Here is a very long chapter to make up for how long it's been. :) If anyone's still reading this story.
I hope this chapter's ok. I may fix it. Hopefully I can get more of this story done this summer...and perhaps something will actually happen in it. It's getting pretty long. Maybe I should just rush to the end...or just be ok with the fact this is a long story. I wish I had more time to write fanfic...I don't want to abandon this story. Especially since I have some cool/interesting things that will happen at the end. The middle's always the thing...
Rain pattered softly onto Jason's umbrella, which he shared with Connie. She huddled snugly against him. All around them, people were jumbled in a vast mass on the cobblestone plaza. A red brick building with ornate white trim stood in front of them. On either side its large central balcony stood two soldiers; the center of the balcony was empty.
A strong feeling of déjà vu hit Jason. Along with an echo of apprehension. Last time he was here, he'd been undercover, listening to the speech of the communist premier, Karl von Warberg. And then a soldier had started beating a man for holding his umbrella for his wife—a sign of disrespect to the premier—and Jason had gone to rescue the man. He'd beaten the soldier to the ground, felt a rush of exultation—and then realization slammed into him of what he'd done. Made it impossible to finish their mission—and maybe not even get out of the country alive.
Somehow, his impetuous actions had not ended in their deaths—and miraculously, events had worked together to bring about the downfall of the communists and the rule of the king. But not before the king was nearly executed, in this very square….He could almost hear the surge of the crowds as they attacked the soldiers who'd oppressed them for decades. The bloody, glorious clash of revolution. Despite the insistence of others, it had happened in spite of him, not because of him.
Elena had said that his actions had given the people hope. But that had all been an act. She had been working for Zahl all along….He fought the memory of her lips on his. How had he ever fallen for her? What a foolish boy he'd been…..
Tasha stood on his right, Gray beside her. Somehow she'd coaxed him out to this vast crowd. Admiration stirred in Jason—he knew in a small way what effort it took to face your fears. And with the pain Gray was going through, it would take a lot of strength to simply be here.
Gray's jaw was taut, his face pale under the umbrella. His blond hair was sticking up in spikes and he wore an immaculate charcoal suit. He almost looked like the old Gray, and a chill ran through Jason. But his very posture was tense, his fists clenched against his sides as he looked straight forward, as if trying to avoid seeing anything close to him.
A man walked onto the balcony. The king. He wore a black suit with a red sash across it. Behind him stood Darya, resplendent in a silver gown. A muted roar swept through the crowd, interspersed with cheers. People from the media began snapping pictures, leaning against the iron fence; security guards in dark sunglasses stepped closer warningly.
The king's voice boomed out over the square. He spoke of the accomplishments of the last seventeen years. Of his own journey to become king, hiding with the Romani, and in the cabin in the Czech mountains, and then coming back to share the fate of his people.
"When I stood on that scaffold, I told you that even though I would die, you should not give up hope. It was not me—it was you who started the revolution. It would not have happened if you hadn't acted against your oppressors. As long as we let the flame of freedom burn in our hearts, as long as we don't forget the lessons of history, we will forge forward into an even greater future.
"As I pledged on the day of my coronation, I will always serve you, and protect that future with all that is within me."
A swell of applause and cheers burst around them. The king spoke and they quieted again. "At midnight, Muldavia will officially be one hundred years old. If it is God's will, we will celebrate another centennial in a hundred years. As long as we remain a nation of freedom and of justice."
The crowd cheered, tossed confetti in the air. Hats flew high and disappeared in the crush of the crowd.
The rain had lightened and Jason collapsed his umbrella. Connie's hand snuck into his. They made their way through the mass of people; they could hardly help but bump into someone. Jason looked back to make sure Tasha was coming and saw Gray's face, white and drawn, his eyes shot through with fear and pain.
They reached the front gate. Security men blocked them, hands near their guns.
"We have an invitation," said Jason, his voice drowned out by the roar of the crowd. He carefully reached into his shirt and drew out a piece of paper with the king's signature on it. A guard inspected it with a frown and then nodded. He unlocked the gate and let them in, then shut it swiftly before a member of the paparazzi could dart inside.
Escorted by some guards, they walked into a large hall with a red marble floor and eighteenth-century portraits on the walls. Then they went through a labyrinth of narrow corridors until they reached a large room with long rectangle tables decorated with Muldavian flags and abundant bouquets.
"This is beautiful," said Connie softly.
"The one in the US was just a pale imitation. This is the real thing."
"It's nice to have another reason to wear my dress!"
"You look stunning." He kissed her cheek, remembering the banquet in DC, how he'd longed to be closer to her, close the gap, repair their love….
"You look amazing yourself." She kissed him lightly on the lips.
The guards ushered them to the table at the front of the room, where a few people had gathered already. They sat down next to their nameplates, Connie on his right, Gray on his left and Tasha beside him.
"Are you all right?" Jason asked. Gray's face was ashen.
"Yes. It is…better now, out of the crowd." He looked at Tasha. "Without you, I could not have done it."
"It's part of my job to get you back into peak operating condition."
"I will fight to become an agent if it's the last thing I do."
"It will take time, but you have it in you to overcome this."
"I'll be praying for you, Gray," said Jason.
"Me too," said Connie.
Gray looked taken aback; he nodded but did not reply.
A woman with short red hair strode up to the table.
"If it's not Jason Whittaker!" she said, leaning across the table with proffered hand, which Jason took.
For a moment, Jason couldn't place her. Then an image sparked in his memory. "Dana?"
"Yes! I'm flattered you remembered."
"Well, you're hard to forget."
She laughed and sat down next to Leila. "So what have you been doing with yourself since last time? Saving any more countries?"
Heat rose to Jason's cheeks. "No…well, I never did much to save this one."
"Nonsense! You were instrumental in bringing the prince back, saving him from Zahl."
"After almost getting him killed."
She waved one hand. "All's well that ends well. And who's this? You're beautiful bride?"
"Yes. This is Connie. How'd you know?"
She shrugged. "I'm a reporter; discovering the truth is what I do." She held out her hand to Connie, who took it. "It's nice to meet you, Connie. I'm Dana."
"It's nice to meet you!"
"So how long have you been married? Any kids?"
"Not yet," said Jason, stiffening, hoping to avoid any more questions about children. "We've been married—oh, four months."
Surprise crossed her face. "I would have guessed at least a few years. Though you do have this honeymoon glow about you…."
"We were friends for years before we got married," said Connie.
"Ah, the best kind of relationship. Like my second marriage."
"Where's your husband now?" asked Jason.
"He has to work tonight."
"During the Centennial?"
"He's a security guard. We met on a story—never looked back. It's been five years. So—you were never married before this?"
"I took my time."
"To find the right one, I see." She smiled. "Well, congratulations."
"Thank you," said Connie. She slid her hand into Jason's, lacing her fingers with his.
A group of people spilled into the room and filled the remaining seats at the table. Stefan, Luna, a beautiful girl in a red dress, a man who looked vaguely familiar, a woman with gray streaking her long dark hair—Jason had seen her before. "Marija?"
"Jason!"
Marija embraced him, then she introduced her husband, Stefan Sr., whom Jason had met just once after he'd had gotten out of prison. He looked much better now, hearty and strong rather than thin and frail. She also introduced Zara, the young woman in red, who curtseyed and gave a bright smile. "Maybe we can dance this time," she said, her eyes twinkling. He remembered her as a little five-year-old girl, twirling around the fire….
Sofia and Nikola, Marija's parents, came over and gave Jason a hug. They had saved his life when he'd been shot, and brought him to their camp to heal. Jason introduced Connie and they all welcomed her as if she were part of their extended family.
Then the Muldavian national anthem played and everyone stood. Many sang the words, which Jason didn't know, so he just laid his hand on his heart, pondering the sacrifices of the past that suddenly seemed so vivid, as if he'd leaped in time from the revolution to the centennial. The contrast made his heart skip a beat. He drew Connie close; she pressed her cheek to his.
Then the king and queen entered and the crowd hushed. Behind them walked the prince, James, in a dark suit that matched his father's. The king took his place at one head of the table, the queen on the other, while James sat beside Tasha.
The king welcomed everyone and led them in prayer. Then waiters brought in hors d'oeuvres on tiered crystal plates. Connie lifted a crepe shaped like a flower, turned it carefully around. "This looks too pretty to eat!"
She ate it slowly, as if savoring every bite. "It's really good." She snatched up another. "Oh—I don't want to eat all of them."
"That's okay," said Dana. "There's more where those came from."
"Anything you want, just ask!" said the prince. "You're our guests of honor. Without some of you, Muldavia wouldn't exist."
Jason wished he could set the record straight—they all thought he was some kind of hero. He knew he'd never be able to live up to the pedestal they'd put him on. It was false—a mirage. Even many years later, he hadn't become a great agent. He'd failed miserably, many times.
"I'm no hero," he said quietly, almost to himself.
"It's true, you did do some pretty foolhardy things," said Dana.
"That's an understatement."
"You were young, inexperienced. Of course you made mistakes. But you cannot downplay what we all saw, at the end. It took an outsider to show us that we could resist. And the most Muldavian of us all." She lifted her glass toward the king.
"But I too was an outsider," said the king. "I abandoned you."
"It's what you had to do. To save yourself. So you could come back and save us all. In the end, it doesn't matter what mistakes we made along the way. It's the result that matters. A hero is an ideal, a figurehead, something that doesn't really exist but which we strive for. It's the best that's in us, that overcomes what's worst in us."
"Well said," said the king, who raised a glass. "To heroes."
Jason raised his glass, which was filled with wine, and clinked it against Connie's. He took a sip; it was heavy and tangy.
"Well, I guess a little wouldn't hurt," said Connie, and she sipped some of the wine, reddening her lips. Longing sprang up inside him to kiss those lips. He had to look away for a moment or he might forget himself and kiss her right there.
"What do you think?" said Saul. "It's one of our best wines, called Lessanne."
"Delicious," said Jason.
"It's grown not far from here," said Leila. "Near where we live. If you'd like to come out to our place for a day or two, you're welcome."
"We're not exactly here on vacation."
"Of course not. But we are also investigating Yavesh, so it could be a working vacation. And you could meet our kids. They're sitting at another table with our relatives; maybe we can introduce you later."
"I'd like to meet them," said Connie. "You have five, right?"
"Gina, Tessa, Mark, Lukas, and Katrina," said Saul.
"Katrina!"
"That's our youngest," said Leila. "Is something wrong with the name?"
Connie laughed. "No! It's just that Katrina's the name of one of my good friends."
"Good namesake, then. She's our little ray of light. Our surprise baby."
"She's the sweetest little thing!" said Zara. "I want a whole bunch of kids l after I graduate."
"You need to get married first," said Marija.
"Of course, Mama." She lowered her eyes. "That's what I meant."
"Any good prospects in college?" said Nikola.
"Not yet, Grandpapa."
"Then what are we sending you to college for?"
"Nikola!" said Sofia, giving him a playful nudge.
"To be a teacher," said Zara.
"And leave the kumpania, I suppose." Nikola sighed.
"I could teach our kids."
"Times are changing," said Sofia. "The opportunities for smart young women are in the city, not traveling about the countryside. We'll miss you, but you will always be a part of us, and we'll come visit you when you have a family of your own."
"I will see if I can settle down with a nice Romani man. There are not many at the university, though."
"Well, just do your best and come back to us if you can," said Nikola.
"Are you planning to leave us too?" asked Marija, looking at Luna.
She looked up from her salad. "I don't know, Mama. I don't want to leave. But I do want to learn, like Stefan and Zara."
"You're already away from us so much."
"There's so much I want to see. And I need to see Uncle James sometimes too." She looked at the king. Then her eyes strayed to the prince. He gave her a bright smile; she flashed a smile back at him and then looked down at her plate.
The main course arrived—steak and potatoes. Jason cut into the steak and lifted it to his mouth. It was tangy and tender.
He looked at Tasha. "We certainly eat better this time around."
She nodded. "When we were on the run, we had to take what we could get."
"Times have changed," said Dana. "We are a more prosperous country now than we ever were under communism. Not to say we don't still have kinks to work out."
"It's your job to keep us accountable," said the king. "Especially since we don't yet have a true democracy. Something I plan to rectify. It's unconscionable that I have been so complacent as to wait so long to create one. We need full, free and fair elections within the next few months."
A murmur rippled across the table, and some of it spread to the crowd below. People looked at each other, whispered excitedly, apprehensively.
"It's a credit to your rule that we have been satisfied as a people," said Dana. "We trust you to make the right decisions for us."
"But that's the problem with absolute rule. The communists were right about that part—they just went too far the other way. When the power is in the hands of one person, the country has to rely on the benevolence of that monarch. There are no checks and balances. A constitution is the foundation of a country; without it, we could easily fall prey to a demagogue or a revolution. Even I could go the wrong way and abuse power."
"This may not be the right time, your Majesty," said a man next to him. "There is unrest in the provinces. We need a strong hand. Later, we can craft this constitution, when things have settled down."
Roderick waved one hand. "There is never a perfect time for a transition. But it must be done. We will make it as smooth as possible. I will not step down until a legitimate candidate has taken my place and transfer of power is guaranteed peacefully. Our country must enter the modern age. It's only because we're so small that we've escaped scrutiny from the rest of the world about democratic progress."
"And because of your impeccable record," said Dana. "There are no human rights abuses here. The people are happy and prosperous. It's true, few monarchs would be able to resist the temptation for corruption."
"It is only by the grace of God I have kept on the right path."
"Ironically, there are those who take issue with your faith. We're still quite a religious country, but there are more atheists and agnostics than there once were. We're becoming more diverse, and that brings the clashes of culture and race that we've been seeing lately."
"Elections may settle things down. Or they may bring to light just how divided the people are."
"We are not divided," said the man who had spoken before. He had steel gray hair and glasses. "We are happy and prosperous, as you said."
"Yes," said Dana. "But with all due respect, you are not among the people every day as I am. I look into their faces, and there is joy, but there's also suspicion and hatred simmering beneath the surface. If we're not careful, it could explode. It could even bring new revolution. Elections may bring us stability; they may fan the flame of conflict. That's just the risk we have to take."
"I see what you do not see as well," said Stefan. He leaned forward, dark curls slipping over his forehead. "I see the hatred against my people. It is getting worse, not better. My own father was hurt when he tried to intervene when gadje were attacking some of us."
"Perhaps, if the Gypsies were more integrated," said the man with the steel-gray hair, "these attacks would not happen."
"You would not allow us to be integrated. Even if we wanted to be. At the university, they stay away from us like we carry a plague." Stefan clenched his fist.
"It is not as bad as all that," said Zara. "I've made lots of friends. Maybe you should try being less adversarial."
"You see the silver lining everywhere. Even after you were attacked."
"It wasn't so bad." She brushed her cheek with her fingers, looked down.
"Two men hurt her. I wasn't there to stop them."
"Zara—I didn't know," said the king.
"We don't want to beg favoritism," said Zara. "I'm fine, really. It was in my sophomore year. The majority of students have been very welcoming."
"That is how most Muldavians are. But there are bad elements too, and it's my job to eliminate them as much as possible and protect our minorities. When I step down, there will be provisions in the constitution that will protect the Turkish, Jewish, and Romani people and give them seats in Parliament." He looked at Stefan, who nodded.
"That will take care of the common criminals," said Dana. "But there is a cancer in our society and it has deep roots, taking advantage of the unrest and the economic hardship of some."
"You're not talking about Yavesh," said a blond woman next to Sofia. "That's a fairytale."
"Most fairytales are dark and violent. But it's real and spreading. If we don't stop it, it will undo all the hard work as a country and consume us."
"You're exaggerating."
"From what I've seen, no, I'm not. There are just enough pieces to connect into a pattern. We have to destroy it before it uproots our society."
"You think it is that intertwined?" asked the king.
"It's roots are deeper than we realize. We have a lot of work to do before we can even scratch the surface. I would almost consider postponing the vote, if I were you; it might take advantage of the country's instability. It might even engineer a coup."
"I wasn't aware it had political ambitions."
"From the pattern I've seen, it wants to take over as much of the country as possible. If it can't take over like a vine rotting a tree from the inside, it will crush the state and take over completely. Like cancer, it will survive at all costs, even death of the host."
"We would appreciate any help you can give us," said Leila. "If we work together, share information, we can accomplish more than we could alone."
Dana nodded. "I'd be happy to share anything I come up with. Though I've scraped up little concrete so far."
"We have a chance to bring down Yavesh if we all work together," said Saul.
"My niece's two girls were stolen by them," said Marija. "Could you help us?"
"Yes, we will. Just give us as much information as you can. That might not only help us find the girls, but bring down Yavesh and save many more children. If you see anything suspicious, report it so we can have as clear a picture as possible. We have to find a weakness of some sort. A way to destroy their foundation. Right now, we're just going after the periphery, not the heart, the brain of it."
"If I have to fight them myself," said the king, "I will."
"Rod," said Darya, "you are not expendable."
"On the contrary, I am…or soon to be…obsolete." He smiled a little wistfully. "If the only way to save my country is to sacrifice myself, I will do it in an instant. It is…only by the grace of God that I did not sacrifice my life seventeen years ago."
"It would have been me that caught that bullet," said Jason, gratefulness rushing through him for what the king had done. He was truly a selfless man, a great leader if there ever was one.
"You saved me; I only had to return the favor. You brought me to life by connecting me to my people."
"Is there anything I can do?" asked the prince.
"It might be good for you to learn more of Muldavian affairs. If you want to, you can look at the reports, see what you can learn. And maybe you can shadow some investigations—as long as they don't go into danger."
"Thank you." He bowed his head, the circlet of a crown around his hair glinting in the light from the chandeliers.
After dessert of strawberry shortcake, an opera singer in a pearlescent silk dress stood on stage and sang a song in Muldavian. Jason lost himself in the beauty of the language, the soaring heights of the music.
"It's beautiful," whispered Connie when it was done. Jason gently brushed away the tear on her cheek. His heart ached to gather her close, but he drew away, leaving disappointment in her eyes.
After the opera singer came a rock group which caused everyone to get up and sway to the pounding of the drums and rhythm of the guitar. Finally there was a scene from a play, and this was in Muldavian too, so it was hard to follow. But it seemed like a version of Romeo and Juliet, only between a wealthy city girl and a poor country boy.
When the scene ended, everyone got up from the tables. Saul and Leila introduced them to their kids, who had black hair and dark eyes like their parents. Leila lifted little Katrina up and kissed her; the little girl laughed and Leila hugged her tight.
Connie turned away, pain in her eyes.
"Connie—" He led her away toward the wall.
"I'm okay. I'm just tired and there's so much going on and—seeing her made me think of what Jeremiah would've been like if….."
"We can go back to the palace."
"I'm okay. I want to dance." They walked to the ball room, a grand room with shimmering chandeliers with pictures of battles swirling across the floor.
He held her close as they danced. She draped her hand over his shoulder, fingers caressing the back of his neck. He gazed into her beautiful green eyes, her face perfectly framed by her cinnamon-brown hair. He kissed the bridge of her nose, unable to help it; she laughed and pressed even closer, then kissed his cheek, close to his ear. Thrills raced through him.
"My Connie," he whispered.
"My Jason." He pressed his lips to hers, savoring a slow soft kiss.
She lifted her hand, brushed his hair back from his brow. "You are more beautiful every time I look at you." She ran her hand down delicately over his scar. He closed his eyes, remembering a flash of pain, wondering how she could see any beauty in him.
"I don't want to do anything but be near you." She closed her eyes, pressed her cheek to his. They swept past the other dancers, like mirages in mist.
After about five dances, Connie said her feet hurt and they sat on a bench along the edge. He wrapped his arm around her waist, while she leaned her head on his shoulder.
Saul and Leila swirled past them, completely absorbed in each other. Dana danced past with her husband, a tall man with brown hair and intense brown eyes. She introduced him. "This is Sam."
"It's good to meet you," he said. "I would like to throw my hat in the ring, if possible. See if I can get a transfer to Internal Security, help fight Yavesh."
"You'd be a good asset to the team," said Jason, not sure what he should say, since he was just here as a freelancer.
"He would, wouldn't he?" said Dana, wrapping her arm around Sam's. She pressed close to him with a laugh, and they swept around the dance floor, blending with the other dancers including Nikola and Sofia, Stefan Senior and Marija, and the king and queen in the center, regal and graceful and perfectly in sync.
Stefan and Zara twirled past, laughing. Luna and Prince James danced slow and close, Luna's cheek against his, her eyes closed, the prince gazing at her with affection in his eyes.
"Do you think they are… together?" said Connie softly.
"I don't know. They look pretty close. I wonder if the king knows."
To Jason's surprise, Gray was on the dance floor with Tasha. He looked awkward and uncomfortable; Tasha draped her arm around his shoulder. He closed his eyes, his head bowed for a moment. Then his body relaxed and his steps moved with the rhythm of the music and he swept Tasha around the dance floor, moving elegantly. His dark suit and her red dress complemented each other, while her dark hair and his blond hair contrasted, as if they'd chosen each other as partners to maximize effect. They danced in symphony, almost as if they anticipated each other's thoughts. The next dance was faster and Jason marveled at their moves. Even the king and queen stopped and admired them, while only a few others remained on the floor. The rest watched the masters at work, while they remained oblivious to anything but each other. Jason had never known Tasha was such a great dancer, and wouldn't have suspected it of Gray, although they were both the kind that strove for excellence in all that they did. The only thing that marred their movements was Gray's slight limp. Otherwise, one would never suspect that he'd been horrifically tortured, or how broken he'd been earlier that day. It was as if he'd shed who he was and something else had emerged—similar to his old supremely confident self.
Connie leaned over as the music tapered off. "You don't think…there's something there, do you? Something between them?"
"I…don't know. I wouldn't think so, but…." For some reason, the thought disturbed him. Not jealousy of course, but even with Gray's reformed attitude, his present harmlessness, it didn't seem right that Tasha would fall for someone like him. She wasn't the kind that could ever care for a murderer….
Maybe I haven't forgiven him as much as I thought. There is this part of me that cannot trust him. Not yet.
Gray and Tasha came over and sat down beside them. Sweat sheened their skin.
"That was amazing!" said Connie.
"Thank you," said Tasha breathlessly. "I haven't danced like that in a while."
"You could dance professionally."
"Maybe we'll do that," she said wryly, looking at Gray. "How are you doing?"
"I'm all right," said Gray. "I…didn't think I could do that. Not with all these people. But somehow I was able to forget. Like it was just us two in the room. You're good at knowing just the right thing to say, to do."
"You just have to believe you can do it. Look what you just did." She touched his hand.
People were still stealing glances at them and murmuring. Gray looked away, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "I hope they did not see my limp."
"All they saw was your expertise."
He gave a sheepish smile. "I just…can't help but think they can see it, sense it, somehow. What…happened." He looked sharply at Jason and Connie, as if he thought he'd said too much. Jason had never told him that he knew the worst of what had happened, and didn't know if there'd ever be a right time to tell him.
Connie changed her blue dress for a more practical white one. While Jason waited for her outside the bathroom, he heard soft rustling around the corner. He crept down the hall and slowly turned—
Prince James had his arms around Luna's waist and was kissing her passionately. Luna swept her arms around his neck and kissed him near his ear—he laughed, gathered her lips in his once more—
Jason cleared his throat.
The teenagers whirled around, pink suffusing James' cheeks, Luna's eyes wide. "We were just—um—" James stumbled.
"I can see what you were doing." He strode up to them.
"It kinda just…happened," said Luna. "It's a good thing you showed up, because we…don't want to get too carried away."
"I don't want to keep this a secret, anyway," said the prince. "Now that I know how you feel." He wrapped his hand in hers.
"I love you, James!" She giggled.
"I love you too, Luna. I want everyone to know, especially because there's no law anymore about who I can marry."
"You're getting a little ahead of yourselves, aren't you?" said Jason.
"If I love her, there's no reason to wait."
"Well, speaking as someone who waited too long—maybe you're right. As long as you wait till you're married to…"
"We will!" said Luna.
"I know we're young," said James. "But if Mom and Dad approve…" He pulled Luna down the hall and she followed, her green dress flowing behind her as she laughed.
Connie came around the corner. "What was that all about?"
"Young love." He came up to her, grasped her hand. "It's too bad I waited so long to realize how I felt about you."
"Those years weren't wasted, because we were friends. And now …we get to catch up with all we didn't do." She caressed his face, drawing her fingers down over his jaw to his lips.
"Maybe those two had the right idea…." He turned her hand over, kissed along its edge. She drew in a sharp breath, looked up at him with sparkling eyes. He grasped her shoulders, slowly, gently pushed her against the wall. She leaned back, closed her eyes, her lips slightly parted. He admired her astonishing beauty, totally unworthy before her. She grasped the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He gathered her mouth in his, reveling in her graceful movements.
She slid her hand into his hair, ran her fingers delicately over his neck. Loosening his tie just a bit to slide against his throat. Chills raced through his body, longing for more of her bursting through him.
But he pulled away, settling for entwining his arm around hers and whispering, "You are so beautiful."
"I still can't believe I…kept myself away from you for a month."
"You were in pain. I understand—I felt a lot of it, though I can never know what it's like to …to carry a baby, and lose him." Infinite sorrow rose in his chest.
She nodded, tears sparking in her eyes. He wished he could comfort her. There was only so much he could do; he didn't want to invade her space if it was something she was working out for herself.
They headed up onto the balcony, joining the king and queen, the prince, Sofia and Nikola and their family, and Tasha and Gray.
Jason walked up to the prince. "Have you told him?"
"Well…I didn't think this was the right time…"
"There's never a right time. If you're serious about this girl—"
"I am!"
"Then—"He swept his hand toward the king.
James nodded. He stepped over to his father and mother and spoke to them; Roderick patted James on the back, and Darya hugged him. James beckoned Luna over to them. James gave Jason a thumbs-up sign.
Jason leaned back against the brick wall, Connie beside him. "It's a much different scene that it was seventeen years ago," said Jason.
"Von Warberg stood here on the balcony and gave his speech," said Tasha. "We were down there, pretending to be reporters." She laughed. "I could've done a lot better myself back then. Though I was a bit…distracted."
She gave him a meaningful look.
"Oh. By me, you mean." He felt supremely awkward.
"Don't worry. I don't have that problem anymore." She gave a small smile.
BOOM! Bright fire splashed across the sky. Two more, bright flowers of green and blue, that left puffs of smoke against the dark.
As they watched the fireworks, Jason pulled Connie close, wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm. He had long sleeves while her dress was sleeveless. Men's and women's formal fashions really weren't very fair….Good thing she took those painful looking high heels off and was standing in her bare feet. He almost got distracted from the fireworks, admiring her beautiful feet….
Afterwards, they headed to the palace in the king's limousine. The prince could hardly contain himself, now that he'd declared his love. He kept looking out the window, talking about Luna.
"She has her own family to go back to," said Roderick.
"I want to get her the most beautiful ring…"
"Maybe you should wait a while. Let your relationship grow."
"You can't know if it's the real thing yet," said Darya.
"I do! I love her."
"It's best to have a courtship period," said the king. "Perhaps a year—"
"A year!"
He smiled. "We will see. It's not like you won't see her during that time. You do have to be careful, you know—"
"I know, Dad. I don't want to hurt her."
"Good. I know how passions can get the better of you, though." He looked at Darya, who pursed her lips.
"We almost did," said Darya. "At least there is no law now, against you marrying a commoner or a Gypsy."
They stopped at the palace, shining in the dark. Connie leaned on Jason's arm, carrying her shoes while he carried the bag with her dress in it. "I'm so tired…."
He kissed her temple. "We'll get to bed right away."
She smiled wearily.
The king's cell phone rang and he picked it up as they entered the foyer. "Yes? What is it? No, she didn't come back with us. Yes, James is with us. She's not—Yes, I'll do everything I can. I know. It'll be okay, Marija. I will." He slid the phone back in his pocket.
"What is it?" said James. "Is Luna all right?"
"They don't know where she is. They thought she came back with us but….
"She's disappeared."