Catch Your Hand [Ceri]

[Sorren Alotear Radvhet]

A little more than a week after he'd brought news of the disastrous end to the peace conference to the king and queen, Sorren arrived back in Maesser. It seemed Vaenes had done a good job holding down the fort in his absence. Things were quickly getting worse, however. Sporadic raids by ragtag bands of people from across the border were getting bolder and nearer to the city's walls. He had upped security a few times over the course of the month, and started preparing in earnest for the inevitable war. Nothing was official, of course, but you had to be a fool not to get prepared in light of the now-obvious turmoil between the two countries.

As he came in from his brisk walk in the cold, crisp morning wind, he passed the kitchen on his way up to his study. One of the cooks noticed him and came out.

"M'lord, have you heard what people are saying?" she asked.

The baron turned to face her with a quizzical look. "About what?"

"The king and queen, m'lord! There's a rumor going around they've been assassinated by Niendrans!"

The shock of such an idea hit him like a physical blow, though all that registered outwardly was the surprised expression on his face. Could that be true? Surely not! He had only been in Ingril about a month ago. But then, what did that have to do with anything? A lot could happen in a month. And if the current situation along the border was any indication, any attempt at diplomacy between the countries had clearly failed. However, it was just a rumor. He couldn't give any real weight to it at this point. If it were true, he would hear of it from someone more official soon. Still, the idea had shaken him. He tried not to let it show, however.

"Don't go spreading rumors like that. I haven't heard anything of that nature." His reprimand sounded a bit harsh, but he didn't want people talking about such things if they weren't true. It would just cause unnecessary tension. He turned and went upstairs to his study, closing the door behind him and sitting down at his desk.

Resting his elbows on the desk and running his hands through his hair, he tried in vain to keep his worries from ruining his entire thought process. Could Ceried'a really be dead? If that was the case, then... but no, he couldn't think like that! He didn't know how long he sat there, trying to keep calm and failing miserably. He rifled through books, stared into the fire, sharpened his hunting knife (and cut his finger in the process), but nothing seemed to take his mind from his dark thoughts. He almost felt like smashing something...

[Ceried'a Itonris Sa'achern]

"Mother...if you leave now I can protect you, but if you refuse to go I'll have no choice..." The hand gripped her wrist as she sat alone in her bedroom with her eldest son. She'd forgotten how strong her son had become as she stared up at him.

"You can't do this! I am your mother! I am the Queen of this country."

"That man is dead, he's been dead for a long time now mother. I am asking you now to let him vanish and give me the right that was mine months ago. It is the only thing I ever wanted from that man, and I'm begging you to give this to me now." The grip tightened until she gave a small hiss, the painful noise making the young man release the woman quickly.

"How did you--?"

"I've known for a while now. In order to protect you I need you both gone. Do this and I swear I'll do right by our family name. I'll be better than the man that helped create me. You've been a good ruler, but this is not yours to rule. If you stay you will die, and that is not a choice I get to make sadly."

The conversation had invaded her dreams every night since she'd first begun her journey. Of her son's stern eyes staring down at her demanding that she run away from crown and country or else her death. After spending so many years fighting for the security and freedom that her position allowed once more she found herself reeling. This was only one of two pieces of news that had left her feeling so confused and loss, and what she'd hoped for to be a quiet change of power had resulted in the rapid rumor that she, the Queen of Carthonia, along with her loving husband had been found dead in their rooms, the result of an Neindrian assassin.

The morning she'd woken up to that same dream, before rushing off to a covered area of forest as her stomach emptied itself of the food she'd had the night before. She had to be imagining things...it seemed too sudden for it to happen, but already she was several days late, just a week after Sorren had left had her stomach begun to pattern, but before she'd gone to a healer she'd been dragged out to the stables while the palace slept, ordered by her son to dress as a male, binding her chest down as she used the rest of her magic to cover the curve of hips. She'd not even been granted the right to kiss her other two children goodbye.

"Do not tell me where you are going, and do not send word unless you fear you will be captured and hurt. Stay in Carthonia, travel only to the Isle to pray if the need arises...you will know when it is safe to comeback."

The boy she'd raised from an infant, her first born, now sent her away only knowing that she'd lied of her husband's existence and knowing only of that truth and not about the one that had nearly made her beg to stay with them. Just within sight of Maesser the Queen disguised as a young messenger boy wiped tears from her eyes. How painful it was to lose her family the cryptic words of her eldest leaving her confused as to what had happened that now had forced her to run. She could not go home to her own family, and so the only person she could trust not to betray her was the very man she'd needed to talk to since he'd left. Ceried'a prayed he was there.

Getting to the gates she rode through, her loyal steed treading slowly as she feared harming herself by racing too face. No with so much loss she dare not think if she could deal with that...

"I come from the royal family! I have a message for the Baron Radvhet from the newly crown King!" She called out as she saw one of the men rush away before she was let in through the gate riding towards the house where she left her horse to be attended by the servants there as she started inside. She prayed that she'd gotten here ahead of the news, but by way of her travels she'd realized that rumor was always faster then even a single rider with barely a heavy load.

[Sorren Alotear Radvhet]

Sorren was almost glad for the interruption when it finally came in the form of someone knocking on the study door. Whoever it was didn't wait for him to answer before letting themselves in, however, and so found the baron with his forehead on the desk. He looked up quickly in obvious irritation at this transgression. The guard in the doorway ducked his head, cowed by Sorren's expression and not quite daring to meet his eyes as he relayed the information he had come to deliver.

"A messenger has arrived, sir, bearing news from the... newly-crowned king?" the guard said, the sentence ending on a questioning lilt.

His insides felt like they turned to ice. He could barely believe his own ears. A new king? So the rumor was true. Standing abruptly at his desk, he had to stop himself from grabbing something and flinging it at the guard. That was no way to react, and besides, no one knew about himself and the queen, so it would only look all the more inappropriate if he suddenly went crazy. He took a moment to regain his composure before he spoke.

"Please bring him here," he said, not quite able to keep a slight growl out of his voice.

When the man had gone, Sorren took to pacing in front of the window, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. It was possible that the messenger was coming to dispel the rumor, wasn't it? He much preferred to think that that was the case. But if it wasn't, and Ceried'a was dead... Gods, he didn't know if he could deal with that. He ran a hand through his hair in agitation, thinking it was taking the messenger far too long to get to his study. His mind was going in a million directions at once. What would he do if it was true? Would he be able to hold himself together? It would be unseemly for him to fall to pieces at a messenger's feet. Maybe he should have let Vaenes take over the responsibilities as baron of Maesser. But that still wouldn't make his reaction to this news any less confusing for people.

Oh, what was he thinking, anyway? Nothing seemed to make much sense at the moment. It was as if his whole world was crumbling apart. He had to stay strong, for his people, for his sons, for the whole damn country that was about to go to war. He would deal with it as best he could. He only hoped that would be enough.

"Nero, give me strength..." he whispered.

[Ceried'a Itonris Sa'achern]

The most difficult part about masquerading as a boy was that the illusion required more physical restraints, her hair pulled up into a tight bun on her head, chest bound down though when before she'd done it there was not much pain her body was experiencing a new sensitivity to the pressure. The clothes still clung to her, and even as her body itched to be released from the illusion but she dare not do it now in front of any of the guards who escorted her up the stairs towards the study she'd come to once before.

Then that had been a game, but now, now this had more dangerous stakes. It was why she was forced to hide as a boy, if anyone searching figured out she may not be dead would be looking for a woman riding alone bearing no identifier...a royal messenger, a boy especially would not be suspected to be the Queen of Carthonia. She had to believe that her son was doing something good, but she still feared what news might reach her from the capitol.

Fingers gripped the course blue tunic, the heavy wool made for these colder trips, the thick leggings. Her only weapon was a small dagger at her belt, all the money she had was in a pouch resting against her other hip. Though she'd been given a notice that she could take from the royal treasuries around Carthonia as needed the woman did not wish to simply take from her own country while she ran and stayed in hiding. However where would she live? How would she survive? Some part of her hoped beyond anything that Sorren would let her stay with him, but she feared of putting him and his family in danger...and what of when she finally told him the truth of her husband?

It hurt her to think that the man she loved would cast her out in anger, but after he had trusted her so much with his own past how betrayed would he feel to learn the man he was loyal too was long dead? What of her other news as well...what would a man of honorable standing like Sorren think of the treasure she guarded so preciously, that had made her agree to run?

She'd become lost in her thoughts until she heard her introduction to the Baron, the doors opening before her as she was ushered in. Slowly she inched in, suddenly feeling her heart grow heavy, chest becoming tighter as she saw her lover. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to run to him, hold him tightly until the nightmare the past week had been was out of her thoughts, but she resisted as she removed her cap, not use to seeing the short blond strands of hair fall in front of her eyes as Ceried'a dipped her head in respect.

"Baron Radvhet...I come bearing news from the capitol by order of the New King. However I was ordered to deliver it in private, only to you." She looked around at all the other men already hearing whispers of the rumor she prayed to get ahead of before her gaze settled on Sorren once more.

"My Lord..."

[Sorren Alotear Radvhet]

The baron was nearing the point of going out to get the messenger himself by the time he heard the announcement that he had arrived, though he had really not been waiting that long. He turned to face them as guards escorted the young messenger in. The boy looked a little scared, or at least that's what Sorren thought. Was it due to the nature of the news he brought, or because of the likely less-than-welcoming expression on the baron's face? Well, he couldn't help either of those things.

"Baron Radvhet...I come bearing news from the capitol by order of the New King. However I was ordered to deliver it in private, only to you." The messenger boy looked around, obviously wary of the little crowd that had gathered outside the baron's study. They were already beginning to whisper, speculation running rampant. "My Lord..."

"Of course," he agreed gruffly, walking to the door and giving everyone gathered outside a disapproving glare. "I'm sure you all have other things to be doing right now than standing around perpetuating idle gossip." To the guards, he said, "I will come get you if I need you." That was more than most of them needed to clear off. Once he was sure they weren't straggling around the halls just to come back and eavesdrop through the door, he went back in the room and closed the door behind him.

Almost immediately with the sound of the door closing, Sorren felt what seemed like the weight of the world crash down on his shoulders. He ran his hand through his hair again, unable to keep the tension from showing. He had trained to hide his emotions well, and indeed it was nearly impossible to know of his inner turmoil at that moment, but there were small signs of it that would show to those who knew him best. Of course, none of those people were here right now... or so he thought.

"So, I presume you are here to either confirm or deny these rumors of the king and queen's assassination?" he asked. He felt sick just saying the words, but he fought to keep his composure. Whether or not he would be able to keep it together when the messenger answered him, well, that was another matter entirely.

[Ceried'a Itonris Sa'achern]

He looked troubled, his expression so stern that Ceried'a wanted nothing more than to kiss away the tension in his brow. He gruff tone towards those that slowly filed out surprised her as she watched them leave one by one until she was once again left alone with just the Baron.

The times they'd been given these precious moments alone before often were filled with passionate embraces, hours talking of lives as if they only had those moments to know them all. His time at her palace they'd spent what few days they'd had together sneaking around like adolescents instead of the nobles they were, but now there was no time for heated kisses and whispers of affection as the door shut behind her as she was left in a skin that was not her own facing a man who did not look like her gentle Baron Radvhet.

Her attentions perked up as he asked about her reason for coming here, instinctively one arm moved to cross over her stomach protectively as she bowed her head. "I am not sure how to tell you this my lord." Her voice was not so easily controlled as tear already threatened to rise up. How did one start in on telling a person they cared about of what happened...perhaps her son had feared traitors...and if she were to reveal herself to suddenly...

The though made her body go numb for a moment at the implication that even Sorren could be a traitor. No, she could not believe it, but she knew the dangers of just dropping out of her illusion now if she did not wait to give the news. Still Ceried'a would not believe that her beloved, the loyal man he was to her illusion of a king, would ever betray her.

"The change of power has not come at the most peaceful terms, and I would be lying if I said the rumors were not completely true my dear Baron. The Crown Prince has taken the throne as King of Carthonia...at a heavy price." It was so hard to breath with the bindings, she felt as if she would faint right there as she tried her best to ease her breathing. She wanted to sit, wanted to rest. Already she began to feel sick once more.

Not now! She forced her body to behave and be strong and not become some weak feminine creature in a moment where she needed to be strongest.

[Sorren Alotear Radvhet]

"I am not sure how to tell you this my lord."

No, those were not the words he wanted to hear. The messenger's next words barely registered in his mind as he turned toward his desk and collapsed into the chair, all the feeling having gone out of his legs. To the boy, it would seem that the baron was simply devastated at hearing that his monarchs had been assassinated, and while that was partly true, it was so much more than that. Oh, so much more.

Something got through to him, though. Had the boy said 'my dear baron'? Surely not. He must be going out of his mind. He put his elbows on the desk and sat forward, resting his palms on his temples with his fingers in his hair and closing his eyes. Dear gods, this must be what it felt like to go insane. How could he ever live another day without Ceried'a? He had gone through this pain before, and he had never thought he would have to go through it again. He didn't think he could do it a second time. Not Ceri, anyone but his Ceri, destroy the whole world but leave her alone. If he could just hold her one more time, he would never, never let go, no matter if Nero himself tried to strike him down.

Why had he even left Ingril? He knew it was dangerous, what with the old wounds the botched peace conference had opened. He should have known Niendra would attempt something like this, should have insisted upon staying and protecting the queen himself. But no, he couldn't have done that, it would have raised too many questions. Damn the world and its stupid rules! If he had known, if only he had known... but there was nothing he could have done to prevent it, short of ruining any chance they had to be together. And yet, maybe that would have been worth it. Would he have had the strength to break off their relationship, if it meant saving her life? It was too late to know now.

Slowly he came to realization that the messenger boy was still standing there. Passing a hand over his face while he blinked back the hot tears that stung behind his eyes, he sat up with a heavy sigh and looked up at the boy. He meant to say something, but he could find no words. He was afraid that if he spoke, all the emotions he was feeling would burst forth, and from the look of the boy he would only frighten him. The silence was uncomfortable, but there was nothing to be said. What did one say in the face of such news?

[Ceried'a Itonris Sa'achern]

Ceried'a would be patient, she would watch and observe and try as she might...she would act like a soldier she was never meant to be. It was hard though being left along like this when every instinct said the mood, the expressions, the words should be different....

Slowly she started forward as his head was bowed at his desk, wondering just what face it was he was making. Her boots falling softly on the carpeted floor before he suddenly looked up at her. She took a startled step back, just out of instinct, letting getting to close to an injured and cornered creature that could possibly lash out and hurt the person after it...even if only to comfort it. Standing there she could feel her body tremble just a little from the fear that whatever happened next could have her thrown from the very arms she'd come running to.

"My Lord..." She'd been a mother long enough to know when one of her sons had been holding back tears for fear of reprimand that even Sorren could not hide it from her as she closed the rest of the distance between them, falling to her knees as she took his hands. No, she would not let herself be the cause of pain for the one she loved even though now, no doubt, her youngest children were weeping over false stories.

"Please don't weep over the lost the King, he was a false King. I myself was simply a false Queen at that." Slowly the illusion faded, golden hair darkening as the squared jaw softened, blue eyes turning back to their dark rich brown, "For the sake of Carthonia though you must believe that your Queen is dead Sorren. Your sons and your house must pledge itself to the new King and pray that he will bring our home to peace." She gripped his hands tightly in her own as she bowed her head, touching her forehead to his knees as if waiting for some final blow from a blade.

"I am sorry Sorren to come to you like this." As tears rolled down her shoulders shook with the sobs that wanted to escape, but the bindings were so tight they only made her dizzy as she tried to gulp in a breath to simply speak, "I may as well dead...for all sins that have cast me out of my own home, and now I bring them to only darken your own house."

[Sorren Alotear Radvhet]

He looked away when the messenger addressed him, holding up a hand as if to keep him from speaking further. "I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me," he said, his voice husky as he tried to keep his emotions under control. But then suddenly the boy was in front of him on his knees, taking his hands in his. What familiarity from a mere messenger boy! The shock of such a bold move showed plainly on Sorren's face, especially as he heard what the boy had to say. And how strange, that he should have Ceried'a's voice. He really must be losing his mind, after all.

But wait... as he spoke, the messenger took on a form more like the queen's, transforming in front of his eyes into the one person he wished so much to see. Could it be true? Her eyes, her face, her hair, the feel of her hands in his. He did not understand what was happening, but some part of him dared to hope that this was not some figment of his imagination.

An illusion... could it have been an illusion, the messenger boy? She had come to him once before disguised as a servant, though not nearly as convincingly as this. Of course, if everyone believed her dead, it would be dangerous for her to show her true form. Some of the meaning of what she said sank into his brain, though it was still difficult for him to comprehend. She had been cast out of Ingril, and she wanted him to perpetuate the idea that she was dead. It didn't make sense to him, but for the moment that was besides the point. She was alive, and she was here with him, right now.

"Ceried'a," he whispered, pulling her with him by the hands as he stood to hug her close, tears rolling down his cheeks to settle in his beard. "It's really you. Oh gods, you're really here." There were questions to ask, yes, so many questions, but for the moment he wanted only to hold her and know that she was not dead.

[Ceried'a Itonris Sa'achern]

The last thing that anyone with their lover would expect would be to feel a blade to slip in between the bones of their neck. Then again didn't death at the hands of someone they love be so much more gentle then by the hands of a stranger who cared little of how much pain they caused? How could she tell him that his king had died so long ago and that whatever shame he'd felt for their affair was guilt that she'd let him feel for her own selfish needs of power? Now she had no power, and he had all of it. Would he kill her? That seemed the kindest thing to do wasn't it?

Still...to hear her name whispered by him she slowly looked up at him, lips parting to say more before suddenly she was being pulled up. The already tight feeling in her chest being compounded as arms wrapped around her even further. They were warm compared to the cold days and nights she'd spent riding all the way here, and despite the pain she could only relish this touch as her own hands scrambled to find their holds around him as if at any moment she'd be sent away.

"Sorren...Sorren..." She murmured over and over again against his shoulder, "I thought I would get here sooner, but I couldn't take any of the main roads even with my disguise. Since the Peace Conference failed I've been having them checking passes through the cities and even with what he gave me I didn't want to raise suspicions with news of what happened." She breathed in his scent, felt his warmth, and for the first time in days she felt truly safe if only for a moment.

"I'm sorry...please forgive me Sorren." Ceried'a whispered as she began to pull away from the Baron even though leaving his side was the last thing she wanted to do, "I'm sorry for deceiving you like this. It was never my intention to do this to you, but I had no choice for the safety of my kingdom. I had to do it this way." Her voice only seemed to grow softer even as she saw the tears the other wept. Lifting her hand to his cheek she brushed a few away.

"To think the rumors raced even faster then me to get here. The world must be hungry for blood."

[Sorren Alotear Radvhet]

His name on her lips, the scent of her hair, the solid feeling of her warm body in his arms after thinking he would never get to see or hear or touch her again were the most exquisite things in the world. Honestly, he could have cared less that she had come in disguise. He didn't know the reason yet, but he knew that if she wanted to keep this rumor circulating there must be a good one. However, he was surprised she had the power of illusion. She had never told him that. Still, it didn't matter that much to him. Certainly not enough that she should be apologizing and worrying so much over it.

"I don't care. There's nothing to forgive," he said with a weak smile. "You're here and you're safe, that's all that matters to me right now."

Something was wrong, though. She still seemed so tense. Of course, whatever circumstances had caused her to have to fake her own death and flee must have been dire indeed. But what on earth could they be? He was almost reluctant to ask. He didn't want to have to think about that kind of thing, so soon after seeing her again. But he knew it was important.

"Rumors travel fast, especially when they involve the royal family. But I don't understand. What brought this on? Why did you have to do this? You know I would do anything in my power to protect you. Or the king."

He added that last bit a little guiltily. He was so glad to know that she was alive, but he didn't know about the king. Was he in hiding somewhere, too? Or had he been killed in earnest? He kept his eyes on Ceried'a as his mind raced through the possibilities, but suddenly he noticed that she seemed unsteady somehow.

"Are you all right? You look pale. Maybe you should sit down," he said, concern evident on his face, as he moved out of the way of his chair so she could take a seat. Perhaps all this was getting to her. Certainly it had been a tumultuous morning for him, but she had been carrying this news from Ingril, making her sick with worry. He cursed himself inwardly for not noticing it sooner.

[Ceried'a Itonris Sa'achern]

Oh god, his words...they were everything she ever wanted to hear, if only he would say that after she finally told him the truth to why she was running. Her son had known and forgiven her though, he could look her in the eye and tell her that he loved her enough to ask her to run for her life instead of wait for some assassin to really come. He had loved her enough to forgive, would Sorren? Even as he said he would she felt relieved and yet stricken.

"I'm glad to see that you are safe as well. I tried to beat the rumors here. I never meant for you to hear them from anyone else but me." She returned to his embrace, resting her head against his shoulder. "So much has happened since you left I'm not sure where to start. It was only a few days ago. My son he came to me and he told me to leave and...and I ran to the only place I knew I could go."

Her voice trailed off slowly as Sorren mentioned her pallor before. Already she was out of breath, lips parted to drag in more air. She smiled softly, fingers going to the laces at the top of her shirt as she loosened them the top of the bindings she wore peaking through, "It's hard to talk too much with this." One hand slipped behind her as she moved to sit, loosening the knot at the back that held the binding on before she let is slip back around to press to the flat plain of her stomach as if she would already be able to feel the heartbeat forming there, "Also as it stands with my health it is hard to ride so hard and for so long."

It felt good to sit down in a warm room, safe finally, "I have to ask you to keep my presence here a secret Sorren. To the rest of the world I have to be dead to them. Only you and my eldest can know the truth." She whispered looking up at him, her gaze begging for him to understand, so desperate to tell him so much more. "I'm so sorry to ask this of you."

[Sorren Alotear Radvhet]

So her son had told her to leave. She must have been in some kind of danger, then, surely. The idea that there might be a traitor so close to the royal family sent a chill down his spine. If that was the case, he would personally hunt whoever it was down and kill them. How dare anyone presume to make threats on the queen's life! Of course, he didn't know that that's what had happened yet, so he quieted the thought.

As she loosened her tunic and mentioned it being hard to talk, he smirked at her. Of course, he should have realized she had bound herself, to make her illusion of being a boy appear more real. He had to admit, it had certainly worked. Her illusion had been masterful. He wondered just how powerful of an illusionist she was, and if she had ever used her magic in front of him. The way she did it, he wasn't sure if he would have been able to tell. But then, maybe it wasn't something she used very often. He himself rarely used his power of persuasion, after all. It had its uses when he was trying to get information out of prisoners and spies, but other than that, well, he preferred not to mess with people's minds.

The reference to her health was a little alarming. Was there something wrong with her? But before he could ask, she was telling him that he must keep this all a secret, that no one could know she was alive. He would have to pretend the messenger had indeed come with news of the king and queen's death, and the succession of the prince to the throne. He knelt before her and nodded, taking her hands in his and looking into her eyes.

"Of course. I will tell my household that the messenger came to confirm the rumor, and that we have a new king. I will support your son's rise to the throne, as I would have done whether you had asked me or not. But I don't understand why this has happened. Did someone threaten you? And what do you mean 'your health'? Are you sick?" His voice sounded more urgent about the last question than the rest.

[Ceried'a Itonris Sa'achern]

The clothes were meant for an adolescent boy, and even with the bindings loose the shirt clung tightly to her form a little uncomfortably. Still she was thankful to be out of them for the time being able to take in a full breath and not worrying about anyone walking in to see her like this. What would be said though if it was discovered that the "dead" Queen was in fact the one bearing the message for the Baron of the house? If the situation was different then perhaps she'd find it a bit more amusing, but even so what circumstances such as this could be considered?

"I'm so sorry to trouble you to do this for me, but thank you. I'm sure my child will thrive with the support of you and your house Sorren. I can only hope he will be a good King for Carthonia. I fear though that war now is sure to come, and though I would love to see Neindra fall I did not think that this..." Stopping she sighed, Sorren's concern touching as she once more took his hands in her own holding them.

"I wish I cold explain why this all has happened, but I fear that I am just as much in the dark about this as you are. I can only assume he knew that a threat was there that wished to harm me. I can only hope that this is only temporary." Slowly she bowed her head, lifting his hands as she let her lips brush over his knuckles. The simple pleasure of being here, or touching him and hearing his voice was almost too much after what seemed like a nightmare.

When the Baron asked about her health she almost laughed, but held it back as once more her stomach grew tight from both nerves and sickness. "Not so much sick...though I have been that. It was the other reason I came here to run. Not even my own children know this yet, and I can only imagine what someone else would do if they knew." Looking up at Sorren she released one of his hands as her fingers moved up to touch his chin.

"I'm not asking you to make me your responsibility, but if this child comes into this world I at least think they should know their father. You have your heirs, and I ask nothing of you except to be kind. I did not think that I would be blessed in the middle of this nightmare..."

[Sorren Alotear Radvhet]

War. It did always seem to come back to that, didn't it? He couldn't say he was against it, though. He had his reasons for wanting to see Niendra suffer, especially after watching their efforts at the peace conference collapse so easily into chaos. He was convinced that if they had really been for peace, things would not have escalated to violence so quickly. And now, with the Carthonian monarchs "assassinated," he felt an itch for revenge. For who else but Niendra would have been responsible for turning someone so close to the queen into a traitor? That was how he saw it.

Sorren smiled as Ceried'a kissed his hand, the gesture nearly making him forget everything. How lucky he was to have her in his life, this beautiful woman who understood him so well. The thought that he could have lost her forever was almost too much. As she mentioned yet another secret that even her children didn't know about, he could not keep the worry from showing plainly on his face. The feel of her fingertips against his chin was both comforting and perplexing. What could be so important that she would be willing to hide it from everyone?

It took a minute for her words to sink in. He was literally speechless. It was as if his mind froze for a second. Had he really heard her correctly? She was carrying a child... and it was his? He didn't think it was possible to feel so many emotions at once--happiness, fear, confusion, concern... His lips parted as he thought he might say something, but he didn't. Much as he loved his adopted sons, he had always wanted a child of his own. Then a thought struck him. What about the king? It could just as easily be his, couldn't it? He looked away, guilt making him unable to meet her eyes.

"Are you sure it..." he swallowed, unable to finish that question, and tried a different one, "What of the king?"