A/N: Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews! Keeps me writing. Someone asked about Roger, and there is a small scene with him here, but he will play a larger part in the next chapter (and the story). Thanks for reading. :)

Chapter 3

Alanna woke and opened one eye, keeping the other clenched tightly shut against the feeble rays of winter sunlight coming through the windows. She listened carefully, keeping her breathing steady. She heard nothing but the morning bustle outside the castle. Roger had slept in their room last night, and she didn't fancy waking up to him. Just to make sure, she rolled over, slapping a hand on the empty space beside her.

"He's gone…for now."

At the voice, she jumped and nearly tumbled out of the bed. The tangle of sheets and heavy blankets caught her body, and she ended up dangling off the side, propped up by a sea of fabric. After carefully extracting herself from the snare, she narrowed her eyes and searched for the sound of the familiar voice. A small black blur leapt gracefully up onto the bed, coming up to her face and nudging her gently.

"Faithful, you're back!"

Despite his protests, she gathered the cat into her arms and pulled him against her chest in a tight hug. Faithful had started disappearing for extended periods of time ever since her coronation. For a while, she resented him for it, but she knew he wouldn't leave her unless it was absolutely necessary. Nevertheless, she found herself wondering where he had been the last several months.

When she voiced this question, Faithful turned away from her for a single moment, as if he didn't want to answer. It was actions like this that reminded Alanna that he was much more than a simple talking cat, even though talking cats were obviously not simple in their nature. "Faithful," she prompted sternly.

"I've been in the divine realms. The gods seem to be…unhappy…with the current state of things."

Alanna frowned. She hadn't expected the gods to be happy with a man like Roger on the throne, but they had more to worry about than just Tortall. She had not seen the Mother Goddess for some time, but figured that was because she was busy with other things. After all, Alanna wasn't the Mother's only chosen child. Was there something else they were worried about?

She turned back to Faithful. "Care to elaborate?" she asked.

"No."

Alanna would've reeled back in shock, had she not become used to being denied information. It would seem that as queen, she should be more informed of things. However, as it turned out, people were more likely to hide things from you. Still, she had to make a vast effort to squash the stubborn streak in her, which was tempting her to pry the information from the cat anyway. However, she had so many things crowding her head these days that she didn't really want to know what the gods were worried about, lest she accidentally start rambling about the supernatural in the upcoming council meeting. No, if it was pressing enough, Faithful would tell her.

Turning back to the cat, she gave him a small, searing glare before sighing dramatically, "I suppose that's alright. No one tells me anything anymore."

Faithful, in his own odd way, appeared to return her glare before nudging her out of her bed. Grudgingly, she got up and stretched. As she crossed the room to dress, the cat remained lounging on the bed. "Don't pity yourself, it's unbecoming. Besides, things could be much worse at the moment."

Alanna was in the process of pulling on a thick woolen shirt, and her voice came out muffled. "Yes, I believe that's true," her head popped out through the top of the shirt and she continued blandly, "I could be hopelessly in love with the man I married."

As if he had been summoned by their conversation, Alanna heard Roger's voice formally greet the guards outside their room. The heavy wooden door opened just as Alanna finished pulling on a cloak and Faithful jumped down from the bed to join her. As Roger entered, laden with a pile of parchment, he ignored her multiple layers of clothing; even Roger was well aware of her dislike of the frigid winter temperatures. Instead, he immediately fixed his eyes on Faithful as the cat twined himself around Alanna's legs and hissed. She felt her lips twitch in amusement as Roger frowned slightly.

"I see the cat's still alive. Shame."

Alanna pursed her lips. "I see no one murdered you in your sleep, Roger. Pity," she volleyed back.

"And I see that sleep has made you just as amicable as ever," Roger said, plastering a false smile on his face before adding, "Splendid."

Faithful's hissing began to sound suspiciously like laughing. This verbal parrying was not what Alanna had had in mind when she had gotten up that morning, but at least Faithful found it amusing. He trotted past the pair, but paused before he slunk out the door.

"You two bring out the worst in each other. It's nice to know some things haven't changed."

Alanna watched Faithful go, with a very slight feeling of discontent lingering in her at being left alone with Roger. She ignored it, choosing instead to eye the parchment that Roger was setting on the nightstand. "That's not for me, is it?" she asked, the distaste in her voice evident.

Roger stopped halfway on his way to the armoire, looking absently from the pile of documents to his wife. He then raised a single eyebrow, "Since when have I asked you to do paperwork? Besides, this is of little importance to you."

Alanna hesitated, thinking about it. In actuality, Roger rarely even had her do so much as sign an official document. Her anger, so often repressed in recent months, bubbled slightly to the surface. She stomped over and went to grab the first document. She didn't have to read the minor details to know what it was about. Thom had mentioned it to her in private a few weeks prior. She threw the parchment aside, not caring that it was more heavily crumpled than it was before she got her hands on it.

Advancing on Roger, she spoke carefully, trying to keep her temper reigned in, "Not of importance? A decree to raise taxes on wheat, again I might add, is of little importance to me?"

Roger narrowed his eyes, "You are my queen, not —"

Alanna didn't need to hear him finish the sentence for her to lose her temper completely.

"Oh, forgive me. I'd forgotten that as your queen, I'm nothing more than an ornament to placate the masses. Well, I'll tell you —"

"Do not interrupt me. I —"

Soon they were talking loudly, each trying to drown out the other's words. It was impossible to discern what they were even arguing about anymore. It was only the unmistakable sound of a knock on the door that made them stop. Breathing heavily, Alanna turned to the door, "Come in."

She then stared defiantly at Roger as if her ability to give permission to enter their chambers was proof that she was more than an ornamental puppet of a queen. She glanced at Roger's squire, a boy named Bren, as he entered the room. He looked completely unimpressed with the couple's shouting match and simply looked at Roger, ignoring Alanna altogether, "The Prime Minister is waiting for you in your office."

Roger gave the boy a sharp nod, "I'll be there momentarily."

As Bren left the room, Roger turned back to Alanna, a frown quickly twisting his otherwise handsome features. He opened his mouth to speak once more, but seemed to think better of it, for he simply turned his back to her and walked to the armoire in silence.

Roger left quickly after changing his coat. He had the nerve to ask Alanna if she wanted to join him to go over the tax raise. The fact that the lack of her signature would do nothing to prevent the passing of the decree left a sour taste in her mouth. Seething, she pulled on her boots and stalked to the door.

Before leaving, Roger had informed Alanna that her presence would be required at a council meeting later in the afternoon. Despite her lack of power, her presence was required at certain discussions. It wasn't something she was looking forward to, but she had long since learned that she couldn't avoid the meetings. Nonetheless, she was determined to make the most of her free time before the meeting. She quickly grabbed a piece of bread from her breakfast tray on the table and left. Her first destination was a mere minute from her rooms.

Walking along the corridor, she chewed on the bread and absentmindedly ran a hand along the elegant tapestry hanging on the wall. It depicted a large shield bearing the Conté heraldry in blue and silver. She paused for a moment. How can the same symbol represent such different men?, she thought. Instantly, a pang of longing ran through her as she thought of her missing best friend. She made a mental note to once again try to contact Jonathan when she had the chance. This thought calmed her somewhat and she continued down the hall. As she turned the corner into the Royal Nursery, Alanna found herself looking at Thayet.

The woman looked up as Alanna walked further into the room and smiled, "Linette just left for a moment. I was keeping her company."

Alanna made a face. Linette was the wet nurse that had been hired to feed the twins. Alanna hadn't been against the idea in the beginning, for the first year of her reign had been relentlessly chaotic. When Roald and Marinie were born, she hadn't been granted the time to nurse them. She liked to tell herself that it hadn't had anything to do with her temporary mixed feelings regarding her children. Luckily, she had moved past her dislike for Roger and eventually found herself enamored with the small twins she had brought into the world. She had also, unfortunately, developed a small grudge against the wet nurse for being close to the twins in a way she couldn't.

Thayet shook her head, the smile growing wider on her face, "She's not all that awful, Alanna. Besides, she's just doing the job you hired her to do. You're being irrational in your dislike."

Alanna grunted, a habit she hadn't been able to scrap in spite of being a queen, "A decision I regret. However, I never once claimed to be a rational person."

"Well, you're quite rational in your dislike for Roger."

Alanna looked up sharply before glancing around the room to make sure there was no one around to hear Thayet's comment. While Alanna's ill feelings toward the king were common knowledge amongst some, the servants had a way of spreading gossip like no other. Satisfied that no one had overheard, she threw up a flare of violet magic to ward the room just in case. She then turned and frowned at her friend, "Words like that don't go over well these days, Thayet. You know that. Besides, I didn't come here to discuss Roger. I came for my children."

Thayet looked at Alanna, an odd look on her face, as if contemplating something. Finally, she took a gentle step forward, "You've changed, Alanna. Your edges…they're sharper than they used to be."

Alanna nodded mutely, biting her lip. She knew she had changed, she knew she was a bit more jaded and harder than she used to be. She just didn't know how she could have avoided changing without sacrificing her wellbeing in the process. At loss for what to say in response to Thayet, she crossed the room over to where the two cribs stood, side by side. Looking down, she smiled. It was still hard to tell which features had been inherited from which parent, but the dark, almost black hair and violet eyes were dead giveaways. Although they were just under nine months old, their eyes had settled early into a striking shade of purple. In spite of everything she hated about the situation, it was their eyes that had struck a chord in Alanna. It was their eyes, when they had settled, that had reminded her that they were hers — and she didn't intend to let them go.

She caressed each sleeping child's cheek in turn, almost forgetting that Thayet was there. Roald opened his eyes and gurgled a little, and Alanna picked him up gently and settled into a nearby chair, holding him in her arms. Suddenly she frowned, and remembering Thayet, she softly gave voice to the thoughts that had been troubling her for weeks.

"What will become of them, Thayet? What happens to children of such a loveless marriage?"

Her friend frowned, her beauty only slightly diminished by the gesture, "Your marriage may be lacking affection, amongst other things, but all that's important right now is that you love them as much as you can."

"I don't have enough love for two people," Alanna said, although she knew without a doubt that she had never loved anyone quite as much as she loved the twins. Love was a hard concept for her to grasp, even more so in times like this. The people she loved were scattered about, half of them despising her for the actions she had taken to protect her country. They believed that she had married Roger for power or the title of Queen. She would never have married for power or a position in Court, her rejection of Jonathan's earlier proposal was proof of that. Furthermore, couldn't they understand that you didn't marry a man like Roger if you wanted any power for yourself?

Her thoughts began to run rampant, reminding her of all the people she had lost in some way. There was Jon, who was wandering somewhere unknown, but hopefully still alive. Gary, Raoul, Liam, Myles…and George. She knew from her sources that George had left Corus and was residing in Port Caynn, but she'd had little contact with the man that had been her steady friend for so many years. George was her rock, and she felt lost without him and everyone else.

"Alanna?"

She glanced up at the sound of her name, realizing that Thayet had been speaking the whole time. "I'm sorry, I'm just…I'm just a little out of sorts today, Thayet. What did you say?"

Thayet gave her a worried glance before repeating herself, "I know what it's like to have parents who have clashing ideals. I know what it's like to have a war mongrel for a father. I think I turned out ok, don't you?"

Alanna's worries about the twins lightened considerably at this, and she could look down at Roald with a little less concern in her eyes. She had almost forgotten Thayet's dark family history. It was hard to remember darkness when faced with such a beautiful person. "You turned out more than 'ok' I believe."

The two women talked for a good amount of time after that, discussing everything from the court to Faithful's return. After Thayet left, Alanna held Marinie and was reassured that both the twins were fine and healthy. As she settled her daughter back into her crib, Linette showed up from her break to take care of them once more. At the sight of the queen, Linette sank into a deep curtsy, "Your Majesty."

In spite of her grudge against the woman, Alanna was in a good mood and smiled at her, "Hello, Linette. Look, I apologize for my shortness with you in the past…I just — "

Linette interrupted her, her native customs different from Tortallan ones. She, apparently, had no problem cutting off the words of a royal. Shocked, and slightly bemused, Alanna listened to the woman. Her accent was heavy and bespoke of her Maren heritage, speaking with heavy emphasis on the vowels. "You are worried that I'm taking your place," the nurse walked as she spoke, heading over to the crib to check the twins. "I see it in your eyes when you look at me. But fear not, my Lady, I just nurse them. You, you gave them life and love them how only a mother can love her children. I cannot replace that, even if I wanted to."

Alanna bit her lip. It was frightening how spot on the nurse's words were. Whatever lingering dislike she had for the woman in front of her, it disappeared at that moment. Thanking Linette with a genuine smile, Alanna set out to find Coram. It seemed that today would be a good day, or at least a reassuring one.

She sought out her old servingman in the indoor training yard. During the winter months, many of the soldiers took advantage of the indoor courts in order to avoid the cold and snow. Alanna didn't blame them at all. As she approached, Faithful rejoined her, trotting at her heels. The area was a riot of sounds and sights. Swords clashed, and the ringing sounds of metal on metal filled the air. Men worked with other various weapons. Staffs twirled and arrows were loosed into targets that people had strung up on a far wall. A rather large amount of inaccurate swinging and lunging came from the pages' section of the large room.

She eyed a rather hopeless looking lad, grasping the sword awkwardly as he swung it at his opponent. Perhaps "swung" was too proper a word. His actions were more like a desperate flailing of steel and limb. Hopefully, he would have a good amount of time before he was fighting any real battles, so Alanna wasn't too concerned. In fact, she couldn't help but smile a little, reminded of her rather dreadful swordsmanship in her page days. She'd come far since those days, only she had meant to become only a knight, not the Queen of Tortall. However, since she was the queen, she would mention getting a more skilled man hired to train the pages. There hadn't been as good a trainer as Arram Sklaw or Duke Gareth in a long time.

She mulled over these thoughts as she made her way over to the groups of general soldiers, her boots scuffing slightly on the stone floor. She ignored the many stares she was receiving. They could be for a multitude of reasons — her mere presence in the training yards and courts had been explicitly forbidden by Roger ages ago. However, she wasn't here to train, she was here to talk. Although, the discussion would most likely be a worse offense in Roger's eyes than her training with the sword. Thinking of the other activities she had planned for the day, she laughed. She was turning into quite the rebel.

"We take our training seriously here, Your Majesty. Battle readiness is no laughing matter. And I see yer cat is back."

Alanna looked up at the sound of the voice, smiling. She hadn't realized that she'd already reached her destination. "Coram!" she greeted, shooting a swift glance at Faithful who was swiping a paw at a rack of weapons, "Yes, he showed up this morning. Scared me right out of bed." She looked back at her old servingman, "And I wasn't laughing at you, I was actually laughing at myself and how things have turned out."

Coram raised a single bushy eyebrow, "Yerself? How things have turned out? Now that's definitely no laughing matter."

"No, I suppose not," Alanna said with a brittle smile. She felt her good feelings flee until she was left hollow. It wasn't Coram's fault. Happiness in general had a shorter lifespan now, she had found. She sought out Coram's eyes, "Speaking of non-laughing matters, have you heard any news?"

It went without saying just what type of news she was seeking. Coram gave the general area a furtive glance before looking back at his queen. "This is not the place for that type of discussion, lass. You know that. Too many eyes and ears out here with questionable loyalties."

She followed Coram's shifting gaze and found him focusing on a group of knights that she had passed earlier. Among them were Geoffrey of Meron and Douglass of Veldine, both old year-mates of hers. Also practicing with them was Henrim of Tirrsmont. She'd had little to no interaction with her two old friends, but she knew that Douglass at least was loyal to Jon. He had remained behind in Corus, but acted as one of a few informants for the rebellion. Geoffrey and Henrim, however, were a different matter. As Alex's old squire, Geoffrey's loyalties were unknown. As a Tirrsmont, it was generally believed that Henrim was loyal to Roger.

She knew that Coram and other members of the rebellion probably knew a little more about loyalties, but she herself didn't know very much. Her life was a constant guessing game, trying to figure out whose side everyone was one. She wished the members of the rebellion would tell her more, but she was aware that just knowing of the rebellion was a dangerous bit of knowledge for someone so close to Roger to hold. In the mind of the rebellion, and of those who thought her to be a traitor, the less she knew the better.

Coram looked at her with sympathy, "I can tell you this. Something's afoot with the Bazhir. Ask Buri, maybe she'll tell you more."

Alanna sighed. She was basically on a scavenger hunt, searching down tidbits of information that she should already know. She gave Coram a swift hug. It was improper, yes, for a queen to be hugging a mere soldier, but proprieties be damned. She would love the people she loved, for she didn't know if and when she'd lose them. "Thanks, Coram."

She began to walk away, but turned swiftly when she had a thought. "Come and see the twins sometime, I'll give the guards your name and description. They'll let you in. Besides, you know babes better than I do, maybe you can give me some advice."

Coram smiled warmly, "I will, lass, thank you. Be careful, now. Dangerous times are afoot."

Alanna's lips twisted into a wry expression, "Since when have they been anything but?"

Walking back towards the main area of the palace, Alanna couldn't help but smile grimly. She knew she had little power when it came to most of the political decision at the moment, but she was not bereft of all her power. She narrowed her eyes and quickened her pace, Faithful following close behind. It was time to break some more of Roger's rules.