Temper the Soul
Chapter 27
By Zapenstap
They ordered a plane in to fly him back to Taravren, for which Damion was grateful. The air-conditioned private cabin was a lot more comfortable than any place he had been in a long time. He sat alone on cushioned seat that was something like a sofa, except that it was attached to the inside wall of the plane, staring at nothing with his hands in his lap and his head resting against the wall. The shutters to the outside had been drawn. His eyes still stung and watered and he didn't think he was ready for excessive sunlight. There was nothing more frustrating than being unable to see, and constantly having to blink away tears. He thanked God he had not really lost his eyes. He still wondered why he hadn't.
Julia.
He knew what she had done and why she had done it; he just didn't know how to feel about it. It had been for him, but he still felt hurt and betrayed and confused. If she was going to behave that way, why not just wait for Chang to arrest the man and then let Damion kill him? He would feel so much better if he had been allowed to slit the man's throat. The image of spilling Gardiner's blood made him feel better.
Those kinds of thoughts scared him a little, but he couldn't stop them. He knew he had frightened Audrey, maybe everyone, but the images calmed him down. Every princely lesson and godly principle he had ever learned cried out against it, but the pain in his heart overwhelmed those voices. He needed to do something, he needed to act, and fighting or killing had the appropriate amount of emotional outpour he needed. But now he couldn't. The guard who had bruised him was already dead; he had seen his body on the ground, and Julia had stolen away his real target. There was no one left to kill. They should all be thankful he didn't pick any random replacement. Everyone who followed Gardiner was guilty, but he couldn't make himself go that far.
He knew it was wrong, but everything that happened since he came out to the plains was wrong. Manny being dead was wrong. Himself in a prison, beaten at regular intervals, was wrong. Julia helping his enemy escape, sleeping with the enemy to help him escape, was wrong. She had to have done that. She probably enjoyed it too. And Audrey. Audrey had also slept with Gardiner, though she claimed not to remember.
He closed his eyes. He had to stop thinking that way. She had no reason to lie to him and she was a victim. She said she loved him. How long had he waited to hear that? It was wrong to keep her at a distance, to blame her for any of this. He knew that, but his anger kept flying in directions he didn't intend. What he had said to Heero, or maybe just the way he had said it, that hurt too, like so much was hurting, but it also had felt good. For a moment he had felt in control again, powerful, like he had reclaimed some of his balance, found a focal point, and if it was painful at least he was doing it to himself and not having it done to him. It still felt wrong. His conscience told him the difference. That sick feeling inside, that feeling that all was not right, that somewhere he had made a mistake… he had always listened to it before, and it was screaming at him now. But he rationalized that Heero had deserved those words. Yes, he had come for him in a dangerous place, but that was nothing to a gundam pilot. He was sure the man had barely broken a sweat to retrieve a tattered and abused prince from a cellar beneath a lonely house. Maybe that was unfair too, but he couldn't think straight. What Heero had said about Manny, the cold, cruel way he had confirmed something Damion half believed wasn't really true had felt like a second stab wound in his side and he had fought back the only way he could.
"Damion?"
He looked up to see Audrey, still dressed in those white silk pants and blouse, walk into his private cabin from the main room. Two men followed her in, men who had come with the plane from Taravren. He recognized his physician and his tailor absently. Audrey made room for them to come in with their materials and close the door.
The sight of her eased him somewhat. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, so cool and composed again now that they were in public. For awhile, in that dungeon, he had seen a frightened, affectionate and vulnerable side of her. He still liked it most when she smiled or laughed, but he couldn't think of anything funny to say right now. He attempted to smile, watching the way her dark hair curled around her cheeks in the heat. Her skin reminded him of white rose petals. Those were the kind of flowers he wanted to get her. White roses, dark stemmed with few leaves, but lots of thorns. Maybe that would amuse her. He loved her smile.
The only dampener was that he had learned that the Council Lords had found out about her past with Gardiner. She knew it too. They had been told when they boarded the plane and talked to Iselin through a vid-screen. They knew she was not a virgin first choice, and perhaps even considered that it consorting with the enemy, though in the past. He would have to discuss it with them. Knowing they knew, he wasn't sure it was still permissible to make her his wife.
"You can't go back into the city dressed like that, Prince Damion," his tailor said pleasantly, as if he couldn't see the bruises on his face. Damion had gotten to take a look at them in the mirror and had almost broken the glass with his fist from humiliation. As his tailor began laying out a new outfit for him, complete with shined shoes and silver cuffs, Damion's physician kindly asked that he remove his tattered coat and shirt so that he might be examined. They were both very professional and blank-faced about the matter, for which Damion was grateful after so many looks of shock and pity, but when he shrugged off his shirt, even the doctor shook his head.
His chest and sides were bruised purple and a dull, sickly green. Old healing bruises were overlapped by newer ones. There was a small slash or two on his arms as well, and dried blood on his skin. It was Audrey he shifted his gaze toward, noting her expression. He was afraid she would turn away, but she didn't. It didn't even register to him that she had never seen him bare to the waist before, or anything less than fully clothed. He wasn't attractive right now and he wished she would stop staring. She looked like she was on the verge of speaking, or even crying, but she retained her calm and her silence.
His physician examined him and then smiled. "Banged up, but luckily nothing appears broken. We will have to do an x-ray to see if you have any fractured ribs for certain, but I don't think it's has bad as it could be. I have a salve for the bruises that will speed up their healing. You should be right as rain in a little while. I think what you need most is nutrition, lots of water and some sleep."
He had already had food and water. It was the first thing requested when he got on the plane.
The doctor and tailor bowed out after he thanked them.
"We will be landing in the next half hour," Audrey told him.
"Then I had better get ready," he replied almost on top of her. He didn't want to talk right now.
It must have occurred to her that to do this he would have to completely undress. Flushing, she walked out of the room hastily. He tried not to think about the decision he was going to have to make about her. He had to make the best choice for himself and for the nation and it had little to do with the way he felt about her, if he could even sort that out at all. It would be something he would have to discuss with the Council Lords. The wedding was on until he said differently, and he might have to say differently.
When the plane landed, the airstrip was practically flooded with reporters when they landed and Damion walked out of the plane dressed in silver gray from head to toe. From the main cabin, Taravren soldiers formed something like a solid wall around him and Audrey, shielding him from sight. The reporters were told by his publicists that he was tired and would speak to the press at a later date. Beyond the reporters, lining the airway, were people, all kinds of people, but he couldn't see them through the human wall. Ten feet and he was being helped into a limo, Audrey just behind him. Once inside, he could look out the tinted windows, amazed. Taravrens, his people, lined the streets all the way back to the palace. It was the same as when he had left.
The palace gates opened to admit his limo, but closed after he had entered. When he emerged, the Council Lords descended from the door to meet him. He had never seen them look so relieved.
"I request attendance on my mother," Damion said before they could open their mouths. They stopped in surprise at the bluntness of his request, but there was nothing they could do except nod and part in order to let him inside. Moving quickly, he walked up the step and through the door, ignoring them. He noticed that Lady Alice had taken hold of Audrey out of the corner of his eye and that she replied to whatever she was asked hastily, but he didn't think much about it. He wanted to be alone for awhile anyway.
Being home both relieved and horrified him. Everything was familiar and everything was different. When he saw Terese standing alone at the bottom of the stairs with several suitcases scattered around her feet, he remembered why. Everything here had Manny's signature on it. His heart lurched, the world spun and he fought to not start thinking about all the things that were going to feel empty like this for the rest of his life.
Terese bit her lip, her eyes puffy from tears and her face splotched. She moved toward him mechanically, jerkily forcing her limbs to operate. A moment later she was standing just in front of him, looking at him in the face and then looking away again. Her eyes kept drifting toward him and darting away, as if she could not make up her mind what she wanted to focus on.
"Damion, I'm so glad you're back," she said, but came out as a barely constrained wail, loaded with unshed tears. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, wild black hair flying. She spoke in subdued whisper, but spoke urgently. "I can't stay here, in Taravren I mean. I… I'm resigning. I have family elsewhere and I… I just can't."
He only looked at her, feeling strangely quiet and dead inside. Terese was leaving Taravren. Everthing felt unreal, but he knew now it was really happening. It felt real when Heero told him he had buried Manny in a forgotten field. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly. "Take care of yourself."
She lifted a hand to her face, covering her nose as tears leaked out of her eyes. She looked so fragile, like a glass doll that might break if he blew on it. Gently, he took her into an embrace and she began sobbing into his chest. He had never realized how small she was before. Were all girls this small? Had Manny thought she was small? Her fire and energy usually made her seem like an explosion or a loose cannon, but he supposed all the emotion and energy that burned in joy would also pour out in grief.
"I'm sorry!" she cried, choking and pulling out of his embrace. "I'm going to miss the wedding and everything, I know, but I just can't bear it here. There are so many ghosts. I am glad you are all right. I was so worried and…"
"I understand," he said, and smiled at her, wiping a tear away from her cheek. "Thank you. Good luck."
He ordered some of the soldiers to help his former staff manager to the airport and dismissed the rest. When Terese had picked up her bags and left the palace, still casting glances over her shoulder, he kept moving, glad to be alone again, and feeling a little strange about it too.
After winding his way through the palace to the East Wing, he stopped before his mother's apartments and took a deep breath. Straightening his coat, he knocked on the door and was called inside. Softly, he opened the door and shut it.
"Hi, mom," he said quietly, like he often had when he expected a reprimand.
Her rooms were cool and darkened. His mother sat at a small polished wood table, writing on a sheet of stationery under a lamp light. When he came in, she set down her pen and stood. A moment later he was folded in an embrace like he was ten, having his hair and backed stroked like a child. "I'm okay, mom," he said, but his voice quavered.
She released him and held him back by the shoulders, inspecting his face. He tried not to feel like a child, but he couldn't help it.
"You look like you've been in a fight," she said testily. "You used to come home looking like this when you were a bit smaller if you don't remember."
"That was quite some time ago," he said, looking away. He was quickly losing his sense of power again, feeling weak and helpless. The reminder of the fights he used to get in didn't help; they were usually with Manny.
"Not that long ago," she muttered, and stroked his hair. "I'm just glad to have you returned to me. No one here could sleep or eat since we found out." Her eyes shimmered and her expression changed, her eyes softening. "Damion, I'm so sorry. Manny meant a lot to everyone here. We all loved him, but I know what he meant to you."
He tried not to cry and he couldn't help that either. All he could manage was to look away, blinking tears from his eyes. "I don't want to talk about this," he choked, and firmly willed his eyes to dry up.
"Damion…"
"No."
Her mouth had set in a disapproving line, but she stepped back and folded her hands. Then she just looked at him, like he was a prince instead of her son. "I am relieved you have returned," she said. "I yield the authority of Taravren back over to you."
He swallowed nervously, hesitating. "Thank you, mother," he said, and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad to be back."
We walked hurriedly to his rooms, his mind buzzing with emotions he didn't want to feel, grief he didn't want to feel, anger he didn't want to feel. When he came to his room he shed half of his clothes and his shoes and left them where they lay. His own bed had never looked so big or comfortable or clean or completely designed to sleep in. He fell on it heavily and refused to let himself be afraid of closing his eyes. He was home again and nothing could hurt him here. Here, he was Regent. Here, he was a Prince, almost a King. He would be crowned in a few days. He had to talk to Audrey. Heero. No, there was nothing to say to Heero. He had only been kidding himself that he could make friends, especially with someone like that, though it was Heero's oblivion to accepted social forms (like princehood) that Damion had once thought in his favor.
When he fell into a deep, much-needed sleep, his dreams were fitful.
*****
Heero leaned against the wall in the main entryway of the palace in Taravren, his arms crossed. Damion had left them all behind in a plane, though several hours later Relena had called in another to fly them back here. He and Relena (and Duo too) had meant to follow Damion, to board with him and try and talk things out, but the Taravren soldiers stopped them. Some of them were men Heero had fought with, but when he tried to persuade them to let him on board, they simply said it was the prince's desire to fly home with Audrey only, no exceptions. Heero couldn't believe it. Relena couldn't believe it. Duo thought Damion might have gone insane.
Duo and Relena were both with him now.
"I keep thinking I get a room here if I just show up," Duo muttered. "But we're like tourists now."
The Palace staff had offered them beverages and guides, but for the large part they were ignored, though a few sympathetic looks were shot their way by people who remembered them. Heero wondered if even Terese would have settled them against Damion's wishes, but they had learned that she had left.
When they finally arrived in Taravren they learned that Damion had been asleep for almost ten hours, and when he awoke he had been wild. He fired servants, ordered old furniture thrown out and replaced with new, reprimanded his guardsmen and his staff and most strangely, ignored the advice of every Council Lord that spoke to him. They all advised the same thing, Heero had learned, that Damion arrange to take a break to grieve and recover from his experience. It was unlike the Council Lords to be so generous and unlike Damion to deny them point-blank. But in fact, Damion was not doing anything all that extraordinary. He was using powers he had always had (and must have known he had); he just never used them before.
"What's he trying to prove?" Duo said. "That Gardiner's right by showing how flawed this kind of government can be?"
"I don't think so," Relena said. "Audrey was right. He's had his control taken away from him and he's just trying to get it back."
"But firing people?" Duo said. "Isn't that really extreme?"
"Word has it the people he fired deserved it. He just didn't…before." He was too nice then.
"Man," Duo said. "What he said to you, Heero… How can you be so calm?"
Heero looked away, watching the servants carrying linen tablecloths down to the washroom. He shouldn't let the things Damion said affect him, but he felt it anyway, to the point where there was no use denying his emotions. He was upset. As angry as it had made him, he was more hurt, and concerned, which felt very strange to him. "He was right about some things," he said slowly. "Maybe he was right about all of it."
"That's nonsense," Relena said. "I feel sorry for him, but Damion was out of line. We came all that way for him and he treated us like…"
"He treated me like a soldier," Heero said quietly. "He's right. We aren't peers. I've always felt uncomfortable here and I've always resented Damion for being…who he is. I think he always knew that. It didn't matter how nice he was about it."
"Heero…" Relena said, sounding amazed.
"I'm not saying it was right," Heero added. No, because it had it hurt and made him angry. "I'm just saying it makes sense."
"Then I'm guilty too," Relena said. "I left first."
"Because I made you cry."
Relena sighed. "If anyone, it's me who should take the blame. I had to kiss him and ruin everything and then I told you you weren't Damion's friend."
"That was my fault too."
Duo snickered. "Sorry," he said, "but you two are really funny. Trying to make each other feel better by making yourselves feel worse! If I recall, Damion wasn't too upset about any of that stuff when it happened. I really think he was just reaching for something to be mad about. And, you know, he might pull out of it okay. He's gone out of his way for years to be really nice and that isn't going to completely evaporate in a few days."
"But he's so angry," Relena said quietly. "And he won't grieve. It's Manny that's really upsetting him, not us, and he won't grieve. He looks terrible."
Duo shrugged his shoulders and leaned his head back against the wall. "I hate to say it, but he looked kind of like you, Heero."
Heero was silent. Since Damion had rejected him as a friend he had thought about a lot of things he never really thought about before. He was beginning to understand that Relena wasn't the only person he took for granted, or the only person he had hurt by being callous and mysterious. Duo and the other pilots were used to it, they had seen how much he had changed, but Damion had always found it odd. The fact was that Heero valued his association with Damion. He liked coming to Taravren. He liked talking to Damion and it had nothing to do with his being a prince. Maybe that was why Damion had allowed it. He had always thought that his privileges here were a result of helping Damion through Clara's Rebellion two years ago, that Damion invited him out of an obligation of gratitude and also because he liked to invite Relena over, but maybe that's not how it was. Maybe Damion just… liked him. Maybe he had been working much harder then Heero had been aware to become friends. Until now.
"I need to talk to him," Heero said, pushing himself away from the wall.
"He doesn't want to talk to you, Heero," Duo said as if it were a newsflash Heero hadn't heard yet. "If you try he'll probably just hit you, or more likely have you thrown in jail. I was always afraid he was going to do that. Especially when you hit him that last time. Man, I thought that was it."
"It doesn't matter," Heero said. "In fact, it might help."
"What are you talking about?" Duo demanded.
"It might help if we fight," Heero said. "But either way I have to go talk to him."
"They'll keep you out, Heero," Duo protested in almost a sing-song voice. "You won't make it within twenty feet!"
"I didn't say it would be easy to arrange. It might take a few days, but I'll try to manage it before the wedding."
Heero was off the wall and around the corner before Duo, blinking his big eyes in confusion, could comment further. As Heero started to stride away, he felt both of Relena's hands clasp his and turned around.
He was surprised when he looked into Relena's face, straight as a board except for the love in her eyes, and saw absolute agreement in her expression. For a moment his skin prickled. It was like she was turning into him. Or was he turning into her? Of course, he liked her well enough not to mind so much. Perhaps that ought to be a requirement for love. Leaning over, he kissed her softly on the side of the mouth and caught her eyes as she pulled away. "Not mad?" he whispered.
"No," she said. "Proud. But don't hurt each other." Smiling, she delicately smoothed the lapels of his coat with the flat palm of her hands, lowering her eyes. "I've missed you and I'm going to want you in full health later."
Heero couldn't help smiling back a little. "Hmm. Maybe Duo's right. He won't see me now."
"Then wait a day or two," Relena suggested.
Ducking, he kissed his wife on the mouth. She smiled into his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her off her feet. When she started to make little exasperated noises, Heero set Relena carefully down on her toes. "Hopefully," he said into her ear. "Audrey will be able to help Damion like you've helped me." He played with her hair idly, tangling it in his fingers. "Why don't we book a room in a hotel in the city until after Damion's wedding?" he said. "We didn't get a honeymoon and I think we need the privacy."
She smiled at him. "And then home," she said. "Finally. I love you, Heero."
*****
They had only been back a day in Taravren and night had fallen when Audrey learned that a decision was to be made.
Sitting in a hard-backed chair in a lounge full of soft couches, open windows and a cold fireplace, Audrey had to face facts. Damion had claimed full power in Taravren with a only a ceremony left to formalize it. That ceremony was supposed to take place at his wedding, but it didn't have to. Defying the Council Lords as he had been, if Damion told them flatly that he wasn't ready to marry, or if he simply did not want to marry Audrey, they would be forced to allow him the right to that decision. It was, Audrey understood now, a decision Damion always could have made. The truth was that for the most part Damion and the Council Lords saw eye to eye. The Council Lord's rulings were suggestions, advice, and always had been, but the executive decision was the Regent's alone. He usually agreed with them, bided by them, because they knew what they were doing, but now he was taking power.
And he did not have to marry her if he did not want to.
The wedding date was set, but it could very easily be changed to a crowning ceremony alone. Of course Damion still had to marry eventually, to provide an heir to take his place, and the sooner the better as he had no brothers, but if Damion did not want to marry Audrey, he did not have to.
The Council Lords were divided. Most thought she had shown great potential to be a Queen to equal Damion's mother or better, but others thought her entanglements with Damion's experience too great. She didn't know how they had found out about her association with Gardiner. Perhaps Gardiner had told him, but she knew the truth of her past was known to them, though they had agreed to keep the knowledge secret. Still, many thought a Queen should not have a secret like that. And too, the bride of a Taravren prince was supposed to be a pure-blood virgin from a respected family. God knows, Clara had already tainted her blood connections, but her own transgression was worse in that it was her own fault, or appeared to be, and a dishonor to her husband. She knew Damion was being urged to send her home, quietly, so as not to make a scene, but the decision lay with him. And she didn't know what decision he would make. She felt, or thought, or hoped, that he still loved her, but that might not matter in the end. His anger and his sense of always doing the right thing were in conflict, but he might decide that the right thing to do was send her home and forget about her. She really couldn't blame him if he did. The way he looked at her now was so confusing, like he wanted to crush her in equal amounts of love and hatred.
But she wanted him. She wanted him to again be the man who had made her smile when she had been sad and lonely for so long. He needed an heir and she wanted to give him a child, or maybe several. As there were few children where she had grown up, she had never thought of herself in a maternal fashion, but the thought of Damion's children was a pleasant, slightly bewildering thought. Would they have dark hair and light eyes like him? Would they be cool and quiet like her, or have shining eyes and loud laughs? She had never thought the idea of holding a small child could be lovely, but she found herself contemplating it, and contemplating a life with Damion as well, one that included his bed as well as the responsibilities of behind his wife. If he still wanted her. She didn't know if she was ready—the idea of sex still frightened her immensely on some basic level—but she wanted to be. If nothing else, she wanted to help him recover from this last, terrible week.
Currently, he was talking with the Council Lords about the wedding. They wanted to know now, and so Damion had closeted himself with the Council Lords for almost two hours to the minute, discussing Audrey, discussing their future, and it could go either way.
She waited for his summons, fidgeting nervously with her dress, a pale silver blue, wishing she had told him a thousand things she had never said, wishing they had made love already, wishing even that she carried his child, anything that might make the outcome of these agonizing hours more favorable. The dreadful truth was that he had been unable to forgive her as much as he cared about her, and it weighted down her hopes. If it had been anyone else except Gardiner, it would have been an easy thing for him to do, but the thought of her in the arms of the man who had scarred him so deeply hurt too great. No matter how much love lay between them, Damion would be her second, not her first, and she couldn't seem to make him understand that to her, the first didn't count at all. To him, it mattered, perhaps because he simply wanted to have that place, and perhaps because he thought he deserved it on a technical level. She hoped something like that wouldn't cause him to dismiss her. She hoped it.
A knock came at the door and a girl dressed in palace livery entered. "Lady Audrey Veron?"
"Hello, Mary," Audrey said, rising from her chair.
"Lady Audrey, Prince Damion is waiting for you if you would follow me."
She swallowed and looked away, feeling suddenly shaky. But she forced herself to regain composure and look the girl in the eye.
Mary lowered her eyes as Audrey nodded assent. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her skirts up in her hand and followed Mary out of the room and down the darkened hallways. Her chest heaved, though she tried to keep the sound of her breaths subdued. As a result, the bodice of her dress, tight and low-cut, was possibly more distracting than it might otherwise have been. It was actually one of the dresses Damion had had made for her and Terese had designed. It was beautiful, but she knew that dresses of any sort would not move Damion's mind. She couldn't believe how ridiculous her thoughts were. Was this love? This desperate tangle of doubt and flutter was not like her. This desire to please someone and the desire to be swept away by someone was not like her. She was terrified, in so many ways, terrified.
If he turns me away I will not be able to help crying, she thought with horror, and another voice rebelled. I do not cry! But she knew she would. I will simply go home, she thought bitterly, and reinstate myself in my old lifestyle. Her heart fluttered. She did not want to go home and be alone and sad again. She wanted Damion's arms around her.
"Here, Lady," Mary said, gesturing to a oak panel door. It was the door to a larger study, the one Damion liked the read in when he could snatch time by himself. There was a bookshelf and a desk like a small library, containing all his favorite books, and also a couch and a coffee table and a window with burgundy draperies. Audrey tried to envision Damion standing in that room, waiting for her, tried to imagine the room and the furniture and his expression. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.
He looked up when she entered, shutting the door behind her. She should say something about having been summoned, but she couldn't say anything. It was difficult to make those formalities work with him anymore and she was caught up in the sight of him. It was strange and lovely to see him dressed in clothes that were new and lovelier to see his face cleaned and his hair combed and his eyes bright and alert. The bruises were still there, but they were beginning to fade a little. He almost looked like he always had. Except that he wasn't smiling. Instead, he was looking at her with something like sorrow. Her heart clenched.
"Hi," he said without energy, the word escaping his mouth like smoke. His eyes sparkled as they slid off of her and he turned his head toward the couch. "Do you want to sit with me?"
"No," she said. "I'd rather stand." There was a moment of silence. "What did you decide?"
"I promised to marry you," he began slowly, "and you deserve to have that promised honored." He lowered his head, his eyes sweeping the ground in front of his shoes.
But…She could scarcely breathe, yet she watched him with a relative feeling of calm.
Abruptly he raised his head, as if shaking off some unpleasant thought. "Please," he said, gesturing to the sofa. Trying to stifle the butterflies in her stomach, she came willingly forward, guided by his hand, but stopped at the back of the couch, her hand seeking something solid in the texture of the leather.
"Damion," she said, turning around, hoping to say something that would… she didn't know what. He was following so close behind her that they touched, arms and legs brushing. She flushed. Hastily, he stepped back and she leaned against the back of the couch, unable to look him in the eye.
He swallowed. "Is it a good reason?" he asked her. "Marrying someone because you promised to?"
She wasn't sure what he meant by that. Was he saying he was marrying her and that was why, or merely asking a question, perhaps leading to the reason for his denial of that promise? "I wish it were more," she said slowly. "I know promises sometimes dissolve when situations change, but that's not what you mean, is it?" She paused. "I like being in love with you, and if not for that promise, maybe it would not feel as safe."
He nodded slowly. "Safe."
"I was afraid to love, but you made it easy. It's not really the promise," she said, "but the character of a man who makes promises intending to keep them. That's what I never knew growing up. My father made promises he broke, over and over. But you are an honest man with a good heart and I believed you when you promised to take care of me even if I could not love you. That felt real to me, more real than any declaration of love or amorous feeling because I knew that without those things, you would still be a man I respected, and so I think I will always love you."
He closed his eyes, looking like she had given him a tonic or poured cool water over his head. "Do you still think I'm a good man?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, and felt her eyes becoming hot with unshed tears. "I know you are hurting, but I believe in you. If anything, I think your soul has been tempered by this trial. When I first came here I believed that you were a little immature and could not fully understand me, but so I thought all men. That's gone now. You have aged ten years in a few days, but I think you will youthen again with a little joy. I know it is impossible to get over Manny. I don't want you to. You will always love him, but you have to try to let him go, even if it takes a lot of time. I don't want you to be burned in this fire. I'd rather you were strengthened by it. I will help you in any way I can. You are a good man, and I do love you." She paused. "Do you love me?"
"You know I do."
She lowered her eyes, waiting to hear what decision he had made, for all they had said up to this point was known to some degree by both parties already.
"I want you to be my wife," Damion said. "I love you and I don't think there is another woman out there who can understand me after this. Maybe there is, but I don't want to look for another. It's just…"
She lifted her head, feeling hopeful, but not sure. "It's not what happened with Gardiner that has made me afraid of loving you," she said. "I admit I am afraid of sex, a little, but I want that too, I do. It might be hard the first time but I…" she bit her lip, caught off guard by the way he lifted his head, staring at her with those eyes of his. She rushed on haphazardly. "My real fears are of love lasting, Damion, of being part of something that is a misery to everyone involved. My family is a misery. I hate my father. I resent my mother. But somehow I find myself wanting your children and wanting you and wishing I could erase all the things that I am afraid of. You made that happen. I fell in love with you because you made me feel like something other than an object of affection."
"You are," he said, sounding surprised, even stunned. "I love much more than I can clearly explain and it goes beneath the feelings I have for you right now. You will make a beautiful and powerful Queen. It's just…"
"Will I?" she asked, and bit her lips to stop the tears.
"And a good mother," he added. "If you want to be."
"Yes," she said, as if answering a question, and it felt so different from the last time she had accepted his proposal of marriage, less grand and more real.
He smiled at her, a sad smile. She recognized it. She smiled just like that sometimes. "I've changed," he said. "You were right about that." She knew. He was still cold, still lacking the luster and life and kindness that she had loved most about him. His expression was dark, almost frightening, a seeming contrast to the word he had just said to her, like his head knew he loved her, but all the black emotions made it difficult to perceive. "Sometimes…" He stopped. "I know I love you," he said, "but I'm not fit to right now."
"If you could just let go," she whispered.
"I can't," he said. "It hurts too much. Every minute something reminds me of Manny and the way he died. I woke up and realized I don't know how to make coffee. I've never picked out my own clothes before, Audrey. I couldn't find things I'm used to using every day. I'm angry. I want to find Gardiner and kill him. I know it's wrong, but I want to see him bleed."
"I wish you wouldn't say that."
"I know. I'm sorry. It's the way I feel."
"You have to let it go," she whispered. "You have to stop hating him."
"I know," he said, but he didn't sound like it mattered much. "You're right. I can't love you properly. Whenever I think of touching you I think of him touching you and it makes me…" He hedged, his eyes darkening.
Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. Violent. It made him violent, violent with her. She couldn't speak.
"When it comes to it," he assured her slowly, "I'll be really gentle, I promise. I don't know what you expect or what to expect myself even, but I can hope to do that much."
"You need to stop hating him," she said a little breathily.
"I wish I could."
"The Council Lords," she said. "They are okay with your decision?"
"Yes," he said. "They like you. Something you said when I was…taken must have convinced them of your caliber. They worried that I would be dishonored, but my honor is my own affair in this matter. The choice was mine and I want to marry you."
She couldn't help smiling, just a little. "I'm so glad." She wished he would kiss her, but he didn't move an inch in her direction. She had been craving a kiss since he had left for the war it was hard to accept this distance. But with his omission she knew why he was refraining from touching her. He had to let go of Gardiner before the wedding. He had to.
"What about Heero?" she asked to change the subject. "What you said to him…"
"I know," he said darkly. "But it doesn't matter, Audrey. It's better this way. We won't get in each other's way anymore."
"Damion, you should apologize. Talk to him…"
"No," he said. "I don't want to. It was wrong to say but it was true."
"You're taking it out on him. It's unfair. It's Gardiner you hate, not Heero."
"Please," he begged her imploringly. "I almost feel like I used to when I'm with you. When I'm not with you it's hard not to shout at everyone. Can we drop Gardiner and Heero both?"
She wished they really could drop it, but that's not what he meant. He wanted her to just let it fester. "All right," she said, but she couldn't help feeling sad when she should feel overjoyed. She was going to marry Prince Damion, whom she loved, but if he couldn't rid himself of his anger and grieve, she was afraid she might be marrying a man who would break down when his fury ran out.
Thank you for reading! I was thrilled by the return of my reviewers and absolutely ecstatic by those of you who reviewed who never have before. Even if you were waiting for the end to review, it means a lot to me to get them early simply so I know how that chapter fared, knowing what your reaction is on a chapter-by-chapter basis. But thank you thank you thank you ALL for any feedback you have given me or intend to. I really, really do appreciate it. FYI: this story ends at 31 chapters. J