CHAPTER 3
Early morning sunlight streamed in through the large windows of Eries's tea room as she and Celena sat down to breakfast, casting dappled shadows on the tablecloth as it shone through the lacy curtains. The day promised to be beautiful; the storm last night had cleared away any lingering clouds, leaving the sky a brilliant, warm blue. Millerna had also joined them, wanting to spend a little time with her sister before having to deal with the usual stuffy counselors and ministers in her morning court. Eries noted that even though Millerna wore her usual cheerful smile, her eyes looked tired, betrayed the enormity of the weight that she had to shoulder even with her elder sister's help.
"Good morning Eries. Celena," the young queen greeted as she gracefully lowered herself into her seat in a gentle swishing of her voluminous skirts.
Dressed in formal attire, Eries noted with small smile of appreciation. Over the last half year Millerna seemed to have matured with a dizzying speed. She no longer wore her hair tied back in a tomboyish ponytail, but instead had begun to leave it down in adherence to more traditional Asturian styles. She'd also taken to wearing full court gowns, finally appearing to have come to the realization that she and she alone would have to take up the burden of the throne since King Aston could no longer bear its strain. Of course, this hadn't stopped her from occasionally donning those outlandish Ezgardian trousers and slipping off to go riding for hours at a time. This was still Millerna, and some habits were simply too old and too stubborn to die. And as much as Eries disapproved of trousers on principle, she understood the reason why Millerna needed to escape every now and then. Who could blame the poor thing?
"Council meeting again?" Eries asked, passing her sister the teapot.
Millerna nodded, exhaling gustily at the mention of being cooped up for the rest of the morning listening to the nobles bickering back and forth while she tried to remain as neutral and fair as she could and tried with equal determination not to let her mind drift to imagine all of the more amusing things she'd rather be doing. Or places to be sailing away to.
"Millerna?"
The young woman started, blushing delicately as she was jolted from her mental dallying.
Thinking about not letting my mind wander, and then letting my mind wander, she chastised herself. Oh, Millerna, pull yourself together!
"Yes?" she said, flashing Eries a guilty smile. "I'm sorry. I just can't bear the idea of hearing another argument about how much we should budget for civic programs and whether nor not the Asturian economy will reach the level it was prior to the war, et cetera, et cetera and so on. It's so dull!"
Eries smiled, a soft expression that somehow managed to evoke reproach, fondness and sisterly wisdom all at once. She set her teacup down and reached over to give her sister's hand a small squeeze of affection and reassurance.
"I know it isn't as interesting as spending time with your horses, but it's important nonetheless. You're ministers and the Council are wanting to make sure Asturia is on the right path to rebuild."
Millerna gave an extravagant roll of her eyes in mock exasperation at Eries's characteristic tendency to mother-hen everyone around her under the age of twenty. Or everyone around her period.
"I know, I know. Please just let me complain for a bit."
"I'll allow it."
Chuckling lightly, Millerna turned her attention across the table to Celena. The merriment in her eyes was quickly extinguished, however, as her gaze was met with eyes ringed with the telltale bruises of another poor night's sleep. Celena had barely spoken a word since she'd woken up, nor touched her food, still too shocked and disturbed upon recollection of the night before. Her hunched figure and disheveled curls made her seem diminished, so frail that a strong wind might blow her away like a filmy strand of spider's silk.
She struggled to suppress a shiver at the livid images of young lives snuffed out in rivers of blood, their screams of agony echoing around her as she had stood in the middle of it all, powerless to make it stop.
Stop. Stop. I just want this all to stop!
"Celena, are you all right?"
Her head snapped up to see Eries and Millerna staring at her with concern, the sunlight spilling golden across their hair, warm and radiant and normal, an entire universe away even though they sat so near to her.
"I...no," she replied quietly. Her long, white fingers curled around her teacup, her tremors creating ripples in the steaming liquid. "I couldn't sleep again."
"Again?" the princess asked, an elegant brow creasing her forehead as she studied her ward. "Isn't that valerian root Dr. Teschen gave you working?"
"Not really. It's not stopping the dreams." Celena stared up at Eries, her eyes pleading and desperate. "May I see him today? I don't know what else to do."
Eries nodded. "Of course. I'm a bit surprised, however. It's been so many months. I'd have thought you'd be feeling better by now."
"Why don't you try eating something?" offered Millerna. "I'm sure that would help at least a little."
Celena shook her head. The lumps of hot porridge reminded her too much of quivering human flesh and she bit hard on her bottom lip to ride out the sudden wave of nausea.
"No. I'm really not hungry."
"You're ill," Eries declared, her tone leaving no room for dissent. "I'll send for the doctor. Go upstairs and rest for now."
Celena nodded and stood, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth and excused herself as politely as she could, rushing out of the room to leave a heavy and taut silence in her wake. This sort of thing had happened before, many times in fact, but it didn't make it any less hard to watch. Frankly Eries never knew exactly what to do or say when Celena retreated into herself, which was often, cocooning herself behind layers of emotional barriers that neither Eries nor Allen had the faintest idea of how to breach. And while Celena was a genuinely sweet girl who tried to do what was expected of her, it was frustrating how difficult to read she could be, how little she expressed herself. All Eries could do was bear along and try as best she could to care for her and educate her in her brother's absence. At times a small and secret part of the princess wanted to get angry at Allen for leaving her with his sister, but in the end, what else could he have done? There had been no one else he'd trusted enough, no other place he'd felt was safe enough.
"That poor thing," murmured Millerna, her eyes sympathetically trailing after the girl. "And I thought I had it rough. I can't even imagine what she's been through."
"She's still suffering from all the effects of what happened to her," Eries replied, her voice low in case of any errant eavesdroppers. It wouldn't do any good having any maids overhearing about such a bizarre and sensitive situation and then taking it upon themselves to spread the story around with their own inventive additions. "I'm sure the nightmares have something to do with it, but I don't know if I want to tell her. I'm afraid of making things worse. No one really knows how long it's going to last or whether or not she'll be able to fully recover."
"It's just so unbelievable," Millerna mused in quiet awe, staring into her cup as she mulled over every horrific last detail that had been by relayed to them by the Strategos of Zaibach himself, of needles and a little girl child wailing for her mother. "Missing ten years of your life like that. Living it as a totally different person. It's a miracle Allen found her at all."
"Yes," Eries replied solemnly, carefully stirring more sugar into her tea. "We should be grateful enough for that much, but I don't think she'll ever be the way she was before."
"I suppose," sighed Millerna. "Let's change the subject, shall we? Are you coming with me to the Council meeting or are you going to check in on Father?"
Eries turned to face her younger sister.
"I'll be going to see Father," she answered, a somewhat guilty expression stealing over her usually reserved features. "I haven't been visiting him as often as I should. I worry that he isn't going to last much longer."
Millerna felt her mood darken even further at the mention of Grava, the once robust and ruthless king and doting father now wasting away in his bed, having apparently lost his will to live after she had run off after Allen and Zaibach had come for Hitomi on her wedding day. She couldn't deny her feelings of shame every time she looked his gaunt, ashen face. It was partly because of this guilt that she hadn't visited him very often at first after assuming her role as regent; if she hadn't been so childish and put her desires above everyone else's, he wouldn't have gotten ill in the first place. It was only until Eries had assured her that it was all in the past that she had mustered up the courage to see him at all. And Eries, as usual, had been right, because what had happened six months ago no longer mattered; it was only the time she had left with him now that counted. And after having grown up without a mother, Millerna wasn't about to let another parent disappear from her life without letting him know how much she loved him even though she herself hadn't been the easiest person to love.
So much for a happier conversation, she thought wearily. I shouldn't have brought it up.
"I'm sorry I can't go with you. I'll stop in and visit with him after lunch."
"He knows how hard you're trying," Eries said, offering her sister a gentle smile. "Please don't let yourself feel so guilty over things you can't control. I don't think Father made a mistake when he chose you as his heir."
Millerna smiled in return, a warm and genuine smile of gratitude for Eries's endless patience and support that had always managed to catch her every time she'd managed to trip over the more unforgiving obstacles that life had thrown at her.
"Sister, I think you'd have been better for Regent," she replied. "You always know what to do."
"Not always,"Eries said with a slight shake of her head, her smile taking on a wry edge. "It's only because I've lived a little longer than you have and seen a little more. Think of this as good practice; the more you listen to your counselors, the more you'll learn from them and learn to make decision's accordingly. Always remember that you have the final word. They can only present you with ideas. A good ruler will listen to all ideas and chose the course that best benefits the country."
"See what I mean?" Millerna teased. "I never would have thought of all that."
"That's because you're still young and inexperienced. They'll try to take advantage of that, but don't let them."
Millerna nodded, sipping at her tea.
"Have you decided on what to do with that Zaibach prisoner?" Eries asked as she turned her own attention to her breakfast.
"No,"Milerna said with a little roll of her eyes. "That's one of the issues being argued about the most. About half of the ministers want her executed, but the other half want her interrogated. And what little we could even get out of her is mostly what we already knew. I don't know if she's deliberately withholding information, or if she really doesn't know any more than what she's been told. Then again, it's not as if she's a willing talker."
Eries glanced over at her curiously.
"Is she difficult?"
Millerna made a disdainful face, as if Eries had really had to ask such a question, making it quite clear that any attempts at diplomacy had failed in a spectacular fashion.
"Terribly, according to the reports from the captain of the guards. In the past few weeks alone she hasn't even spoken a single word. She just glares at everyone. She's got a lot of pride, apparently."
"Mmm," hummed Eries thoughtfully. "Troubles upon troubles. As long as she's secured I don't think we've much to worry about. For the moment, at any rate. Still, it is a matter that needs to be solved quickly. I wouldn't allow her too much more time. It might give any lingering Zaibach supporters a chance to try to barter for her freedom."
"I agree. But you don't really think there's still Zaibach supporters out there?"
"Asturia herself was a Zaibach supporter until just a few months ago, in case you forgot," Eries reminded her pointedly. "It's still too early to tell what's going to happen."
"You're right," conceded Millerna. "As usual. I only hope we end up making the right decisions."
For all of the young queen's fears about making the right decisions, little was she aware that both she and her sister had already made quite a bad decision by assuming that their conversation had gone unheard, as much as they had tried to speak in low tones to keep the help from gossiping. In this, at least, they'd been partially successful; their words hadn't reached the ears of any chatty maids or butlers.
They had, however, reached Celena's.
"We've reinforced the outer wall here, here, and here," said Ruhm, one clawed finger scratching slightly on the parchment as he moved it from point to point. A crude map of the Fanelian capital was drawn on it, detailing only necessary features that needed the most attention and repair, like the castle and the defensive wall circling the city. Ruhm had been the first to offer help, as his tribe had been in service to Fanelia and its royal family for generations. Van could not have been more grateful for the beast-man's aid. Currently, Ruhm was in charge of overseeing the progress of the outer wall, doubling its thickness to make it less easy to crumble should there be another attack in the future.
Van bent over the map, Merle beside him as always, peering at it with interest. They were gathered in the council hall of the castle, not all of which had been completely restored. There was still a gaping hole in the southern wall where one of Zaibach's guymelefs had burst through and stones littered the corners along with shreds of once beautifully woven tapestries.
Merle looked askance at Van, seeing how his profile was beginning to become less boyish and more hardened, more like a king. But underneath that sharp expression he now wore, she could still sense that quality of gentleness that detested the bloodshed that kingship sometimes brought.
He's so much like his mother, she thought, and a pang of sadness surged through her at the memory of Varie. She'd been so beautiful, yet so melancholy, as if she'd always known that her life would be one of tragedy, and it was that same melancholy that Merle saw reflected in Van.
He thinks too much about what he's lost. Poor Lord Van.
"Some parts of that wall haven't been maintained for quite a while," Ruhm's gruff voice continued, breaking into Merle's thoughts. "That's part of why it was so easy for Zaibach to break through. That and the main gate, which we've decided to strengthen with steel plating, if Your Majesty will permit us."
Van nodded.
" Good work. I'll be along shortly to inspect it. Merle, what's the status of the relief effort?"
The cat-girl's ears perked at the sound of her name and she sat up a little straighter.
"A little better than a few weeks ago, Lord Van," she answered. "But it's still tough to get all the debris cleaned out and enough resources for homes and food without very many people. The soldiers that Freid sent just aren't enough."
Van sighed heavily, his brows knitting frustration over his dark red-brown eyes. Freid had suffered the exact same fate as Fanelia, having been almost completely obliterated by Zaibach and losing its beloved Duke. Now it was just as crippled, just as in need of aid as they were, and the help was short in coming.
"I know that, Merle, but Freid can't spare any more men,"said Van. "It's a miracle in itself that they offered to send anybody at all."
"Well, what about Asturia?" Merle demanded, crossing her arms defiantly and scowling. "We've barely seen any of them around here. The war hardly even touched them. They've got plenty of people to help and yet they're not doing too much of anything except for Allen and Lord Dryden."
"Asturia is having a lot of internal problems, from what I hear," interjected Ruhm. "Their king is very ill and with Regent Millerna's attention on her father, the government seems to be at a standstill, but she's doing what she can. Not to mention that Zaibach captain they've captured. There still hasn't been a decision on what to do with her."
"Her?" asked Van, puzzled by the suddenness of a rather important bit of news such as this. "I didn't think Zaibach allowed women in the military."
Ruhm shrugged.
"Heck if I know. I'm just repeating what I hear from the Freidian soldiers. Apparently, she was one hell of a fighter so they let her in, or something like that. I don't know much more than that. They should have hung her by now, that's what I think. It may be they're just holding off because she's a woman, but in my opinion, woman or not, she's still Zaibach She deserves what's coming to her."
Van didn't reply. A deep gloom settled over his face at Ruhm's words, bringing to mind terrifying memories of another Zaibach captain he'd crossed swords with more than once; Dilandau Albatou.
He tried to suppress a shudder as he recalled those bloodthirsty, hellish red eyes that had seemed to glow like fiery pits when they'd fought. Van was convinced what he had been fighting had not been human. Dilandau's strength and the delight he took in inflicting pain had seemed transcend the limits of mere mortal expression. He had lived only to kill; it didn't seem to matter who, until Van's sword tip had found the boy's cheek, leaving a scar that had turned the whole of Dilandau's malevolence on him from that moment until the end.
He might be gone, Van thought. But I'll always see him in Allen's sister. I can never look at her again. I can barely even look at him sometimes just because of what I know.
He raised his head and, seeing his companions giving him concerned glances, shook it lightly to return his focus to the problems at hand.
"What's her name?" he asked, breaking the silence that had fallen thickly on them.
"Ah," said Ruhm, wrinkling his heavy brows. "I'm not entirely sure. I hear it said a lot of different ways. Raphine, Refinu, Refina. Something like that. Why the sudden interest, Lord Van?"
"I think I should be interested," the young king replied, narrowing his eyes a bit at the beast-man. "For Fanelia's sake. Just knowing that there's still a high-ranking Zaibach soldier alive..." he sighed again, running a hand over his face. "I'm just surprised to only be hearing about this now."
Ruhm shrugged, spreading his thick hands in a gesture of defeat. "It's not a fact I'm sure Asturia wants known, but it seems people have begun to talk anyway. You can't keep something like that a secret for long."
"True. Still, it's one more thing to keep an eye on and I'm feeling stretched enough as it is."
Ruhm studied him with a compassionate, yet stern expression.
"Lad," he said, his voice soft and dropping all formalities and speaking to the boy just as a friend. "No one ever said this was going to be easy. You've got a lot to deal with. I know you didn't ask to be king, but we don't often get to choose our own paths. Sometimes we just do what has to be done. You don't have to go at it alone. You've got a lot of people and a lot of friends willing to help you, Merle and I included. So anything we can do, tell us. But don't push us away. We love this country too and we want to do everything we can, all right?"
He senses Van's grief too, Merle saw.
"Lord Van?" she said softly, cocking her head sympathetically at his brooding. "Are you all right?"
Van's eyes refocused on her and he gave her a lopsided, brittle smile.
"I'm fine," he said and gave her an affectionate rub on the head. "I'm glad that I have you two around. I appreciate what you're doing for me and for Fanelia. I couldn't do it without you. I just-"
"I know," Merle replied gently, already guessing the path his thoughts were traveling. She pressed her face against his shoulder and twined her arms around him, as if she had the power to shield him from his own sadness. "I know. But we'll get through this together, like Ruhm said."
Ruhm watched in pity but said nothing. Van needed this moment to acknowledge his feelings. There had been enough words. He had to mourn and let himself be human before again assuming the mantle of leadership.
At length, he said, "My Lord?"
Van looked up, his face resolute.
"Yes, I know. Merle, let's make our rounds. And Ruhm?"
"Sire?"
"Keep me informed about the Zaibach captain. Anything you hear from now on, bring it to me."
Ruhm dipped his head in confirmation.
"And one more thing."
The beast man glanced up, awaiting instructions, but only saw Van smile, a true, kind smile like a blue sky after the grey clouds of rain have vanished.
"Thank you."
Celena stood hunched against the drawing room wall, rooted to the floor as firmly as though chained with iron. She'd started to make her way towards her room, but the words of Eries and Millerna had drifted out to her and coiled inside of her ears to reel her back near the door. There the words of their whispering lay, hot and pulsating with an ugly life of their own, slithering through her mind like a nest of vipers:
"Living like a totally different person."
"…All that's happened to her…"
"…Can never be the way she was…"
A violent shudder rocked over her, bringing with it a fresh wave of queasiness. She sunk to the floor like a wilted flower, unable to withstand the mounting pressure within her skull, nor the sickening whirl of voices and faces clamoring over each other in her memory, begging for her to hear them, to recognize them.
What do they mean? she thought, the sting of unshed tears making her vision swim. What did they mean by "a different person?" Was I someone else? But…I don't…remember…
I…I'm me, right? I've always been me. There is no other person. It isn't true what they're saying, right? Right?
Still the muddying, vertiginous rush of faces, both known and unknown, pressed against her like a leaden coffin lid, smothering her thoughts down to one single question:
Who am I?