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In the end, everything had been tried. From bitter potions of every variety, pendants of rose quartz about her neck, blessed by Lumens priestesses, and the healing powers of the Lumens themselves, to ancient and possibly risky rituals.
At first, there had been hope that the cures were working. But, then, she was left sobbing in her room, stained with blood again. Another pregnancy lost, and another, and another. He had lost count the amount of times through the years.
After Joslyn's untimely death, the queen wore the attire of mourning. She only removed her mourning cloak for her wedding dress, and even that was temporary. Even though it had been many years, she had not come out of of the dark veil.
Every year, she seemed to withdraw deeper into the veils until only a hint of her pink hair could be seen through her mourning. It encompassed the entirety of her. Darkness all day, all night.
Everything he had tried to reach her, and breech the walls all about her had failed.
So here they were, years later. Two separate people in a marriage that grew more distant every day. In every sense of the term, as he found solace far away from the capital in Elath.
Work to distract, work to build, work to fill what he would never have in his life.
He found little peace, even there. They haunted him, day and night. Talassian advisors, Elath advisors, his own father and mother. The words over and over.
The whole world was on edge. The queen's health was fragile. No heirs had been born.
Obviously, it is a hard choice. But both Elath and Nova may be unstable if no move is made.
There will be a succession crisis if something is not done.
The world is full of young noblewomen who would bear your child.
It will be the best for everyone.
Not for her, it wouldn't. He'd be just another in the line of people who had left her.
He pushed aside the decision. Her 33rd birthday neared. It would be gauche to do such a thing so close to then. He could always find an excuse to drive them back. Too close to the Festival of the Lady, too close to the end of the year and its festivities, too close to the anniversary of her coronation date, too close to the winter cold. Even as the woman he loved was so captive to grief that there was nigh no hint of the strong, vivacious woman she had been, and their marriage was in name only, he made excuses to stay
Whatever staying meant. Even if it meant being in Elath as much as possible, and ever correspondence sounding as dry and emotionless as if he were nothing more than another Duke, and not her husband.
Every little tragedy had left a crack. And the last, losing Joslyn, had broken her entirely. What would the loss of him do?
Aren't you a smug one? Thinking you're anything but an alliance to her. Something to smooth over the border crisis.
Such bitter thoughts. She wasn't the calculating one of them.
Talasse was dry and cold this time of year. He never fully forgot, but the memories dimmed, until the cold was sharp again.
He stared up at the familiar castle for several minutes as his horse and carriage were taken to the stables. All to compose himself, all to prepare his thoughts.
It'd been years since he'd seen Signuel. And since then, Signuel and his wife had been far more successful in having children than him. But, he had little excuse this time, given that Elath was so close to Talasse.
(And that was one of the reasons he could not bear to return. The sound of children's laughter left an untold ache deep inside.)
When he finally came in from the cold, Signuel had a drink in hand. Signuel resembled him in many ways. The same darker complexion, and purple hair. He needed no glasses, and had their mother's shade of eyes, a deeper blue than Talarist's own shade of light purple.
He was shorter, more given to actually smiling, and perhaps a bit more soft around the middle, given his love for enjoying the finer things in life. He married a noble woman who was a decent enough match. Her duchy had been penniless, though the lands had been fertile and it calmed any disputes near the border of his lands. However, despite all that, it had mainly been a love match, that Signuel had stubbornly clung to even when other eligible women of higher stature were available.
Signuel and Lyassa could hardly bear to be apart. And Signuel was such a doting father, he couldn't bear to leave his many children behind, either.
"Come now, a drink in celebration. Lyassa is pregnant again."
Again? It seemed as if he got one of these nigh every year. His brother must have a very effective set of administrators for his lands, for it certainly seemed as if Signuel and his wife rarely left their bedchambers.
"....Congratulations. This is what? Your sixth child now?"
"Eighth. You forgot the twins."
"Ah, yes...Of course. The twins."
He forced a smile. He could do it. He'd parleyed with far worse than his brother, and done so without losing composure for a second. Even as how easily others managed to have children felt like salted wounds, he would save face. He was a noble, after all.
"It's been some time since you last came, Talarist," Signuel said.
"Being both King consort and the Duke of Elath is takes up much of my time. And of course, you do so hate to leave your children and Lyassa behind to visit yourself," Talarist said.
"Yes, that is how it goes," Signuel said genially. "Though, I've not come here to flaunt my abundance in your face."
That would be a first. As any siblings, they certainly had their petty squabbles. Signuel was entirely too unserious at times. And his sense of humor could be so very immature and crass.
(He and Lyassa were matched at this, as whenever she was out of the sight of the nobility, she had the vocabulary of a drunken sailor, and the tales to match.)
"This many heirs could cause a succession crisis, you know."
These were as of late, becoming his least favorite words within the entirety of the language. Talarist gritted his teeth. He spoke as evenly as he could manage, as the all too familiar frustration and rage filled him.
"I am well aware, considering that I have heard from it seems half the population of Talasse and Nova at this rate. And I have heard from others far more crass suggestions of my own virility from the Novans. Frankly, I do not need yet another reminder, least of all from you who have been blessed with so many children."
His attempt at composure had failed. Signuel was always talented at being a thorn in his side, as siblings often would.
"I've an offer to make you. You could raise this one, if you so wished. I have already spoken to Lyassa. Or of course, you name one of my other children the heir of Elath."
Beneath his kindness was a blatant power grab. His brother was more alike him than he thought.
Signuel held up his hand. "No need to act now. The healers say she won't give birth for at least six months. But consider it. Perhaps this is the answer to all your problems. And as you said, I have been abundantly blessed, it wouldn't be quite kind for me to not share that abundance, now would it? And you could always name one of my other children as heir to Elath while you are at it. That way, you can spend more time in the capital."
"How thoughtful, that your help offers you such a benefit as well," Talarist said.
And that's how it always was with him. Geniality which had an edge hidden behind mirth.
Still, this could very well be his salvation.
"I will think upon it," Talarist said.
"Good, good. Now, you should meet my little ones. They've certainly gotten much bigger since you last saw them."
Signuel led him through the familiar castle halls. Signuel and him had ran through these halls, games of chase and tag.
Signuel called his children, and had them line up one by one. The youngest had to be carried in by a wet nurse, as Lyassa was resting.
"Say hello to your uncle Talarist. He's the King Consort of Nova."
There were a chorus of greetings.
Something inside him ached at the sight of his nieces and nephews. So many of them had grown, they were full of such energy, such wonder.
It was bittersweet, to gain the crown as consort, but have no heirs. An empty victory in the end. Especially as the Novans had turned sour against him, blaming him for the lack of heirs.
"Hello, all of you."
Talarist bent down to be closer to their gaze. It was unbefitting one of his station, but children would hardly know that.
"You've all grown so much."
"Did you bring me something, Uncle King Talarist?"
"I wouldn't be a very good uncle if I didn't have gifts."
Sweets. The same sweets he'd given Elodie for years, just to see a hint of a smile from her. He'd planned to one day treat his own children to sweets, and teach them how to ride.
"Now, children, your lesson is coming up," Signuel said.
"Aww, daaad."
"Be good in front of your Uncle King Talarist," Signuel said cheerfully.
"All right..."
"I am sure you will do wonderfully in your lessons. You all are brilliant and wonderful children."
"Careful, you silver tongued devil. It'll go to their heads."
"It's only the truth. They must take after Lyassa," Talarist said.
The children filed out, one by one.
"How could you ever let them go?" Talarist said.
"I can't say it's easy, but it's tearing you up inside."
"And certainly, the potential for your heir to claim the throne of Nova has nothing to do with it," Talarist said.
"Certainly," Signuel said. "A drink?"
"I must respectfully refuse. I fear if I begin drinking, I will not stop until I am a mess," Talarist said.
"Long ride?"
Talarist nodded.
But it was more than that. It was years of watching his marriage fray and nothing they tried fix it. It was the sleepless nights in an empty bed miles away, and how every single happy memory with her turned bittersweet, as he remembered what they once were.
Young and hopeful rulers to Nova, sure that the worst was behind them.
But, there would be plenty of time tonight to go over his regrets. What had become a nightly occurance.
"I'll let you go, then. Rest up, dear brother," Signuel said.
"And remember my offer," Signuel said.
"I am not dottering into old age and forgetfulness yet," Talarist said.
"So you say," Signuel said.
Even though he was only a year younger.
The trip was not quite as rejuvenating as he would have liked, but little was in his current state. The constant need to address this, fix this chasm between him and his wife was always there. During work keeping Elath running, during the long nights he slept alone in his bed.
Finally, he could no longer ignore or delay this.
After settling affairs at Elath, Talarist returned to the capital of Nova.
Even as his carriage took him to the capital, his thoughts were muddled with what he would do.
Queen Elodie was kind. She wouldn't send him to the dungeons for divorcing her. But, the very thought was so sour, so painful.
She had been through so much and to only add to her grief would make him an utter scoundrel. To remain in this facade of a marriage would leave both Elath and Nova without an heir, perhaps bringing ruin upon them all.
He was no exile, even if it felt like it, as he returned to what had once been his home. For some years, at least, while they ruled together.
It'd been some time since he returned to the castle. However, little had changed. The same towering spires, the same sprawling gardens, and the same queen cloistered away, cloaked in mourning.
Even more bittersweet were the memories. His bridal carriage, her beside him in a beautiful white dress and stolen kisses broken apart as the carriage jostled over the bumpy road.
They had been so happy, at least for a short while.
He went through those familiar halls, with a nod, to whatever gaurd he passed until he came to her chambers.
She resembled a devoted priestess more than a queen.
A single shaft of light shone through the room. She had adjourned within her chambers. He wouldn't even have to ask a servant where to find her, for this was where she always was. Any time she wasn't needed within the court, she would have a rosary in hand and a book of prayers nearby for solace.
She'd had far too many stray arrows and poisoned chocolates in her life.
"Dear," he said softly. The words sounded foreign. His mouth was suddenly dry. He cleared his throat.
She glanced back. Pink curls escaped her mourning attire. What little he could see of her through the sadness was as always, a beauty without compare. Like looking to the face of a goddess, he'd always told her. At times, he'd even meant it.
Her face was twisted with sadness. "You've come to ask for a divorce, haven't you? And if not, then it will come. One day, you will ask to leave me and find another. Is that what it is? If so, tell me now."
The words of his advisors, and the words of his brother were chaos in his mind. He knew all too well what a succession crisis could bring. How many of his family had been lost to Elath? Would this land curse him as well?
His only other choice was Signuel's offer. To accept such a thing would be to swallow his pride as a man and allow his brother to win. But the only other choice would lead to potential war later on, or leaving her to marry another simply for heirs.
Her blue eyes were rimmed in red. She'd been crying. Surely, he'd been the cause this time.
After all these years, he still hadn't grown numb to her pain. Even as constant as it was.
"Well? What is it? Have you already drawn up the documents?"
"No," he said finally.
"Don't lie to me. I know. I cannot give you what you need. You must go elsewhere. Is that it?" Her voice raised at the end. "Have you already picked out my successor? Already picked out who will warm your bed?"
He flinched. "Queen Elodie, dear..."
"It is as I've feared, then? Is that it?"
"No. The truth is, despite what is best for the country, I cannot bring myself to make such a choice. It is entirely too painful."
"Because you pity me? Is that it?"
"...Because I love you," he said.
There it was, the simple truth. No flattery or politics. What had started for stability of their countries, and power, had grown to something more. And quite swiftly, at that.
And as he said the words, he knew them to be true. A thousand excuses or more. So many reasons not to leave, but here was the true one.
Even as their marriage had become more distant, he'd never been able to rid himself of these feelings. Even if it would have been far more advantageous to him to do so.
How gauche, to fall in love with one's wife so completely. He'd certainly draw the consternation of some of the court.
She stared down at her rosary.
"You have always been my first crush, and first love...I have spent almost half of my life loving you. You have been my rock, my strength, and the only thing which has gotten me through such myriad tragedies. I half think you are the only reason I survived this pit of vipers, all that would take Nova from me. And I think had I met you any earlier, I would've loved you then, too. Even to say the words breaks my heart. But I will not hold you hostage. I will not force you into a place you do not want to be."
"I am no hostage or prisoner. I chose to be here. And ...In truth, I did not realize your feelings were so deep," Talarist said.
Her expression was filled with hurt. "You thought I was indifferent to you? Have I come off as so callous and cold?"
"You were always cordial. I could never fault you that. I certainly would've guessed that you were at least fond of me. But...The situation. The many tragedies that happened... There was always something. An assassination plot. A war. The miscarriages, grieving your parents."
"And through those, I was grateful to know you were by my side."
"You never wrote when I left to Elath," Talarist said.
"By then, I thought you already gone. I wrote letter after letter and never sent them," Elodie said.
"Letters I never received, and never knew," he said.
"I remember the confirmation of your title. When you swore your loyalty to me, and took the title of Duke of Elath. I was quite smitten with you, and asked for your hand shortly after my coronation. I thought I was lucky to find someone so easily. My parents were so deeply in love, you see. I didn't want just a political arrangement. But I was really quite taken with you from the beginning so that was never a problem for me. And in time, I only liked you more. Yes, it did settle any lingering questions of your loyalty in inheriting Novan land, but you were always more than that to me."
"I see. I never realized," he said.
"I have failed in expressing myself, then," she said softly.
"Or, I was far more cynical than you," he said.
"Perhaps," she said.
"What I need to do is to fire some advisors," he said.
"Advisors? What have they done?"
"They have warned of what would happen if there were no heirs. For some time, they have constantly been telling me of what would come if no heir was named."
"Then, you will..."
"There is another possibility, we could name an heir of someone else," Talarist said.
"Charlotte, then," Elodie said.
"Signuel has made an offer. His wife is with child yet again. He has offered to let us raise this one as the heir...as our own," Talarist said.
"A...child? And you'd accept that? That our heir would be your brother's child, and not ours?"
"He is my brother. We share the same blood. In the end, if that is what it takes, then I will accept this offer. There will be no more issue of succession. And he's no shortage of children to inherit. He even suggested I name another for Elath."
Talarist grimaced at this.
"Eh? Signuel's line to inherit not just one, but two titles? Your brother really is quite like you," she said.
"Don't remind me," Talarist said.
Sadness came over her.
"This must be difficult for you. I know of the rumors they have said about you. But I could not stop it. I could not give you a child. Even though I was to blame, you took each and every horrible remark."
He'd heard it all. A untrustworthy foreigner, who'd gone and inherited Elath. Someone who didn't belong. And he couldn't even give their queen an heir. He'd gained quite a few names in his name here. Talarist the withered one, and that was the least crass of the bunch.
He came closer, into the darkness of the room. He embraced her from behind, as he had many times.
"Do you remember when Shanjia invaded? Do you remember when Nova was on the brink of civil war? That was difficult. This? This is easy. So, I let Signuel's heirs be the ones to inheirt Elath and Nova. It is not the worst fate or hardship we have endured together."
He took her hand, and lifted it to his mouth to brush his lips across her knuckles. "Choosing you was never a difficult choice. I have never for a moment regretted it. Even through the painful moments. My only regret was I could not spare you more hardship. For you have known far too much hardship in your life."
"For the first time, I feel something like hope," she said softly.
"Then, you will?"
She inclined her head softly. "If you consent to such a thing, I will."
"I do. Have you thought of a name?"
"Joslyn or Fidelia. I always wanted to honor them," she said.
The names which were often in her prayers, and spoken aloud from her nightmares.
"I have one request," Elodie said.
"Anything you wish, I will do whatever is within my power to fulfill," Talarist said.
"I want you to stay. If it means you must find some administrator to care for Elath for some time, then do it. There is no crisis at the borders, no famine, no war. Please...allow me this one mercy of you at my side again. I need your strength now more than ever."
There was such fragile hope in her gaze. He could not let her down.
"I will have to leave temporarily to make arrangements. But once they are settled, I will return to your side," Talarist said.
"I understand. I have withstood worse. Still, I will miss you."
Talarist rested his hands gently upon her shoulders.
"I've missed you," Talarist said.
"I have not left the palace in years. I have, indeed, been here all along."
"But you've still been gone. Unreachable. You do not have to be alone in your grief."
She did not speak for a long time.
"At first, I didn't want to burden you. And indeed, I grew used to having to do everything by myself. When father died, I had no one to rely on, except for Julianna, and she was always prone to being taciturn."
"As the years went by, I knew it was coming. It hurt too much to have to say goodbye to you. I have lost so much...to lose you as well was far too heavy a burden to bear. It seemed as much as I prayed, the gods did not hear a single word. I have mourned my father and mother for many years. But to have to mourn you even as you were still there, to know that every kiss may be the last, and that every word you said had turned hollow..."
She closed her eyes.
"It was too much."
He leaned in to kiss the top of her head.
"I cannot swear that I will be able to stay at your side for all of time. One day, death may come claim me before it claims you. But that is all that will make us parted permanently."
"I have another request."
"Anything," he said.
"When you return... I want you to move back into my chambers. Permanently, if possible."
"Are you sure? The miscarriages...."
She had not shared bedchambers with him for some time. The miscarriages weakened her body so much. Each moment of lifted hope would only make the grief that much more potent. He'd moved to his own bedchambers in the castle at first, and then buried himself in running Elath. The distance was less painful than the constant reminder of what they could not have, and what her infertility had done to their marriage.
"I will take a draught, if it comes to that. One to delay the cycles for me. If it means you could return to me then I will do it."
His hands tightened in hers.
Preparing Elath took more time than he would have liked. First, he named Lys, named after his mother, the heir to there. He was a young, but studious boy who as the third son, was unlikely to inherit. He wrote many letters back, almost daily. He was well aware that they could be intercepted, so he kept anything too important to be told later.
The arrangements were simple. Lyassa was to remain there. Signuel was firm on that point. Once the child was born, a wet nurse would be procured, though they would wait a few months to bring them to the capital. Such a long and dusty ride would be hard on the little one, and a trip by sea would be little better.
He had two portraits painted: one of Elath and one of Talasse. Both were to bring with him to the capital. All in so he could keep the sights of his land fresh in his mind while he resided elsewhere.
When he returned, she wore a gown with actual colors, instead of the shapeless mass of mourning clothes, which looked as if she had been swallowed up by nothingness.
It'd been quite some time since he'd last seen her out of black. Had it been their wedding, or earlier?
He took her hand, and kissed it. "You look lovely, positively radiant today, my queen."
"Father and mother would not want me to spend my entire life in mourning. And for our child, Signuel's child, I should try and make an effort to come out of the dark. And for you, too."
"Our child. I have claimed them as such. Even if blood dictates this child is my niece or nephew, I shall always consider them a son or daughter of mine."
"Our child," she said softly.
"I had given up ever hearing those words."
"Me too."
That night, Queen Elodie actually came back to the nobility, with her King consort by her side.
Eight months later.
He woke up in the middle of the night to a noise, the faintest of cries. The warmth of her body was curled up against him. He instinctively pulled her closer against him.
He was still getting used to being a father.
Her pale curls were tangled over the pillows. She sat up in bed, suddenly alert. Many attempts upon her life had left her easily awoken.
She insisted that Little Jos be installed within her chambers, and would not hear of him being even a room away, or allowing the wet nurses to take care of him entirely. Even when she held court, Elodie kept her son close.
"Oh, oh, he's fussing."
She threw back the covers and rose up. She lifted little Jos from the crib and began to rock him, whispering words of comfort.
He reached to the side of the bed for his glasses.
"Do you wish for me to call for the wet nurse?"
"Not yet. I want a few moments with him before I do."
Talarist rose up from bed, and joined her.
"You don't have to get up," she said.
"I want to," Talarist said.
Little Jos was soothed almost instantly, rocked in Talarist's arms. Little Joslyn had already brought back a smile to his mother's lips.
"Little Jos looks much like you."
"He's hungry, probably," Talarist said.
Still, in Talarist's arms, little Jos was slightly soothed as he rocked their child.
"You're such a natural father. The moment you picked up little Jos, he calmed down. It was almost as if you have Lumen like powers about children."
"I have no Lumen ancestors that I know of. While Lumen queens were the norm in Nova, they were not quite so much in Talasse. Any talent I have is in no way magical."
Talarist smiled down at his son.
"Children are so innocent and full of wonder. I rather like them," Talarist said.
"Ah... Every time, I find new reasons to fall in love with you."
He smiled. "And I, you."
In the dark of the night, it was just the three of them. A little family built up from the ashes of tragedy.