The Dove and the Hawk Pt. 09

Many thanks to my advance readers, including Not_E and happyyy_, as well as to my editor LaRascasse.

Content warning: references to sexual assault, references to bodily mutilation

***

Litheian walked down the long stone hall, pausing as the walls gave way to the open courtyard, the summer sun shining down on the carefully tended garden on the ground floor. The royal palace in Kiridas was full of such small wonders, balancing the need for light and warmth in the lowland plains of Anderar. She smiled, seeing that the irises were blooming, their creamy heads rising above darker folded-down petals.

Across the courtyard, she saw Idano going in the opposite direction. Catching sight of her, he walked towards where she stood, flanked by her attendants.

"Il-hanaa," he said, bowing low.

"Il-sushvyan," she replied. "What brings you to the palace today?"

His brows arched subtly in surprise. "The Council convened a meeting. I thought you were headed there yourself, il-hanaa."

She frowned. Why would Anderar's Council be meeting without her?

"It is good that we met, then," she replied cooly, nodding politely by way of farewell, and he bowed again.

Picking up her skirts, Litheian headed purposefully for the Council room. She would lecture her advisers later for failing to inform her. Nearing the double doors to the hall, she waved for them to be opened, and the great oiled hinges swung silently.

"-- not a matter for discussion!" Bethaer was saying as she entered.

The Council elders in their seats nodded to her and she returned the gesture, setting her eyes on her husband's standing figure at the end of the table. He was flustered and frustrated, so unlike his usual demeanor when dealing with matters of state.

"I apologize for interrupting, il-rathshaen," she said quietly, though the words carried in the silent hall. "I was only just informed of this meeting."

She glanced at her husband, who was shifting guiltily from foot to foot. The lords and ladies of the Council likewise avoided her gaze, and she fought to calm the sudden anger that rose in her blood. There were few times she was treated as less than her husband's equal, but when it happened she had to rake over the coals of her fury so that her temper simmered instead of boiling.

Sedately she went to sit by her husband's side, clasping her hands together as she turned to the most senior council member, Fatan. He had only recently returned from his year at the high court, serving on the High Council. He eyed her, his face unreadable.

"I would hear what matter the Council wishes to discuss," she said, ignoring her husband's gaze. He was trying to catch her eye, no doubt to dissuade her from insisting on the subject. That made her want to know all the more.

Fatan glanced about the table, as if to see if anyone else would speak first. When no one did, he sighed. "For the future and security of Anderar, it is imperative that you bear more children, il-hanaa."

Beside her, Bethaer bristled. She reached out a hand to him without looking, a small warning not to interfere.

"Our daughter is to inherit the throne when she comes of age," Litheian reminded them, voice low. If the Council thought they could deprive her child of her rightful place, she would not hesitate to show them her wrath.

"We do not dispute the judgment of the High Council," Fatan assured her. "But your position would be more secure with multiple potential heirs if -- gods forbid -- some calamity should strike the royal family."

"Losing your queen would also be a great calamity," Bethaer all but growled.

Another elder spoke up, a woman named Kilda. "We have confirmed with the court midwife that her majesty is healthy enough to bear a second child, as she has already informed you, il-hanaa."

"And as I have already told you," Bethaer snapped, "This is a private matter that should remain free of the court's interference."

"If House Andertha had even one other remaining member, then I would agree, il-hanaan," Kilda replied. "But you are the last surviving male descendant of Anderan. To pull a successor from another branch of his family would upset the balance we have only just reestablished these past few years."

Out of the corner of her eye, Litheian could see Bethaer gritting his teeth, and she pulled back her hand with a sigh.

"We have heard your concerns and we will consider your wise counsel," she said firmly. "But my husband is also correct. This is a private matter we must discuss between us first."

"Very well," Fatan said. "We await your decision, ilen-hanaen."

Litheian nodded politely and stood, sweeping out of the hall without waiting for her husband to join her. He must have deliberately withheld knowledge of their meeting from her, not wanting her to face a room full of elders pressuring her to submit her body once more to what was necessary to conceive a child. Well-meaning but overstepping nonetheless.

She was striding down the corridor, her attendants scurrying behind her, when she heard the commotion in the great hall. Frowning, she made for the giant, airy room, which was filling with subjects in preparation for when she and Bethaer would hold court that afternoon. Only the first twenty citizens could be admitted without referral from their provincial governors, and one man had arrived too late to earn a spot.

"Come back tomorrow!" the guard shouted, directing him back into the crowd.

"But I've traveled for weeks!" the man protested.

"Then you should have lined up sooner!" admonished another man. "I slept by the gate all night for my place!"

"You don't understand!" the man shouted.

Litheian turned to go, but not quickly enough.

"Il-hanaa!" the man cried out. "I beg of you, render your judgment!"

She forced her hands, which had balled into fists, to loosen and rest at her side. A knot of dread was forming in her stomach, for she'd heard this plea before.

Turning to face the door, she lifted her skirts and walked imperiously down the hall, past the line of waiting subjects. The man knelt on the floor as she approached, solidifying her suspicion. All around them the courtiers and citizens held their breaths.

"Your queen hears your desperation," she said, voice steady despite the cold feeling in her bones. "I shall hear your plea directly."

"Do not forgive me, il-hanaa," the man pleaded, face to the floor.

She swallowed. "Do you come to confess a crime?"

"I do," the man answered, and the crowd began to whisper and writhe in anticipation.

Litheian held up a hand, and the great hall went silent.

"Confess," she told him, dreading his words.

"I committed a most terrible crime against you, il-hanaa," he declared. "I dared to harm your person while you were with child. Please, render your judgment against me."

"Show your face," she commanded, and he lifted his head.

Litheian flinched. Seeing the recognition in her eyes, the man put his head to the ground once more. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, her heart beating faster with fear and fury. This was the last man who'd used her before Olandrion consigned her to the rashd.

"Why come forward now?" she demanded. "You could have lived out your days with none the wiser."

"I could not bear the guilt of my sin," he replied. "So please, il-hanaa, give me a criminal's death."

She curled her lip at him. If he were so desperate to die, why had he not thrown himself in the Taiber River and spared her the sight of his face, the memories of his presence?

"You shall not have it," she told him, voice cold. Bethaer had executed the last man who came forward, and she had merely stood by. But for her, death was too lenient.

"You shall be branded," she announced, "and your manhood cut from your body. But you shall keep your hands, for you will need them in the mines."

The crowd pulsed, people nodding and murmuring to each other. She turned away from the cowering man as he was hauled away, not stopping until she met her husband in the doorway.

She halted, tense and trembling, staring straight ahead. "I shall not attend court today," she said flatly, and he nodded silently.

He moved aside to let her pass and she hastened toward the royal apartments. Only after her chamber door shut behind her did she allow herself to breathe, her exhales coming out as sobs. She crumpled to the floor as Lisse ran to her, cries wracking her body.

***

Bethaer sat alone through the complaints of the nobles and commoners, calling an early end once the urgent matters had been seen to. He stalked down the hallways with a scowl, servants and courtiers alike giving him a wide berth. When he reached the training grounds, he threw off his jacket, reaching for a sword before his attendants could bring forth his personal weapons.

The guards held back until the captain of the queen's guard himself walked out into the yard to meet his challenge. They would have all heard by now, he knew, and their trepidation was warranted. The last time a former soldier had voluntarily confessed to raping Anderar's now-queen, he'd nearly maimed an opponent in his fury. But the captain was better at a sword than him, and they sparred until the evening.

Bethaer called for a bath before dining with the rest of court, where his advisers only nodded politely, leaving him to brood alone. He nursed his wine, knowing his wife would be waiting for him tonight, after he'd gone around her in meeting with the Council. He'd been ready to face her ire, but not like this.

He entered his chamber warily. Litheian sat at the edge of his bed, her face pale and drawn. He could tell she'd been weeping, for her eyes were red and puffy even in the dim lamplight. He felt the urge to comfort her but knew this would only make her angrier. She was not here tonight to join him in bed and hold him tight, as she did when her nightmares plagued her and only his sleeping form could keep them at bay.

She didn't turn to look at him as he walked over, nor when he sat heavily by her side.

"I should not have hidden the matter from you, im-uvnya," he said.

"The elders are right," came her reply. "It has been three years."

"Our daughter is healthy and strong," he argued quietly.

"And young," she reminded him. "Without any father's kin to back her claim."

She was right; he knew she was. And yet. "The elders will heed the word of the High Council. The people will not forget why the throne is hers to inherit."

Litheian shook her head. "People forget easily."

He turned to face her. "How can you say such a thing? Even today --" He broke off, not wanting to speak the words in her presence. He swallowed hard. "Even if they do forget, even if the Council cares not to remember, I do. I can never forget, im-uvnya."

"Is that why you tried to shield me from their demands today?" Her tone was cool and distant.

"I know what you dream of," he replied softly. "I hear your cries as you sleep. How could I let you hear such a thing from the mouths of those who have not had to hold you, trembling in the night?"

"The midwife says I am healthy," she countered.

"And what of your heart?" he demanded, gritting his teeth in frustration at her stubbornness. Why did she always push herself so, put herself last among her concerns?

"What of it?" she replied hotly. "Do you think I am too weak to bear the cost of conceiving another child?"

"If you will not think of yourself, then think of me!" he shouted. "How can you ask me to touch you in that way, when --"

"How dare you," she snarled, standing stiffly, "compare your fears with my suffering. I have never flinched from your touch, im-uvnyan."

"But I have hurt you," he retorted, standing to meet her dark gaze.

"Once," she hissed, "in all the three times we ever lay together, and only because of your father."

Bethaer recoiled. "Is that what you regret most, my queen? All of this is because of my father!" He swept his hands in a wide arc, over the screens and the bed and the balcony overlooking the city, twinkling in the dark.

Litheian did not speak for a long moment. "How can you think so little of me?" she asked, her voice low.

The hairs on his arms prickled, and he shifted his stance. She reminded him of a venomous snake he had encountered once, coiled and still with fury. "I think everything of you," he replied softly, trying to walk back the heaviness in the air.

"You think I gave up everything," she said.

His mouth worked but no sound came out. He could find no words to counter her assertion, none that wouldn't be lies.

"I am so tired of your pity, im-uvnyan," she sighed, and then walked out.

He stood there, frozen by her accusation as surely as though she had driven a stake through his heart into the cold earth.

They had never raised their voices to each other before today, and he regretted being the first to do so. He regretted so much.

Bethaer collapsed onto his cold, empty bed. The emotional rigors of the day felt crushing on his mind, and he couldn't think. Better to sleep first, he told himself. Tomorrow he would apologize to his wife.

But he never had the chance. When he awoke the sun was low in the sky, the pounding on his door insistent. Blearily he rose and opened it to find the chamberlain, dressed as he had been the night before.

"Do you ever sleep, man?" Bethaer mumbled, still sleep-addled.

"Her majesty left with the dawn," the adviser replied, and he was instantly awake.

"Left where?" he demanded. Sometimes she went on rides to clear her head, but this had never been a matter to wake him for before. Was she hurt? Had she disappeared?

"The servants were up all night packing her belongings," the chamberlain replied.

"And no one thought to inform me?"

"I was balancing accounts, and everyone else was asleep. I only discovered she had left when I came down to sleep myself."

Bethaer paused at his frantic efforts to dress himself, his guts twisting with dread. "Where did she go?" he said, too loudly.

"Out the west gate. That is all I know," the chamberlain said defensively as Bethaer rounded on him.

He hailed his manservant, who quickened to his side. "Find out where the queen is headed," he instructed the man, who bowed low and raced out the door. His other attendants streamed in to fuss over him, but he shook them off.

"Do you intend to follow her?" the chamberlain asked. "Shall I send word to ready the horses?"

"Not yet." The pit in his stomach was growing, but he knew he couldn't act rashly. It was unwise to leave Kiridas without both its rulers on such short notice. And he didn't want to leave his daughter alone.

Their daughter. His heart sped up as he exited his chamber, heading for her room. Surely Litheian hadn't taken Meakia with her. Had she?

Her attendants were at her door, waiting to wake her, but this did not reassure him. He flung open the heavy door, startling the nurse on night duty. She bowed hastily and left as he made for the bed, stopping when he saw her sleeping form.

Weakly he knelt at her bedside, calming his breaths. He watched as his daughter's chest rose and fell easily in her sleep, and he couldn't resist reaching out to caress her dark hair.

Meakia opened her eyes, a brilliant shade of green that made his own murky green ones pale in comparison. "Abba," she said, smiling. She was too young to address him formally yet.

"My strong little daughter," he replied, brushing her cheek. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

She yawned and nodded tiredly, turning over and fidgeting with the end of her braid. He stood up and backed away, shutting the door quietly as he exited. He turned to the nurse, who bowed silently.

"Have you seen the queen?" he asked her.

"She spent all night with her highness and left before the dawn," the woman answered.

Bethaer closed his eyes. His wife had only done this once before, when she'd needed to travel to the high court. She'd been away two months, and being parted so long had pained her greatly. She had spent days with their daughter when she returned, scarcely letting her out of her sight.

He turned toward the sound of footsteps growing closer and saw his manservant running toward him. Bethaer let the man catch his breath as he bowed, gasping for air.

"Her majesty is headed for Lamath," the man said finally.

Bethaer's heart sank. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, il-hanaan. She spoke to the gate master herself."

"Did she leave any words for me?" His voice carried more yearning than he had wanted to reveal.

"No, il-hanaan. She said only that she was going home."

Home. He closed his eyes. She had not set foot in Lamath since Meakia had been old enough to travel to Kiridas. But now she was returning there without so much as a farewell to either him or their daughter.

Did she even intend to return?

***

Litheian awoke in the predawn hours, Lisse still snoring softly next to her. There had only been one open room at the inn, with a single bed. She'd insisted that her maidservant stay by her side, not wanting to be alone.

She still had nightmares when she slept alone.

Counting her breaths, she stared up at the low ceiling as the black faded to gray, faint shadows gracing the walls as the early summer sun peeked over the horizon. Tonight she would be home, surrounded by her family. Perhaps that might be enough to fill the ache in her chest, which had threatened to consume her ever since she left her daughter's side. Absently she rubbed the spot over her heart, trying to ease the pain.

Lisse turned over and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Litheian followed suit, and soon they were seated at the great table downstairs, dipping the remains of the previous day's bread in a warm summer soup teeming with fresh-cut greens.

The air was cool and dewy as she stepped outside, breathing in the mud-and-hay scent of the inn yard. The coachman was about to bring round the carriage, but she hailed the captain of her guard. She wanted to ride today.

By noon they reached the guard post atop the ridge overlooking the city. The watchman called a halt to their small party, and she inched her horse forward, holding out her hand. The man's eyes bugged as he saw her signet ring.

"Forgive me, al-duya," he said, bowing. "Shall I send a rider to announce you?"

She shook her head. "I'll go ahead myself."

Litheian spurred her horse into a trot. The sparse forests gave ways to fields rippling with summer crops, and she picked up her pace. The long-straight road was wide enough for a single rider to race down the center, and she urged her mount into a gallop.

Her guards' protests fell away; her braid streamed out behind her and the wind whipped at her face. All she could hear was the solid hoofbeats beneath her and she laughed into the free air.

She slowed as she neared the city gates, looking back as the captain of her guard caught up to her. He scowled but said nothing as she smiled brightly at him. They tarried by the gates until the carriage finally came into sight, and she dismounted. She switched places with the young guard whose horse she had borrowed, sliding into the carriage to be met with Lisse's fussing and tidying.

One of her guard must have ridden ahead, for when she exited the carriage her stepmother was waiting for her. Litheian reached out her hands and her stepmother took them in her own, her gaze full of questions. But she didn't voice them, merely escorting her to the women's wing, where a room was waiting for her among her sisters' chambers.

Supper was full of excitement, and she lost herself in her siblings' banter and her parents' recounting of all that was new these past few years. She visited the baths at her sisters' insistence, laughing as they splashed and played about. They stayed up together, huddled on Litheian's large bed, and she fell asleep with her arms around the youngest's small frame.

It wasn't until a week later, sitting on the balcony and sharing fine Jenerits wine in the warm evening air, that her stepmother asked her.

"Why are you here, daughter?" she said quietly.

Litheian bit her lip, looking down at the dark red liquid in her cup. "The Council says we need more children. I agree, but he...." She turned her gaze up to the dark sky, the stars winking faintly above the city streets sprawled out below them.

"He doesn't want to hurt you," her stepmother finished for her.

Litheian nodded mutely.

"How long has it been?"

"Not since before Meakia was born." She smiled at the memory, the warmth and closeness of that night, before her daughter came into the world. But her eyes prickled with tears. "Royal mother," she said, turning to her, and her stepmother opened her arms.

Litheian let herself be held tightly, her hair stroked as the tears slipped down her face. At last she pulled away, dabbing at her eyes. "Why does it upset me so, royal mother?"

Her stepmother regarded her with a soft, sad smile. "Because you love him."

Litheian sniffled. "If I'd known he would pull away so much, I never would have insisted on separate chambers. But I wanted to nurse her as long as possible, and we needed at least one of us to be sleeping well. And when I was ready again, he kept finding excuses, so I stopped asking. I thought he just needed time, but... he never comes to my chamber."

"Do you go to him?"

Litheian shut her eyes. "Only when I dream."

Her stepmother patted her hand lightly. "I worried this might happen. The way he looked at you when your daughter was born...." She sighed. "As though he were ashamed to feel such joy and love."

"Does he love me?" Litheian asked bitterly, hating the disbelief in her voice. If he loved her, why didn't he believe her when she said she wanted him? Why did he turn away from her? "He feels sorry for me. For what he did at the spring festival. It's like he can't forgive himself, even though I tell him I've moved on, he's stuck in place, dragging me back there."

"It would be difficult for him to believe, if you only come to him when you fear to sleep alone," her stepmother responded gently, and Litheian sighed.

"How much more do I have to try, royal mother? He's lost in the past, and I can't reach him."

"Have you considered, my daughter, that following his father's command... it may have scarred him to hurt you so?"

Litheian shook her head. "But I made sure he didn't see how much pain I was in."

"He needn't have seen," her stepmother said softly, and Litheian shut her eyes, remembering the day he'd stood at her door, asking to see her, and the words he'd said at the high court after he was freed. I hurt you so much when I put this child in you.

"I didn't want him to blame himself for something we had agreed upon, royal mother. I wanted to protect him."

Her stepmother's hands smoothed her hair. "Just as he wants to protect you. But you must be honest with each other about the pain you endured together. That is the only way forward."

Litheian nodded, heart beating tremulously in her chest. The crescent moon hung low in the sky, bright silver outshining the stars.

***

Bethaer was staring at the sheaf of weekly reports as though the letters would unstick themselves and speak their secrets, spilling from the ink to fill his blank eyes. He shut them and put out his hand, poised over the table.

There was a thump outside and then two hasty raps on the door. Then two more as he shoved his chair back, hand to his knife at his waist as the door jerked open.

A manservant leaned gasping on the hard doorframe. With his free hand, Bethaer grasped the desk, fingers clenched against his trembling. Beyond him the corridor echoed the man's heavy breathing, hollow and empty.

"Is it the princess?" he asked the man.

He shook his head. "Her majesty," he gasped.

"What? What about her? What happened?" Bethaer was near ready to walk around his desk and shake the man. He could picture her bruised and broken at the bottom of some mountain pass, her horse twisted below her.

"She... she...."

"She what?"

"She's back." He smiled, worn. "By Gaier's Post... sent a messenger."

He reached behind him for his chair, suddenly weak. He sheathed his blade and put his head in his hands, forcing his lungs to slow the frantic beat of his heart.

"How long ago from Gaier's Post?"

"Not two hours."

Bethaer's legs shot up from his seat and he passed the man, running into the hallway. By carriage she couldn't be that far behind the rider she'd sent ahead.

Flying down the stairs to the main gate, he almost crashed into a maidservant rushing up the steps clutching a bowl of water, cloth folded over her arm.

She smiled and bowed her head, thumbs firmly curled over the brim of the ceramic. "Il-hanaan."

He dipped his head in reply and slithered down to the landing.

"Il-hanaan," she repeated.

His foot was already on the next curve of the stair, but he glanced back.

Her smile widened and dimpled her cheeks. "Her ladyship Jamisha went to fetch her highness for the gate."

Surely he was beaming. Then he almost tumbled to the foot of the steps, steadied by a sturdy pair of hands.

"Il-hanaan," said his attendant, brushing him off. "I was going to help you get dress--"

Bethaer shook his head. "No time," he said breathlessly, and headed outside.

Out in the courtyard the visiting lords, royal attendants, various servants all crowded around at the foot of the great double doors. He didn't slow for them, hurtling forward in his booted strides and the crowd shrank back away from him, bowing.

He reached the front and there was Jamisha, holding Meakia's hands in her own like a puppeteer as the little one tried to dance away.

He swooped down on her and she giggled, shrieking. "Abba!"

"Yes, my little swan. Do you know who's coming home?"

"Amma, Amma!" Her voice rose above the fray, and a huddle of Council members chuckled softly nearby.

"Yes," he said, crouched beside her. "Up?"

She reached out her hands and he pulled her up into his arms, holding her close.

"Amma's coming back," she said again, into his ear like a secret the whole world should know.

"Yes," he whispered back. "She's coming."

In his chest his heart was galloping, he could feel the blood rushing through the veins of his arms, holding tight to his daughter. On his lips he breathed a prayer of thanks that his wife, his queen was coming home.

More people arrived, milling about the courtyard, chattering excitedly until the cacophony seemed as though it would reach the city walls. Soon the watchman called out that she'd passed the north gate, and the crowd buzzed.

Bethaer set down Meakia, smoothing back her dark hair that glinted bronze under the sun. She wriggled, impatient, but he reminded her that she was grown enough to greet her mother properly. She pouted but stood up straight, holding Jamisha's hand.

Then the gates opened and the carriage clattered across the yard, coming to a halt below the steps where he stood with their daughter. He opened the door and Litheian stepped out, smiling wryly as she took his hand.

Around them like ripples on a lake the people dropped to the ground, heads bowed. Meakia bowed low, looking as though she would almost fall over. Her mother laughed at this.

"Meakia, my daughter. When did you grow old enough to greet me like that?"

Their daughter straightened, frowning. "Since you left, Amma."

Litheian pressed her lips together, pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry that I left without saying goodbye, my little star. Can you forgive me?"

Meakia narrowed her eyes, then smiled. "Yes, Amma!" She rushed forward into her mother's skirts, fisting the heavy cloth in her little hands. "But you can't leave ever again!" she said, and Litheian pet her hair.

"I won't, my daughter. Not without saying goodbye." Belatedly she looked about, at the servants and nobles and advisers still kneeling. "Up, all of you!" she commanded, and they rose.

***

Litheian looked around her at her people, their faces brimming with relief and thankfulness. She hadn't considered the court would miss her so dearly, but under their stillness the air hummed with barely-restrained excitement at her homecoming. She turned to her husband and he smiled broadly, though his arms stayed at his side.

She reached out to him and his hands clasped her elbows, his forehead meeting hers. "Thank you for returning, my queen," he murmured.

"Forgive me for leaving as I did, im-uvnyan," she replied softly.

Between them their daughter giggled, and they pulled apart. "Tazer had her foal!" Meakia told her mother excitedly, and Litheian allowed herself to be led away, glancing back apologetically at Bethaer, who only laughed brightly in a way she hadn't heard for too long.

She spent the day with their daughter, helping her with her lessons, playing with her in the gardens. Her husband kept his distance, understanding that she needed this time alone with Meakia, who would scarcely let her out of her sight until she fell asleep after supper. Litheian kissed her and handed her over to her nurse, who cradled her small form carefully.

She tried to keep her tone light, though her heart was beating hard. "Shall we go to the baths, im-uvnyan?"

She watched him pause before answering. "As you wish, im-uvnya."

The hot water steamed in the warmth of the late summer air, the bathhouse misty as the torches flickered. Litheian submersed herself, feeling her hair glide and weave around her, then came up for air. Lisse would surely have scolded her for tangling her locks, but she was alone with her husband, and he lathered her roots for her in the comfortable silence before she turned and did the same for his short curls.

She massaged oils into her long tresses before combing them out, making a heavy wet braid and tying it up so she could soak in the water once more. Dipping her body into the enveloping heat, she sighed and lay her head back on the cool stone.

"I spoke with my royal mother," she said. Her voice carried in the quiet, melding with the lapping of the water in the pool.

"And what did she say?" Bethaer asked in reply.

"It was wrong of me to push you for children. I hadn't considered... how much it hurt you, to hurt me. Even though I tried to hide my pain from you."

The water splashed and moved, and he was beside her. "I regret so much not speaking with you, afterward," he said, his voice soft in her ear. "Not properly. I thought you must hate even the sight of me, so I kept away."

Litheian shifted and found his shoulder next to hers, lay her head on it as the water lapped at her cheek. "I didn't want you to see... how much it hurt me. I didn't want you to blame yourself."

He put his arm around her, kissed her temple. "Is that why you didn't tell me? That our daughter was growing inside you?"

"Yes," she murmured, shame heating her already-heated body. "I kept trying to tell you, but... I could tell the war was going badly, and you were already so pressed, working all day with that anxious frown on your face. I didn't want to add to your burdens."

He pulled her closer. "It was a heavy thing to bear on your own."

"And for you as well," she said. "You were always pretending to be a perfect son, weren't you? Your father's heir. It must have been so lonely, without your second brother."

"I promised him I would help my sister-in-law, but I couldn't," he said, voice trembling. "And then I promised I would keep you safe, and I failed again."

Litheian reached up to brush the tears she knew were on his face. "Is that why you were willing to let yourself be punished so?"

"I thought you were somewhere I could never reach again. That you wouldn't need me, or want me." His voice broke. "And then you walked into the High Council chamber, and the light returned to my world."

She wrapped her arms around him, and he lay his head on hers. "I won't ask you to do something that would bring back that darkness," she said softly. "I will stand on your side and fight the Council for you, im-uvnyan."

"No, im-uvnya," he replied, and she pulled away to look at him, puzzled. "I thought for the longest time that you only sought me because you feared your dreams," he continued. "But I should have believed what you told me on our wedding night."

She crinkled her brows, trying to remember. "What did I say?"

"That you felt safe with me." He brushed her cheek with his thumb, ever so gently, and Litheian leaned in to kiss him.

He moaned as their tongues met, and for a moment there was nothing but the meeting of their mouths, slipping in and out of each other.

Bethaer broke away, breathing heavily. "Not here, im-uvnya."

She grinned and stepped out of the pool, drying herself slowly so he could watch before she dressed herself.

"Come to my bed, my king," she told him, and he chuckled softly in response.

"Yes, my queen."

***

Bethaer padded down the hallway in his slippers, nodding at the maidservants who bowed their heads to him. He hadn't visited his wife's chambers since Meakia had been weaned. Surely his presence would spark rumors, and he grinned at the thought.

The doors of her balcony were open, the curtains swaying in the lazy breeze. She was dressed, barely, looking out over the city under the moonless sky. He stayed silent, admiring the shape of her bent over the railing, her lovely ass cheeks, and her calf peeking out from her robe.

"Im-uvnya," he said, and she turned to him with a smile.

She shut the doors to the balcony, and he did the same for the large door to her antechamber. The lamps flickered, then steadied in the stillness, the flames dancing in her eyes.

He inhaled sharply as she undid her robe and let it fall to the floor. Her breasts were fuller now, her slim frame filled out with luscious curves. He groaned, already hard for her, and she smiled knowingly. She walked towards him slow but steady, undressing him without saying a word.

"Oh," she whimpered, seeing his member hanging heavy and full. His seed oozed out, and she reached to wipe it away with her finger, putting it to her mouth to taste with a grin. This only made him leak more. "How did you stand it, all these years?" she asked him.

He groaned. "I still have both my hands, don't I?" he said, and she laughed, low and content.

Litheian knelt on the floor and took him in her hands, rubbing slowly and licking at him every so often. Then she covered him with her mouth and sucked him hungrily, moaning softly. He rested his hand on her head and closed his eyes, relishing the smooth wetness of her tongue caressing the head of his cock.

"Do you want another child?" he asked her, and she pulled away.

"Yes, im-uvnyan." His member twitched at her words, and she grinned. "Do you want to put a child in me?"

Bethaer groaned in response. "So much, my love."

She hummed in agreement, then went down on him again. He moaned as she bobbed up and down on him deep and slow, trying not to lose himself in the heavenly feeling.

"You should stop, im-uvnya," he said, breathless from her ministrations.

She pulled back and gave a mischievous smile. "I prepared something for you, just in case. So don't worry about anything, my love. Just think of putting a child in my womb."

"If you say so," he murmured, surrendering to the feeling of her lips nibbling along his shaft.

Up and down she went, teasing him with her soft, wet tongue. Then she plunged down over him, deep and hard. He gasped and bucked his hips against her, brushing the back of her throat. She was sucking and licking and moaning into him, and he was going to come soon, he could feel it.

"Litheian, my love," he moaned, and then his cock spasmed as his eyes rolled back.

He clutched her shoulders as he ejaculated into her waiting mouth, over and over as he groaned in ecstasy. She was still sliding against him with each jerk of his member, swallowing his cum as it spurted out of him.

The bliss subsided and she pulled off his withering organ, smiling to herself. He was breathing heavily and his senses were returning to him.

"You shouldn't have done that," he told her. "Now you'll have to wait for me to be ready again."

"We won't need to wait," she said confidently, and he frowned at her, confused.

Litheian giggled and stood, kissing him lightly before walking over to her dresser and picking up a small bottle. She came back to him and held it up, grinning.

"What's that?" he asked, though he already had an inkling.

"I asked the royal apothecary in Lamath," she began. "He said, if you use this after you finish --"

"Gods above and below," he muttered, flushing just to think of her discussing the matter with another man. "You asked him yourself?"

"I did," she said proudly. "I wanted to feel you empty yourself into my mouth, but I remembered what you said last time, so --"

Bethaer interrupted her with a kiss, moaning as he tasted his seed on her. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, and they explored each other until they pulled apart, panting.

"I will try this concoction," he told her, and she handed him the bottle.

He went over to the bed and sat down, uncorking the thing and pouring out the pungent, oily stuff into his hand. She watched him as he lathered his soft cock, which was beginning to tingle.

Once he judged he'd applied enough, he recorked the bottle and held it out for her to take. She replaced it on the dresser and then came to sit next to him, nuzzling the crook of his neck.

"While we're waiting," he said, "I'd like to try something for you."

"For me?" she echoed, pulling away to look at him curiously.

"Yes," he said, smiling wryly. "You always insist on taking me in your mouth, and you even made me finish this time. I'd like to return the favor."

"Oh," she murmured, pupils widening in the low light.

He leaned in to kiss her cheek and whispered in her ear. "You like the sound of that, don't you?"

"Yes," she answered breathily. "Lay me down and take me with your mouth."

He chuckled, pushing her back gently onto the bed, and she gazed up at him, eyes warm.

"I will always be amazed at your trust in me, im-uvnya," he said, caressing her breasts.

"And I will never again question your amazement, im-uvnyan."

He leaned down to her breast and nibbled at her nipple, and she moaned, near lifting herself off the bed. "Did you miss this?" he murmured.

"Yes," she breathed, and he licked her areola slowly as she whimpered.

Bethaer continued licking and sucking while he pinched her other breast lightly, then switched. The barest hint of teeth made her moan breathily, and she wrapped her arms around him. He suckled on her, pushing his tongue against her rhythmically, and she whimpered in time.

Litheian reached for his hand and guided it down between her legs. He rubbed her pubic bone and was rewarded with more sweet moans. He continued until she was squirming beneath him, letting his fingers brush her lower lips.

"I want you, my love," she said, voice rough with pleasure.

He slipped his fingers inside her and found her wet and swollen, and she moaned. "I know," he replied, rubbing around her nub gently.

He slid down onto the floor, spreading her thighs open. Her pussy gleamed in the lamplight, quivering with need.

"Kiss me," she said, and he did as told.

Leaning in, her licked her folds, tasting her sweet juices. She whimpered in response, squirming beneath him. He steadied her with his hands, then continued lapping at her luscious cunt. She sighed and mewled as he followed her instructions, asking for him to go faster, harder until he could barely feel his tongue. But then, "Oh!" she cried, her back arching and legs tensing, and he could feel her muscles tightening rhythmically as she came.

Bethaer sat up to see her eyes flutter in ecstasy, her open mouth emitting such wondrous sounds. He returned to continue licking her tender membranes gently until she sighed and relaxed.

She sat up, reaching for his hands, and he clambered back onto the bed. He groaned as she pulled him close, kissing him deep and rough. He could feel his member becoming hard again, gorged with blood, ready to take her. And she could feel it too, for her hand was on his crotch, kneading into him.

"Come into me now," she said, "and give me another child."

He laughed and pushed her back down, folding his hands around hers on the bed.

"May I enter you, im-uvnya?" he asked in her ear.

"Yes, my love," she moaned, and he guided his organ between her legs.

Bethaer went slowly, remembering how tight she had been that first time. But her cunt opened for him and she sighed as he hilted himself fully inside her. She wrapped her legs around his back and he stayed still for a moment, relishing her warmth and wetness of her surrounding his cock. Then she grunted impatiently, and he began to thrust.

Gently at first, then harder as she moaned for more, he pushed himself deep between her thighs. She mewled in time with his strokes, and he could feel himself climbing toward his peak. He slowed down, wanting to savor this feeling, of fucking his wife, his queen who was wondrous beyond all words.

She must have thought he needed her, for her lips were at his ear, urging him onward with her words. "Take me deep and hard, my love. Please your body in mine and empty yourself into me. Fill my womb with your cum, im-uvnyan. I love it so much, feeling your seed inside me."

He grinned, remembering their wedding night. "Then I will fill you up, my love."

Bethaer could hear himself grunting as he speared her over and over, deep and fast, could hear her cries as he pounded into her, until at last he was engulfed in a mighty orgasm. He groaned and reached down to kiss her as his cock pumped rhythmically inside her cunt, filling her with his virile cum. Finally the wave let him down and he rested his head against hers, still breathing hard.

"I want a son this time," she said, passing her hands along his back.

He laughed, still inside her. "Ask the gods, not me, my love."

"That's what I'm doing," she said. "I want a younger brother for our shining star. We'll call him Jethael. And after that, another daughter, Vaelan."

He groaned. "How many children do you want from me, my queen?"

"As many as you'll give me, im-uvnyan."

"As long as you're healthy," he conceded, and kissed her cheek.

He fell asleep that night in her arms, dreaming of a son with the same dimpled smile as his own mother. He couldn't have known then, but the gods had already decided. Litheian's wishes had touched the starry sky, the fertile earth, and her second child's soul was already blooming into being. But as of yet they lay unknowing, holding each other in the deep night.