Freedom

It is often late at night when he comes home to retire. Then he rises with the dawn. But the wee hours in between is shared with me--in one room, one bed. One dream. It is in his presence at night that I find my only sanctuary...when I hear the door creaking softly to let him in, his footsteps weighed with exhaustion even as he tries to slip quietly into bed, and sometimes, the barest brush of his fingers upon my hair or my cheek, as he thinks me asleep. But it is only in that moment do I let my self slip into slumber. Only after knowing that we share this silent intimacy and I am not alone.

So I feel it if he is gone before he should be, before dawn comes to claim him. Tonight. My hand instinctively slide to feel the space beside me, and its warmth tells me that he hasn't been gone long. My eyes search the room and they immediately descend upon his form, standing by the balcony doors, clothed in moonlight. He is looking pensively outside the glass windows, and I know from the look on his face that tonight is different from the others. In my seclusion within the castle, I am hardly abreast with the concerns of war. But tonight he is gone from my side earlier that what I have been accustomed to, and it isn't difficult to hazard a guess where his thoughts now lay.

Even as I cross the room to close the distance between us, he does not look at me. Then, for certain, I know that something is wrong.

"You..." I try to speak, but I falter at first. "You are worried about something?"

He looks away from the window and turns to me with downcast eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"I-I hadn't meant to wake up, but..."

"I'm sorry."

I shake my head. "It's nothing."

"No," he says emphatically, surprising me as his eyes finally meets mine. "It's not that." Then, in a softer voice, he repeats, " I'm sorry ."

The tone is something I recognize, and now it is my turn to fight the urge to tear my eyes away. "I told you before you don't need to apologize for anything ever again. Not to me."

"You know I do."

"But you can't have regrets."

"I don't." He sighs tiredly and his gaze softens. "I don't have regrets for my sake. Yours is a different matter." His voice grows stronger with conviction. "I throw the final gamble tomorrow."

My heart beats wildly and painfully in my chest as I hear him say those words, knowing exactly what he means by them. I have felt this moment come with every fiber of my being, and yet I find myself vulnerable and unprepared for such an announcement. I close my eyes to draw strength from deep within. But his next words, whispered as they were, were just as staggering as the last.

"I want you to be free."

My eyes open of their own volition upon hearing that strange quality of his voice. "Free?"

"I have taken everything from you. Your father, your brother...your kingdom." He senses the protest in my eyes, and he attempts to strengthen his resolve once again. "I want you to be free."

"But not from you..."

Never from you.

Gods. I have never asked so much for myself. I have given what I can for people to be spared. I would have given all of my lives for Highland. But all I ask now...

He shakes his head, the pain in his eyes no doubt reflecting my own. "It's not right."

"Let me be the judge of that."

I reach for his hand, and I see that I startled him with my touch. He smiles sadly in return, his eyes wistful with unspoken promises.

"Somehow, I knew you'd say that."