Chapter 53
Serena gave a round of explicit words as she stumbled to the pond nearest to her private quarters. For whatever reason, because she certainly didn't remember them now, she had agreed to drink a round of hard liquor with her troops.
This was done with a turning of her head and lifting of her mask so no one could see the lack of masculine features on their 'greatest warrior'. She couldn't bloody walk a straight line at this point much more wield a sword so, in her fit of morning after thinking, had decided that carrying a sword would be pointless.
That was only mistake number two.
Yawning behind the mask, she smiled when she saw the beautiful water reflecting the sunlight. She could finally get rid of the horrible stench of men. It had been a rather busy day yesterday.
First, the death of her replacement, Jill, and then the murder of Jill's murderer. Ah, that had been a good feeling to be able to slice into another living being again. She had, for months, been forced to the sidelines and made to wait while things played out. It was Folken's plan to make sure the princess remained pure in the sight of Van in case they needed him to cooperate with them in a special way.
But there had been brief and fiery moments of her rebellion. First Slena fell under her sword in Allen's disguise and then Fanelia. That troublesome city with the witch of the Queen had finally met its long overdue fate. Everything went perfectly, even if the high-and-mighty Folken didn't plan it out. There was only one fly in the soup when it came to that memory.
Serena hissed through clenched teeth as she remembered the scar on her cheek Van etched there during their battle. Although she, as a beautiful woman, could never forgive him that great insult, it was also the woman in her who purred with the thought of his power. It was only through extensive applications of cosmetics she had been able cover it up or wore a hood.
As Dilandau, she had no need to cover it up. The helmet did it all.
Grinning like a mad cat, she jerked off her belt and shoes and started to remove her helmet when something caught her attention.
More accurately, something caught her.
"Damn it to the pits!" she screamed, fighting against the net that had wrapped around her like a cheap city whore. "Who is responsible!" The Dilandau persona was coming out as her voice dipped in tone. After twisting her body around until her knees were beneath her and not resting on her shoulders, she searched the forest for the hunter.
"I never expected to catch the mighty slayer of Zaibach so easily," came mocking, but thoroughly amused, voice from beyond the pond.
Dilandau was not happy.
In fact, he was so unhappy that he was practically foaming at the mouth with fury. He was such an amateur if he didn't see this coming! He left camp without his gloves, without his sword, and he got caught by a bunch of hierarchy hoodlums!
Allen emerged from the shadows and the princess narrowed her eyes. As Van stepped out from a different side, she saw red and snapped.
Fighting wildly and blindly against the twine prison, she threatened, quite colorfully, what she would do if they did not release her from the net soon.
"We are allies, Van!" Dilandau screamed.
"We were," the deep, impersonal tone made the woman in Dilandau nearly swoon with delight. That was one thing she loved about Van, his dark promise. He could be such a demon lord, as his heritage was already curse, but he just needed to forget petty and unnecessary things.
Such as the Queen currently being cared for by Folken.
"I'm going to inform the princess of this, I'm sure she'd lov-"
"She's dead."
Serena blinked and sat back. Her mind whirled. She wasn't dead, she should know, after all Serena was Serena.
"Is that so? How can you be sure?" the knight mocked, tipping his head to the side.
"We went to your tent, there was blood everywhere." Allen's smile twisted down. "Your hilt was the only one with dried blood on it last night. We checked. And no one has seen her since late afternoon yesterday."
It took a few seconds for things to click. The neko! Jill! The men who removed the bodies must have not cleaned Dilandau's tent as methodically as she had thought. It was late when she had staggered into her sleeping quarters and a thorough inspection of the tent was the furthest thing from her mind.
"Let me out of this net now and I promise you I will just kill and not torture you," Dilandau growled.
Van knew that voice and upon recognition, his garnet eyes shifted to a ruby glow. With the man no longer screaming, with his voice taunting with an edge of crazy, the King instantly knew.
This was the man he fought in Fanelia.
This was his new target.
Dilandau had taken Serena away from him, had killed her before he had the honor of doing it, and now the knight would take the princess' place under the razor sharp edge of his blade. Before he could draw his sword, a steady hand was on his shoulder. Van's eyes flicked to the owner of the hand and even if Allen didn't look at him, the air around the blonde spoke volumes.
Now was not the time to be angry, now was the time to be a diplomat.
"We have a proposition for you."
"This should be a riot." The knight folded his arms and leaned back. Whatever they were wanting, she had no choice but agree. He had to get out of this net one way or another. She would massacre them as soon as she was armed again.
"We want you to go before the Courts," Allen stated firmly, glancing over at Van who was doing his best to try and set the caught man on fire with his intense stare.
"You might not have noticed, but I don't particularly like the martyr role," Dilandau replied flippantly.
"Then let the deceased Princess be your martyr," Allen explained calmly. "You are—or were her most trusted soldier, you can tell them what has occurred was all her idea. They would believe you and perhaps pardon you for striking out against her before all of Gaea collapses in on itself because of this war."
"Oh, yes," Dilandau teased, "The many poor and helpless people who have suffered. All those who have died. The soldiers who lost their families-lost their wives."
Van's anger became its own entity at that point. It took Allen physically restraining the man to keep the King from tearing the red and black dressed man steam to stern.
"If I was a rabbit, I wouldn't be so foolish with my words!" Van raged.
"Did I hit a nerve?" Dilandau asked innocently.
Allen gave a firm eye to Van and the ebony haired King jerked his head to the side. His anger was still its own breathing creature but he would have to keep it at bay for the moment.
"You will help us," Allen stated firmly, placing his left hand on the hilt of his sword. "Or I will let his highness do with you as he wishes." The blonde knight tilted his chin and gave a small smile. "I don't think it will consist of flowers and wine."
Serena looked over at Van, his red eyes brightened by his anger and the fury she could almost touch rolling off of him in delicious waves. He would be someone to keep as long as Folken didn't do anything stupid. Back when they were engaged, Van had been too weak, too easy to manipulate. Now, now it was a different story. He was a man who was fire branded and bathed in gory glory.
He was almost perfect.
"Very well," Dilandau made sure to keep his voice light yet deep in tone. "I am your temporary toy."
From the safety of a high tree, the golden haired neko's ears caught every word without worry of being found out. She had followed the soldier to this place in hopes of gutting him when the net snapped.
Nariya scurried up a tree to see if there was a way to steal away their capture so she could bathe in the man's blood, but a more interesting development had occurred.
Lord Folken would be very pleased with this knowledge, perhaps it would ease the loss of her sister. As silent as the wind, she moved down the tree and through the woods where her guymelef was stashed in a cave, away from prying eyes.
Armand heaved another breath out, looked up with one blood shot eye through his bangs, and forced his busted lips to spread into a smirk.
"I'm getting bored here."
One of the guards growled and slammed their fist into the man's face again.
The knight spat out a mouthful of blood and spit before turning his taunting eyes back to his pack of attackers.
Both of Hitomi's hands were tied behind her back as she was forced to watch her friend take a hard thrashing from a bunch of no bodies. Her tears flowed freely as her baby flipped and kicked restlessly.
She had to go to the bathroom but wasn't dare going to ask.
Folken! How is it possible that he was related to Van?
The Fanelian man confessed Armand was not wrong in assuming it was him and had even boasted of his cut ties with the proud country. The blue-haired demon had spoken with her privately and requested basic information about her family and about her growing baby.
She hadn't said a word.
Her green eyes had remained straight forward and her lips were pressed tightly together.
For this insolence, Armand was handed over to Folken's restless men.
It was only a few moments in and the handsome knight was being held up by his elbows by two men as the others kicked, slammed kneed, and punched his body.
It was because of her. Again.
She clamped her eyes shut and turned her face away. Everyone got hurt because of her!
"Oh no, your majesty," Folken pressed his fingers under her chin and forced her to face the brutal scene. "You must be aware of the things you do. Your choice chose his fate."
"That's not fair," she managed to get out in a strong voice, though a bit husked from her crying.
"Life is never fair." He held up his mechanical arm. "I should know. Would you wish to take his place, Hitomi?"
Armand's blue eyes met her green ones for just a second before a man brought his fist into the brunette's stomach. In that brief amount of time, a message had been passed.
Loyalty.
He wasn't doing this because she was female, expecting, or whatever sexist notion that could be brought up. Armand was doing this because it was his duty to serve those of the Fanelia Royal house.
There would be no forgiving her if Hitomi took that away and was made to suffer in his place.
She had to protect the future that grew bigger every day in her womb as Armand had to protect the present with his rapidly broken and bruising body.
"No," Hitomi stated solidly, "But I won't tell you what you want either."
Folken smiled, actually smiled at that. "As you wish, your majesty."
They did not let up on the knight until he has passed out in their grasp.
Nariya growled her displeasure as she leapt from her guymelef to the hanger floor. Dilandau's scent was heavy in the hanger and it made her thirst for her revenge ten times over again.
Tilting her nose, she took a deep whiff. Lord Folken was in the area. Swiftly the neko sprinted up the steps and continued down the hall until the scent of blood assaulted her nose.
There was a man being dragged, unconscious, from one room down a stairwell and most likely to the brig. It wasn't her concern so she pushed forward, careful not to tread in the blood drooled out of the man's mouth.
"Lord Folken?" the woman questioned, before she glanced in the room.
Her lord and master stood as silent and passive as ever, while there was a weeping mess of human flesh. Again, it wasn't her concern.
"Yes, Nariya?" The man stepped forward and without saying another word exited the room. He secured the door before giving the neko his full attention.
"I have news."
"Indeed, do not keep me in suspense." Her face bunched in confusion. Was he making a joke? "Did you complete your task?"
"No," she admitted, casting her eyes downward for a second before meeting his bravely. "But I bring you news. Sir Dilandau has been captured by the Dragon and the Prince of Zaibach."
A slim blue eyebrow rose as an indication for her to continue.
"I found my sister murdered," she growled out the last word but no emotions flickered in her Lord's eyes. "The scent was heavy of Dilandau's, when I went to hunt him. I found him in the morning, alone, but he was caught by a net before I could attack."
"I see." The man glanced at the door behind him.
"They said Princess Serena was slain by Dilandau's hand." The other blue eyebrow joined its twin on the incline. "Dilandau has agreed to go before the Courts to testify that everything was the Princess' idea."
"That would present a problem." Folken, again, glanced back at the door to the room he had just left. "Perhaps a new bargain can be struck."
Nariya tilted her head to the side, curious about what it was her Lord had planned or was planning in his mind.
"Do you wish for me to finish Eriya's task?" She was going to kill Dilandau regardless but it might be nice to have her Lord's permission.
"No, not yet." He gave her a solid stare. "I have another task for you."
Ears perked with curiosity as they were filled with a new, less bloody assignment.
"We have him," Allen started, trying to break Van out of whatever cell of grief he locked himself in recently. "Now what? We can't take him to the Courts without some sort of body to prove the princess is dead."
"And they might think I killed her," Van spat, disgusted that even in death, the Princess tormented him. Allen nodded mutely.
He wasn't pleased his little sister was dead, but was hopeful that with her death, peace would be restored to her soul and to the torn lands.
"We must find some way to convince them that you did not do it."
"But that I did?" Dilandau said mockingly. "Yes, that will make things much easier." His voice was light and teasing, "They won't take the word of one murder over another."
Van gave a withering glare and although he couldn't see it, he was sure there was a madman's grin behind the face plate of the helmet.
"He has a point," Allen disclosed softly. "I will not frame anyone else."
"Oh, but framing me is fine?" Dilandau questioned, annoyed.
"Hold your tongue," Van snapped, his right hand reaching around to his left side, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Or would you rather it cut out?"
"Would make it terribly difficult to testify, now wouldn't it?" The man leaned his head forward, "I don't think it would bode well for making them believe that you aren't a blood thirsty abomination."
The thin string that was holding up Van's manners was loped off with the arrogant detainee's words.
The blonde knight blocked the steady path Van was making the bound knight.
"This won't help."
Van's ruby eyes flickered from the man's face to that of the armored man behind him. Growling, the King slammed his sword back into place and stormed out of the tent.
Allen watched the younger man leave and sighed. With frozen eyes, he looked down at the General Knight and with a deadly low tone he spoke, "I will not always stop him. You should tread lightly. Remember that."
"And I will not always be tied down," the Zaibachian warned, "When I am released, his blood will fill my cup. You remember that."
Van splashed the icy water on his features. He shouldn't have let the knight get to him as easily as he did. The total lack of restraint was giving power to the enemy. Allen had made it quite clear that they needed Dilandau alive.
For now.
Accidents always happened.
Shaking his head, the loose beads of water dropped off his wild hair, he then ran one calloused hand over his face, it was then the man felt the shift in air around him. If not for the long months spent walking an increasingly thin string of safety of a war, he probably wouldn't have been so in tune with the things around him.
It was a fighter; Van just felt the danger seeping off this person, whoever it was. Standing slowly, as not to let the person be too suspicious of his knowledge, the King also briefly wondered who would dare attack him within earshot of his camp and in broad, piercing daylight.
"I have a message."
To the left, just a few feet beyond the pond's edge was where the voice drifted from. It had a funny purr, almost a snake's tempting hiss to the words that only females could accomplish.
"I'm listening," Van dropped both hands to his sides and clenched them into fists. He rested his eyes on the spot he knew the voice was coming from.
"Your princess is not dead," the female informed. "If you wish to have her, you may."
"Why should I believe you?" Van was sick of these random people poking out of random places and telling him what to do.
"Because I have seen her, because your Allen will believe you. Tell him that Stratego holds the female on Vione. Use Escaflowne to come to him, with Dilandau, at sunset tonight or she will die."
There was a slight crack of a branch and then silence. The King growled several unpleasant words under his breath.
Someone must have been spying.
It was a good thing he didn't need to relieve himself when any of these 'mystery voices' came prowling about.
Studying the area around the pond, Van huffed as he turned on his heel and marched back to the camp. It would seem he had a few more things to discuss with Allen.
It was hours later when a breathless male voice screamed out for the princess, causing the princess to turn away from the map and the slowly thought out strategy about tomorrow's morning raid.
"Now just why are you, soldier, running around like some ungrateful mutt!" a general shouted.
The man bowed and stood up quickly. "I have news! The information the princess requested!"
"Let him pass," Eries commanded, straightening to her full height. She still seemed like a shrub in an oak forest with all the men around her. "Your news?"
The man huffed, dropped to one knee, and after bowing his head, looked up at the princess. "They—intend to travel tonight," the soldier confessed. "Three of them."
"Which three?" Eries asked impatiently.
"The King of Fanelia, the General Knight of Zaibach, and Sir Allen of Asturia." Her blood nearly sang with relief and victory.
She kept her face expressionless as she studied the man.
"When do they plan on leaving? And where are they going?"
"To the floating island," the solider pointed straight up, and unconsciously everyone within ear shot followed the man's finger. The under belly of the fortress, they had hoped, was not equipped with any type of spy scopes or anything that would give away their location. "They leave tonight, after sunset."
Eries glanced back down at her soldier. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes. The guymelef that came through last night is that of Sir Dilandau."
Silence filled the air, the pure weight of opportunity swamped over them. It was a fragile hope that none felt brave enough to speak about.
"The alpha males of the dog pack will be gone," A general leered finally.
"This will be easy pickin's," another man followed up. Eries dismissed the solider after thanking him for his information and work.
Ana wiped her eyes as she stumbled along the abandoned road. There was very little she wouldn't do or hadn't done to get out of Asturia. The guards had been willing to let her go after the favors they requested from her.
It was nothing degrading or disgusting, surprisingly enough, but it made her fingers burn and her eyes sore. The rumor of Asturia's impending doom and the knowledge that Slena was Fanelia's alley made the soldiers leery of doing perverted things to and with her. The soldiers were too fearful that if Fanelia did win that they would be cut down by the breathing legend that Van was turning into. Ana had been thankful for such fear.
True to their word, the soldiers she bargained with set her in the same path taken by the Astuiran army. It wasn't a hard path to follow actually since it was trampled with guymelef and soldiers footsteps.
Angry eyes scanned the path for leftover food or berry bushes (as long as it wasn't those mushrooms). Her mind played and replayed everything her heart, that used to be so pure but was injected with hate and maliciousness, was telling her to do. Between her sisters and herself, there had always been distinctions.
Leiko was the sexy, smooth one that knew how to turn men into piles of jelly.
Hitomi was the strong, independent one that never feared speaking her mind.
Ana had been the motherly one. She had worked all her youth as an apprentice for the both the wet nurses and the local midwife to learn to be the best mother she could be when she was blessed enough to have a child.
Her heart twisted and screwed down tightly into her spine.
Ana hadn't been able to see her young daughter in months because of this silly war.
Every country thought their way was the best!
Shaking her red-haired head, Ana refocused on what her mind came up with.
Eries was the reason she was taken from her baby. Eries was the one who dragged her soldiers into a blood bath. There was no way on Gaea that Asturian forces would be able to take over Fanleia or Zaibach.
They were going to fail and then Eries would be Ana's.
The princess had taken great pleasures in tormenting the Queen and it was time for revenge.
Gauging the distance and time, she nodded her head in triumph. It would be very early morning before she got to Van's camp. All Ana would have to do is wait for the attack, wait and then find Eries.
Once she found the woman, Ana would repay the princess for all her awful words and cruel intentions.
"I don't like this," Van repeated as he changed Escaflowne into its dragon form and then aided Allen in bringing Dilandau up.
"Then why are we doing this?" Allen repeated the same question since Van was repeating the statement. No matter how many times the knight tried to get it through that thick black haired head of the King, Van still stated his displeasure at doing the enemies bidding.
Van's face screwed up into a grimace and Dilandau chuckled low in his throat. With ease that only excessive use and practice brought about, Escaflowne was soon airborne and heading toward the landing docks on the floating island.
Though it did take a candle mark to arrive at the island, it seemed to take forever in the shortest form of forever. Both men, who were not tied up, braced themselves for a fight as muscles tensed and eyes narrowed.
The right most door opened, inviting the trio inside. Van tried to hide his nervous anticipation.
"Can't you hear the blood rush into your ears?" Dilandau mocked. "Getting afraid?"
"Silence," Van barked out harshly.
It took a bit but he was finally able to land, though not very smoothly as all three men were jostled about and Van earned two stares of displeasure. Instead of a whole league of soldiers, there were only two who waited patiently for the men to climb off of the mechanical dragon.
"This way," one stated solemnly as he turned on his heel and marched down the long throat of the hanger.
Allen and Van exchanged uneasy looks but each grabbed an arm of Dilandau's and hauled him along. The General Knight muttered under his breath the entire walk. Allen kept 'accidentally' kicking the side of the man's leg whenever the chance presented itself and Van's grip tightened to an almost painful pressure.
When the two leading soldiers finally stopped it was in front of a set dark wooden double doors. With a nod to each other, the two men grabbed a door ring and pulled open the doors, waving the visitors to continue in.
"This is it," Allen whispered under his breath.
"For you two at least," Dilandau boasted as he was being towed through the doors.
It wasn't as ominous as Van's imagination led him to believe. Instead of it being some sort of devil's den, it was a well lit round room that had several chairs around an expensive looking black marble table. On one wall of the large room, there was a row of doors.
"I'm glad you accepted my invitation," came a smooth, low voice and Van stopped himself from grabbing the hilt of his sword. It was only a handful of words but something about that voice screamed danger to his blood.
"You left us little choice; you have something that we want," Allen spoke up, his voice even as he rolled his shoulders back. "Where is she-Stratego?"
A cloaked figure laughed softly, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and stepped close to the table before sitting down. "Please, sit down and let us discuss this civilly."
Yanking on Dilandau's arm, Allen pulled a chair out for the knight, forced him down into it before sitting down himself to the left of the knight. Van sat to the right of the murderous man.
"What do you want for the princess?" Van demanded.
"I want two things," the man tilted his head to the left as if thinking over his requests. "First, I want you to hand over Dilandau and secondly I require you to be a permanent ally of mine."
Van couldn't believe a lot of things.
One of those things was how Allen didn't manage to chop off his hair during a sword fight.
Another was the way Armand could throw himself down like a child and pitch a fit one moment and then the next was straight laced and barking orders at the maids.
What this guy said climbed all the way to the top of the things he couldn't believe. This man was one orange short of a picnic basket if he thought Van was ever going to be anyone's ally just because they said so.
His temper snapped like a fresh green bean as his dark eyes started to burn with a ruby red.
"No," the King answered, his teeth grinding into each other. If looks were able to kill, Van would have another body to add to his numbers. "There is nothing you can do to make me sacrifice my honor anymore."
Allen blinked in surprise, "Why do you want King Van?"
Stratego turned to face the blonde.
"That is none of your concern, Prince Allen." He then turned back to Van, and though his face was cloaked by the hood and shadows it created, he felt as if he was sitting barefaced with his brother.
The intensity of Van's stare was almost intimidating to anyone who didn't have memories of a crying child in the middle of the night after wetting his bed.
"You, perhaps, having nothing that is worth your honor in your possession but I do," his diplomatically smooth and even voice didn't help soothe Van's lit nerves.
"I would never side with you!" Van shouted as he shot out of his seat and slammed his fists on the hard marble.
"Perhaps you should look behind that door before you making a brash choice," the cloak figured suggested, raising a hand to elegantly gesture toward one of the thick wooden doors within the large room.
Van kept his eyes in a sharp glare, reached to the side, and pulled out his blade
"Why would whatever is behind that door ever effect me?"
"I will allow you the privacy required. I do not wish to incarcerate you, but to have your assistance," the deep, smooth voice clarified but it only left Van more confused. "Go, look. You may do what you will to what is behind that door."
Van gave a soft grunt and instructions for Allen to watch his back if anything happened. The warrior King moved cautiously toward the door. Raising his sword, he sliced through the chains wrapped around the door handle, not having any patience to speak of to wait for a key.
The last time he was made to open a prison door, he found Coron. This was either a trap or someone else was going to be lurking in this hole of a room. If it was Serena, there would be no bargaining, no hesitation. The moment he saw her blonde head, he would disconnect it from her shoulders.
Holding fast to his anger and pain, the man pushed the door open, sword secure in hand, and walked in to the dimly lit room. The small, barred window was the only light provided and acted like a small spotlight on the only other person in the room with him.
Dark eyes adjusted quickly as he covered nearly every inch under his gaze, and there, in the corner, was a lump of something. He stepped down the three stairs, reached behind him with his free hand and slammed the door shut.
The noise jolted the lump into movement as they shot straight up, head swiveling around, trying to grasp where the sound came from. Light colored hair caught Van's attention first, his mind automatically jumped to conclusions that it was Serena and a part of him chuckled. Why not play with her? Why not toy with her and jerk her around like a fish at the end of a fishing rod?
"W-who's there?" came an apprehensive, weak voice. The figure awkwardly stood up to her feet, wobbling a bit before using one wall as a brace.
Van's blood chilled instantly. He knew that voice but it was impossible, wasn't it?
The person cleared their voice making it stronger, "Hello?"
Dear gods, how could it be? Van's vision began to blur. He tried to get his voice to work, tried to move and just remember to breath. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he mustered up enough control to say one simple word.
"Hitomi?"
"Who is-?"
Van forgot everything.
All the plans, hate, and pain he had gone through broke apart and drained out of his heart.
She was alive. The disbelief in her eyes, the strange clothes she wore, the enlarged waistline and the way she breathed, nothing went unnoticed, and everything lead to the same conclusion: she was alive.
For the first time in months, Van felt himself breath again.
Not the warrior, not the king, but the man breathed.
"Hitomi."
"Van," she answered weakly, her voice heavy from fear.
His sword hit the ground, the sound not even heard as the pair fell into each other's arms.
"You're alive," he whispered repeatedly, holding her as closely as her new body would allow.
She broke down and cried, clinging to him for dear life. His life, he was alive. He was warm, real, and there with her, after so long, he was with her again!
"You're okay!" she sobbed back at him, her smile contradicting the flowing tears.
"You're—pregnant." He stood dumbfounded, staring at her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her swollen stomach. Her smile, gods how he had missed that, grew as she put her hands on her stomach.
"Our baby," Hitomi said lightly, her smile softening as Van's eyes grew in understanding. She reached out and secured one of his hands and held it to her stomach. The baby kicked against the foreign hand on its mother and the King nearly lost his ability to stand.
"Ours?" Van repeated weakly.
"Yes."
Hitomi squeaked in surprise but soon let her eyes flutter shut when Van had moved quicker than she ever remembered to press his lips against hers. His lips were slightly chapped as they moved across her softer ones, his fingers burying themselves in her thick dirty-blonde hair.
Possession and hunger flared through Van when Hitomi gripped the fabric directly above his shoulders. There was an answer of a desperate need of reassurance in her body and the radiant glow of pure relief as they melded their mouths together.
It was long moments before the King pulled away from his Queen, his eyes burned, but refused to show a single tear.
Then reality crashed down on him like a pane of glass from the highest floor of a tower. The happiness was short lived as Van realized what Stratego had meant.
Hitomi or his honor.
As he held his wife close, unwilling to let her go for fear she would be a dream and disappear, Van tried to force himself to set up a new plan, but everything was fuzzy with happiness.
Absently, he stroked her hair as she embraced him tightly.
Damn it, Van cursed in his mind. For once in his life, he was at a complete loss.
