Posted 2024-03-31; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12

The fall weather was beginning to nip at the lingering summer days, cool evening breezes dispersing some of the afternoon heat. Bella wished the cooling weather would cool heads too, thinking of the angry crowds in Presga Esme was worrying about.

Still a ways from town, Esme had already looked back twice from the front of the wagon to where Bella and Edward sat. Without her corset, now deemed impractical, Bella's smocked dress barely disguised her pregnancy.

Small, sporadic raids from displaced northerners had been part of life in nearby Presga and more distant Pilkonis, but they'd grown from minor skirmishes to organized incursions. One of the farms had been razed, and several of its defending occupants murdered—a gruesome warning to those who refused to comply. Without the raiders in hand to punish, the townfolk's anger had turned on those who most closely resembled the attacking parties: the light bloodied.

Protests against the changes wrought by the women's movement were common, but they had been small and sporadic. Now they were larger and increasingly violent. Aside from the Pisma, who protected only the severance site and its operations, Sabellian society functioned without police forces. Order was kept by consensus and, when necessary, determination from the Matriarchs' or area council. After an angry mob tore down the stall of a too-human merchant, there had been a brief respite, but now there was a swell of violence whenever protests did occur.

Even the Matriarchs' Council had been forced to postpone the results of its inquest in Mrs. Hatzis's death. It was to the rescheduled reporting that the Cullens were heading now. Below the wagon's floorboards were the rifles usually reserved for defensive purposes. Jasper and Edward kept watch as they drove along the main road.

In principle, Bella didn't object to guns. The sight of them made her uneasy, but she understood the reason for keeping them at the ready.

Vigilantism had reared its ugly head. The day before, a trader had been found dead north of town, his too-human hands crushed, forearms rimmed with burn marks.

Esme turned back to look at her again.

Bella fluffed out her dress some more, holding her small bag in front of her stomach and fanning herself with her hat. Her gloves were slightly thicker than the hot day warranted, but they served to disguise her clawless hands. Esme nodded in approval, returning her gaze to the approaching town.

Amidst this turmoil, Bella had her own peace, not only with the protection of the Cullens, but with tranquility that came from making a decision.

She would stay.

And today was the day she would tell Edward, and then the rest of the family.

It was an odd time to offer the news, especially given the council they would attend, but it was time. She was more than halfway through her pregnancy, and her choice had not wavered since she'd made it weeks before.

As the wagon thumped over a large pothole, Edward reached over to steady her. Catching her eye, he winked, and she smiled back at him. He was her steady rock in all of this, and she felt more deeply in love with him as each day passed.

Their life together was a simple one, revolving around the town, home, and the archives. It was enough. Soon enough, that orbit would shrink to mostly home, and that too would be enough. They would have a child. Already, Alice and Jasper had made plans for their own mating. Rose and Emmett would not be far behind them.

While Bella would have to give up working at the archives for a time, Carla had assured her that they could find a way to safely transport materials for her to study at home. In a few short months, she had been able to provide insights on manuscripts that had stymied Carla and other scholars for years. Bella had even begun outlining a book covering human slave accounts from the surrounding area.

As they reached Presga, Bella watched Edward's subtle postural shift. He swept the streets with his gaze, letting it linger on the several small groups of young men. Very young men.

"They're tribute-aged," Rose murmured.

"They are." Esme eyed the group in question. "More of them than what I'd last heard about."

As they neared the assembly hall, Bella could hear the distant rumble of men's voices, some distinguished by shouts, most a low murmur. The now familiar "no place, no home" was easy enough to grasp.

"It's still some ways away. I doubt they've grown so bold as to interrupt the Matriarch's business," Esme said.

Jasper gazed down the long street, scanning the small groupings of people. Bella doubted he agreed with his mother's assessment.

Unlike the streets surrounding it, the assembly hall was sparsely populated.

"I thought there'd be more people here," Bella whispered to Edward.

"There should be." He guided her to a seat in one of the lower rows adjacent to an exit.

Across from them sat Stolos and his father, and a few rows ahead, Miss Sarris, though the woman she sat with Bella didn't recognize. Miss Sarris turned and waved at the Cullens, who waved back.

Built in a seashell spiral shape, the auditorium space formed a funnel for sounds, especially with the exterior doors left open for ventilation. The acoustics created by the pale whorl amplified the sounds of the encroaching protest.

The matriarch opened the assembly, quickly stating the brief agenda and moving almost immediately to the report on Mrs. Hatzis's death. She read rapidly, and with the report's formal and technical language, Bella could only grasp snippets of it. The conclusion, however, was clear: "We rule the death a suicide. No further inquiry is recommended."

There was an exhalation throughout the room; the relief was palpable. Bella watched Stolos and his father look down. Bella felt a stab of sympathy. The ruling had been long in coming—and no doubt painful. Her own grieving following her mother's death had been difficult enough. It hadn't been compounded by an inquiry.

"No place! No home!" The shouted voice bounced off the stone walls.

Edward whipped around, as did Jasper. Edward muttered something to his brother, who nodded.

Ahead of them, Miss Sarris had half-risen from her seat. Bella watched her lock eyes with Edward and nod, lifting her chin towards the stage.

"Bella, let's go." Edward tugged at her arm.

She rose awkwardly. The one man at the head of the stairs had turned into several. They began to chant.

Edward's tug became a yank. She stumbled slightly as he pulled her away down the exit stairs. When she glanced back, the matriarch still stood on the stage, grimly and silently facing the remaining audience and the approaching protestors.

At the exterior door, Edward paused, his hand a vice around her arm.

"Are they safe?" Bella asked, fearful of what would happen to their family.

"Safer than you. Come." He pushed open the door, moving them into a small side street where they ducked into an alcove. Edward pressed a finger to his lips while gesturing they should wait.

What for? she signed.

Help, was his response.

Bella nodded, trying to remain calm. The voices of the crowd continued from inside, and it sounded like more were coming from another direction, so when she heard a wagon, she tensed.

"Mr. Cullen?" a woman's voice hissed.

Slowly, Edward peeked around the corner and then pulled Bella with him.

Miss Sarris held the reins of two alogo, the agitated creatures stamping their feet and shaking their heads. She yanked back a canvas cover on the back of the wagon. "Quickly."

Edward helped Bella into the wagon bed, pulling the cover over her and securing it from the outside. She heard him mutter to Miss Sarris and then the wagon lurched forward. There was a swell of voices—from where, Bella couldn't tell, but they were close. She stayed down, thinking of the gruesome news about the trader Vikas had brought home that morning, then pulled up her gloves. Already warm, she began to sweat under the cover, not daring to move.

She'd felt fear before, fear of the unknown when she'd first woken in Sabellia, fear from near misses with traffic accidents, but never fear that her life was truly at risk.

Or her child's.

When Edward pulled back the canvas and hurried her inside the back of a shop, she was drenched with sweat and beginning to shiver. Against all decorum, Edward wrapped her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. "Are you well?"

"A little shaken but alright."

Miss Sarris was pulling down blinds, locking the front door, murmuring to another woman— much more pregnant than Bella—inside the store.

"Are you cold?" Edward whispered to Bella.

She nodded. Frowning, he pulled off his jacket, wrapping her in it.

"I'll make some tea," Miss Sarris announced. "Kira, you should sit down, and you as well, Mrs. Cullen."

If the impropriety of Edward's disrobing bothered either of the other women, it didn't show.

"My cousin, Mrs. Kira Lykos," Miss Sarris said to Bella and Edward.

They nodded politely at each other, exchanging the expected responses.

"You're having difficulty regulating your temperature, Mrs. Cullen?" Miss Sarris asked her.

Bella shivered. "A little, yes."

"It's more common than you'd think." She smiled. "I know because I sell so much Sidero grass tea."

Edward looked up. "It's rare, Sidero grass, at least here."

"It is, but your neighbor, Mr. Hatzis, has become quite a successful botanist. He supplies me with the sidero—that and several other plants. I've been able to expand much of what I offer because of his efforts. His work has truly blessed many lives, even if, well—his mother . . . the Solana." She sighed. "But we are not short of morbid forms of flora, certainly not in the face of a party determined to acquire it."

Edward nodded, tightening his grip on Bella's shoulders. She was grateful. Another shiver racked her.

"It's a sedative, too, sidero. But—I apologize. I like to talk about plants." Irene shrugged.

Edward smiled. "I was aware of that property as well."

"When do you expect to summon?" Mrs. Lykos asked Bella.

"Pardon?"

"How far along are you," Edward translated.

"Oh, nearly six months."

Mrs. Lykos nodded, giving a polite smile. She seemed . . . subdued. "You've not in the dark weeks yet, then."

Bella looked to Edward.

"Your speech will be a little foreign to one another, I'm afraid. My cousin comes from just north of here, and Mrs. Cullen from the south," Miss Sarris said apologetically.

Mrs. Lykos nodded. "That's where we're heading." She spoke in a flat voice. "My husband and I. We've only stayed"—she put her hands to her stomach—"well, I'd already . . . when . . ." She looked away.

Miss Sarris put her hand over her cousin's. "The Kaethe raids. They lost their home. They were lucky to leave with their lives, unlike the Benadins."

"I'm so sorry," Bella whispered.

Edward was staring somewhat impolitely at Mrs. Lykos. Bella followed his gaze to the woman's hands and mouth. Light blooded, as people would say. It didn't take much to follow his train of thought: if this is what happened to people like Mrs. Lykos, then what could happen to Bella?

Irene poured tea for all of them, which they sipped slowly.

"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with the term 'dark weeks'," Bella said to Mrs. Lykos.

"Oh, the drop, the misery, the dark weeks—there are a myriad of names, aren't there? It's my first. I hadn't thought it was quite so literal. We"—she sucked in a breath—"we were the first of our cohort."

Irene squeezed her cousin's hand.

The drop. That Bella had read about. It didn't sound pleasant. And to experience that on top of everything else that Kira had—she winced in empathy.

"And now we're the last." Kira wiped the tears from her face.

"Your husband is with you, Mrs. Lykos?" Edward asked gently.

She nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "He's making arrangements for our travel after the baby arrives. And oh, I'm sorry, Irene, Mrs. Pergren didn't come in today, so I'm not sure what her answer is." She listed the names of several customers.

"Not to worry. We still have several we can ask." Her cousin smiled, a confident and calm expression.

Bella hadn't had much chance to spend time with Miss Sarris—Irene, she corrected herself—but she liked her attitude. She could see why she and Edward had become friends. And she was proving to be one now.

"What help is it that you need?" Edward asked.

"Oh, attendants for the birth. The midwives will come, of course, but we'll need a few more hands. I've a few customers to ask yet, unless you can suggest someone in town, Mr. Cullen?"

"I was thinking my mother would be pleased to attend and, I expect, to host you and your husband, Mrs. Lykos."

She would?

Bella thought of the crowds again and Mrs. Lykos's circumstances.

Perhaps she would.

"We're south of the town, and our home is spacious." He squeezed Bella's arm. "It's been many years since our home was blessed with a birth. And meaning no offense, Miss Sarris, your home is small."

"I take no offense, Mr. Cullen. It is small, but it is enough. I was born here."

"You were," he offered quietly.

"But of course, it was not well attended."

Bella tried to puzzle out the sadness there.

Edward turned to Mrs. Lykos. "Regardless of your decision, please let me find a way to thank you and your cousin for the safety you've provided my wife with today. If our hospitality can offer you even a modicum of that, we would be happy to give it."

The sedative effects of the tea began to make themselves known for Bella, and though she did her best to stifle her yawn, Irene noticed.

"I think you should lie down, Mrs. Cullen. Sidero has a strong impact, especially the first time it's consumed."

Bella was about to wave away the offer when Edward spoke up. "I agree."

She wasn't sure if her weariness was from the tea or the fright of their escape, but she didn't have the energy to argue.

Miss Sarris led her up a narrow set of stairs to a brightly lit bedroom. "Please use my room and rest."

Bella very much wanted to, but there was something else she wanted, now that Irene was in front of her, in relative private.

"Thank you," she said, thinking, watching Miss Sarris smooth out the bedspread cover. "Irene?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you about what Edward was like . . . when he was younger?"

Irene smiled. "Much like the man he is now. Honorable. Wise. Kind. Very kind."

Bella nodded, wondering how she could nudge the conversation in the direction she wanted it to go and at the same time hating herself for doing it.

"He was the first person I felt who truly knew me. Who cared," Irene added.

Bella gave another nod, but her stomach felt tight with regret at opening this potential conversational mine field.

Irene was watching her, something of a knowing smile on her face. "But perhaps there is something else you would like to ask me?"

Had she been that obvious? Bella wondered. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "When we first met, you said he did you a great service."

Irene blinked at her and then chuckled. "I'm sorry. What a poor choice of words. You must think I am the picture of indiscretion." She shook her head. "I know I am something of a public curiosity, being an unmarried apothecary, but I am not that curious." Another chuckle. "I don't plan to ever be half of the knot in a marriage. No, Mr. Cullen did not provide me with that particular service."

Bella recovered herself, her face feeling uncomfortably warm. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"It's alright. Of course you wondered. Every married woman does when they meet another woman who knew their mate as a tribute, despite expectations."

Bella wanted very much to know what those expectations were. She'd ask Edward later.

"I didn't ask to see the tributes as most girls probably do. I didn't want the attention the tributes offered, or really, any more attention from a man; my father's criticisms were enough. It was only when our neighbor made repeated comments, saying there'd be talk if I never went, that my father insisted. That was the only thing that really mattered to him, what others thought, because weaver's threads, we might lose our business." Her tone was bitter. "So I went, angry at being sent. Several of the tributes were free that afternoon and I wondered which of them would be . . . well, I wasn't sure who to choose since I didn't even want to be there." A small smile formed. "Edw—Mr. Cullen approached me then, seeing my awkwardness and asking if I was alright. He said that I looked like someone had robbed me of my favorite sweet. He made me laugh, and then he listened to me." The smile widened. "He was the first man to do so, and he taught me that others might. He was a friend." She smiled shyly. "He kept my confidence that day and on the others that followed. My father and the neighboring gossips were satisfied, and I cannot repay him enough for the hope he gave me."

Bella wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. While she believed Edward's assurances of his love, and she had come to terms with his service as a tribute, she saw that she hadn't fully shaken off her insecurities where his friendship with Irene was concerned. After hearing the rest of the story, her relief was profound. Still, with some horror, she found herself yawning.

"Oh, you need to sleep," Irene said, "and I'm babbling."

"I'm sorry," Bella said. "It's"—she waved at her abdomen—"thank you for sharing that."

Irene moved to the door. "Well, thank you for making him happy. He deserves it."

— o — 0 — o —

The rest of the family joined them an hour later, and they crowded together in the back of Miss Sarris's shop, Esme apologizing profusely for the closing of her business and the proprietress waving away her concerns.

By the time night fell, they had packed up Mr. and Mrs. Lykos, who'd gratefully accepted the Cullens' hospitality. Irene promised to join them for the birth and to bring the herbs they'd need.

It was far later than usual when Bella was finally able to have a moment alone with Edward, finding him waiting almost anxiously for her as she entered their room. The moment they'd settled themselves into bed, he wrapped her in a tight embrace.

"Edward—"

"Give me a moment, please." He buried his face in her hair for the second time that day.

She blinked against her weariness.

"It's important, and I'm going to fall asleep pretty soon."

Behind her, he breathed into her neck. "Today, I wasn't certain I could keep you safe. And that terrified me, Bella. That crowd—those protestors." He sucked in a breath. "I want a moment to simply hold you before anything else happens."

She turned over, resting her head on his chest. "Okay."

Minutes later, he kissed the top of her head. "What is it you want to tell me?"

She hesitated. "I—I've made my decision."

The softness in his body disappeared, and she could almost sense a feeling of panic.

She pressed her body more tightly against his. "After what happened today, maybe you won't like it."

"Tell me."

"I want to stay with you, Edward."

He exhaled sharply, pulling her into a tight embrace again, making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a choked out sob. "I love you, Bella, and I will make you safe. Whatever it takes. I'll keep you and our child safe here."