A/N: Reminder: This story has been reverted back to the original version. Please see my profile for the revised version.

CHAPTER 2

Van debated whether or not to knock on his own door. He knew it was the polite thing to do, but the lonely part of his imagination pictured various scenarios involving his wife that could be rather amusing to walk in on. It wasn't really up for debate—that wasn't the type of relationship he had with his wife—but it was an idea that crossed his mind, as he guessed it would for any man who was separated from a wife during war.

After leaving the war room, and being someone who needed to feel exertion, he'd detoured up a nearby tower, where he'd breathed in the mid-autumn air. Up on the roof, he had finally been able to push thoughts of his recent humiliation to the back of his mind. He now he felt blessedly neutral. It was good territory, for once. He'd been on edge for so long that it was a wonder he hadn't actually strangled Allen an hour ago. He almost felt like a different person as he gave a quick knock before stepping inside his room.

When he entered, he was unsurprised to find the young Duke Freid seated in a chair next to his bed, where Hitomi sat up against the pillows apparently having just finished her lunch. As Van met his wife's surprised eyes, he saw a flash of unconcealed happiness in her face before she looked away in what he guessed was embarrassment. He gave himself permission to momentarily admire her blush and the striking green of her skittering eyes before he turned his gaze to the rising Chid.

"Cousin, I'm glad you're here to take care of Hitomi! I was just about to take leave of her and let her rest." Typical of the Duke, he said it all with a smile, and even Van's scrutinizing gaze detected no hint of judgment against him after the debacle in the war room.

He bowed his respects. "Thank you, Chid, for looking after my wife while I was otherwise occupied." The boy's cheerful expression didn't falter. Van was grateful for his innocence at this moment, as such graciousness gave him courage to approach his wife with a modicum of pride once he'd seen their cousin out the door.

Hitomi was the first to speak. "Oh I'm glad, you brought the pillow." She reached for it, not quite meeting his eyes, and he handed it over. After an hour clutching it rather pathetically, his hands now felt cold and empty, and a selfish part of him wondered why she needed it more than he when she had all his pillows to lean upon. To give himself something to do, he moved her empty lunch tray from the bed to the table.

It wasn't hard for him to admit that seeing her in his bed, even clothed in her dirty travel clothes, gave him a strange sense of satisfaction and, undeniably, anticipation. They hadn't shared a bed in their seven—five—months of marriage together, so he surprised both of them by choosing to sit on the bed at her feet instead of taking the chair Chid had vacated. Hitomi looked up at him with unfettered shock. He said nothing and kept his eyes on her until she looked away flustered, a reaction he found he liked.

She'd been fidgeting with her hair, and Van now watched with subdued interest as she worked to unlace the band wrapped around her head. After a little nudging, her travel-mussed hair fell across her shoulders in a desperate tangle, a state he'd seen few true ladies display. If his wife was embarrassed by it, she gave no indication, but Van knew she'd probably like to wash clean at some point. He would send a maid to prepare her a hot bath.

It was with practiced discipline that he redirected his thoughts from that direction to focus on what she presently laid on the bed between them.

"I designed this and made it with help from a tailor," she said quietly, a proud note in her voice. He examined it and saw that the band of fabric housed a series of small pockets hiding a handful of tiny tools along with a card of thread, needles, and a delicate pair of scissors. Van couldn't guess why she was traveling with a sewing kit hidden in her hair. Still, he was impressed and admitted as much to her. "That's incredibly clever."

"Thank you," she whispered, bowing her head, apparently in an attempt to hide her very brilliant blush. Van found it curious and wondered if she was really so unused to his compliments. He made a quick examination of his past encounters with her, and it was with a degree of mortification that he realized he couldn't recall having ever expressed any admiration of her, either to her or anyone else. A question flitted through his mind that he didn't wish to examine at the moment but he knew was important nonetheless: if she turned down Allen, which she apparently had, who was so very talented at sweet-talking women, why in the world had she accepted Van's offer when he was so very unskilled at charming women and–he forced himself to consider–even being a decent spouse?

Van couldn't begin to guess the answer to this question, so he shook himself and focused instead on what his wife was doing. She'd taken the scissors to a seam in the pillow and was now deftly exposing the stuffing inside. By the time she looked up and saw him watching her, she'd recovered from her previous embarrassment enough to flash him a smile, and he found himself leaning closer.

"I bet you're wondering why I have this ugly thing," she said. "I had the tailor make this, too. It's a secret satchel. I'm surprised you didn't notice its unusual bulk when you were holding it, but that's what makes it all the more convincing." And with that, she pulled a small packet of papers from a pocket hidden inside and presented it to him.

"These are maps I've sketched up of the destruction of Fanelia and the current defenses, a list of the surviving members of your cabinet, and a couple missives from General Balgus and Minister Arlott," she explained. The gentle tone of her voice belied the importance of what she was conveying to him. He could hardly believe what he heard. She continued, "They helped me escape and have been working underground defenses around the remaining capital. After I discovered the information from Yukari and Amano, I told them I would deliver anything they needed into your hands."

Van took the proffered papers as if in a daze. She'd gathered all this information on her own? He couldn't think of anything to say; he was stuck staring dumbly at the unbroken seals on the top letter from General Balgus. The months he'd wondered whether she was alive, he never really wondered what she was doing with herself if she were.

He thought back to when she'd been selected as his queen and recollected something of her passion for and dedication to his country, but he'd never bothered to understand why, even though she was native to Freid and not Fanelia. She'd taken on the mantle of Queen of Fanelia with a natural zealousness he had taken for granted in peacetime, and he had watched dispassionately as his people became their people.

A memory of his birthday gala—the day they met—came unbidden to his mind: he found that they danced together as if they had always done so, and while he normally shirked being examined so closely by his subjects—especially at formal events—he'd felt presence of mind enough to feel pride instead of horror when he heard murmurs of "How well they look together!" as they crossed the floor.

He was grateful that he could also recall how she looked night: dignified and rather lovely in a golden dress that brought out her honeyed hair and green eyes. Was that all he had allowed himself to admire then? Was it a memory or wishful thinking that called to mind her smiling eyes gazing up at him? Had he unconsciously been attracted to her warmth then, something he could only just now admit? He definitely remembered that she was one of the few who had no pretense or guile about her, something that certainly made her more tolerable (if not appealing) to him. Ultimately, when his advisors had put her forward as one who'd be a good match, he'd easily and casually agreed on her and thought no more of it.

Now he felt in a great swell of gratitude how very lucky he was that she had agreed to be his Queen.

He must've been staring dazed for a long while because his thoughts were interrupted by her hand on his arm. He felt a warmth in her touch and found himself staring at her fingers, feeling the press of each one against his skin. It was a moment before he comprehended her speaking.

"Van, please forgive me for humiliating you. I am sorry. I felt safer traveling that way, and I could transport intelligence without coming under suspicion. I've always noticed soldiers hate looking at pregnant women," she added with a little laugh, and he guessed it was to alleviate some discomfort she must've felt. When he didn't respond right away, she began to pull her hand away, but, without pausing to second-guess himself, he snatched it back and pressed it to his lips.

"Hitomi, thank you. You've done more than I can express gratitude for."

"You're not angry?" came her whispered plea.

"No," he said, pressing another kiss to her hand. He didn't say all that he felt, but eventually he'd recognize her reappearance in his life this day was a turning point for him, with the feigned pregnancy as its pivot. For now, though, it was enough that she had done it for him and their country, and as a means of keeping herself safe.

He'd kept his head bowed up until this point, mostly out of an unacknowledged sense of his unworthiness of her, but now he looked up into her face. The sun had come through a split in the curtains just so, and he saw it reflecting off the green of her eyes.

And then he noticed her tears.

It was an instinct he didn't understand and wasn't going to fight, but as she began to sob, Van pulled her into his arms and held her to himself. Not knowing what else to do, he stayed like that until her cries had ebbed into silence.

Eventually she said, "I think I need to sleep, Van."

"Ok." He let her go and she curled into the pillows on his bed. Awkward as it felt to do, he made himself cover her with a blanket. Then, in yet another surprising act towards her today, he bent over and whispered to her, "Please stay, Hitomi."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she nodded, and he guessed she was crying again. He didn't marvel that she was so tired after her journey here.

Stepping quietly, he closed the curtains on the bed before slipping out of the room. He had work and planning to do, he needed to look over the papers his wife brought him, and he really wanted a nap.

But tonight he wished to be with his wife.