The cold days seemed to only grow colder as time passed, even though winter season itself was not yet upon them. Santana walked grudgingly after Matthew, the king and queen as they rode easily ahead of her. The morning was crisp, but growing warmer from the sun in the sky and, for Santana, the exertion of following those before her.
Ahead, the king and queen were riding double in a leisurely fashion, Archibald choosing to once again use his own mount with Brittany in front of him, holding her close in a way an unknowing person would call chivalrous.
The action wasn't unusual as of late, after his last brutality to his wife the king had gone out of his way to be kind to her. Though Santana wasn't sure of the motive, as long as he wasn't hurting Brittany she accepted it.
The horses rode at a brisk pace that she had to fight to keep up with and in addition they were riding farther out than the small woman could ever remember going. It wasn't long until they outpaced her and Matthew had to call ahead to ask the king to wait.
Santana wished immediately he hadn't, the king looked as if he had been asked to wait for a deer tick, however, he halted his horse and cursed at her to hurry. Knowing she needed to keep Brittany silent on the matter, she gave the woman a secret smile before scurrying to catch up. Unfortunately, it wasn't long until she fell behind again, and once more she would have given what little was to her name to stop Matthew from calling out.
This time when he stopped the king rounded as if he intended to run her down, but his aid sensed his anger and the tension that was clearly in the queen.
"Sire, she is on foot, may I suggest she ride with me?" Matthew asked easily, and everyone paused.
Archibald seemed almost confused by the request, Brittany's face became a mask of pleasantness, which only occurred when she felt quite upset, and Santana just stood between them all nervously. Matthew's horse suddenly seemed mountainous, and looking up at it she recalled that the last time she had ridden one it had been with the queen. And suddenly she felt she knew what had Brittany upset.
"I suppose if it keeps her from falling behind," Archibald said hesitantly, as if unsure if it were the correct answer.
Santana had to assume Matthew had never offered such a thing to anyone else, it was a kind gesture, but one she took reluctantly nonetheless. With incredible ease he lifted her up onto the back of his stallion and she found that, unlike with Brittany, her trepidation did not lift once his arms went under hers for the reigns. She couldn't help but focus on the sway of the beast and the way she felt like she would topple off every time it lifted a hoof. Clearly feeling her anxiety, Matthew slowed its pace, putting them a bit further behind the king than he had previously been traveling, but not enough to cause issue. Grateful for the consideration, Santana took a deep breath and relaxed slightly, trying not to think of how badly it would hurt to fall from that height and break her leg.
Up ahead she could see Archibald pointing things out to Brittany who observed and listened, though Santana knew she was not at all interested in what he had to say.
Her observation was interrupted by Matthew's voice, "Have you seen Sunshine in the mornings?"
Santana frowned before answering, "I see sunshine most mornings that there aren't clouds."
A laugh rumbled from his chest, "No, Sunshine is the girl that is attending the king."
Her eyes widened in understanding, "Oh, I see… is that really what she is called?"
He shook his head, "She hasn't told me her given name, only what her captors call her, though I suspect the name may have been meant to be more ironic than anything."
"I haven't seen her around at all."
"She seems to make herself quite scarce when she is not needed, a valuable skill, admittedly, but a tad frustrating when I need to speak with her."
Nagging curiosity caused her to ask, "What is it you need to tell her?"
"As the man responsible for training her on how to care for the king? Many things."
She sighed and looked ahead, "Did you pick her for this duty?"
"I did," he said easily.
"Why?" she asked, a frown creasing her brow as she dropped her voice, "Why do that to one so young?"
He leaned closer to her, his voice as quiet as hers when he spoke, "As little as you think of our young king he is not a man who finds pleasure in children. She was chosen because she is young and my hope is that by the time that she is of age he will have a lingering disinterest in her. Moreover she is only a year or two from becoming a woman, so it is unlikely she will grow any taller, which will hopefully deter him further once she is a reasonable age."
Feeling a little better about the girl's plight, she asked, "And you're sure he will not tire of sharing his bed with no one?"
"The king has many freed women willing to share his bed, Tina was merely a favorite. He does not have a proclivity to force himself on those closest to him. Thankfully."
"I must admit surprise that you have thought things through so thoroughly."
"Did you believe I am not thoughtful?" he asked in amusement.
"I was merely unaware that you thought on slave placement so much."
"Not just servants, I may have informed the king that the likelihood of having a boy goes up a great deal the better he treats the mother."
Her eyebrow arched, "Does that not play against your notion of memento mori?"
"I don't know what you mean, there is no danger to saying that, it is after all a popular tale among the men at the docks… one that I believe was indeed started by their wives, but a believed tale nonetheless. And I told him as much, so there is no lie to be caught in," Santana glanced back at him suspiciously, "I may have overstated how much I believe the tale, but there is no way for anyone to know that."
"That is very kind of you," she said, feeling better knowing the reason for the king's kindness.
"I am not the heartless man you seem to think I am," he said; his tone was light, but Santana was aware that she had caused real offense when they had spoken in the library.
"I never thought you heartless."
"You did," he said with a chuckle.
"I did," she conceded, "but that is no longer true."
"We will stop here!" the king called, pulling them from their conversation.
Santana held on tightly as Matthew urged his steed forward to the edge of a large, rushing river that flowed to the cliff's edge. They were at one of the many branches of the river that the servants washed their clothes in, and the sight of the water visually vanishing in the ocean was somewhat nice, however present company ruined the effect a bit.
Matthew dismounted and grabbed the supplies tied to the back of his mount to spread a blanket for the royals to sit on. Archibald leapt off his horse before helping Brittany down with a smile, and escorted her to the preplanned spot.
Santana remained where she was, not at all excited about her odds of getting down without hurting herself. Matthew returned to help her and when they joined their masters she found Archibald smiling over at them.
"You two seem to get along quite well," he said jovially, "What do you say, Matthew? Would you bed her? Make a child to be a friend and servant to my son as you are to me."
The man obviously thought this was a novel idea, even though Santana's face hardened, Matthew looked flustered, and Brittany was clearly using her vast stores of restraint to keep from saying anything.
"Er," Matthew began, clearly trying to find the right words, "I don't think that would be wise, Santana is meant to care for Brittany during her pregnancy, something she cannot do while experiencing her own."
"I suppose," the king huffed, seeming to have finally sensed how uncomfortable the topic had made everyone around him. Then, turning to his wife, he asked, "How do you like it here? You love that ridiculous garden so much, I thought this would please you," he said in a way she was sure he thought kind.
Brittany looked to him with her stiff, false smile and nodded, "I do love being outside."
Archibald then gave Matthew a victorious look, as if she had leapt into his arms and kissed him while singing his praises for knowing the one thing to brighten her day. Santana was sickened by the whole display and had to look elsewhere as he placed an arm around his wife to pull her to his side.
Matthew turned away, ushering Santana with him as they returned to the horses to tie them to nearby trees where they waited, keeping their masters in sight.
"Why is Karofsky not with us?" Santana asked suddenly, more to ignore the way Archibald was lovingly rubbing Brittany's stomach, which showed the barest hint that she was with child.
"I would not think you one to want him along," Matthew chuckled.
"I don't, but he has followed the king everywhere else, it seems odd that he would stop when he is most vulnerable,"
"It isn't," he said, pausing as if considering his next words carefully, "Karofsky has another task while the king is away."
"Which is…" she prompted.
"Which is watching over Azimio."
The name made Santana pay much more attention, "Why?"
"He… as of late he has been rather adamant about finding Tina and Michael."
That took Santana aback, "Did he even know them?"
"No, not in any sense that mattered, however, I hear he has become convinced that it is a way to return to good standing with the king. Not that his standing has ever been particularly bad, but I assume that is how he had taken his reassignment to understeward."
Santana thought his words over, slowly coming to a realization, "So he has been looking for a way to gain favor?"
Matthew watched as the king lay down on the blanket and repositioned himself so Brittany could join him. She looked down at her husband with a detached stare before doing as he bid her.
"Yes," he replied, still watching the scene before him, "and in his quest he has beaten quite a few servants quite badly, to the point where they may no longer be of use to the crown. So Karofsky has been left to watch over the man's movements while the king is away."
Santana was about to comment on how decent of the king it was to do that when she quickly deduced that this had been Matthew's idea and Archibald had merely agreed to it.
"Why Karofsky?"
Matthew chuckled, "Because he is the only other man in the castle who can match him in size; Azimio is not only large but incredibly powerful, the rumors of him cutting men down are not at all exaggerated. I only wish to be sure that I do not return to find every servant of the castle beaten and tortured within a hair's width of their lives."
Everything was much clearer now - and far more worrying, "He was trying to do this even before they left," she said, remembering his lurking form in the hallway the night she had returned.
He sighed and shrugged, "To the best of my knowledge, those he dealt with are unwilling to say anything lest he feel the need to pay them another visit."
Azimio was lurking, looking for something to gain him favor with the king, and it didn't seem to much matter what that thing was. She wasn't sure why he was so adamant about following her however, she hoped it wasn't because he could sense what was between her and the queen. That would be a disaster in many ways.
"There is nothing that can be done about that, though. For a variety of reasons he cannot be simply sent away and he is currently the castle's best warrior, so despite his… unusual methods he is needed."
Santana looked out at the rushing river and tried not to frown at the way Archibald traced small patterns over Brittany's arms, "He really believes he is making her happy with this outing?"
"He doesn't know any better," Matthew sighed, once more rubbing his face tiredly.
"I will confess my surprise that you got him to even give the lackluster apology he attempted."
"I was as well." When Santana gave him a questioning look he continued, "It was proven by his attack on the queen that he has stopped heeding his parent's advice to never leave visible marks. And as of late, the king has not been considering my council as often as he should."
"Why does he feel the need to hurt her?" Santana asked, her anger making her focus on the man in the distance all the more. "Why her, out of all those who live at the castle?"
"I suppose because, like Tina, she is simply his favorite in that regard."
Her jaw tightened and she turned away when it seemed the heat of her stare caused the king to glance back in her direction.
Needing the topic to change again, she said, "If at all possible, do me the favor of not sending Azimio to fetch the queen and me again."
Matthew gave her a quizzical look, "I have never sent him to fetch you, he is an understeward, his job is to tell a servant to do it."
Santana returned the look, "He has come for us three times, always acting oddly."
"Maybe he simply has yet to truly grasp what his job is, I do not speak his native tongue, so from time to time we do not understand each other."
He said it in such a way that made Santana think he did not actually believe this was the case. Which was good, because she didn't either.
Once the farce of an outing had concluded, they returned to the castle in decent time. Santana grudgingly returned on Matthew's mount, wishing with every step that the ride would be over. They arrived to find Sunshine dutifully waiting to return the king's horse to the stables and Santana decided to try and take note of the girl more often; she remembered how awful and lonely it was to be new in the castle.
The king dismounted and reached up to help his queen down, when she was on the ground he kissed her on the cheek and Santana could see her stiffen under his touch.
"My lady, I have other matters to attend to, so if you will excuse me," he said, before turning to leave.
Santana decided not to dwell on how tragic it was that he thought a ride to the river to hear him talk was the queen's idea of being pampered.
"Sire?" Brittany asked, gaining his attention once more, "May I ask something of you?"
Matthew went completely still at the question as did Santana, forcing her eyes to the ground to hide her surprise and trepidation. The king himself seemed curious as much as defensive and Brittany only smiled pleasantly.
Sunshine sensed the mood and vanished along with the king's mount and she wondered if the girl wasn't the wisest of them all.
"You may," he said carefully.
"With the winter season approaching I know we must move our servants, but, I wonder, could Santana merely move to my room?"
Archibald frowned at the request, his eyes moving to Matthew as if the other man could detect some sort of trap in the request, "Do not worry, you will still be able to call her should you need her in the night."
"I am aware, I merely thought it would be best if she were to stay with me, not only to assist me, but to keep me warm as well since my king is so far from me."
He frowned slightly then began to nod, "I hardly see how the furs you have been provided are insufficient," the king started, clearly wanting to argue over the matter, but then he visibly calmed. "But it can never hurt to be overly cautious, so yes, she can stay with you."
Brittany merely nodded her thanks as her husband left, keeping a simple and demure air about her. Santana didn't know how, because she was positively ecstatic and had to work to return her face to a more neutral setting before she looked up.
Matthew was excused to walk his horse to the stables and when he returned Sunshine appeared, as if by magic, to follow him and her king as he swept away to take care of whatever matters concerned him.
Once alone Santana turned to Brittany with a grin, "I think you may be the most brilliant woman in all the world."
She smiled back, "I don't know what you mean, it wouldn't do for the queen of the kingdom to be cold at night, would it?"
"No, that wouldn't do at all," Santana said with a chuckle.
After the affirmation that she and Brittany would soon share sleeping quarters, Santana could hardly wait for the cold to roll in. She knew the winter would be raw and rough, but if to crawl into bed with Brittany at the end of the day was the reward then she was more than ready for it.
Especially since their evenings at the garden were never more than casual hand holding. And the nights where Santana didn't see Azimio lurking were so few that the last time she'd had the queen in any sort of romantic sense had been before the king had beaten her so badly.
During court was when they were the closest and Santana treasured every second, which was why it was distressing, not to mention confusing, when the king called for her right before the endless parade of citizens began.
"You, there," were his words to her, and he had to repeat them twice, because he hadn't spoken to her directly since she had first arrived at the castle and it had only been to tell her to go receive lashings.
Finally understanding that she was being called, she turned to the king to see his cold, grey eyes resting on her, leaving no doubt who he was speaking to.
Cautiously, Santana stood, fully aware of Brittany's worried eyes following her, and walked over to the king's seat.
"Yes, sire?" she asked, keeping her eyes off his in case she was unable to keep the hate out of them.
"I need you to fetch Matthew for me," he said lazily.
Santana fought to keep her face still and looked up, noticing for the first time that he was not at Archibald's side as he usually was. Only Karofsky stood nearby, his beady eyes scanning the room, glaring at those that desired an audience with the king.
"I do not know where-"
"He is in his rooms. Fetch him now," the tone left no room for further questioning and Santana merely nodded as she left the prodigious area before the proceedings began.
She had never been to Matthew's room, as a matter of fact she had never been to the king's. Although she did indeed know that they were a few halls down from the queen's chambers, traveling through the servants' stairwells had her a little lost. After a time she found the right path and spotted the large, decorative door that belonged to the king and several others to either side that were far less impressive. She assumed since the king and queen were meant to share a room allotments had been made for both their personal servants and any others they wanted to keep on hand. As to which door was Matthew's was the part that threw her a little, but deciding the worst that could happen would be to get it wrong and find no one she opened the one on the left that was closest to the king's.
Immediately she knew she had the wrong room.
Though no one was inside and she wouldn't pretend to know Matthew on a deep level, she didn't take him for the type to have weapons all over the walls, clothes littering the floor and empty bottles of ale laying around. And when a strong, familiar musk hit her she became aware that this was Karofsky's.
With a look of distaste she closed the door and opened the other on the right of the king's, thinking that his servant's would be closest. She was right, but had to assume the threadbare room she looked into was Sunshine's, the only proof the room was lived in were the nightclothes the girl had already laid out for herself on the bed.
A sigh of frustration escaped her as she closed the door and opened the one next to it, hoping to find Matthew there. Her wish came true when she opened the door to find the man sitting at a desk in his small room, pouring over the documents that covered it. The room was more like she pictured, there were drawings of various places and contraptions covering the walls, and all of the open corners were piled high with books.
When she opened the door he looked up with a half smile and waved her in, "Come, have a seat."
She was tempted to, but hesitated as her orders had not been to linger, "The king has called for you."
Without looking up Matthew continued to look over the paper in his hands that seemed to be full of numbers, "No, he didn't. He instructed you to come here so I could bed you for the sake of giving you a child."
Santana's eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock, not knowing what to say, and she was mildly unsure of what to do.
"Are you planning to…" she couldn't finish her sentence because the reality of it was too horrible.
He finally looked up at her, wounded, "You really do think I have no heart."
"Matthew, if the king commanded it, how am I to know you won't do it?"
Shaking his head, he stood and moved to close the door. Santana tensed, looking ready to run out of it before he could, but he stopped, looking down at her with weary eyes. "Can you trust me? Please?" he asked, and reluctantly she stepped further inside, allowing the door to close behind her.
Returning to his original position, he picked up his papers again and motioned towards the bed, "Sit."
Santana eyed it distrustfully, but decided she would not insult Matthew further and sat gingerly on the edge, "So you plan to work?"
"My exact instructions were to meet you here and take you as many times as I could manage before court let out. So yes, Santana, I plan to work."
"And the king won't be angry you disobeyed?" she challenged, wanting the assurance that he had thought his decision through thoroughly before she fully trusted it.
"How will he know? I can hardly see the man that needed the better part of seven years to sire a child trying to give me grief for an unsuccessful evening romp."
"I thought we had settled this some time ago," Santana said, irritated at the fact that the king had so easily given her body over due to his random whim.
"Once he gets an idea in his head that he believes is a good one there is little anyone can do to change it. He knows that the notion upset the queen at first, so he has decided to hide it from her until the deed is done. The tragedy is he really does think he is doing a good thing by me, the queen and his child."
"So I must assume he is not concerned whether he has done right by me or not."
Matthew shook his head slowly, "He still doesn't remember your name."
"It's for the best." There was a brief silence before Santana spoke again, "Would you? Like a son, I mean." When his eyebrow went up she waved her hands, "Not that I'm offering."
He sighed and looked back to his papers, "Yes and no. I would like a family of my own, but I know that in this kingdom that is a dream that will never be. I would like a son to love and to teach, but the king is quite mistaken if he believes I would want to put a child into the same life I lead."
"I don't know, I think your position is one of the best possible for a slave."
His eyes fell a little as he said, "I would wish my burden on no man or woman, least of all a son of mine."
Understanding his meaning, she lay back on the bed, looking around at the various artwork and making attempts at reading the spines of the books in the corner closest to her. At the top of one stack was a book of traveler's lore, or at least she assumed it was, and it had a great beast on the cover, reminding her unpleasantly of Azimio.
Carefully she took the book and looked through its pages, seeing countless depictions of creatures and monsters of the sea. It seemed interesting and once again she felt the inadequacies of her schooling and the loss of what she had been taught, so she put it down, putting her mind elsewhere.
"Have you solved the problem with Azimio yet?"
"No," Matthew said distractedly, "There is no real plan for the time being. The king sovereign made it clear that Azimio was to stay and await his return, so he cannot be sent away, and again, he is our best chance in a battle, so we can't risk putting him in the dungeons, therefore he roams free. But I did speak to him about his duties, he hasn't bothered you since, has he?"
"Not directly, but he lurks nearby frequently."
He paused and glanced at her, "Then be careful in his presence."
When it was time for court to end Santana was ready to go, but not before pulling Matthew's shirt out of his pants to give him a more disheveled look. He had laughed and ruffled her hair before exiting, allowing her some time to leave after him.
Returning to the servants' stairwell she navigated her way back to the court, only to find she had gotten turned around and ended up at the kitchens instead. It wasn't a problem since she knew her way from there, but as she turned to backtrack she found a looming shadow in her way.
Azimio himself was standing in front of her with an expression that made every monster in the book she had looked through seem cute by comparison.
"Come wit me," he said, and it wasn't a question.
Especially since his large hand grasped the back of her shirt and he hauled her alongside him like a scolded dog. They left the kitchens and marched through the armory where she saw Puck give her a worried look before she was yanked along. As she trailed behind him, she realized where they were headed, and dread filled her. He was taking her to the understeward's shed.
Where he had beaten a girl to death.
Santana attempted to struggle only to be cuffed across the head so hard it made the world spin. He dragged her inside the smelly construct and shoved her to the ground, recovering from the rough handling she crouched into a sitting position, ready to take her chance to run.
He circled her, looking her over with predatory eyes, and for a moment she was tempted to ask what he wanted, but then he finally spoke.
"Where are Michael and Tina?" He said it with such ease she suspected he had either practiced the phrase to be understood better or had improved from asking the question so much.
"I don't know-" again her head spun when he cuffed her for a second time, a jarred place in her head marveled at how he wasn't even trying to hit her as hard as he could. These were mere reprimands.
"I know you know. De othas say you spoke wit them often. Where are they?"
She knew saying she had no idea was going to get her hit once more, but to lie would imply that she knew something, and that would make her something to report to the king.
"I swear I don't know," she repeated, closing her eyes and preparing for another strike. But it didn't come, he only stood there with his eyes boring holes into her.
He cracked his neck and walked over to the far wall that was still covered in the most painful looking devices, but he did not reach for one. Instead, he went for something white on the table against the wall.
At first glance she thought it was a statue of a naked woman, and realistically it was, though the buxom woman was merely a decorative carving in the hilt of a whip that she had never seen before. There were about eight or nine tendrils that fell from the end of it and ended in large knots, making them appear to be the hair of the woman engraved in the handle. It looked like an item for brushing away dirt more than causing pain, but her throbbing head told her no matter what it was, with his strength, it would hurt if she were hit.
Slowly, he approached again and knelt in front of her, "Tell me," he said simply.
She gulped, looking at the object in his hands and decided that there was no reasoning to be had. Quickly, she sprang to her feet and dashed to the door, desperate to get outside the shack; she had never run from a lashing before, but this one she knew was unsanctioned and could easily be fatal. Unfortunately, for all his size, Azimio was as nimble as she was and, with the finesse of a man much smaller than him, leapt up and shoved her forcefully back down.
He released the tendrils of hair and stood menacingly before her, "I will not ask this again. Where are they?"
In answer Santana leapt up again, this time hoping to put a distance between herself and her attacker and keep it there, but again he was faster. And this time his whip talked for him.
It had been her belief that he had held a whip, but when the ends of it hit her she immediately decided that the thing was tipped with magical blades, because it cut her flesh even with the barrier of her blouse.
With a yelp she hit the ground, panic and pain clouding her mind, keeping her still when she knew she had to escape. By the time she worked that out Azimio was over her it was too late to run so she curled up instinctively, exposing her back to another razor sharp slap.
The agony of it got her to move again and she ran once more for the door, and once more she was stopped, but this time Azimio caught her by the collar of her blouse and pulled her back.
"De king wants dem back. Tell me where dey are," he demanded, his anger making his accent thicker, and before she was even given a chance to answer the heavy strike of the whip caught her back again and she couldn't breathe from the pain.
Desperate, she tried wrench free of her clothing, going as far as to try and rip it off, though he seemed unconcerned with her attempts. Then, as she twisted and squirmed, he yanked her shirt up for better access bunching it up by her neck, choking her. She dangled from his hand like a small animal spinning slightly as she struggled to get free. When the whip flashed again he struck bare skin, but the strike missed her back and caught her half around the front, placing three cuts along her abdomen like the claws of a wild cat.
The lack of air, combined with the force and shocking pain of the whip on the tender skin of her stomach and side, made her vision blur and her ears ring loudly. Kicking desperately for purchase on the ground she managed a clean strike to his groin. To her misfortune, the act of kicking him between the legs was only enough to make him stagger and become mad enough to cuff her again. A blow that knocked the sense from her.
She was conscious, but unaware; everything felt like it was slipping away and when he asked her a question she had no idea what it was even about. Words and reason escaped her, all she could see were angry, brown eyes and after that a pain so sharp it made white lights pop in front of her vision.
Then, suddenly, she wasn't dangling painfully by her neck, she was on the ground behind Brittany, Azimio standing before them both looking like he was willing to strike the queen just to get to her. There was enough awareness in Santana to know she needed to stop that from happening, and with tremendous effort she got unsteadily to her feet. But she couldn't move forward, couldn't shout, couldn't even think of words to say had she been able to. To her fortune there was no need.
For the first time ever she was glad to see Karofsky and Archibald charge in, the larger man taking a hold of Azimio as the king exploded in anger at his near assault of the queen.
Santana's eyes wandered from that scene to the door where Puck stood, his face unreadable as he watched the tongue lashing being given out. Matthew was a few steps behind, looking rather upset, and she was dimly able to conclude that they must have been the reason she was found.
But as upset as Matthew and Puck were it was nothing compared to the woman who stood before her.
Brittany was in complete hysterics and it slowly dawned on Santana that the entire time she had been calling her, trying to get a response. Lazily she looked over the tear stained face and wanted to do something to make her happy again. She could hear Brittany, distantly, as if she were calling her from inside a room down a long hallway. The queen was calling frantically to her, but Santana didn't know what to say. As off kilter as she was she knew there were things that couldn't be said in front of just anyone, unfortunately she couldn't remember what those things were.
The queen lowered her to the ground and into her arms still calling for her to speak, but all Santana could do was simply lay there trembling and bleeding, unable to move and barely able to think.
And then, from the fog of her mind, Santana remembered the fox in the woods, how it had lay dying in Brittany's arms and it occurred to her that it had been the luckiest fox in the world. Before it went to the beyond it got to spend its final moments with someone who genuinely cared. How many foxes could claim that?
So it was with great importance that she looked up to the watery blue eyes and said, "I'm a lucky fox too."
The words worried the queen, but she seemed relieved to have received a response.
Before the blonde could reply, however, the king made his way over, leaving Karofsky to usher the understeward out, "Brittany, it's bleeding all over you," he said, sounding disgusted.
"And she will continue to until Beiste arrives," she replied stubbornly.
Archibald looked almost shocked, "My dear," he said as if explaining a simple fact to someone who should know better, "Beiste is a healer for the royals-"
"So she should have no trouble treating a servant," the queen replied and there was a steely, unyielding tone to her voice.
The king wanted to argue the point, but was also determined to give his wife what she wanted so he turned to Matthew and nodded. The other man vanished and Santana watched, wondering what sort of beast he would bring back.
"Maybe we should get you out of-" the king tried, but Brittany wouldn't hear a word of it.
"She doesn't leave my sight," she growled with a ferocity that Santana was quite sure she had never witnessed from the other woman.
A sound of resignation left the king as he took a step back and together they waited for the healer to arrive.
By the time Beiste came Santana had gained most of her senses back, which was a little unfortunate, because her back was on fire and her head felt like she had been drinking for two days straight, but she had been through worse. Just not in so short a time.
The healer lifted her and they began to move swiftly. Brittany was beside Beiste, keeping pace with the larger woman until they reached the queen's rooms. Santana was a little surprised since there was a healers tent not far from the shed, to be taken to the queen's own chambers for treatment was quite unusual. Beiste ventured to say as much, but one look from Brittany silenced her.
She was brought inside, treated, and given a bitter tasting brew for pain that, like with Brittany, put her right to sleep.
Her sleep wasn't peaceful, though. As the day passed she woke into a foggy world of people who were having discussions as if she wasn't there, and, as far as they knew, she wasn't.
The first time she woke it was to Archibald shouting about a servant laying bloodied in the queen's bed, but Brittany silenced him with the argument that he had already agreed they could share. It wasn't the point he had been making, but he conceded anyway.
The next time she woke it was to the feeling of Brittany at her bedside, slowly stroking her hair while crying softly. She wanted to wake completely then, to reach out and tell her everything would be fine, to explain that it wasn't the worst beating she'd had by far, to be the pillar of strength Brittany had been for her when Santana had found her hurt. But instead she was pulled back into a dreamless sleep.
When her eyes opened again it was again to a barrage of sound coming from outside the door. She wasn't sure if Brittany was with her, but it sounded like the halls were filled with people, all shouting back and forth to one another.
It was odd, but not enough to pull her from her fog and after that she finally was able to fall into a deep sleep that carried her through the night.
Morning came and Santana opened her eyes to find that, though it was pounding to the point of feeling as though it would split, her head was clear.
And how glad she was for it when she turned to find Brittany next to her, still asleep, her hair falling gently over her shoulders and framing her relaxed, carefree face.
It was almost unbelievable that such beauty was hers to observe and she realized with a fluttering heart that this was the first time she had woken next to her queen. And that with the upcoming winter this could be the first time of many.
After giving the room a careful sweep with her eyes, she leaned over, ignoring the protest from her back and side, and kissed the blonde until she woke to return it. But the exchange was short as Brittany sat up and looked her over, worry returning to her face as she remembered the previous day.
"How are you feeling?" she asked immediately.
"Surprisingly well, considering," Santana replied as she climbed out of bed and crossed the room to the dresser where she saw her blouse and pants folded neatly.
Brittany clambered out of bed as well, moving to Santana's side as if it were her duty. The smaller woman only smiled and leaned over and gave her another kiss.
"Go back to sleep, mi reina, I'm fine."
"You aren't," she said, tears almost immediately springing to her eyes.
Santana unfolded her shirt to put it on and saw that the despite being red it was obviously blood covered and the back was tattered, the whip had in fact torn it. Her back and side had been heavily bandaged, but peeking beneath the one around her stomach she could see she had been fixed up quite nicely. The salve on her wounds was similar to what had been used when Karofsky had beaten her, but it was far better at suppressing pain and smelled much nicer. She supposed it was the difference in the care of slaves in comparison to the care given to royals.
"I have been hurt far worse before, really, his knocks to the head pained me more," she said, rubbing the lump that she now knew to have grown on her temple.
Brittany took a step closer, "And what about Matthew?"
Santana's brow furrowed, "What about Matthew?"
"Artie told me he… that he sent you to-"
"Oh!" she said, suddenly understanding, "No, no, he did not touch me," she said, taking Brittany's cheeks in her hands and looking deep into her eyes to convey her sincerity.
The queen let out a relieved sigh while looking like she was afraid to believe it, "He didn't?"
"I sat in his room and talked with him about his books… and my need to avoid Azimio," she said, looking at her bandages.
Brittany smiled her first real, exuberant smile of the morning and kissed Santana happily, "I was so scared he had forced himself on you. I didn't think that at all like him, but when Artie told me I let my imagination run away with me."
"Don't worry yourself any longer," she said, pulling on the tattered shirt since she had nothing else to leave in.
"I thought you were dying," Brittany said quietly, sadness and fear in her voice, "I had you in my arms and I thought I'd lost you."
"But you didn't," Santana replied easily to lighten the mood.
"Artie scolded Azimio and warned him to never do that again, but I'm still afraid for you to go."
Santana turned and hugged her despite how it made her ache all over, "I'm going to go clean myself and eat and you should rest until I return. Azimio will not catch me again, I promise." And she meant it, she would do anything to keep her queen from feeling so sorry for her again.
"I worry sometimes, that it will always be like this," she said, moving to sit on the bed, "Where we watch each other suffer and can do nothing about it. This is why I feel like the worst kind of person for wanting you to stay."
With an easy smile, she knelt before the queen, taking soft hands into her own, "But you didn't ask me, you gave me the choice and I chose to stay."
"But I wonder if you would choose the same thing if you had another chance," she said and Santana was surprised to see she was quite serious.
"I'm quite sure I would," she said, knowing that there was nowhere else she would rather be, bleeding backside or no.
The moment Santana had stepped out of the queen's chambers and into her own to fetch a clean shirt she knew things were different. Soldiers dashed up and down the halls quickly, all eager to get somewhere. The servants' passages were busier than usual considering how early it was and the river was almost free of any company; even though the morning was chilly there were usually still a few out to bathe.
The dining hall was the same, few servants were there to eat and the ones that were gulped their food down as if someone was planning to take it.
She was a little surprised to see Matthew still lingering, whenever busy people were to be found he was usually the busiest. Today he merely sat, looking at the usual stew next to Puck who was eating heartily.
"Good morning, what's all the commotion?" Santana asked, sitting across from them.
"West attacked," Puck answered through a mouthful of food.
Santana was startled, wondering why Brittany hadn't said something. Then again, why would she have? What did it matter?
"Did they attack the castle?"
"No," Matthew answered, "They came inland and attacked one of our outposts, killing everyone there. The king is furious."
"Inna complete rage," Puck added.
Her fear for the queen must have shown in her face, because Matthew waved a hand, "He has not gone to seek retribution on his wife, he merely means to hand the castle over to the enemy."
That news shocked her, "Really?"
Puck finished his food and belched heavily, "No, he just don't agree with th' king's choice," he said before standing to leave, "Gotta get back t' work, lotsa things need makin'."
She watched him go before looking back at Matthew, "What is the king's choice?"
Pushing his bowl aside, he looked to Santana with the eyes of a man who had seen too much, "The king plans to attack the raiders, personally, on what is essentially their home land. The entire attack is most likely a ruse to have us send out our best fighting force, but little do they know our king plans to deliver himself as well."
Santana tried to keep the grin off her face, "And how is this bad? The king rides off into battle and springs a trap he was simple enough to fall for."
"Assuming he isn't killed, the castle will be taken hostage and he will be required to yield, if he does not they will begin to kill castle inhabitants until he does, starting with the queen. Especially now that she carries a legitimate heir. Never mind the danger it puts us all in. And let's say it isn't a trap at all, merely an aggressive move and he manages to repress it, all he will have proved is that he is headstrong, foolish and impulsive. And with Azimio being so unpredictable this may all culminate in one man killing all his allies at the start of the battle," he snapped his breath, heaving with anger.
She still hoped the king met his end on the tip of a barbed sword, but she did not like what the repercussions meant for the queen, "We should get ready to see our masters to their morning meal," was her only reply.
When she and Matthew had parted ways the man was still quite worked up, and when she brought Brittany down to her meal he and the king had yet to arrive.
It was when the queen was partway finished that the doors burst open to a tumult of arguing between Archibald and Matthew who were followed at a distance by Karofsky and Sunshine.
"Then tell me what you gain!" Matthew was practically shouting, "Name one thing you gain by riding off and leaving the castle unprotected!"
"Respect!" he shouted back, equally as incensed, "I hear what is said about me! I cannot have the entire kingdom thinking you are the sole reason for my success, it is time for me to rule on my own, do what I think is right."
"Is it worth losing this entire war over?!"
"Matthew, watch your words! I value your opinion, but I will not have you imply that I am not skilled in battle!"
The darker man looked like he might burst into flames with rage, "No matter your skill it is still possible to lose, and a loss here will kill us."
"I will not lose! You haven't even heard the entirety of my plan!"
"Then explain it!"
"It is for the council to hear, I do not need pass it by you first!" he snapped before sitting heavily in his seat.
Brittany and Santana pretended not to listen to the exchange, even though they were hanging on every word. Even as he ate he continued to seethe with anger, so when he finished his meal and called for Brittany, Santana was wary and quite aware of where the table knives were.
The queen walked to where her husband sat and once she arrived he stood and beckoned for her to follow, "Come, we are going to council."
Brittany blinked in surprise, as did Santana, "My lord?" the queen asked as she fell into step next to him Santana close on her heels.
"I am leaving by nightfall. Since this campaign may run for a time I give you permission to use my quarters to rest for the health of the baby - and yes, your damn servant can sleep with you," he snapped when she looked like she might interject. "I will leave Matthew to guide you while I am gone, trust his council," Santana had to physically suppress a scoff. "Karofsky will be with me, but I am leaving Azimio here. Do not worry, I have spoken with him and it is as Matthew suspected, he merely wants to be returned to the position he held before my father left. I have informed him hurting you or your servants without permission will only make matters worse, his redemption lies in protecting the castle. He understands, so do not worry."
"And if he doesn't?" Brittany asked.
"He does," the king replied before approaching the large council doors and pushing them open.
Santana followed Brittany inside, once again marveling at how unnecessarily grand the whole thing was.
The old men in the room had been talking amongst themselves, but when the king entered, the room fell silent.
Walking directly up to his honored position, he pulled Brittany to stand by his chair while Santana fetched her a seat. "My lords," he said loudly, not bothering to sit even as Brittany did, "As you have all known since last night, we have been attacked, and as you also know I plan to retaliate personally."
"And you must know we find that decision foolish," the familiar old man in the front center row said.
"I do, but let me inform you I plan to do far more than retaliate. I plan to raid the north." With those words the room came alive with chatter. "I will take my troops and acquire the furs this castle needs and more, then I will descend to the western outpost before word can be sent out and quell that foolish act of rebellion. I will do all this, my lords, and return home victoriously."
The old man in front seemed too flabbergasted to talk, so the equally old man next to him spoke instead, "You wish to split our forces, to go into northern territory to raid them for supplies they know we will come for, and then, with your remaining manpower, ride a moon's turn southwest to our overthrown outpost to fight again?"
The front center councilman found his voice before Archibald could answer, "You will be taking most of the furs we are already so short on and should you fail in your first endeavor you will have killed us all. The nobles will rebel, there will be chaos."
"So I won't fail," he said easily.
Santana chanced a glance at Matthew who was pinching the bridge of his nose as if hearing the words hurt him.
"You arrogant- how can you say that when you have never been in battle?!"
"My lords, we can argue this further, but you have given me permission to do as I wish, so it shall be done. I will raid the north, I will send the acquired furs home and swear those not killed in battle under my banner. The north will fall and join me to crush the small outpost, our numbers will overwhelm them and we will be home before the word has spread that we left. All I need from you today is to acknowledge my regent."
All the eyes in the room then turned to Brittany and Santana wanted badly to duck behind her chair.
"You are sure you wish to name Queen Brittany your regent?" the first old man asked as if maybe Archibald was unaware of how stupid they thought the idea.
"I am."
"Then it is so," the old man sighed, seeming to come to the same resignation Matthew had.
With that he swept from the room, Karofsky and Matthew tailing after. Brittany rose and followed, Santana behind her, not saying a word until they were well down the hall and away from other's ears.
"I thought he might do that," she said sadly.
"Do what? Name you regent?"
"Yes."
"That means you have all of the power of a king until he returns, doesn't it?"
"Yes, or should he die or be gone too long, until his child comes of age."
Santana still saw sadness in her and it was confusing, "That sounds like a good thing, right?"
"It means that until he returns I hold his power, and, though the council would never allow me to release them all, I could set a few servants free... I could set you free," she said softly.
The queen was obviously unsure and worried that her lover may ask her to exercise her newfound power as soon as possible, but Santana only laughed.
"I'm quite happy right where I am," she said, gently taking Brittany's hand and giving a reassuring squeeze, "I know things will always be hard, and I cannot show the world how I love you, but please know I never want to leave you."
Brittany brightened again and took Santana's arm in hers before leading her down the hall that would take them to court.
It was a strange feeling to know that this would be the last day that the queen would be second to any man. That when the sun rose the next morning she would be the lone ruler of the Abrams Kingdom.
A/N: In case you're wondering (and you probably aren't): Yes Azimio is rockin a Cat o' Nine Tails.
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