I'm working my way through Cleon's visit and Wyldon's interviews, but I thought I would give a brief glimpse back at the lives of those left behind in the meantime. I found it very interesting to look at some of the more peripheral characters, so if you have a suggestion for a lesser-known person you've been wanting to see written about, send me a message and I'll see what I can do. Also, I'm sorry for the major eye strain of the last few chapters. I tried to space these out better, hopefully that helped a bit. I apologize in advance for the confusion with italics- in some places they mean thoughts, in others a flashback. If you know a better way to differentiate, please share. Thanks!

10. Cost

The mug of tea waiting on her husband's desk had long grown cold and the calls of the night watchmen could be heard through her open window, but still Ilane waited.

What use was a diplomat to a war council anyway? Piers was a brilliant negotiator, but even she could see that the time for negotiations was long past. They were at war now; why was her husband still being summoned to ceaseless meetings? Ilane knew she should feel honored to see his advice placed in such high esteem. The best minds of the court were gathered, and he had been included among Sir Myles, Lord Gareth, all the King's most trusted advisors.

They had given up on trying to avoid the war; it was inevitable. Now they looked for ways to keep the Tortallan losses to a minimum. It was a necessary topic of discussion, of course, one that could quite possibly save the lives of her family and their fellow soldiers in the near future. But at that moment, Ilane couldn't help but feel that however much Tortall needed Piers, she needed him more. She needed him to hold her and tell her that they would make it through this.

The baroness looked out into the clear night, wondering if any of her children were doing the same. It was almost two weeks to the day since they had ridden north. Ilane was concerned for all of them, Inness, Conal, and Keladry, not to mention the husband and fiancé of her older daughters; but she knew it was Kel who gave her the most sleepless nights.

She had always worried about her youngest daughter, forced to grow up among foreign faces and strange customs. Watching Kel struggle to learn to control her emotions, Ilane had been proud of her girl, proud of the way she accepted what was thrown at her and attacked it with a determination that left even the Yamanis speechless. Not that they usually had much to say. It wasn't until they had returned from the Islands that Ilane had realized the price of acceptance; Kel had become so adept at hiding her emotions that no one, not even her own mother, could tell what she was thinking.

When she had come to say her goodbye, Kel's eyes had betrayed none of the tumult of emotions her mother was sure lay in wait just beneath the surface. How quickly she had grown from the stubborn child with an impossible dream to the confident and resolved young woman who didn't allow herself to glance back as she walked out of the room, ready to find her place in the world.

Kel was so like Anders. They had the same fierce belief in what it meant to be a knight of the realm and the same fierce determination to do right by their men, their country, and themselves. It had surprised her at first, that of all her children it would be the youngest and the oldest who would share a special bond.

Usually it gave her comfort, knowing that her two most reserved had someone to trust with their true feelings. At this moment, though, it terrified her. Anders had barely survived the Immortals War. Not because he had been too weak, but because he had been too noble. The letter from his commanding officer had called Anders a hero of the highest order; the man said he had never seen a soldier take on that many spidren alone before. And the little girl had survived.

Ilane knew her son had not considered himself a hero as he fought his way through the crowd of immortals. He probably hadn't even realized there was a choice. A knight protected the weak, and Anders was a knight. No one knew why he hadn't died that day, except maybe the gods. There were scars to show for it, sure, but they were the good kind of scars. Or at least that was what she told him.

Now Kel was riding off to battle, the one who had always been so similar to him, the one who would make the same choice as her brother. Or rather, wouldn't even need to choose, just like Anders. Maybe her baby wouldn't be so lucky. Maybe she would die a noble death on some unknown battlefield. Knowing that she would not hesitate- that was the most frightening.

She felt soft hands on her back, massaging her tense shoulders. She hadn't even heard him enter the room. Piers didn't seem surprised to see his wife still awake at such a late hour. He matched her gaze with his own; together the two weary parents stared out into the impenetrable darkness of the night and prayed for the lives of their children. A soft breath tickled her ear without breaking the silent spell that had fallen over them.

"Everything is going to be okay."

Across the courtyard, Ilane noticed a candle burning. So they were not the only ones keeping a vigil tonight. Realizing whose window blazed bright against the shadows, she had to believe that Piers was right. At least she had her husband here with her, to share in any burden they might be asked to bear in the coming days.

It was easy to dwell on the what-ifs of war; it was easy to forget all the good that still remained. But they couldn't forget; life had to go on. Otherwise, the soldiers would be fighting an empty battle, and their deaths would be for nothing.

Ilane reached for her husband's hand, leading him quietly to their bed. Tomorrow she would invite the Duchess of Queenscove to tea. It was no time for anyone to be alone, especially the ones who had been left behind. Everything was going to be okay.