Chapter 4: Afternoon Interactions

We stayed at Lake Orrinic for a few hours, talking before heading back to the castle. Out of all seven, Rosie was the most interested in learning about the citadel because she admired me the most, therefore she wondered what exactly I did when I was gone. But ever since that traumatic incident when she discovered her flying ability, she has shunned testing the limits of her sorcerer side. I hoped she wold fully recover from the incident, and I would do anything to help.

When we returned home it was lunchtime. I joined my kids at the table for a while, but then I decided to stay in my chamber to study the material covered at the citadel. I must study during the day and night or else I'd fall behind and Orne would lecture me about it being my family's fault. While that was mostly true (the rare months I did fall behind), I still didn't want him throwing it in my face all the time. Sometimes I wished he wasn't so blunt. Sure, his bluntness was helpful when applied to testing my abilities as a sorcerer, but I wished he would lay off the family topic for once. However, his lectures about my personal life have lessened every year since the Great Monster War.

Hours later I needed a break from my studies, so I played with Eliza until she fell asleep. I wanted to see Daria, since I didn't get the chance to visit with her in the morning. Her door was open, so I entered unannounced; she did not mind. Daria was sitting on a pastel pink satin pillow she had placed on the floor and was wearing a matching dress. The walls were pastel pink and the carpet was hot pink. Practically everything in the chamber was an array of pink.

"Hi, Father," she said sweetly, without lifting her head. She was concentrating on her bead embroidery.

I took one of the many pillows piled at the top of her crowded bed and joined her on the floor. I was too lazy at the moment to summon a cloud to be my pillow.

With disappointed eyes, Daria looked up at me and said, "But I want to sit on a cloud pillow. They're softer," she stated as she flipped her medium-length curls she inherited from Lionel's mother, over her shoulder.

I inwardly groaned and advanced to the open window. I summoned two clouds to enter, and then I shaped them into pillows. Holding out a pillow, I said, "Come get your pillow."

Daria hopped up and took the pillow. "I love these things! They're so much softer than regular pillows. Thank you, Father!" She pranced back to her spot and dropped onto the pillow.

I followed and did the same with less enthusiasm.

She turned to me and asked, "Can you make them rain?"

I looked at her with disbelief. "Why do you want me to make them rain? They'll drench the floor," I laughed.

She giggled. "Because it would be funny!"

Her strange logic amused me. Smiling, I shook my head and added, "I'm not going to make them rain. I would never give anyone such a pillow."

Daria continued giggling at her suggestion.

Pointing, I looked at her project and asked, "What are you embroidering this time?"

"A coin purse," she replied proudly. "See?" She held it up.

The small purse was the size of my palm and had a drawstring on top. The colorful beaded flowers popped against the black background. I recognized the embroidered flowers; they were from the garden. Her embroidery looked so intricate. I didn't see how both Addie and Daria did embroidery so well. Both of them tried numerous times teaching me the tedious art. It didn't work. My embroidery was more tangle than stitch.

"It's beautiful," I remarked, turning it in my hands. I gave it back to her. "You're a sorcerer with thread and beads, Daria."

Her fair cheeks flushed. "Thank you," she murmured. "They're not very good. Mother is better."

Humble just like Addie. Those were the exact words Addie said the first conversation we shared after I complimented her embroidery.

"But they're very good," I said, exactly the same way I said to Addie when she was twelve. "Besides, you also have a gift for baking, something your mother can't do," I added, trying to reassure her.

Uncomfortable with the praise, she changed the subject. "I have your birthday present picked out," she stated ecstatically.

I leaned closer to her. "What is it?" I asked, not really wanting an answer.

"I'm not telling!" she giggled.

Grinning, I warned, "You better tell me or I'm going to—" I quickly tickled her sides.

Daria burst out in a laughing frenzy. She laughed so hard her face reddened and her eyes filled with tears of glee. When she was smaller, we would play tickle monster, but now that she was older, I passed the game on to the twins and saved the occasional tickles with Daria for times like these. "Don't!" she cried in a playful protest. "Stop!"

"'Don't stop?'" I quoted her words, fully aware of what she really meant. "All right." I kept tickling my most ticklish child.

"No!" she cried, laughing. "Stop, I'm going to die!"

Her exaggeration made me laugh while tickling her. Dramatic just like me.

Eventually, she ran out of breath, so I stopped and sat on my cloud pillow again. I could tell I was red from laughing too. As she resumed embroidering, upon request, I told her about the battle at the Aisnan Valley for what seemed like the hundredth time. She loved stories, especially fantastical ones. When it came to adventures, she wanted to have them but not slay the dragon. Leave adventuring to the hero, was her mentality. She longed to be the damsel in distress. I hoped one day she will find a hero to sweep her off her feet.

After visiting with Daria, I passed by the music hall, where I heard R.J. singing with his resonant baritone voice, while playing the lute I found at the citadel. I gave it to him for his sixteenth birthday—the big one for Bamarrians, because sixteen was considered a milestone. The lute I gave him always played in tune and never needed maintenance. According to R.J., it was the best gift I had ever given him.

I entered while he was still singing, facing away from me, and sat on a pew. I could tell he was feeling the music by the way he was swaying. That was what I liked about his performances: He would get lost in the music. I enjoyed seeing people come alive when they sang or clashed swords. The type of art mattered not; passion was passion.

When he finished I applauded.

I saw him jump. He obviously wasn't expecting an audience. R.J. spun around. "Oh," he uttered. "Hello, Father. Have you been there long?"

"No," I replied, "but long enough to hear your wonderful singing."

He smiled modestly, and I saw Addie in him. "Thank you."

"Well," I said, standing up, "I just came in to hear you sing for a bit." I started side-hovering to get out of the pew.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow?" he asked.

I couldn't recall Addie telling me to do something. "I don't think so. Why?"

"I want to give you your birthday present in advance, but your schedule needs to be open because my present isn't at the castle."

Now I was curious, but I'd be patient. I was certain that whatever he had planned I would adore and cherish it for years to come. R.J. was good at giving gifts. It must have been from his desire to bring joy to others. Like father, like son. "I look forward to it." I made it out of the pew.

Before I had the chance to exit, R.J. said, "Are we still meeting in your study tonight for Matilda and me to hear the story?"

I nodded. "Yes." I was glad he remembered. "Come after the twins are asleep," I instructed.

R.J. nodded. "See you then."

The rest of the day was uneventful. I played with the twins before going to the training grounds to watch Meryl practice. She may not have liked my appearances at her practices, but I went anyway to show support. Meryl may have shunned me, but I would never do the same to her. I loved her too much, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

The training session ended. The knights and soldiers shook hands and laughed with each other, Meryl included. One young knight embraced her, whereas another kissed her cheek. It was her sweetheart, Sir Edward. Being a knight, he was in his twenties, which we didn't mind as long as he was a gentleman, and he was also Lord George's son. I would say they might get married, however, her courting history said otherwise. Unlike me, Meryl had already been in three relationships before Edward. Settling down was not her style.

Edward spied me sitting on the spectators' seats and waved.

Meryl looked up and did nothing. Not a wave or a smile.

I knew better than to wave at her. Once I saw her leave, I left. She was returning to the castle for dinner.

Usually when Addie went somewhere, she was back around dinnertime. The servants informed me she had returned home. I wanted to visit with her privately before dinner was served. Yes, we are dedicated parents, but we also wanted to maintain our bond by taking advantage of all private moments we had time for. Privacy was a rare, precious thing we treasured as a royal couple and parents of seven children. We treasured it so much we arranged date nights once a month to keep the romance alive in our marriage. Most royal marriages were arranged and loveless, but not ours. We took the Bamarrian marriage oaths seriously, not wanting us to become a "married but single" couple.

As I went to her chamber, my flame burned hotter. Even after eighteen years, seeing her still excited me. She was my best friend and lover, and I hers. We had so many great memories together throughout the years. Sometimes I wished she had more free time like when she was the princess, but deep down I knew it wasn't feasible now that she was queen. I was proud of her for being a devoted sovereign to her kingdom.

Since we're husband and wife, I entered her chamber without knocking and saw her sitting in a chair, feeding Eliza.

Looking up at me, she said, "Good evening, Husband."

I drifted to her. "Good evening, Wife."

We kissed.

"How fare the children today?" she asked.

"They were well. I went to Lake Orrinic with Rosie after breakfast."

Addie tilted her head with interest. "She went to the lake with you?"

"Yes," I replied, smiling.

Addie smiled back at me with relief. "That's good. Hopefully that means she's recovering."

For the longest time Rosie refused to go to Lake Orrinic to avoid re-experiencing the terrible memory. She recently stopped associating the lake with her fear, but she still firmly associated flying with fright.

I frowned. I hated how Rosie shunned the thing I liked most about my species. Flying while carrying her was something special we shared for years until she was eleven when the incident happened.

Addie knew why I was frowning. She was very good at reading me. "I know you want her to fly again, whether it's with you or by herself, but you have to remember she had a traumatic experience."

I sighed. I understood what she meant, but I still didn't like it. "I know," I murmured. "It's just that I miss those days when I would take Rosie flying over Bamarre when she was small. She loved it," I said, remembering the laughs we had shared in the sky. "And even though she had that unpleasant experience, I was still ecstatic when I found out she inherited my flying ability." Before having children, I secretly wished my offspring would be able to fly.

Addie placed a sympathetic hand on my arm. "I know it hurts, darling. Just give it time," she urged. "I'm sure someday Rosie will want to fly with you again. She loves you dearly. You're her best friend and hero."

I knew she was right about how Rosie felt about me, but giving it time was easier said than done. Excluding the twins, I felt like my children mainly took up after their human side, which made sense because they were born with blood-pumping hearts and a need for food and sleep. Sometimes, because their humanity was so prominent, I felt like I was their adopted father.

"I assume you recorded that incident in your journal."

She was correct. I responded with a slight nod. I was still upset and Addie could tell. "I feel like the kids are yours and I'm their adopted father," I mumbled, eyes focused on the paisley-patterned magenta carpet.

Stroking my arm, Addie said, "Rhys, look at me."

I complied.

"I know it's easy for me to say that because I gave birth to them. But you are their father no matter what abilities from you they have or lack. Your legacy lives on in them." Addie made a come hither motion.

I obeyed by bending over.

She placed a loving hand under my chin and stared into my eyes. "You are a wonderful father. Don't ever doubt your importance in their lives. All right?"

Her words of encouragement moved me deeply. Addie had a silver tongue with me. Whenever I was down, Addie was always there to lift my spirits with her loving words. She patted my cheek and said, "No more sad thoughts."

I covered her hand with mine and smiled.

Eliza finally finished nursing.

Addie stood and passed Eliza to me. "Hold her while I find something else to wear," she instructed.

Holding our precious infant daughter, I sat down in the chair.

While she searched through the wardrobe, I remembered the dressing incident from our honeymoon and chuckled.

She looked over her shoulder. "What's so funny?"

"I'm just remembering how at Queen Seema's castle you were afraid of disrobing in front of me," I replied, still chuckling.

Addie slipped on a simple, long-sleeved, royal purple gown with gold trimmings. I remembered back when she was a maiden how she would wear drab colors. My influence probably helped change her color palate to jewel tones and brighter colors. "But can you blame me? I was still adjusting to my new role as a wife. Princesses are raised to be proper ladies. Disrobing in front of a man is forbidden."

Her logic made sense... to her. I decided to drop the matter. I caught her looking at her stomach, sulking. I knew exactly what she was thinking, and I didn't like it. "Addie, stop it," I chastised.

She rubbed her small stomach pooch, still sulking. "It's getting bigger," she whined. "I'm fat."

I was baffled by her harsh criticism toward herself. "'Fat?'" I quoted. "You're being too hard on yourself. You just had a baby four months ago... and it was your seventh after having twins," I reasoned. There was no way she was going to shrink back down to her teenage size.

"I know," she murmured, easing her hands down. "It's just that you have barely changed and now I'm fat."

She was not fat! Why did human women criticize themselves over ridiculous things? Why couldn't they ever see their own beauty? That was something I noticed about Addie throughout the years. Ironically, when she was a teenager, she complained that her lanky figure was too boyish for me, and now almost twenty years later, she complained about the opposite. Human women are perplexing! "Addie, you're not fat. All I see is the beautiful mother of my children," I reassured her, perhaps in vain, but I still tried. "And you knew I was barely going to age throughout our marriage when you accepted my proposal." Then I had an idea.

Before she could walk away, still holding Eliza, I flew to her so intensely that she stepped back until she bumped into the closed wardrobe and gazed into my determined eyes. Placing my left hand eye level on the wardrobe, I purred, "You are my fantasy." I kissed her boldly. "And every year that fantasy grows and grows."

Addie turned red and smiled broadly. I could tell that I had fulfilled one of my many duties as a husband by lifting her spirits. She must have started to feel nervous because she blinked rapidly and took Eliza from me. I would never understand how she could make men tremble with just one look, yet I could make her cower from my bold displays of affection. But usually she cowered when I showed my affection in front of our children. However, when we were alone, my wife could be a sultry vixen.

Dropping my hand, we went to the dining hall to have dinner with our kids.