "I told him, even swore before his parents that we both forgave him with all our hearts, but he kept begging me as if he could never be sure..."

"I forgave him long ago," whispered Alex, reaching down and taking her hand. "I just wish he had gotten well again. Whatever he suffered from, I am glad at least that now he is at peace." Turning to her, he began to ask, "The doctors..."

"They could do nothing more," replied Marie. "They did their best, but whatever it was, they could do nothing to alleviate his suffering. In the end, my love, he seemed to wish for death. He kept saying that she had abandoned him and that he was both betrayed and betrayer. He insisted that she had betrayed him and that he had betrayed the ones that he loved. I did not understand it, my love; do you think she ever really existed or was she just in his imagination?"

"I do not know," whispered Alex. "No one else had ever seen her, I have sent messengers out to the places he had traveled seeking any information they could about this mystery woman, but no one seems to know anything about her."

Marie leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him, feeling those strong arms holding her as she looked down at the wasted face of the young man whom she had started hating and had ended forgiving.

"God rest his soul," she murmured as the guards entered the room and prepared to remove the young man's body.

***

"Please, sire, go in," begged Count Bartran, holding his grandson tightly to his chest. "I cannot bear it any longer, she suffers so. Please, she asks for you and Ernest..."

Alex placed an arm around Bartran's shoulder, unable to think of anything to say to comfort him. The summons to Gertrude's bedside had come from Marie a short time earlier, taking him completely by surprise. Marie had stated that she had thought that Gertrude was getting better yesterday and the doctors said that it was merely a fever from overwork and exhaustion and that she had turned a corner.

Leaving her distressed father and sleeping son, Alex entered Gertrude's bedroom. Marie was seated at the far side of the bed, Donna and Stasha hovering behind her. On the side of the bed closest to the door, Parker sat, clutching his wife's hand, whispering urgently to her, while Ernest stood behind him. Turning to his brother, Ernest shrugged helplessly, his face filled with despair.

"It is as if life itself is being drawn out of her," he stated softly to his brother. "I have never seen anything like this..."

Alex drew closer working mightily to suppress his emotions. Gertrude was like his little sister. They had grown up together, laughed together, played together, kept each other's secrets, shared each other's joys and sorrows. He was her strong and steadfast older brother, protector and friend and she was his smart and sincere and beautiful little sister. He and Ernest had gone off to war, both had been wounded, injured, had been close to death, but Gertrude had always been there to greet them upon their return, had entertained them during their convalescence, had cheered their victories and helped them deal with their failures.

Now he looked down upon her, thrashing weakly upon the bed, sweat pouring from her face, her eyes glassy, trying desperately to focus upon those who had gathered around her.

He looked down at Parker, sitting now on the edge of the bed, desperately trying to maintain his composure. He looked to the others, all of them feeling helpless and useless, each in agony as they stared at the pale form gasping for air in the bed, relentlessly fighting for life.

Marie lifted a cloth from the basin on the bed stand and began to bathe Gertrude's face with cool water. Gertrude turned and looking at the Queen, spoke to her, her voice a broken whisper.

"Take care of my baby," she begged. "Oh Marie, my dear friend, my Queen, take care of my baby..."

"Try to relax, my dear," replied Marie, struggling to maintain her composure. "Your baby is well, little Jacob will always be taken care of..."

"Donna," she cried, "Donna, you promised, you PROMISED ME, YOU PROMISED BEFORE GOD..."

"I promise Gertrude, I promise and I will never break my promise to you, neither of us would ever break our promise to you," Donna whispered warmly.

"Stasha, you will teach him, you will love him, won't you..."

"I love him, my dear, I love him just as I love you," replied Stasha, wiping a tear from her eye.

Twisting back towards Parker, she smiled, her complexion waxy. Glancing at Alex, she frowned at her husband, "Parker, Parker, the King is here, I should rise, help me to rise Parker..."

"No, no Gertrude," replied Alex as Parker began to weep. "I command you NOT to rise, you are my little sister, and you do not have to rise for me..."

"Oh Ernest, won't you help me?" she pleaded.

"Anything, my little sister, anything for you," he replied, tears running down his cheeks. "You know I would do anything for you..."

"Sing my song, Ernest, sing the song we used to sing, it always made me laugh, Ernest, for me, sing for me..." she rasped.

Ernest thought back and began, "Never hit your grandma in the head with a shovel, it leaves a bad impression on her mind..."

Gertrude gave a slight laugh and then looked back at Parker. Her eyes became darker as she stared at him.

"Why are you crying my love? Has something happened to Jacob? Tell me..."

"No, my love, no..." he wept. "Jacob loves you and is well and is sleeping, sleeping so soundly... His little face is so handsome, so very handsome, he looks so much like his beautiful mother, he looks like you my love..."

"I love you Parker," she said softly. "I love you so much, I wanted to give you a little boy, for us to have a little boy...I am so sorry Parker, so sorry for what I have done... forgive me for what I did...she made me act like a whore, Parker, I am not a whore..."

"No, my love, no," he replied anxiously, embarrassed to discuss such a thing in front of their friends. "You are my Queen, my love, my one true love. Do not say such things; do not think such things..."

"Where is Daddy?" she asked suddenly.

The Count stood in the doorway, unable to come closer, holding his grandson to his chest and weeping bitterly, though silently. After his wife's death, it had been just the two of them, him and his beloved little daughter. She was his entire world and now, he could do nothing for her, do nothing to ease her pain. Standing in the door, holding his grandson as if the little boy alone could keep him from collapsing, he moaned inwardly, unable to bear his daughter's suffering. Why Lord, why not take me? I am old, she has her whole life, a new babe, oh Lord, oh Lord...

"Where is Daddy?" asked Gertrude once again.

"He is resting, Gertrude," stated Marie. "You should try and rest too..."

Turning to Marie, she tried to focus, but seemed unable to do so. Looking back at Parker, she forced her eyes to focus upon him.

"Promise me that you will not meet with her, promise me!"

"Meet with who, my angel?" asked Parker, confused and frightened by her adamant words.

"She will come to you when Jacob is a year old," stated Gertrude, staring for a moment at something beyond him, her eyes filled with a light he had never seen before. "She will come to you then, Parker. Promise me, you will not see her, promise me!"

"I promise you, I swear it," replied Parker. "I will do anything you want, my love, anything at all..."

Her eyes grew dimmer, "I am so sorry to leave you..."

"No," replied Parker, terror in his voice. "Don't leave me, don't leave little Jacob..."

"I'm so sorry, Parker," she said softly, closing her eyes. "I'm so sorry Daddy, so sorry Jacob, forgive me...forgive me for what I did..."

"You've done nothing but make me happy, my love," replied Parker, his terror growing as her struggling ceased and her body began to relax.

Ernest bolted through the door and brought the doctor back with him. As the doctor leaned over her, Parker rose, restrained by Alex' hand upon his shoulder. Slowly the doctor turned towards him, his eyes downcast.

"I am sorry, my lord," he whispered. "She is at rest..."

Parker turned and buried his face upon Alex' shoulder; his anguished cries audible throughout the house...

***

Life in court continued, but a grief had descended upon Wharton and no one seemed able to enjoy life as they had before. Marie and Alex continued to work and rule, but no function seemed whole and no parties or celebrations were given beyond those that were most necessary. Donna and Ernest spent a great deal of time with their new godson and his heartbroken Grandfather, but Parker slipped deeper and deeper into depression and they despaired of ever reaching him.

Marie often caught Annalisse looking thoughtfully at the globe upon which Gertrude had instructed her. She seldom spoke of her teacher, but when she did, she always asked Marie, "She is an angel now, just as she always appeared here on earth, isn't she?". Marie would nod and agree, too overwhelmed at the loss to speak.

As the time approached for Jacob's first birthday, Ernest had begged his brother to speak to Parker about allowing him to create a celebration for his small son. Parker could not look at his son except to see his beloved wife and then hold him and weep. While Alex had joined all of them in trying to alleviate Parker's sorrow, he knew that he did not have the words to make him feel any better. Still, Alex went to Parker's home, to THEIR home and spoke to the bereft father.

"I know I should do something, milord," stated Parker, staring up at Alex, looking haggard and haunted. He was unshaved and unkempt and he looked exhausted. "I know that my son's first birthday should be celebrated, but how? How can I consider anything without his mother here to celebrate with me? How?"

Alex shook his head and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. They had often spent evenings speaking well into the night, but the dark depression that had gripped Parker upon Gertrude's death had only become darker and more consuming.

"I have spoken to Ernest and Donna and they would like to have a celebration at Wharton," he whispered. "I ask your permission to do so..."

Parker nodded, "Take him, milord and fete him. He is my heart, milord, or what is left of it...I am dead. I grieve both for my lost love and for my boy. My boy, sire, my boy is being raised in a tomb. My little Jacob is an orphan, his mother dead and his father...dead even as he breathes."

"You must come..."

"No, milord, not even if you order it," snapped Parker. "I cannot celebrate; I cannot raise my voice in joy. My world is dead, my life is over. Take the child and leave me here."

Alex nodded; there was no sense in arguing. Retreating to the little boy's room, he found him cuddled in his nursemaid's arms and preparing them both, he rose and ordered a carriage to bring them to Wharton. Returning to Parker, he found him seated where he had left him, weeping bitterly. How I wish I could say something, anything to comfort him, thought Alex. Feeling helpless and useless, he left Parker to his grief and accompanied the carriage back to the castle.

Both Ernest and Donna were waiting for him and as he helped the nursemaid from the coach. Asking them to prepare the celebration for tomorrow, he informed them that they would have to do so without Parker's participation.

***

Early the next morning, the morning of his son's birthday, Parker rose from a sleepless night and wandered out to the stables. Franz stood quietly by as his master wandered mechanically from horse to horse, reaching out to touch a mane here or pet a nose there. Turning to Franz in a stupor, he spoke to him in a tired voice.

"Get me a horse, Franz, I wish to go for a ride. I cannot be here today, her ladyship said that I must not meet with anyone here today."

Franz stared at him a moment, unsure if he had lost his mind and then quickly ran, returning with the horse he had given Gertrude on that mysterious night that seemed so long ago. Saddling it and placing the bridle in its mouth, he handed the reins to his master, who swung up in the saddle and dashed away.

Spurring the horse, Parker rode like a mad man, through the fields, jumping fences, flying through the forests at breakneck speed. He thought of his beloved, of his promise not to meet with the woman who would seek him out today. His mind was a vast confusion, a jumbling anarchy from which words and thoughts fought for dominance. Suddenly, the words from the Great Book, "...and Death rode close behind..." sprang forth into his mind and he spurred the horse forward. He would race Death, find Death and kill him. He would kill Death and bring his love back, back to him and back to his son. He would meet with no one, see no one until he had killed death and then he would kill the mysterious stranger who would seek him on his son's birthday. He would be prepared, ready to face anything once he had wrestled his love back from Death.

He rode faster and faster, pushing the horse harder and harder, the wind whipping him, the branches of the trees slashing at him, but he would find the devil who had taken his bride, he would find him! Lost in his madness, he saw a small stream ahead and spurred his horse towards it. Leaping over the stream, the horse landed hard and Parker was thrown from the saddle and pitched forward and to the side, landing hard on the embankment on the far side of the stream.

He awoke, staring up at intertwined branches above him, a sweet, familiar scent filling his nose. It was the scent that his Gertrude had worn on that night, that mysterious, forbidden night...

A hand holding a damp cloth floated into his field of vision and descend, a marvelous coolness refreshing his brow. Turning his eyes towards the hand, he looked up into the face of a beautiful woman. Her golden hair, so like his beloved Gertrude's caught the sun and created a halo around her face as she stared down upon him a concerned look upon her features.

"My love?" he asked anxiously.

"You are a forward one, milord," she replied in a sweet, seductive voice, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

As his eyes focused he could see that while she was a woman of great beauty, she was not his beloved Gertrude. She offered him a subtle smile as she dabbed at his face once again.

"How are you feeling, milord?" she asked softly.

"I feel better," he said haltingly, pulling himself up into a seated position. "How do you know who I am?"

The woman looked at him, the wind gently blowing her hair as she spoke.

"Everyone knows the Queen's champion, the great Lord Parker," she replied. "Everyone knows you, milord, and of your pain..."

Parker moved slightly, but was stayed by her hand.

"Careful," she warned, "you took quite a hard tumble. How your horse did not break a leg, I do not know."

He looked up to see the horse drinking quietly at the stream.

"I remember now..." he mused.

"I saw you rampaging across the field and then take your fall," she said softly. "I rushed over and have been tending to you since then, for at least half of an hour. You gave me quite a scare..."

Reaching out, he touched her hair, "Her hair was like yours..."

"Whose hair?" she asked, leaning closer to his face, her scent filling the air and making it difficult to think.

"My love, my lost love," he moaned, looking at her in pain and confusion. She was so lovely, so like his Gertrude, so beautiful, but wait, how could he even acknowledge that? No one could match the true beauty of his Gertrude, the inner beauty that had set his soul on fire...

"She was very beautiful," stated the woman as if reading his thoughts. The light reflected from the stream, striking her features and showing the beauty of her own countenance.

"So very beautiful," he replied softly as he leaned closer. "As beautiful as you..."

The woman smiled and rose, "That is a kind thing to say, milord..."

"It is true," replied Parker, watching the woman's movement, the subtle, graceful movements of her body. "You are very beautiful..." The smell was intoxicating and suddenly he found himself thinking of that night, that night of lust. What would it be like to possess this woman, to make love to her for hours...What was happening to him, he should have been shocked by his own words, by his own thoughts, but something about this woman, something about her....How he longed for Gertrude and yet, here was a woman almost as beautiful. Had he caught death? Was this his love come back from the dead? His head swam; his thoughts unclear.

"If you are all right, I will leave now," stated the woman.

"Do not leave me," he said quickly, so quickly that it startled him as well as her.

"I will stay, milord," she replied, looking at him calmly.

After several deep breaths, he forced himself to his feet and stumbled to a tree, holding onto it for support. The woman waited several minutes before rising and approaching him, her sensual movement awakening feelings within him that he struggled to deny.

"Do you think you can ride?" she asked softly, her scent again filling his nostrils.

"Yes," he replied, gasping slightly. "Yes, I can."

Slowly, he retrieved his horse and drew closer to her, the reins in his hands.

"Where do you live?" he asked, needing to know.

"In the village beyond," she replied, a radiant smile, a smile like his beloved's own, touching his heart. "I live there with my servants."

"And are you married?" he asked. What was he thinking, how could he be thinking these things, feeling these feelings?

Shaking her head, she turned to him, "No, milord, I am not married."

"May I call upon you?" he asked, desperation entering his voice. "To thank you properly..."

"There is no need to do so, milord, but if you wish..." she replied, turning to return to the village. "All you need do is ask anyone in the village, everyone there knows me; they can tell you where to find me...."

"But what is your name?" he asked breathlessly.

The woman smiled over her shoulder as she walked seductively away, "Just tell them that you are searching for Susan..."

###

I would like to thank you for reading "The Queen's Decision", the second book in "The Royal Consort" series. I hope that you have enjoyed this novel and I invite you to let me know what you thought of it. Please feel free to drop me a line via mailto:maczazski@hotmail.com. If you have enjoyed this romance novel, perhaps you would also enjoy some of my other books. In addition to "The Royal Consort" series, I also write the romantic fiction series "Remembering" and have penned a romance novel "The Return" and I hope to produce other works in time. These and all of my books are available at many fine ebook retailers. Thank you again for choosing "The Queen's Decision"; I look forward to hearing from you!

