Author's Note: After 65 chapters (seriously, count 'em), it feels really weird to be actually resolving problems and wrapping this saga up.
This chapter is kind of episodic in nature; moreso than many other chapters in this Book have been. I don't think it's quite as choppy and Frankensteined as the last chapter was, but if you feel like it skips around a bit… yeah, kinda.
I have some images gathered for what people are wearing, particularly during the trial scenes. If you're interested, shoot me a message. But all you really need to know is that Regina and Arianrhod now have Dafydd wearing formal military uniforms, and it is Good.
Warning: There's blood in the first couple of scenes of this chapter, because after all we did just survive a pitched and desperate battle, and lots of named characters got injured (one of them quite seriously). Nothing is specifically described, aside from there being a lot of blood, but I wanted to give you a warning anyways, just in case.
Special Thanks: As always, thanks to my wonderful beta Ranguvar27 for the beta job.
As she walked up the dais, the intricately carved throne was all Regina could see. Carved of the same blue-veined marble as her (original) foundation stone, it had been months since she had sat in it, or felt the pulse of the Heart flowing up through the marble to fill her with its wisdom. Jack had spent months sitting on her throne in her stead, imposing his own rule on her country. Had the Darkness infected her throne, too? Would she be safe as she sat there, or would she once again fall victim to the Darkness and the Madness that came with it?
No fear, she reminded herself, focusing on the comforting weight of her gold and amethyst crown. Whatever her worries, she supposed they didn't really matter now, did they? She was the Queen of Crims, chosen and re-chosen by the Heart. If the Darkness tried to infect Crims through her, well… She would figure out some way to combat that. This crown, this throne… They were hers. She wasn't giving them up again; not to Jack, and certainly not to some semi-sentient shadow force.
Drawing a long, slow breath, she ascended the final step and sat down on her throne.
For the briefest moment when her eyes lit on her former husband, Regina faltered, her fingers trembling on the marble arms of her throne as a hint of the Chill raced up her spine. Even though Jack was restrained in Dafydd's ironclad grip, and though he was surrounded by her loyal Fearail who all had their swords bared and trained on him, there was no stopping the fury and hostility in Jack's icy eyes. Chains or no, this was still the husband who had dosed her with a deadly cocktail of Teas for months, and driven her to Madness. He was still the man who had brutalized her by night, and disempowered her by day. He was still her enemy, and she still feared him.
But, she reminded herself, it was all over now. She and the Heart had taken her power back from Jack and the Darkness. Dafydd had secured the palace from the Albion. Jack was nothing, now; he couldn't hurt her anymore. He was a criminal, and a prisoner, while she was (finally) married to the love of her life, and Queen.
"I believe it was your mother who decreed 'sentence first, verdict afterwards'," she said cooly.
"Are you going to order 'off with my head'?" Jack asked, looking up at her sullenly.
"No," she replied shortly, gripping the arms of her throne. "That would be against my Vows. Neither will I order you banished. I've noticed that those who are banished to the Outlands never seem to stay there," she said drily as her Outlandish bodyguards chuckled, and Dafydd smirked at her. "You are going to stand trial for your crimes against me, against Crims, against Marmoreal, and against Underland. Until the High Queen sets the date, you will be imprisoned in the North Tower, where once you imprisoned me."
"I think not, Regina," Alice said, striding forward with a grim look on her face, made all the more fierce by the bleeding cut along her hairline.
Regina blinked in confusion. "Mama?"
"On my authority as High Queen, I will not allow you to imprison Jack anywhere in your vicinity," Alice declared. "He is clearly a danger to you, not to mention Crims, and himself. I will take custody of him."
"I… Yes, Mother," Regina said, trying (and rather failing) not to sound sheepish.
With an authoritative nod, Alice turned to Dafydd, raising an expectant eyebrow. Was it Regina's imagination, or did Dafydd legitimately pout as he handed Jack over? Alice's smile was decidedly dangerous as she watched two of her Clubs secure Jack's bonds.
"Yes, that should do it," Alice nodded. "Now then, General," she said, turning to face Dafydd. "I will leave half of my forces at your disposal to aid in the clean-up effort. Pray return them when you bring my daughter to Witzend for Jack's trial."
Dafydd inclined his head, shooting Jack a burning glare (which Jack was more than happy to return). Alice rolled her eyes at Regina in a very clear response of, "control your men." Then she spun around on her heel, leading her troops out of the hall.
Regina sighed in relief as Jack was marched away, and Dafydd climbed up the stairs to take his place at her right shoulder. Now that Jack was confined and Dafydd was home, she could begin to reclaim the palace. She would remove all trace of Jack, and maybe someday it would be as though he had never been here. She would exorcise him from the country, from the castle, and maybe, hopefully, from her psyche.
"The castle is secure?" she asked her Fearail.
"It is, your Majesty," Cefin reported as he entered the hall. "The Albion and Cards have all been disarmed and contained. Rhys has his company and mine occupied with the injured."
Regina didn't flinch, but she did draw a slow inhale. "Were there very many wounded?"
"Yes, my Queen," Cefin said grimly. "The Albion and Nobles were fighting for a long time before we got here."
"Deaths?" Regina asked faintly.
Cefin nodded silently. This time, she did flinch, keeping her eyes closed for a long minute as that news lay heavily on her conscience.
"I'm sure Rhys is moving them to the Healers' suite. Send for Healers from the city," she ordered. "Dafydd, please ask your mathair if she'll come from Tearmunn. We'll prepare the Summer Vale for the burials," she added, referring to a small valley outside the city that was commonly used for funerary rites.
Dafydd laid a hand on her shoulder, his thumb stroking the back of her neck as he squatted beside her throne. "This wasn't your fault, Gia," he murmured.
She shook her head. "I should have come up with a plan that wouldn't cause so much bloodshed. When Mary said she'd create a distraction for me, I didn't think-"
"There was going to be a fight, cariad, no matter what," he cut her off, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. "You haven't broken your Vow."
She swallowed hard. "Yes I have," she whispered hoarsely. "I attacked Lily, Dai. Twice. I threatened the Doctor."
Dafydd's eyebrows rose. "Well, the Doctor probably deserved it," he said drily.
"And Lily?" Regina asked hopelessly.
"Some days, Lily deserves it too," Dafydd said.
"Dafydd!" Regina chided, hitting his shoulder.
"Ow!" He laughed, rocking back on his heels. "You know I'm right."
"You're incorrigible," she informed him.
"S'why you married me," he replied, knocking their foreheads together.
Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile as he leaned forward to kiss her. Would there ever come a day when their marriage felt like a fact, not a dream?
"It'll be alright, dearbadan-de," he told her softly. "Underland will understand."
She laced her fingers with his and wished she could believe him.
Sighing heavily, her attention drifted to the Albion. Here, at least, was a situation she could fix.
"Where is Captain Duff?" she asked.
"Uh… Dead, m'lady," Trev replied rather sheepishly, shifting so she could see the body. "There was a duel. Your mathair got involved."
Regina glanced up at Dafydd, who shrugged unrepentantly. Only just barely keeping from rolling her eyes, she returned her attention to the Albion.
"Who is your second-in-command, then?" she asked.
"Not here," one of them replied. "Duff sent him outside."
"I can fetch him if you want," Trev offered.
"Please," Regina nodded. "Dafydd, if I could have a moment."
Without waiting for his response, Regina stood and walked behind her throne, crossing the back of the dais to where one curtain hung loose (so that was where her Fearail had found rope to restrain Jack). As she slipped behind the curtain, she laid a hand over her heart, cautiously sensing for the heart-bond she shared with Dafydd, cataloguing the dark anger and pouding drums of his Madness. She'd seen the Battlelust burning in his eyes when she walked into the hall; that needed to be dealt with quickly, before he did something regrettable.
She stood pliant as Dafydd turned her, pushing her into the wall before framing her face with his calloused hands. And then he was kissing her, punishing and demanding; the kiss of Madness. It was fairly terrifying to be in his grasp when he was lost to his Madness like this; they'd been in this position before, and that Day hadn't ended well for either of them.
But she couldn't let him know she was frightened; she had to pull him back to sanity, and preferably before he rejected her and broke their hearts again. So, instead of trying to escape his fury, she submitted to him, standing on her very most tippytoes and sliding her arms around his neck. He growled in satisfaction, kissing her even more fiercely as her hands stroked along his taut shoulders. She whimpered quietly, melting into him as she caressed him, simultaneously soothing him and checking for injuries.
She felt more than saw the moment when he began to relax; she felt his shoulders easing, felt the tension leaving his back and jaw. She hummed in approval, fingers stroking his beard-covered jaw and cheekbones, softly soothing the beast until he was calm again.
"It's alright," she said softly, running her hands through his hair. "We're both alright, everything's fine. Shhh, ma taavi. Come back to me."
Dafydd sighed wearily, resting his head atop hers. "You're bleeding, Gia."
"It wasn't Jack. I took a tumble into a rose bush," she assured him. "I'm alright. We're safe."
Dafydd sighed again, in relief this time. He slid his arms around her waist, cradling her and their unborn child.
"I told you you'd get in trouble without me," he grumbled.
"You have no room to talk anymore," she replied, holding up her hand so he could see the blood slicking her palm.
"Huh," he said distantly, only now registering the pain from the knife wound. "Forgot about that."
"Mhm," she said, eyes narrowing.
Gently pushing the hulking moron back, she smoothed down her dress and hair before stepping back up onto the dais and into the view of everyone in the hall.
"Cefin, Dafydd's injured," she rose her voice, settling back down on her throne.
"Of course he is, the hulking moron," Cefin equitably replied, strolling forward and pulling the basic healing supplies out of his pack which all of the Fearail carried.
Dafydd grumbled, but submitted to having the wound patched when Regina glared at him.
"I suppose it's too much to hope that you'll actually spend the next few days resting in bed," Cefin said with a long-suffering sigh.
"No, he will," Regina declared, folding her arms as her eyes burned caramel with anger and gold (Fates, Dafydd was glad to see her eyes turn gold again). "I will make him."
Dafydd smirked down at her with a lascivious leer. "Are you going to keep me company, dearbadan-de?"
She blushed prettily, but nodded mulishly. "I'll do what needs to be done to keep you from pulling your stitches."
His smirk deepened. True, he hated being an invalid. But if he got to spend a few days in bed with his wife… Well, he'd be Mad to pass that chance up. Dafydd was many things, but he was not the one in this marriage who had frequent issues with Madness.
He leaned in for another kiss, more settled now that he was sure Regina was (mostly) alright. He pouted when she pulled away after only a short peck, tossing Cefin and the Albion's second-in-command an annoyed glare. Later, he promised himself; as soon as Regina was finished with issuing clean-up orders, he was taking her upstairs and keeping her very, very busy.
Regina drew a fortifying breath, raising her chin and getting back to business. "What is your name?" she asked the soldier.
"Duncan," he replied shortly.
"You and your men turned your swords on unarmed civilians, Duncan," she said, her voice steely and cold. "The very people you were tasked to protect. I would be well within my rights to have you all imprisoned."
Duncan's eyes darkened, but a glance at his captain's body apparently reminded him to mind his manners.
"We did as the King ordered," he said.
"Do you think that absolves you, saying you did it under orders?" Regina scoffed.
"The King was clear when we signed up, Lady," Duncan muttered. "If we disobeyed, we'd die, and our families would suffer."
Regina leaned back in her throne, considering that. Sadly, she could believe that Jack would employ such terrible tactics to ensure his men's loyalty. The Albion had still done terrible things, both today and in the last several months, but if they were victims of Jack's just as much as everyone else…
"Why didn't you rebel yourselves?" Dafydd asked from where he stood at Regina's side. "I know Jack hasn't paid you in months. If you'd walked away, how could he have enforced his orders?"
"The Cards," Duncan replied. "He has hands in all our villages. A word from him, and our people are dead."
"And if I were to pay you what Jack owed?" Regina asked. "Would you go home peacefully?"
Duncan glanced back at his men before looking back up at Regina. "Aye, I imagine some would," he nodded. "But the rest of us… We've no way to earn but to sell our swords."
Regina looked up at Dafydd, asking a silent question. He scrunched his face in thought, before nodding once. Regina smiled faintly, then inclined her head toward the crowd, allowing him to make the declaration.
"And if we offered to let you stay?" he asked, folding his arms.
Duncan laughed derisively. "We were fighting you five minutes ago, Outlander. Why should we trust you now?"
"Because he is my King and my Champion," Regina interjected, blithely ignoring the surprised mutters from the Albion. "And if my Ace of Hearts decides to extend you an offer to be absorbed into his army, then I will of course yield to his decision. I would much rather have more soldiers to ensure my country's safety than prisoners in my dungeons."
Duncan looked back at his men again, before nodding his acceptance of the arrangement. Regina nodded once in recognition.
"Let any of the Albion who wish to enlist into the Army do so," she stated. "The rest will be given their pay and allowed to travel to their homes."
As Cefin and his men escorted the Albion out of the hall, Dafydd leaned against the top of the throne and raised an eyebrow at her.
"I hope you're not expecting me to let them join the Fearail," he said.
Regina made a face. "Of course not. The Fearail are the Queensguard. Clan only, by order of the Duke of Tearmunn. But isn't it better to have them near, where you can keep an eye on them and make sure they don't cause more trouble?"
Dafydd raised an eyebrow in acquiescence. Now just when had Regina gotten that thread of steel in her voice? And since when had she become so pragmatic? He wasn't sure he liked it; at least, he didn't like what it meant. That the last of her innocent naivete had been stripped away at last, that she had lost her endearing eccentricity as a result of everything that had happened to her. He exhaled, silently mourning that their son would never know the carefree, sweet little daydream his mother had once been.
"Now then," she said briskly, looking up at her Champion. "If you'll have your men round up the Nobles still able to walk, and any prisoners we've captured, we can start cleaning this mess up."
"Yes, my Queen," Dafydd nodded.
"And Dafydd?"
"Yes, my Queen?"
"Your hair wants cutting, you shaggy lion."
He burst out laughing.
The moment of merriment died a quick death when a grey-faced Tristan ran through the door. Dafydd tensed, stepping in front of Regina to confront the problem.
"Tristan?" he rumbled.
"Your Majesty, we need you in the dungeons," Tristan panted. "It's Duchess Contrary."
Rhys sat on the floor of the dungeon, Mary's body carefully draped in his lap. He did not scream; he did not panic. He also did not move; as long as he held perfectly still and balanced Mary just so, she wouldn't lose any more blood, and he could keep her safe.
He didn't turn or call for help when he heard several pairs of feet rushing toward him. He knew it would be Gigi, Dafydd and Tristan; he'd sent Tristan to fetch the Queen, and where Gigi went, Dafydd followed. Nothing especially noteworthy there.
"What happened?" Gigi demanded, falling beside him as her skirts billowed around her.
"She came down here to free the Nobles loyal to you," Rhys replied, having gotten the story from the Nobles, who had already been moved upstairs for treatment and healing. "Duff found her. She tried to fight him."
Regina keened low in her throat; she knew as well as Rhys that while Mary had received some lessons in self-defense from her revolutionary father before his death, she was far from an expert. Clearly, judging by the jagged wound and all the blood, the confrontation had gone about as well as one would expect. The wound in Mary's abdomen was serious; Rhys had bound it as tightly as he could, but he didn't dare risk moving her, for fear of aggravating the injury. But without moving her to medical help, she would surely die.
Regina bit her lip, clearly struggling with herself, before she exhaled in a huff, forcing the words out quickly. "Dafydd, find Afanen and bring her here."
All three of the Fearail stared at Regina, stunned. Had she lost her mind? Regina and Afanen weren't exactly on good terms; never had been, even before that whole upset with Afanen poisoning Regina. So why…?
"She has training in healing," Regina said impatiently. "She can find or make a Tea to stabilize Mary until we can get her to a Healer. Now go!"
Dafydd nodded, pressing a kiss to Regina's forehead before turning sharply on his heel and hurrying off. Meanwhile, Regina leaned forward, brow furrowed in concentration.
"Mary?" she asked softly, reaching for her friend's hand.
Rhys shook his head. "She hasn't been responsive since I found her."
Regina flinched; she wasn't trained in the healing arts, but she knew that wasn't a good sign. If only they could carry Mary to the Heart. Mary was of Crims, the Heart would take care of her…
Wait.
Regina frowned, thinking it through quickly. The Heart had Its own realm, in the darkness behind and between spaces, beneath and behind and within and above and below Crims. But the Heart had claimed her as Its own; in a way she too was the Heart. The Heart had the ability to heal Itself, the land, Its own… So did that mean…?
"Gigi?" Rhys frowned.
She didn't answer him. Instead she closed her eyes, gripping Mary's hand as she searched within herself, focusing on her heartbeat and the way it echoed the beat of the Heart.
Mine mine mine you are mine
She is yours
She is of me
She is hurt
I will heal myself
Rhys gaped, staring as a white glow emanated from Regina's skin. He'd never seen it before, but he knew what it must be; Power. The light poured out of her, wrapping around Mary and brushing against her skin, sinking in and causing Mary to glow before settling within her.
As Regina drew a long breath and opened her eyes, Dafydd returned, leading Afanen by a chain connected to the manacles around her wrists. She raised her head slowly, forcing herself to be calm as she looked at her second-greatest enemy.
She knew it was wrong to hate, but oh, she hated Afanen. She hated Afanen for her intimidating beauty, for her hauteur, for having ever had a claim on Dafydd, for daring to break his heart and being fool enough to let him go, for making Regina into a docile, Tea-addled puppet and for giving herself to Jack. She hated Afanen simply for existing, and oh, it was so tempting to set aside her vow of nonviolence and make Afanen pay for what she'd done!
Sanity— and her breath— returned when Dafydd lay a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Regina drew a shaky breath, laying her hand over her Beloved's as she collected herself, feeling the ring he'd given her sitting heavily on her finger. She was better than this, she chastised herself. Yes, so Afanen had done horrible things; what of it? Regina was Queen of Crims, not Afanen. Regina, not Afanen, was Dafydd's wife; Regina carried his son. Afanen, for all her scheming, was nothing. She was powerless now, and harmless. What had Regina to fear from her?
Besides, Afanen was scarcely recognizable. Her glorious golden locks hung in dirty, matted-down ropes, her hourglass figure had become gaunt. Her gown was filthy and tattered, and she was barefoot. Even her spiteful glare was a pale echo of her former hauteur. How far had Afanen fallen!
"What do you want?" Afanen asked, her voice sullen.
"Watch your tone," Dafydd chastised her, as if they were complete strangers and not formerly Betrothed.
"Two things," Regina replied, rising so they were on more equal footing— as equal as could be managed, given the height disparity between them (and really, it was entirely unfair that Afanen should be so much taller than she). "First, I want you to brew a Tea for Duchess Contrary, to aid in her healing. And then brew whatever Teas or tinctures the Healers need for the injured."
Afanen scoffed. "You'd trust me to brew Tea?"
"Trust you? Of course not," Regina retorted. "But I figure that you'll behave yourself under Madam Gwynyth's eye."
Regina barely managed to retain her composure as Rhys and Tristan snickered (Dafydd, bless him, kept a carefully blank face). Everyone knew that Dafydd's mathair had never liked Afanen, and would be quick to turn on her should Afanen attempt any mischief.
"And the second?" Afanen asked resentfully.
Regina tilted her head, considering the pathetic creature before her. "Jack set you up to take the fall for him about the Teas, didn't he?"
"Why else would I be in a dungeon?" Afanen snapped back, but she quieted under Dafydd's warning glare. "Yes, your Majesty."
Regina nodded. "What if I offered you a deal?"
"What kind of deal?" Dafydd cut in, frowning.
"The High Queen is going to have Jack stand trial for his crimes," Regina addressed Afanen. "I want you to testify against him."
"And in return?" Afanen asked.
"You won't keep your rank or position," Regina warned her. "You won't remain a Noble, and I won't allow you at Court. But I'll absolve you of the charges against you, allow you to return home."
Afanen shook her head. "There's nothing for me in Tearmunn."
"Then what would you like?" Regina asked warily.
Afanen was quiet for a long moment. "A shop," she finally decided. "Money and supplies to set up an apothecary in Isla Affalin. And a license to sell Tea."
Regina and Dafydd exchanged a glance. The shop was no problem, but allow Afanen to sell Tea, when the substance had caused them so much grief? How could they trust that their subjects would be safe?
"I'll need to think about the Tea license," Regina finally said. "But I'll agree to set you up in a shop in town."
Afanen nodded. "Then I'll testify."
Regina nodded in acknowledgement. "Tristan, please lead Madam Afanen to the kitchens. Keep an eye on her until Madam Gwynyth arrives. You can unshackle her, and arrange for some sleeping quarters and clothing. She'll remain as my guest until the Healers have finished with all the injured."
"Of course, milady," Tristan said, leading Afanen out of the dungeon slowly enough so that Rhys could follow with Mary's body.
When they were alone, Dafydd raised an eyebrow at her.
"That was lenient," he commented.
Regina sighed. "I want it over," she replied. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life dwelling on what Jack did, or how Afanen helped. And I wanted her gone. This seemed like a good arrangement."
"I'm not arguing," Dafydd replied, stroking her cheek. "But you're alright?"
"I think so," she nodded. "I will be."
Dafydd nodded, accepting that for now. "Let's get you out of here," he decided, taking her hand and leading her out of the dungeons.
"Yes please," Regina replied, following docilely. "There's still a lot of work to do."
There would be so much work ahead for them in the next several weeks; so much rebuilding and healing and restoration to be done. But for now, Regina let herself relax. She was home, and she wore her crown, and she and Dafydd would make everything alright again.
Rhys was fairly certain he was receiving the benefits of nepotism right now.
Consider: the army of which he was a (dare he say, vital) part had that afternoon successfully completed a somewhat-peaceful reclamation of their home. His Ace had, the moment the victory was confirmed, set all of his soldiers as well as the troops the High Queen and the Queen of Marmoreal had left to work— carrying the wounded to the Healers, digging graves for the dead, preparing to travel to every town, hamlet and hideout in the country to announce the reinstatement of their beloved Queen and to force the Cards to stand down.
Rhys, as second-in-command of the Fearail, the Queensguard, should have been busy doing something. Dafydd had taken Regina to her quarters— supposedly to have her eat and rest now that her numerous scratches and bruises had been seen to. More likely, they were celebrating their victory (honestly, Rhys thought with fond indulgence, newlyweds were so transparently predictable). With his Ace— and oh brimini, marrying Gigi had made Dafydd King, hadn't it?— occupied, Rhys as Deuce of Hearts should have been left in control to supervise the Heart Army's efforts.
And yet, here he was, sitting at the bedside of the Duchess of Tirnan Og. Granted, Gigi had asked him to stand guard over Mary— as Regina's Mistress of the Household and Lady of Honor, Mary was one of the most important people of the Court, and needed protection, especially considering she'd been gravely injured during the Cards' Rebellion.
But any of the Fearail could have stood guard as effectively. The fact that Gigi had asked Rhys specifically to stay at the bedside of the woman he loved, when duty would have sent him elsewhere… That's where Rhys was sure that nepotism was coming into play, and he thanked his lucky Stars for it.
Sighing, Rhys hunched over in his seat, taking Mary's hand in both of his as he catalogued every detail of her condition. The sword wound in Mary's abdomen had been serious, and her body had lain in the dungeon for so long before discovery. It was a miracle that the Healers were now cautiously optimistic that she would live. Fates, it had been such a close call. He had almost… She had nearly…
Shuddering, Rhys stood, walking away from Mary's bed. He turned his attention to her flowers— not a small task, since Mary had about as many plants as Regina had hats. Some of her beds were looking rather the worse for wear; understandable of course, since Mary had been busy helming a revolution. Still, he figured she'd appreciate someone taking care of her babies. Since he apparently had no other duties until she woke up, and considering that apart from Mary herself Rhys was the most knowledgeable person in the castle regarding all things botanical, he might as well keep himself occupied.
It was soothing, Rhys reflected as he shed his weapons in favor of Mary's trowel and shears, and set aside combat to tend to weeding, pruning and fertilizing. He'd spent so many long months in war mode; mounting tensions between the Fearail and the Albion, then exile, then operating the Resistance (and there had been more combat and bloodshed involved in that than anyone liked), and now this sudden rebellion that had brought them all home. It was an abrupt end to months of stress, and Rhys was having trouble believing it was all over, that he was tending these plants for pleasure, not to send messages or to prepare healing salves or poisons. And yet, it was peaceful; pleasant to think of nothing save the needs of each plant he came upon.
"For a soldier, you're not bad at gardening."
Rhys paused in the midst of weeding the tiger lilies (who were so pleased to have room to stretch their roots that they were purring), glancing over his shoulder to meet Mary's eye. She was drowsy still from sleep and medication, and a bit pale from blood loss, but her eyes were clear and burning bright with her fierce determination to live.
"For a gardener, you're not bad at soldiering," he replied, standing and washing his hands free of dirt before crossing to her. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got stabbed through the stomach," she said drily. "Has the takeover begun yet?"
"Begun and ended," Rhys assured her. "Jack's defeated, the Albion are disbanded, and Duff's dead, the bastard."
"That's too bad," Mary sighed. "I would've liked to see the fun."
"I think you've had enough excitement for a few months," he replied. "I should ask Gigi to send you to Tirnan Og until you're recovered."
"You'll come with me?" Mary queried. "We can get married there."
Rhys raised an eyebrow. "Are you proposing?"
"No. I'm arranging," she declared. "Less dithering that way. Now, were you ever planning on kissing me?"
Rhys laughed low in his throat as he leaned over her bed. He'd never been given to verse, but right now it didn't seem so hard.
"Mary, my Mary is extraordinary," he murmured, lacing their fingers. "And bloody contrary through and through."
"So we'll go to my home and in the gardens we'll roam," she continued, twining her free hand in his shirt to draw him to her. "And there we'll declare our I Do's."
Proposal made and accepted, their lips reunited. If this was the ending of months of tension and worry, Rhys decided, he hadn't done so badly for himself.
Tea Parties in Berserka were normally quite relaxed, informal affairs. Usually, Tea Parties were a break from Alice's aggressive trading and diplomatic efforts; a place where the Blue Queen, Sapphire King, Sky Prince, and whatever dignitaries happened to be in the capital city could congregate to enjoy themselves. Typically, no business was conducted at a Tea Party; they were occasions of pleasure, by order of the Hatter.
Today was not a typical Tea Party.
This afternoon, only five people sat around the Tea Table. High Queen Alice of the Clubs, dressed in a rather formal gown of royal blue trimmed with black, with a high collar that cut down to a squared neckline, a tightly wasped bodice and a bustled skirt, sat regally in her armchair, her usual tricorn hat replaced by the formal silver and blue-absalam crown of the High Queen.
Beside her, in his usual place at the head of the table, lounged the Sapphire King of Witzend. He was resplendent in a peacock blue velvet tailcoat, an emerald watered silk waistcoat, and Hightopp tartan trousers, his Hightopp Hat tilted at a rakish angle over his wild hair. On his lap bounced the Sky Prince, who kicked his fat legs as he played with a mess of his athair's ribbons.
On Tarrant's other side sat the restored Queen of Crims. She was garbed in similar formality to the High Queen, in a beautiful example of Crims' new fashion. The undergown was of white silk overlaid with delicate lavender gauze. Over this buttoned the overdress, of a heavy sapphire silk embroidered with gold floss. Regina had foregone her crown in favor of her Hightopp Hat, and her white curls were arranged in an elaborate hairstyle favored by many of the older Ladies of the White Court.
Beside Regina sat the Ace of Hearts, who would have preferred to stand back in the shadows as he used to. But he'd caved at the combined insistence of Regina, Tarrant and Alice, taking his place at the table "like proper family," as Tarrant had put it. Dafydd envied Tarrant's ability to lounge in his armchair; Dafydd's formal military uniform allowed for no such slouching. The heavy jacket was royal purple, trimmed with gold epaulettes and buttons, and a large embellished heart on each cuff. The trousers, at least, weren't so bad; he had room to bend his knees, and they tucked into his boots quite like his preferred informal wear. It wasn't the most comfortable getup he'd ever worn, but the predatory gleam in Regina's eyes when he'd walked out, freshly shaved and trimmed and wearing this ridiculous uniform… Well. There might be some benefits to it.
But any thought of marital impropriety would have to wait until after they'd gotten this mock trial settled, Dafydd reminded himself.
Mock trial, because he was pretty sure Alice and Regina were the only two taking it seriously at all. In Dafydd's opinion (and Tarrant clearly shared the sentiment), how could anyone seriously believe Regina guilty of breaking her White Vow?
"Well, yes darling, of course I agree with you," Alice was saying. "Attacking a sister-queen is a very serious offense. But I'm not quite convinced that it's punishable."
"Are you serious, Mama?" Regina asked, pouring everyone more tea. "That was the very definition of breaking my Vow! I attacked Lily with the intent of doing harm."
"Yes my dear, I understand your point," Alice replied. "But you were also Mad at the time."
"We're all Mad here," Regina said, waving her hand dismissively. "That doesn't negate the Vow-"
"No, but you must admit, it's a salient point," Alice cut her off. "The Vow stipulates that you will not consciously, deliberately harm a living being. What I'm asking is, when you attacked Lily, were you consciously and deliberately choosing to attack her? Or did you fly at her in a fit of Madness? Because they're not at all the same thing, and I don't think we can count the latter as choosing to break your Vow."
"Whether I chose to or not, the fact remains that I did break it," Regina argued. "You can't look past that just because I wasn't fully in control of myself."
"Of course I can look past it. That's my whole point," Alice argued back. "If you were Mad, under the influence of the Teas, then it wasn't your choice to attack Lily. Either time. The Doctor, too. I can only punish you for your conscious choices, darling, not for things that were well outside of your control."
Regina leaned back in her chair, nonplussed. "So you're telling me that there are no consequences?"
"Don't be Mad, dear," Alice said, waving her hand. "Of course there are consequences. As you said, the Vow was broken. That is the consequence. I'm merely saying that as I understand the situation, you were not responsible for the breaking. That fault lies elsewhere—with the Teas. And so, ultimately, with Jack. I'll not punish you for his sins. That would be Madness."
Regina sighed. "How do I make amends, then?" she asked. "For whatever unintentional part I played in the breaking?"
"Go to the Heart," Alice told her. "Reaffirm your commitment to the Vow. Make the conscious choice that you were denied in the moment."
Regina nodded slowly, biting her lip thoughtfully. Stifling a sigh, Dafydd caught her hand, twining their fingers together.
"I told you it wasn't your fault," he couldn't resist informing her.
She stuck her tongue out at him.
The Hall of Justice in Witzend's capital city of Berserka hummed with the excited, anxious mutterings of the many Underlandians who had crowded into the cavernous chamber to witness the unfolding drama. Animals and Humans alike chattered to their neighbors, craned their necks to get a better view, and compared their versions of recent events in an attempt to ease their uncertainties about how this proceeding would proceed.
In her time on the throne, High Queen Mirana had done much to ease her subjects' fears about Court Days. Underlandians had slowly come to trust that they could air their grievances in a court of law without losing their heads for it, as they would have under Queen Iracebeth.
But Alice wasn't the former High Queen; she was bound by no oath to withhold from violence. And with the son of the last Queen of Hearts on trial, Iracebeth's bloody legacy hung heavy in everyone's memories, and old fears were beginning to resurface.
The High Queen's visage did little to assuage her subjects' fears. She was pale and grave, garbed in severe, navy robes. Her crown glittered coldly atop her head, and her scepter was in her hand. This was the first case Alice was hearing publicly since her ascension into High Queenship, and clearly she intended to make a spectacle of it.
Jacoby Praecordia, the now-former King of Hearts, sat on the left side of the hall in the defendant's podium. He wore one of his favored tailored red suits, his platinum hair slicked back off his face. He had been held in Alice's dungeons for the last three weeks, but one couldn't tell that from looking at him. He was very good at looking the part of the wronged-but-rightful ruler. Well, of course he would be; so much of trial was putting on a good show. Jack had always been good at spectacles.
But, Regina reminded herself, no amount of spectacle would be enough to distract Alice from the truth. Jack had done terrible things— to Regina, to Crims, to Marmoreal, to Tearmunn, to Underland Itself. He would be punished. Regina had nothing to fear.
But she couldn't help being afraid. When faced with the man who had disempowered her, brutalized her, drugged her to Madness and death… How could she not be afraid in his presence? Bad things tended to happen to her when they were in close proximity; she couldn't just leave that conditioning behind.
At least she had Dafydd, she consoled herself. Ordinarily, no one would be allowed to stand in the podium with either plaintiff or defendant. However, given Regina's status as a White Queen, and the fact that Jack had killed Regina once… Well, Alice hadn't raised any objections to Dafydd remaining at Regina's side in his capacity of Queen's Champion.
"Let the trial begin," Alice announced, tapping her scepter against the arm of her throne. "Bring forth the first witness."
Regina didn't quite manage to suppress her grin as Lily strode into the hall and confidently ascended the witness platform between the two podiums. Goodness, did she ever look fierce; as hard and shining as the Diamond for which her family was named.
"What do you have to say about this matter?" McTwisp inquired.
"Jack arranged the murders of the former High Queen and King," Lily announced. "And of the Lion of the Red Lands."
A wave of stern mutters erupted at Lily's proclamation, until Alice silenced them by banging her scepter on her throne.
"A serious charge, Lily Palladia of Marmoreal," Alice stated, using Lily's formal name. "What is your evidence?"
Lily clapped her hands. Six Marmoreal Pawns entered the hall in pairs, each pair carrying a bulky trunk.
"Jack used his mistress' estate at Tearnan Beo as a hiding place to develop the poison that killed them," Lily stated. "Duke Blancmilque, formerly of Marmoreal, lately of Crims, was once Keeper of my mother's alchemical cupboards. He knew how to brew what Jack needed. There are letters, too, detailing the plot," she added.
Jack scoffed. "Why would I possibly want to poison my aunt?" he asked, his voice a mocking drawl.
"Why would you possibly want to poison your wife?" Dafydd shot back. "Remove all opposition."
Jack snarled, a queer light in his eyes. "Why you-"
"Who'd like a spot of tea?" Tarrant interrupted brightly, rolling out a massive tea service.
By the time the Hatter had prepared cups for the Main Persons of the Trial, Jack had lapsed into a resentful, glare-filled silence, while Dafydd rather obviously moved so that he stood between Jack and Regina, shielding her from his glance.
"Next witness," Alice called.
Regina stood very still in the podium, very carefully schooling her face to calm as one of Alice's Suits escorted Afanen into the hall. Despite her plain, unadorned clothing, Afanen held her head as high as any queen, and Regina felt a fierce wave of the old jealousy. Ugh, why did Afanen have to be so… much? It wasn't fair. They had made their deal, and Regina would stick to her end, but that didn't mean she was pleased about being in the same room with both Jack and Afanen, let alone allowing Afanen into the same room as Dafydd. Fates, what a tangled web was woven between the four of them.
"What do you know of these unfortunate matters?" McTwisp opened the questioning.
"I was Jack's mistress," Afanen announced, holding her head high through the wave of mutters. "He confided all of his plans to me."
"You knew of the plot to poison Queen Regina?" McTwisp verified.
"I did," Afanen confirmed. "Jack had given an old book of his mother's full of Tea recipes to the Doctor, charging him to experiment with their brewing. The Doctor was not aware that Jack then took those Teas to feed to the Queen," she clarified. "As a Duchess, I was a member of the Queen's retinue, had access to her chamber and to her food. I injected Fear, Doubt, and Anger into her food. The Queen had tea with the King daily. During those teas, he would swipe her teacup with a handkerchief doused in Lust, Confidence and Happiness. Teas aren't meant to be ingested with tea," Afanen explained. "They work against each other and unbalance the one who ingests them. Jack intended to drive the Queen irreparably Mad, thereby incapacitating her and allowing him to take the throne in her stead."
"Thank you, Madam Afanen," Alice said gravely. "You are free to go."
Regina exhaled shakily, clasping her hands together tightly over the gentle swell of her abdomen. She knew the gist of Jack's plan, of course, but it was one thing to know the gist and quite another to hear the details laid out so plainly. It was a miracle she had survived.
"Next, please," Alice called once Afanen had cleared out.
Regina bit her lip as her three maids walked into the hall and took the stand. Oh, she wasn't looking forward to this part…
"My good ladies, what have you to say about the Queen's state during her marriage to the former King?" McTwisp asked.
"When the Queen fell Mad, she was removed from our care," Azalea began. "She was locked away in the North Tower, and tended to by a Nurse of the King's choosing."
"What do you know about the… physical relationship… between the King and Queen?" Alice asked delicately.
"It was abusive," Clover replied when Azalea faltered. "He only paid attention to her when he wanted to be in her bed. He was terribly rough with her, and he always bruised her. The last time was the worst, but it built up to that for months."
"I believe he also threatened her," Azalea added. "Her safety, and that of… those she loved."
Jack scoffed. "I did what was needed to ensure her faithfulness," he spat. "And even that failed to keep her from whoring herself out."
"Silence!" Alice snapped, absolute venom in her voice. "I did not ask for your opinion."
"Why did you not come forward?" Tarrant asked grimly. "To the Ace of Hearts in Annwyn, or to the High Queen and myself?"
Azalea shrugged helplessly. "They were Betrothed, Bound, and Blessed," she replied. "What could any of us do against a vow like that? There was no way to dissolve the union, so what could any of us do to help her?"
In her throne, Alice was looking a bit green around the gills. Well, of course she would; as difficult as it was for Regina to be reminded of what she had endured, it must be terrible for Alice to hear the details of what had been done to her daughter. Regina had never confided the details of her life with Jack to her parents; it must be terribly upsetting to hear them now.
"Right. Now that that's settled," Alice said, curling her hands around her mug while at her feet little Prince Abraxas banged his mathair's scepter on the ground. "Carry on, please. Next witness?"
"The Carpenter, my Teacup," Tarrant announced.
"Ooh, how interesting," Alice smiled. "I've never heard a rumor give testimony before. Will said ghost make himself known?"
Smirking, Dafydd rose his hand. "Present."
"You!" Jack snarled, gripping the sides of his podium. "I knew it! I knew it was you, and no one believed me! Off with your head, by order of the King!"
"I think you'll find that order hard to carry out," Dafydd said smugly, folding his arms. "Considering I am the King. Be a bit odd to lop off my own head."
Jack's growl wasn't enough to drown out the sound of the Hatter's teacup shattering.
"King," Tarrant repeated blankly.
Jack grinned viciously, seeing how this news might win him an ally. Dafydd and Regina froze, exchanging identical looks of growing horror as it dawned on them—
"You're married?!" Gwynyth Hightopp exclaimed, leaping to her feet from where she sat with the Hightopp elders.
"You didn't even tell us?" Alice asked, her eyes narrowing in displeasure.
"Um… oops?" Regina tried meekly. "Surprise?"
Tarrant stood, his skin and clothing fading as his tartan kilt brightened and his eyes began to burn.
"Ye merrit mah dochter. In secrit. Withit us. Outside ay yer homelain?" he growled at his revealed son-in-law.
Jack snickered gleefully. "Surely that invalidates the vows."
"Not that that aids your cause," Mary Contrary called to Jack from the sidelines.
"Whieest!" Tarrant snapped to the general assemblage, returning his glare to Dafydd. "Weeks since yer return, an' ye ne'er thought tae mention 'at ye merrit mah wee laddie? Hoo am Ah supposed ta give mah dochter 'er weddin' gown if Ah dinnae ken it's needed?!"
"Da, please!" Regina burst out, wriggling to stand in front of her husband as though that would protect him from her athair. "We meant to tell you and Mama, honest! We just… got distracted. You know. Retaking the queendom, and all."
Tarrant drew a sharp breath through his nose. "We're nae done talkin abit thes, mah son," he vowed in a growl, before sitting down in a huff.
"And when Laird Tarrant's through with the pair of you, it'll be my turn," Gwynyth said darkly.
Dafydd and Regina each winced, trading rueful glances to the amusement of the assemblage. Well honestly, they had this coming, for marrying in secret and denying Tarrant a chance to throw a party.
"Right," Alice said after a moment, visibly pulling herself back together. "If we might return to the point at hand-"
"I won't allow my son to be raised by an Outlander exile," Jack snarled.
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Dafydd said gleefully. "He's not yours."
Jack froze, the frenzied light in his eyes flaring. Regina swallowed hard, reaching for Dafydd's hand and sighing in relief when he shielded her from Jack's view again.
"Dafydd, please," she whispered, huddling into him. "He's still under the sway of the Darkness. Please don't agitate him."
"I knew my wife was nothing but a traitorous Outlander's whore," Jack sneered, spitting at them. "You would put your bastard on my throne?"
Dafydd snarled, stepping forward and half-drawing his claymore as Regina tried to stop him. In response, the Clubs stationed by both podiums gripped their axes, training them on both Jack and Dafydd.
"Enough!" Alice bellowed, surging to her feet. "Dafydd, sheathe your sword or surrender it. Jacoby, hold your tongue or be muzzled."
Growling, Dafydd sheathed his claymore with a half-bow to Alice, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. Jack, by contrast, bared his teeth and laughed.
"And this is to whom you would entrust my mother's country," he sneered, voice dripping with derision. "Everything I've done, I've done for Crims. Because I stepped into the Darkness, and the Heart spoke to me there. She chose me to cleanse Her, and all of Underland, from all of Regina's Uplandish filth and nonsense. To restore Underland to her pure wild magic."
Alice gestured sharply, and Jack's diatribe was cut off as a Club gagged him.
"I've come to a decision!" Alice announced.
"How marvelously hasty of you, My Alice," Tarrant commended her, doffing his Hat as he swept his wife a grandiose bow.
Regina's heart leapt into her throat. Because she knew, she knew what punishment Alice was likely to mete out. And despite everything Jack had done to her, Regina couldn't just sit back and allow this fate to fall on Jack's head. Not when she knew this Truth about the man she'd been married to.
"May I speak?" she burst out.
Alice quirked a curious eyebrow, inclining her head in permission. Ignoring Dafydd's muttered expletive-laden objections, Regina stepped forward, laying her hands flat against the podium to still their shaking.
"I believe Jack has proven himself Mad, and a danger to himself and others," Regina stated.
"He has," Alice nodded in agreement.
"You told me, your Majesty, that when one is Mad they cannot be held fully accountable for their actions," Regina reminded her mama. "If Jack truly is Mad, how can he be punished for what he's done?"
Both of Alice's eyebrows were raised now. "Are you comparing the actions of… that case… to this one, Regina?"
"I don't see much difference," Regina replied.
"Don't you?" Alice asked. "I also told you, did I not, that the importance lay in one's choice?"
"But if Jack was under a malevolent influence, how can he have chosen?" Regina asked.
Alice shook her head. "I see what you're trying to argue, Regina. And it's a noble impulse, truly. But the two cases aren't similar at all. In the one, the plaintiff was driven deliberately Mad, and was beyond rational choice. In this, I don't see any evidence that Jack wasn't fully in control of his actions."
"You haven't felt the Darkness, Mama," Regina dared to say. "I have. And I don't think Jack was any more in control than I was under the Teas."
"That's where you're wrong, girl."
Really, it was quite impressive how a being as tiny as Zhithene could make her voice so very loudly heard.
"Greetings, Keeper," Alice said politely. "You have something to say?"
"Aye, I do," Zhithene nodded, settling herself down on the witness podium comfortably as she prepared her hookah. "Your girl's a fool, Alice."
Regina huffed in indignation, which Zhithene blithely ignored. When the Keeper had taken a long drag of smoke, she continued.
"Your mistake is in thinking that Jack is operating under the same rules you are, little pili pala," Zhithene declared. "You are bound by the White Vow, and it has shaped your thinking and your behavior. You are bound to cause no harm, and so all of your actions reflect that commitment. Jack is under no such oaths. You were driven to Madness, through no fault of your own. Jack made the choice to open that Door to Darkness. He knowingly brought that Chaos to Crims. So yes, he did choose to cause harm, and the fact that he went Mad doesn't protect him from the consequence of his actions."
"But-" Regina tried, before Zhithene cut her off again.
"What is the White Vow, Regina?" the Old Woman asked.
She sighed in irritation, but answered. "That I will not cause harm to any living creature."
"Exactly," Zhithene nodded in satisfaction, fixing her most serious gaze on the young Queen. "Sometimes, little Queen, doing no harm means preventing harm being done. I know what you're trying to do, and it's noble. Truly. It takes a great soul to extend mercy to an enemy like this one," she said, jerking her head in Jack's direction. "But it's not just Jack you have to think of. You are Queen; you are Crims. You must not cause harm to any of the citizens of Crims, either. And whatever you are thinking of doing for Jack, I promise you, it will cause harm to the citizens of Crims."
"But that's not a choice at all," Regina protested. "Either way, someone is harmed."
"That is what it is to be Queen, sometimes," Zhithene said gravely. "So what is the greater sin? Failing to protect one man, or failing to protect thousands?"
Regina's lips trembled, and her head bowed under the terrible burden. But the Old Woman was right.
"I will not cause harm," she said softly, her voice choked. Raising her head, she looked her mother in the eye. "I will abide by the High Queen's decision."
Alice nodded, standing. "Jacoby of the Elder Branch of Praecordia, son of the Red Queen Iracebeth, former King of Crims. I find you guilty of crimes against all the Lands and Queens of Underland. You have given yourself to the wild Darkness, and so I decree that you shall be fed to that Darkness in punishment for your sins. This shall be done upon our return to Crims, after the birth of Regina's son. Until then, you shall be returned to my dungeons."
Alice banged her scepter against her throne, indicating the end of the trial. As Jack was led away by General Koda, Regina exhaled shakily, heavily leaning against Dafydd. It seemed impossible that it was over; equally impossible that she was allowing this particular ending. It seemed like a dream, and Regina couldn't tell whether or not she wanted to wake.
"Easy, cariad," Dafydd murmured, sliding an arm around her waist to support her. "Breathe. Everything's alright."
"It feels so wrong, that it might actually be over," she said faintly. "I can't believe it."
"Me either," he admitted. "But it's good, isn't it?"
"I… Yes," she said slowly. "Yes. It's good."
Dafydd pulled Regina closer, understanding her bewilderment. He wondered how long she would be haunted by the decision she'd made, and whether she'd be able to forgive herself for what she'd needed to do to protect her queendom.
Alice fixed a judging gaze on Regina and Dafydd, interrupting their reverie.
"We'll be having that talk now," she ordered.
Dipping her head meekly, Regina allowed Dafydd to help her out of the plaintiff's podium before they followed Alice, Tarrant and Gwynyth out of the Hall of Justice. Funny, the prospect of the dressing-down they were about to endure seemed even more terrifying than this trial had been…
"We'll be alright, Gia," Dafydd murmured, gently tugging one of her silver-white curls.
"Assuming our parents don't kill us," she muttered back.
He scoffed. "We're making them grandparents, they should be thanking us. It's more likely they'll yell a bit, then throw us a party. You know your da's been looking for an excuse to Futterwhacken."
Despite her worry, Regina giggled. She hoped Dafydd was right; after all, they did have so very much to celebrate…
Lily bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet as she stood at the prow of the Dawn Seeker. Maybe if she bounced hard enough, it would send shock waves through the water and the resulting waves would push her to the harbor more quickly.
In the week since Jack's trial, Lily had made her peace with the verdict. She respected the fact that Regina's White Vow compelled her to plead for Jack's life. But compared to the monstrosities Jack had committed against Regina (and Crims), Dafydd (and Tearmunn) and Lily (and Marmoreal)? Mad or no, Regina's mercy would have been too lenient. As hard as it might be for Regina to accept, Alice's punishment really was the most just course of action.
She wasn't really upset (well, not very much) that she would be missing the actual execution. Though part of her did want to watch Jack's punishment with her own two eyes, at the end of the day it was enough to know that the execution would happen. Either way, it was finished. It was time to move forward now.
With the mystery of her parents' murder solved and the perpetrator's trial complete, Lily could finally bring her siblings home. Hence her current presence on this boat. She could have let Ioan bring them home on his own of course… but where was the fun in that? Shadhavar was more than able to step in as Regent for a couple of weeks; why not leave him to it?
And anyway, it wasn't as though she'd be carrying the burden of Crown Keeper much longer. At that happy thought, Lily wriggled in glee, scanning the rapidly approaching harbor. Were they there? She'd told Ioan via Looking Glass that she'd be arriving today…
A chorus of excited yelps and squeals caught Lily's attention as the ship was moored. Racing to the deck, Lily barely waited for the gangplank to be laid before barreling down to the ground and racing toward her little welcoming group. She threw herself at her siblings as they leaped on her, and for long moments it was tears and laughter and hugs.
She only let her siblings go when Ioan greeted her, and then only because he'd swept her into a kiss so fervent she had to cling to him, or topple.
"I missed you," he murmured as they finally came up for air.
"Uh-huh," she replied, dazed. "Me too."
Grinning smugly, Ioan leaned in for another peck before pulling away to corral the White Children.
"We'd better get back," he told them. "Rissa's waiting."
As the children cheered and ran toward a nondescript carriage, Lily bit her lip and tugged on Ioan's arm.
"Has she gotten worse?" she asked, keeping her voice pitched low.
Ioan sighed, squeezing her fingers. "She's not beyond help," he murmured encouragingly. "Once she's home, the Doctor says she'll perk right up."
Lily sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I wish I could've ended this sooner."
"The important thing is that it's over," Ioan countered. "We'll be home soon, and we'll get married, Rissa will recover, and we'll move on."
Lily tilted her head, an idea blooming. But she kept her own counsel as she climbed into the carriage, focusing on her brothers and sisters as they traveled to Liegeling Ero's palace. As soon as the carriage stopped, Lily vaulted out, leaving her siblings to scamper off where they willed as she made her way to the secluded, quiet room where the Doctor and his Companion Pond were taking care of Nerissa.
The sound of music arrested Lily's progress, and she paused in the doorway to observe. Nerissa lay on a chaise, wrapped in a thick shawl in defense against the chill breeze coming from the sea. Her eyes were closed not in sleep, but in concentration as she listened to the music.
The tune was haunting, by turns brooding and mournful. Terribly sad, but undeniably beautiful. The performer was young; more boy than man. He should've been too young to understand a grief this profound. And yet, from what little Lily knew of the young man (who she'd surmised to be Ioan's young cousin, Gregan Hightopp), he was quite well versed in tragedy.
"Are you homesick, Gregan?" Lily asked when the music trailed into silence.
Both young people jerked in surprise and looked up. Upon seeing her, Gregan's face closed off, becoming indifferent and unreadable. Standing, he sketched her a perfect half-bow that still seemed empty and insincere before gathering the composition texts and scrolls he'd apparently brought with him.
"Oh Lily, it's so good to see you," Rissa sighed, struggling to sit up.
"Oh no you don't," Lily chided her, rushing over to ease her sister back down. "Don't exert yourself."
"Have you come to take us home?" Nerissa asked wistfully.
"Yup," Lily nodded, smiling as Rissa's whole face lit up.
"Really?" she asked hopefully.
"Really and truly," Lily grinned. "The Dawn Seeker sails in three days."
Squealing in excitement, Rissa lunged forward to hug Lily. Laughing, Lily hugged back, laying her head on her sister's.
"When we get home, we'll host your Queenmaking as soon as you're well," Lily said.
Nerissa pulled away, frowning. "What? Lily, you're the Queen-"
"I'm not, actually," Lily interrupted calmly. "I'm a Crown Keeper. The Diamond Mind chose you as Queen when Mother died, but I had to send you away for your own safety, until I was sure there was no more threat of you being killed as well. So the Diamond Mind accepted me as Regent until you could come home."
Nerissa stared at Lily, awed. "I… I'm the Queen?"
Lily nodded. "That's why you got so Homesick. It's very hard for Queens to be separated from their countries."
Nerissa leaned back in her chaise, seemingly stunned. Seeing her shock, Lily debated holding her tongue, but… well… that had never been one of her gifts.
"I have a question for you," she said. At Nerissa's curious nod, she forged ahead. "Before we sail for home, will you marry Ioan and me?"
Ioan spluttered, clearly caught offguard. "I, um… what?"
"What?" Lily asked, amused by his surprise. "We keep delaying it because of crises, and I'm fed up with that. There's always going to be another crisis. But we've got a quiet period now. Quietish," she amended, considering the months and years of rebuilding that Underland was facing in the wake of Jack's destruction. "So why not just do it? Dafydd and Gigi eloped, why not us?"
"What?" Rissa and Gregan gasped in unison, her jaw dropping in glee while he looked stricken.
Oh, that's right. Nerissa had always looked up to Regina, and the two had become as close as sisters since Regina's return to Underland. But Lily was willing to bet her favorite rapier that Gigi hadn't been in contact with Rissa much (if at all) since the Suitors' Joust.
"Oh. Yes, they're married," Lily said dismissively. "And expecting a child. I'll tell you the details later."
"What?" Gregan repeated in a hoarse voice, his face gone white with shock. "But… No. No, he can't!"
"Whether he can or not, it's done," Lily shrugged.
"How could he betray us like that?" Gregan burst out, before throwing his books down and sprinting away.
Silence fell in the wake of Gregan's departure. Nerissa gnawed her lip and fiddled with her sash anxiously, while Lily frowned in confusion. What had that been about?
"Brimini," Ioan muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I'd better go after him."
He headed for the door, then paused, returning to kiss Lily deeply.
"You Mad, daft, impatient woman," he said fondly. "I'll marry you as soon as I get back."
That promise made, Ioan hurried out after his wayward relative. Grinning, Lily turned to Nerissa.
"I suppose that means we need to get you into a dress," Rissa said thoughtfully.
Lily made a face. "Why can't I just get married in my breeches?"
"Absolutely not!" Nerissa exclaimed, looking scandalized. "You may be just a Crown Keeper, but you're still a princess. If we're doing this, we're doing it right. Sisi can get the flowers, and Rora can charm Liegeling Ero into ordering a feast. He'll do anything, if she asks him. He's quite gone on her, you know. Maybe he'll even let us use his sanctorum for the vows. And I can keep the twins in line for an hour or two, I think."
Lily rolled her eyes. If she'd known Nerissa would be like this, maybe she wouldn't have asked her to witness the Vows…
Still, Lily couldn't help but be excited. Relinquishing the Crown, bringing her siblings home, marrying Ioan… This was a new beginning she couldn't wait to start.
Additional Author's Note: There will be two short BTP chapters posted next. One of them is all about Alice and Tarrant's reactions to the news of Gigi and Dai's marriage (it gave me so many feels, you guys), and the other is about Gigi and Dai's first night in Isla Affalin after Gigi's reinstatement (it's basically porn with feels. So many feels.).