Amare Dividere
Title: Thoughts of the Solitary Minds 22/30
Series: Vision of Escaflowne
Rating: PG-13 for some violence.
A/N: As the home stretch draws near, I'm working really hard to get all the details into the story that are needed before we move on to book 3. At the end of one of the chapters, there will be a poll on decisions that will shape our final ending. Keep an eye out. Enjoy.
Kneeling in the chapel, Arik folds her hands in front of her, the darkness around her making up for her lack of black. She thought, at one point, that she had sensed Skan searching for her since leaving Ispano… but she cannot be sure without more help. Not of his safety, or of Tristan's. And so she mourns, the only way she knows how.
"Please," Arik says softly, looking up at the winged figure of the Fanelian dragon god illuminated in the candlelit darkness of the chapel, "guide me."
The stern features of the cold stone face look down on her in the flickering likght where she kneels, but she feels that the eyes looking at her are kind. She closes her eyes and bows her head, letting herself drift away from the pleasantries of her recent time spent in the castle with the hospitality of the king and queen.
It takes a long moment to let go of the clenching feeling in her heart that she feels for Tristan, but finally she feels it fading from her.
"Dragons live in the mountains," Arik hears the words of her father, though she knows he cannot be anywhere near. She remembers him, fondly, from the few years she was given with him as a child. Haruth had always been a caring father.
Memories of her time with her father flood through her, and she feels as though she opens her eyes to see them played back before her. It was he who had taught her to fly when she first spread her wings. It was he who had trained her first with her sword, putting the handle of his own childhood sword in tiny hands and showing her how to be courageous in the face of those larger and stronger than her. He had helped her to use her size to her advantage, something her mother had never figured out so completely as her daughter.
And it was he who had comforted her when her mother had assigned her to Ispano, a world away from the only one she had ever known. Even Wren… who was always kind to her and whom she had chosen to…
Silently, looking at the stone carved face, Arik wonders if Fariah and Wren's relationship is like hers with her own father.
She hopes so, and is glad that her relationship with her daughter is nothing like hers with her own mother. Or her brother. Thankfully, for Fariah, there are no siblings to deal with. The age difference between them would be too great. In the back of her mind, in the romantic corner of it that had fallen in love with Tristan, she had always wanted Fariah to have siblings closer her own age, if there were ever to be any. A rare maternal instinct, perhaps. And so she had treated the other Kathis children as though they were also her own, and her own peers had wordlessly done the same, following her example.
Selassie, Fariah, Iret, Nom… all of the children had grown up feeling close to one another. All except her own younger brother. All except Sotet, who was kept in the shadows more than he need be. Arik shakes her head slightly, clearing her thoughts in the process.
Slowly, Arik rises, bowing deeply to the stone figure, and turns to leave the chapel. It is midday. The snow outside casts bright light through the windows of the hallway as she makes her way towards the room that Van has made available to her.
Well… the room that Hitomi had made available to her. Van was in no state to make anything ready for anyone except his wife, upon his return. She has seen little of the Fanelian monarchs since her return with the king in tow, and little of the Egzardian king and queen who are also in residence. Most of her interaction has been in guarding the Egzardian princesses from nothing much in particular. Fanelia Castle is safer than anyone is willing to admit. All of the successful attacks on it have happened during ceremonies. A fact that Arik is more than certain that Van is well aware of. And Merle, too.
Merle's disapproval goes farther than the distracted Fanelian Queen's favor, obviously. The catwoman's displeasure extended only so far, though, and in her few weeks in Fanelia, Arik has grown to know the younger Kathis better than in most of their lives. Sparring in a back corner of the courtyards… discussing the weak points and strong points of the Castle's defense… what time Arik has not spent with the princesses, she has spent with the Kathis.
Perhaps they are not friends… perhaps they will never be. But at least now there is understanding, where previously there were threats and disappointment at a traitor.
Glancing through the windows across the castle courtyard at the central wing of the castle, Arik pauses. 'There is nothing for me to do here. Fanelia is well guarded. If not only by Merle, by the Egzardian military. Van and Hitomi are secure. There must be elsewhere for me to be of use in troubled times like these…' She pauses, looking down at the Queen, wrapped in a tight fur cloak and secured on the arm of the King, as they take the courtyard air with the Egzardian monarchs.
'I will take the time to say goodbye to Hitomi. She deserves my thanks for her help. And for being strong in Van's absence.' Nodding to herself, the silent woman thinks of finding her own breakfast.
And her stomach protests.
"That's very… odd…" Arik murmurs to herself, heading into her room. What few things she has of her own are there, and the clothing lent her by Hitomi, all of it the queen had said was a gift.
In the hall, Merle stops her, and Arik bows her head to the cat woman respectfully. "I'm going to ride out to the Egzardian military encampments to check on the soldiers," Merle says, her chin set proudly, salmon colored hair falling down her shoulders freely. Her hands are crossed behind her back, and in the winter light that comes in the small, high windows in the hallway, Arik cannot make out what she is hiding behind her back. She is dressed as though ready to defend someone, or to go out to train.
"I wish you a safe ride," Arik offers, nodding and glancing the cat woman over. She cannot recall how much training Merle was given at the Consortium, though the doctrines of the group seem strong in her, and she spars as fiercely as anyone Arik has come across. Rough and untutored, perhaps… She was already away in Ispano when Merle had been brought out of her seclusion. Jujin said that she was trained in Fanelia, by someone… but he had never said whom. "It's a wise thing to do, especially since the King and Queen are otherwise engaged."
"King Benanoir will accompany me, as well as Lord Van," Merle replies in an arch voice. "I would appreciate it if you would come as well."
Hesitating, Arik glances down at her attire. Thankfully, Hitomi had not offered her dresses and formal wear that would suit a palace. It was either practicality or her own distaste for such things. "I need my-"
Merle's hands come from behind her back and she tosses Arik's sword at her. "I brought that," she says as she turns, heading towards the nearest stairs, "the stable's this way."
Blinking, Arik narrows her eyes after the cat woman. "What makes you think I'm coming?"
Merle pauses at the bend in the hallway. "Hitomi spent most of her time in the chapel when Van was absent. She didn't find any answers there, and I doubt you did either. Maybe the rest of Fanelia will tell you what the stone walls didn't."
Arik's anger at having her room invaded, and this trip foisted upon her melts away at hearing those words. In the back of her mind, as she buckles the swordbelt around her waist, she is well aware that the trip will do little to take her mind off of Tristan and Ispano, but, she thinks, it is at least better than staying inside and brooding. Without responding verbally, she follows Merle down the stairs towards where the horses are waiting, and helps to saddle one for herself as the two monarchs descend to join them.
"Nileyah seems to be doing better, don't you think?" Emman asks her son as the crown prince plays with the heir in her chambers. Her health has started to deteriorate. Age catching up with her. Stress over the war and losing a daughter-in-law.
The room has the thick curtains pulled back to let in the winter sunlight, and the high ceilinged room is brightened by it immensely, bringing cheer into a room that seems to hover with the stillness of death otherwise. "What was wrong with her?" Jasper asks, his attention focused on his son's tottering body as he stumbles across the large, thick rug that adorns the stone floor of the Queen's chambers.
"I am not entirely sure," Emman says, reclining in her bed. She looks up at the canopy above her and knows that soon she will give the order to her servants to festoon the room in white. It is not that she feels ill… simply that she feels her energy draining away from her.
"But you knew something was wrong with her and you didn't tell me." Jasper's green eyes stray from his child to his mother, sharp and bright and accusing. "Why didn't you tell me?"
The aged queen turns weary eyes on her son. "If you are trying to find someone to blame for what happened to Nileyah, try looking in a mirror before attacking others," Emman says in an uncharacteristically harsh voice. She coughs and tries to regain her breath as she apologizes. "I am dying and do not want your thoughts of me at the end to be as ill as they seem to be turning, so you must forgive me my cold words."
"You aren't dying," the crown prince says defiantly. Jasper picks up his son and the infant gurgles unhappily, disturbed by the tension in the air.
"Let us state things truly as they are," Emman says, "and this cold is not a cold, son. I will have the servants hang white in the room once you have taken Rishe from here."
Jasper glares at his mother, "For no reason."
"You cannot expect things to go on as they are now forever. You cannot expect to always be a charming prince, Jasper." The queen gathers her strength about her. "The world turns, people age, and things change. Your wife is dead. The only reason she lived as long as she did was Nileyah."
"I don't understand what you're talking about," Jasper says.
In his arms, Rishe starts to cry. His father bounces him absently in an attempt to quiet him as his mother continues talking to him.
"Nileyah kept Kira alive, Jasper," Emman says, leaning back against her pillow. "Through what magic or mystery I do not know, but your wife lived as long as she did only because Nileyah is as strong as she is."
The noise of the door opening for servants bringing in more wood for the fire and the midday meal for the queen interrupts the discussion, and Jasper waits to make his response until he hears the door shut behind their exit. He is surprised to find that his son's mood improves, and the crying wanes away.
"…why would she do that?" Jasper asks in a quiet voice, regarding his son because he cannot regard his wife's smiling face. He is again surprised to find his months' old son's arms lifted.
"Because you love her," Nil says, stepping over to take the heir in her arms, lifting the child whose hands are lifted for her. "And she is important to you."
Turning on his guardian, Jasper is not as startled as he could be, considering he knows how long he has known her, and her silent ways of entering a room. The prince narrows his eyes. "If that's true then you almost got yourself killed because of her and me! That's not what I-"
"Hush," Nileyah says, jostling the young heir and hoisting him high in the air above her head. "You're upsetting your son, Jasper."
Glancing at his mother, Jasper rolls his eyes. "Why is it that you can always make him smile?" he asks in an annoyed voice.
"Because I feel like his mother to him," Nileyah responds, lowering the heir and then tossing him into the air.
Jasper lifts a hand. "Be careful-" he starts as she catches him.
"I would never hurt him," Nileyah says, holding the happily gurgling baby against her chest. "He is as dear to me as he could be if he were my own. And I promised Kira that I would protect him as I do you."
"I am tired," Emman says, rousing from where her eyes are drooping. "Please continue this conversation elsewhere."
Jasper respectfully bows to his mother, and from the corner of his eye he sees Nileyah do the same. Straightening, he steps over to put a hand on the small of Nileyah's back to guide her towards the door, leaving the queen to rest. Her words echo in the back of his mind… if she was telling the truth about Nileyah and Kira… could she really be dying?
Nileyah waits to speak until the two of them are in the hallway, and then she does so in a soft, low voice that does not disturb the heir she carries.
"I am not trying to take Kira's place. She was your wife, and his mother. I will be neither, ever. I simply am doing what she asked me to do in her stead," Nil says, carrying the heir against her chest and stepping away from Jasper's gentle hand. "I consider it best to honor the final wishes of those I respect."
Following, Jasper glances at Nileyah, and the way she is holding his son, who is dozing trustingly against her chest. "Then my son is most fortunate… he will have two mothers, even if you do not accept the title." He smiles at her. "You are good with children." He turns his green eyes out the windows of the hallway towards the empty courtyard below.
"We Kathis are raised raising each other," Nileyah says cryptically in a soft, lulling voice, rocking Rishe gently, "We should put him down. And then you and I will practice."
Jasper blinks. "Practice?"
Still speaking in the cooing voice, Nileyah nods, patting the young heir's back, and says, "There is much to be ready for. Son or no, the kingdom may come under attack."
Benanoir and Van ride ahead of Merle and Arik, but the two women are more alert and present as they ride down towards the encampment than the two monarchs. "We've got quite an escort today," Benanoir says. "Do lovely women always carry swords in Fanelia? I have yet to see the queen with one."
Van surpresses a chuckle for a moment and then lets it out. "I can't really imagine Hitomi carrying a sword," he says, glancing back at Merle with amused eyes. "Can you?"
Merle shakes her head.
"I bet if she were put in a dangerous situation she'd use one, whether you can imagine it or not, though," Arik says, her eyes not watching the two monarchs, but instead the trees that they ride through as they head down the hill outside of the palace city walls towards the encampment.
The winter in the mountains is cold, and the three are all wrapped well under furs and in heavy cloaks as their horses make headway through the snow. Merle sneezes once, and then covers her nose in an embarrassed gesture that neither of the monarchs seem to take notice of.
Van straightens in his saddle, a tall outline topped with messy black hair, and Arik glances at him for a moment. He speaks in sober words, "I intend for it never to come to that."
"Intentions are not always seen through to the end," Benanoir says, reigning his horse in to slow down. "There's ice just up here. Lady Merle and I found that out the hard way during one of our visits to the encampment… we both took quite a tumble from our horses. Inah was furious with me for the bruises I came back with."
"She seems quite a model of decorum whenever I speak with her," Van says in a lame sounding voice.
"I'm certain that your majesty has seen more of her character than he realizes. The girls told me how she tried to match them with you during your stay in Zardi. I'm only sorry that the letter I sent her from the ceremonies did not reach her before you did."
"Letter?" Van asks, curious. He guides his horse thoughtlessly forward, crossing the iced over river without second thought, having done it often when he was younger.
"You were the most eligible bachelor at the festivities," Benanoir says, "but the moment I saw the way you looked at the Lady Hitomi I knew there was nothing eligible about you. Not if you were as honorable as I recalled you to be from previous meetings."
"You have practice at judging that sort of thing?" Arik asks, patting the neck of her horse as they reach more traveled snow nearer the encampment.
"I have four eligible daughters, my lady," Benanoir says, "and my wife is quite a good coach at such things. Inah can spot an unmarried man at half a mile," he laughs. "I have to have a conversation with him first."
"This time you didn't," Merle says, pale purple eyes sparkling in the light bouncing off the snow as she ducks to avoid a branch in her path.
"This was, I think, a special circumstance," Benanoir says, glancing at Van to gauge his reaction as he speaks, "Especially given the Queen's current condition."
Red eyes narrow, and Van's hand is halfway to his sword before Merle snaps out, "Lord Van!" and moves her horse forward between the two monarchs.
"I do not think that I meant what I said how you think I did," Benanoir says quickly as Arik moves between the two men as well, her horse shouldering the Egzardian king's to the side of the path. "Inah has been most discreet and has not mentioned it to the girls, and to me only in the strictest of confidences so that I might find a way to offer our support-"
"I don't need support," Van growls. "My wife is carrying my child."
Benanoir stops his horse and lifts his hands in the air. "Be that as it may, if that is how you react to someone knowing something that is not entirely a secret to a woman who has been pregnant before… it will seem otherwise."
Arik glances at Merle, but the cat woman is staring at Van in confusion. She, too, had noticed the queen's pregnant state, but had no reason to comment on it, and so she had refrained from mentioning it at all.
Van lets out a long sigh and pulls his hand from his sword.
"My Lord's temper has always been quick," Merle says.
"I'm certain it was a most precarious discussion to have with your advisors," Benanoir says. "One that I had to have once upon a time when I was much younger. For what it is worth, having being given a suite in the same wing of the palace as the Queen, Inah and I are prepared to vouch for her chasteness if the need arises."
The Fanelian king shrugs, the black fur of his winter cloak bunching around his shoulders. "I'm sure the child will be proof enough in itself, when the time comes," Van says.
Benanoir nods and straightens in his saddle as well as they head into the encampment to the salutes of the guards on duty. "Captain Leir will be with us shortly. What is it that most interests your majesty today?"
"I am worried about what attack Norte may make next," Van says, "and seeing what army you have will reassure me more than the reports I have read of them."
The foreign king nods, his brown hair made brighter by the morning sunlight. "They will have just begun their morning exercises, you will likely be pleased to witness that?"
"Better informed, at the very least," Van says, "and I look to protect my country's future, so yes, I will be pleased."
Riding behind them as the two horses turn into the encampment and make their way towards the flattened practice field, Arik nods to Merle respectfully at hearing Van speak in such a way. The talks they had about the security of the country, Merle posing the hypothetical suggestion that there would be no escaping more ceremonies in the near future, had obviously been relayed to the necessary party. Merle nods back, and the two women follow the monarchs as they make their inspection tour.
"And the Lady Hitomi?" Arik asks quietly. "Back at the castle alone?"
"My lady is never alone," Merle replies, "and she is having a fitting begun this morning. It will take most of the day."
Van's voice sounds slightly troubled as he ducks under the last set of branches before the encampment, "She would know if there was trouble before we would."
When Eries finally opens her eyes, she feels stiff. Her entire body feels heavy and her skin feels sticky… as though she has not bathed in quite a while. She starts to turn her head to look around the dark room but Celena's voice cautions her otherwise. "You should not," Celena says softly.
Eries opens her mouth to speak, only to receive the same words.
"You should not, princess. You were wounded, princess… the axe of the guard at the door to the council chambers took his orders a little too seriously for reason." Celena brushes the hair from Eries's forehead and reaches over to moisten the cloth that has graced her pale skin all evening before replacing it. "The surgeon sewed the wound on your neck shut… there should be no scarring, if you are lucky, and careful."
The princess lifts a hand and touches Celena's, cautiously, her eyes intent and questioning. She moistens her lips carefully.
"Allen…?" the younger Schezar sibling asks, becoming aware of the princess's two requests at the same instant.
There is the bare nod, and it causes a grimace to spring to Eries's lips.
Rising from her seat, Celena fills a glass with cool water from the bedside table, and returns to lift it carefully to the princess's dry lips. "Allen carried you here himself, and has taken turns with me watching for you to wake up. I do not know where he goes when he is not here."
Slowly, Eries drinks the water, and lets her body relax into the bed. "I cut you out of your bodice myself… there was no sense in you being uncomfortable in your sleep. Do not worry. Once you were brought into this room only women handled you."
Celena replaces the glass on the floor closer to the bed. She rises and moves about the room in her morning ritual, opening the heavy curtains to leave only the gauzy window coverings between the room and the sunlight. "You are likely feeling weak from so much inactivity in the past week. You will be fine, the doctors say. I'm certain that when they dress your wound next you will be able to move again. On your own."
It is the most words that Eries has heard the younger Schezar sibling say quite so frankly and so kindly. She is impressed, and a little overwhelmed. Her head is still spinning and the room, now bright, makes her close her eyes against the glare. Celena returns to the bedside and checks the cloth on her forehead.
Eries looks up at the young woman and frowns. She looks tired…
The door opens without a knock, and Eries starts to turn her head but at a warning noise from Celena she freezes, half a sigh on her lips as she sinks back into the pillow behind her head.
"How is she?" Allen asks, striding through the door. His uniform is less than pristine, looking as though he has been wearing it for several days, and he appears to be unshaven.
"Awake," Celena replies with a smile as she rises, again, from her chair. "And asking about you," she adds with a faint flicker of a smile on her lips.
"She should not be talking," Allen scolds angrily, glaring at his sister in the bright morning light.. "She very nearly…"
"She is awake brother," Celena cautions, giving him a stern glance as she steps aside to reveal the princess on the bed to him. "I will be taking a nap in the next room if you need me." She crosses towards the door to the small drawing room, stopping to kiss Allen on the cheek before she slips out.
The door closes behind Celena, and Allen finds he still cannot take his eyes from the lying form of the princess on the bed. There is a long silence that follows the noise of the door closing. Eries waits, patiently, until she is not sure if Allen followed Celena out, and then starts to shift.
"Don't," Allen says, lifting a hand that he knows she cannot see.
Awkwardly, he crosses to the bed and takes the seat Celena just occupied. He gazes at the bandage on Eries's neck with the same eyes that his younger self had looked on his missing sister's room, and his mother's death bed.
Blue eyes watching Allen carefully, Eries slowly reaches over and puts a hand gently on his knee. She had not seen his face then, not truly known him as a child, but it is not hard to imagine what he is thinking, knowing the events of his life as she does.
She remembers her own feelings after finding out her mother had passed away after giving birth to her younger sister. Her last conversation with Therese Aston. And then, later, with her father. Neither were very fond memories for the princess.
Allen blinks, coming out of his stupor, and looks down at Eries. "I should not be in here with you alone, princess… now that you are awake it is not proper. There has always been at least a dozing lady in waiting in the corner-" he turns to look for one now, but there is no one else in the room with them.
She tightens her hand on his knee, drawing his attention back to her. His expression is surprised. Open. With everyone else Allen seems able to hide everything, but around Eries his emotions… his thoughts are always written all over his face. He turns into a bashful young man, in some respects, and much less the suave playboy he is known as.
"Princess?" he asks, gazing at her face in uncertainty. She, in turn, lay serenely on the bed before him. A vision. The one woman he has never been able to truly figure out.
Shaking her head just slightly to reassure him, Eries lifts her hand, propping it up by the elbow, fingers extended. Allen looks at it for a long moment. Eries's eyes slowly begin to falter in their sure calm, and she lowers her hand, turning her eyes away from him. Belatedly, Allen reaches out and takes her hand in his. "We… were supposed to discuss this."
A slow smile grows on Eries's pale lips, made paler by loss of blood and lack of sunlight, and her free hand strays up to the bandages, a twinkle in her blue eyes as she gazes at him, blond hair soft on the pillow around her head. Her pale beauty seems to glow in the wan light coming in from outside.
Tightening his grip on her hand, Allen lifts it to his lips and kisses her knuckles. "Yes. There is that." He closes his eyes halfway and puts the back of her hand against his cheek. A hundred things run through his mind, a thousand words cross his tongue, but he does not speak. He sits in silence with her.
Eries closes her eyes, licking her lips again, and rests against the bed, still feeling weak from inactivity. "Your nephew is doing well," Allen says when he finally breaks the silence. "I see him in the afternoons. The King has me reporting to him daily of your situation, and it is usually the time when the crown prince is visiting his father after his afternoon nap."
The princess opens blue eyes and turns them on Allen, the mention of her nephew suddenly enough to awaken her from restfulness once more. Engagement… injury… she is still a princess.
She is still the acting monarch.
And the world is still at war.
"Princess?" Allen asks, unsure what he has said to distress him.
"The… council," Eries manages to croak in a voice that disturbs her. Her throat feels raw, and she can taste blood at the back of her mouth. "The… war."
"You should not try to speak yet," Allen says in a concerned voice. Eries levels a determined gaze on him, and Allen bows his head in respectful acquiescence. "I will tell you, princess, but it will be best for you to recover and take hand of them instead of receiving reports from me."
Eries nods slightly, squeezing his hand as a sign for him to continue.
"Word has come from Asturia," Van says, entering the fitting room upon his return from the encampment as Hitomi is fitted into the robes she will wear during the winter ceremony. His cheeks are still colored from the cold ride he has returned from. "Allen sends his best to us."
Hitomi regards herself in the mirror with appraising eyes. The cloth is thick and embroidered with the colors of the nation. Red and gold patterns line the shoulders and neckline of the robes that are a dark, conservative green. Lighter than the wedding robes, but still heavy on her heavy body. "It's a good thing I started running once I came to Gaea or I'd be worn out." She turns as instructed by the seamstress who is making the Queen's adjustments on the robes, and smiles at the sight of her husband with flushed cheeks from the chill outside. Privately, she thinks he looks very handsome with the slight blush to his otherwise tan skin. "What word from Asturia?"
"Allen was sent to retrieve Millerna from Norte… apparently the Kathis learned of her whereabouts." Van turns his eyes from the letter to his wife and smiles back. "You look well in that," he says, pulling off his riding gloves and tossing them on the floor next to one of the few uncomfortable chairs in the room.
"Kathis?" Hitomi asks, ignoring his compliment for the time being.
Van turns back to the letter for a moment before speaking. "The Kathis are… royal bodyguards, sworn to protect their countries above all else, and the nobles they are assigned to. Their family is the order they are trained in, and everything else is their dedication to their charge."
"It sound serious," Hitomi says, glancing at the mirrored reflection of her husband. "Do you… have one?"
Van glances at Hitomi as the seamstress instructs her to lift her arms, and turns to look out the thick window at the courtyard below them, "The letter arrived as I was returning from the Egzardian military encampment. The soldiers are doing well, you had it set up properly." When she does not respond, he turns to find her staring at him and quickly turns his eyes back down to the letter, reading on, "Apparently, Allen sends, he failed in retrieving Millerna from Norte. And this is odd… Eries was wounded by one of the castle guards."
"What?" Hitomi asks, her protests at his secrecy lost in that bit of knowledge. She lowers her arms and is pricked by a pin. "Ow!" The seamstress lifts a brow at her and she waves it off with a smile, attention focused on Van's reading, "How… why?"
"Allen doesn't say," Van says, offering the letter to her. "He does say that she is recovering though. Apparently she can't talk. So she's been writing things to be relayed to meetings."
The mention of the Princess reminds her that she is a Queen, and again Hitomi appraises herself in the mirror, and is surprised to find that the formal robes, which look much like a modified kimono, remind her, as she watches her reflection, of the robes she had seen Varie wear in her vision. Her attention is drawn from the letter… from the situation at hand. 'By Fanelian standards,' Hitomi thinks as the seamstress informs her that she can lower her arms now without risk of puncture, 'I look very much like a queen.'
A hand strays to her swelling stomach.
'And I am going to give birth to an heir…'
From his lounging position, Van watches Hitomi's expression in the mirror, and sees her hand lift to her stomach. He chooses to remain silent, to let her think her thoughts through. The idea of her pregnancy came as a shock to him, he simply forced the idea down his mental throat, knowing that there was no room for him to be uncertain about his wife, if he wanted to keep her.
'What sort of a life is this to bring a child into?' she asks her reflection, seeing a hazy one of Van watching her intently. She turns to ask him a question, but is interrupted.
There is a knock on the door and Merle steps in shortly after. "I hate to interrupt the two of you before dinner, but," she says, glancing at Hitomi in her robes and nodding in appreciation, "Arik would like to speak with you and Hitomi, Lord Van."
Van arches a brow.
"We will meet her in the drawing room momentarily," Hitomi says, glancing at Van for a long moment. He rises and offers her a hand, and she takes it before stepping down from the stool she is standing on. "And the two of you should stop making such a fuss about the robes, they'll just have to be readjusted for next year."
Merle nods and turns to leave, her tail swishing behind her as she passes through the doorway to inform Arik. "What is this about, do you know?" Hitomi asks Van once she is out of sight.
"Your guess is as good as mine." He offers her his arm, and when she takes it he leads her from the room. "I'll make all the 'fuss' I like about the robes. They suit you. Although they could be a little brighter to make your eyes stand out more…"