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rose_in_winterPairings/Characters: Kain Highwind, plus cast
Rating: R (overall), G (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content. Other warnings may apply that are not listed here.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 4800 this chapter.
Beta:celeloriel
Thirteen years after Zeromus
"It is finally spring," Elizabeth said with a sigh of relief, looking out over the crowd of young girls weaving ribbons round a towering pole. Princess Sophia was among them, laughing and shouting with her friends. At eight, she was taller than most girls her age, showing signs of having more of Cecil's height and build than Rosa's more delicate frame.
"The winter seemed longer than usual," Kain agreed, leaning forward and bracing his arms against the stone wall that surrounded the little balcony outside their rooms. The stone was warm under his hands, baked by the sun that had come out in full force for the day. They could hardly have asked for more perfect weather for the Spring Festival.
"If the gods are kind, this year will be better," Rosa said. "I mislike the look of the thin faces I have seen everywhere."
"Yet we have survived," Elizabeth said, "and I, for one, anticipate eagerly a meal that consists of more than porridge."
"You did say you would be willing," Kain reminded her in a deliberately light tone.
"And as I recall, I also told you that I would try to be grateful that I had porridge instead of rebellion," Elizabeth retorted. "I never promised that I would succeed." For all her sharp words, her fingertips brushing against the back of his hand were gentle.
Kain laughed. "I am duly appreciative of your efforts," he assured her, turning his hand to clasp hers for a moment.
"I only hope that we have no further decisions of that nature to make," Rosa said.
"Yes, I think that the majority of the citizens of Baron are quite irked enough with you for now," Elizabeth said. "To hear some complain, you'd think they were being tortured all winter."
"I certainly heard no such complaints in my own home," Kain said aloud to no one in particular, albeit somewhat sarcastically.
"If you wish to consider hearing no such complaints," Elizabeth said, "you might take care with your words."
"I thought I was being very careful," Kain said with as much innocence as he could muster.
"I am sure that you did." Elizabeth changed the subject. "Look, they are done dancing. Your Majesty?"
"Yes." Rosa took up the basket of flowers that rested at her feet and watched as her daughter and the other girls of noble birth clustered under the balcony.
"Your Majesty!" Lord Darmin's eldest granddaughter, Caroline, offered a graceful curtsey. She had been chosen the Spring Queen this year and looked the part with an abundance of sunny curls and cornflower-blue eyes. "We humbly request the blessings of spring!"
Rosa lifted a handful of hyacinths from the basket and flung them over the balcony. Purple, white, and pink flowers cascaded down from the balcony into eager hands. More flowers followed, the first of spring: daffodils, crocus, tulips, in a brilliant rainbow of blossoms. The dancers collected armfuls of flowers and then darted off to scatter them around the courtyard. The tradition was supposed to invite the warm weather of spring to stay and bless the fields with generous crops. Kain only hoped that it would in fact serve its purpose this year. Baron would not survive another such harvest as the one last fall.
"It is good to see them laughing," Rosa said, watching as Sophia pelted her companions with handfuls of flowers.
With that, Kain could certainly agree. In addition to being a rather hungry winter, it had been a cold one, with horrific gales sweeping down out of the Mist Mountains and cutting through layers of wool and fur as though they did not exist.
"I am only glad we made it through the winter healthy," Elizabeth observed.
"The Spring Festival should be a time of joy," Rosa said. "Let us not dwell on dark days past. We should go down and join them."
With the ritual of the flower blessings complete, there was no reason for them to remain on the balcony, so they wove their way through the castle hallways to the courtyard below. Servants had already been at work for hours arranging the tables at which they would eat. Despite the intense cold and storms of the past winter, spring had come relatively early, and even now the first of the new vegetables were ready to eat. The feast would be light compared to previous years, but still a welcome change from the monotony of winter.
"Your Majesty!" Constance Darmin, formerly Constance Nerthic, greeted them with a curtsey. She and Matthew had wed a year after Kain and Elizabeth's own wedding. Their elder son, Evan, stood half-hidden behind his mother's skirts.
"How does the day find you?" Rosa asked her. Constance had always been one of her favourite ladies-in-waiting.
"I am well, thank you, Your Majesty. Elizabeth, it is good to see you." Constance offered Elizabeth a quick embrace, and then retrieved her younger son, Robert, from Matthew. He was only a few months old, and had his eyes closed against the bright sunlight.
They proceeded to the feast, with the ladies choosing to walk ahead with the children. Matthew dropped back to walk with Kain, and they continued in silence for some time.
The courtyard was anything but silent, being filled by the families of all the nobility in residence at Baron City. Kain looked about for the children and saw Sophia laughing and running with Caroline Darmin on the east side of the courtyard, while Jalen was talking quietly with a few of the boys his own age under the watchful eyes of his Dragoon guards. Both of them appeared to be safe and happy enough.
At Rosa's nod, he took Elizabeth's arm to escort her to the head table. Rosa walked unaccompanied. As they took their places at the head table, the others in the courtyard began to find places at the lower tables. The seasonal festivals were one of the few times when there was no assigned seating at a royal feast; apart from those who were to sit at the high table, each person took a place where she willed.
Caroline Darmin stood before the high table, and held aloft a goblet of wine. "May Bahamut and the Eidolons keep watch over us, and make this year a bountiful one," she said, before turning the goblet to pour its contents onto the stones of the courtyard. Everyone cheered.
As the Spring Queen, she was allotted a place at the high table, and she blushed prettily as she sat down next to Jalen. Rosa waited until everyone was settled before raising her own glass. "Let us begin," she said clearly, and a second round of cheering arose.
The feast at the Spring Festival was traditionally a rather light one, intended to celebrate the new crops rather than use up the last of the winter stores. Accordingly, the meal was composed mostly of salads and dishes of vegetables, including new potatoes roasted in an herb sauce and baby carrots cooked in spices from Fabul—in the past, they had used spices from Mysidia, but those were presently unavailable.
When the feast was over, there was dancing, and a fair bit of the castle's stores of wine was consumed by people eager for a celebration after a long and hungry winter. Kain danced with Elizabeth twice, and with Rosa once, and also with Caroline Darmin as the Spring Queen. Then he took a place at the sidelines, watching as Jalen scampered with the other boys too young to dance, but still old enough to get up to significant mischief. It was hard to believe that Jalen was already eleven years old. The years were flying past.
~*~
Kain finished the business for the day, and climbed to the top of his tower to bid farewell to the sun. The air had the pleasant crispness of early spring, still cold enough that his hands would start to ache if he stayed out too long, but there was the promise of warmth to come. In the slowly fading light, he could see the thin veneer of green that overlaid the fields beyond the city walls. People had planted this year as soon as the threat of frost had passed, and the black mages had spent most of the winter devising clever methods of protecting the young crops from weather damage. So far, their efforts appeared to be helpful—though no one had yet explained to Kain's satisfaction exactly how that minor earthquake had come to partially unseat a small section of the city walls. That problem, however, was easily rectified with stones and mortar.
The soft scrape of a shoe on the stairs behind him alerted him to Elizabeth's presence, moments before her hand settled gently on his back. Through the thin linen of his shirt, her palm was startlingly warm where it rested directly over the vivid scar Barbariccia had carved to mark him as hers. He repressed the shudder, and the urge to reach for his weapon, more easily now than he had when first they wed. Her touch didn't send icy tendrils of magic twining up his back to sink sharp hooks into his mind.
"The quarterly income from your estate in the north has arrived," she said quietly. "I would have to visit to be certain, but it seems like an honest accounting." Her hand trailed upward to curve over his shoulder.
Kain squeezed her hand briefly and turned to face her. "We shall go in the summer, perhaps," he suggested, "after the roads dry out."
"I would like that. It's cooler up there, and by then I'll be ready to leave the heat of the city." She took a step forward to lean against the crenellations, and narrowed her eyes. "What is that fuss going on at the gates?" she asked.
Kain had just heard the shouting himself, and he turned to check the castle gates. There was a hubbub involving two Dragoons—he recognized their distinctive dragon-headed helmets—and several smaller figures. After a moment one of the castle guards dashed away from the gate, moving as fast as he could in armour.
Kain calculated the distance from the top of his tower to the courtyard below, and reluctantly had to admit it was a bit far for a straight jump, especially as he was out of practice. All the paperwork of running a kingdom the size of Baron left him with little free time for training. In any event, it would not be fitting for the Lord Regent to go skipping down the castle in such a manner.
He descended the stairs of his tower rapidly and arrived in the great hall just as the Dragoons from the gate were arriving. They were accompanied by three of Rosa's ladies-in-waiting, and behind them came four castle guards bearing a litter. His heart thumped within his chest when he saw Rosa's pale hair and paler face against the stark white of the litter's cover. "What has happened?" he asked, and knew he had failed at keeping his voice even and calm.
One of the ladies-in-waiting, whose name Kain did not know—she was a third daughter of a minor branch of one of the Houses, and had been in service only a few weeks—wrung her hands hard enough to leave white marks where her fingers had been. "The Queen Regent collapsed," she stammered.
Kain bit down on the urge to make a scathing remark about not lacking eyes to see the obvious. "How did this come about?" he asked instead.
The lady-in-waiting stepped out of the way of the guards carrying the litter, who continued on toward the queen's chambers. Kain stepped aside with her, knowing that he could not follow Rosa.
"Her Majesty the Queen Regent had heard that there was illness near the docks," the lady-in-waiting said. "She said that she would go to see what good might be done and took three of us and the guards. I don't know why she collapsed, Lord Regent, I swear I don't."
Kain frowned. "What sort of illness?" he asked.
"I don't know the name of it, Lord Regent, I'm sorry. I'm not a healer." The lady-in-waiting wrung her hands harder. Kain wondered how she hadn't injured herself yet. "One of the women said a fever, I think, and they had black spots. And there was a terrible cough."
Kain was no healer either, but he knew enough to know that an illness wouldn't normally set in this firmly within hours. "Was this the first time Her Majesty the Queen Regent had gone?" he asked.
"Y-yes." She flinched. "She was using white magic to heal them."
"Thank you." Kain nodded dismissal, and the lady-in-waiting scurried away backwards, watching him warily.
Kain barely paid attention to her retreat, instead running through a mental catalogue of all the reports that had been delivered to him the prior evening in advance of the next day's council meeting. None of the abstracts had mentioned an illness, neither from Lady Nerul, the administrator who ran Baron City on behalf of the Crown, nor from Lord Savarin, the Minister of the Interior.
He left instructions with a page to be notified if the Queen Regent's condition should worsen or if she should require his presence, then made his way to his office, and read both reports in full. Both had theoretically been completed yesterday; neither mentioned an illness.
Elizabeth interrupted him just as he was preparing to move on to the other full reports, accompanied by servants who had brought dinner for both of them. She waited until the meal had been set out and the servants had gone, then closed the door firmly with the lone guard still standing outside.
Kain raised an eyebrow.
Elizabeth seated herself across from him and spread her napkin on her lap.
Kain unfolded his own napkin, and held his tongue. Since Elizabeth hadn't greeted him with some pleasantry or teasing about spending insufficient time with him, he was certain that she had a motive less apparent than a desire for dinner. He glanced surreptitiously at the reports he hadn't had a chance to read over yet, but he did not wish to be rude by ignoring her and working through dinner.
It occurred to him that she might have counted on exactly that point of courtesy.
The soup course went by in silence. Kain didn't require constant conversation, and normally neither did Elizabeth, but it was unusual for the silence between them to have this sort of stretched and expectant quality.
In the absence of servants, it was Elizabeth who set aside the soup dishes and uncovered the main course. Only after she had seated herself and taken up her cutlery again did she speak.
"The Queen Regent rests," she said, in a tone so devoid of inflection or emotion that it made Kain flinch. He and Elizabeth had never spoken of his feelings for Rosa—he had not seen the point—but on occasion, he thought he heard censure in her tone. "From what Mistress Salan said, it seems that Her Majesty drained her own strength in order to heal more people, though she had exhausted her reserves of magic."
A slight edge crept into the final part of the statement, and Kain realized her disapproval was directed not at himself, but at Rosa. He bit his tongue on his instinct to defend her, and inclined his head instead to indicate he had heard. "Did Mistress Salan indicate her opinion of Her Majesty's probable recovery?" Betimes he was astounded at how even he could make his voice through fury. What had Rosa been thinking, to risk herself that way?
"She said that, provided Her Majesty does not take ill, she should recover within a few days." Elizabeth cut meat with exacting precision.
"The lady-in-waiting—the one that wrings her hands—said that Her Majesty had gone to treat a disease near the docks. I cannot find any reference to such an illness in the reports."
Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "I had not heard anything, but then again, most people I am able to interact with would care about an illness only if it had struck them personally," she mused. "What are the symptoms?"
Kain summarized his conversation with the lady-in-waiting, and Elizabeth listened intently. "Well," she said when he was done, "we shall be on the lookout for it." Her eyes narrowed and she strummed her fingers against the desk as though she played her lap-harp, something she often did when she was thinking hard. "In truth I am surprised we have not had more illness, given the paucity of food this winter," she said. "We will be hard-pressed to resist one now, if it is contagious."
"We must find out why Her Majesty felt it necessary for her to go personally," Kain said, "and determine what other steps we can take. Her Majesty cannot be expected to treat everyone who falls ill."
Elizabeth nodded, and deliberately turned the conversation to lighter things. Kain participated in the banter with half his attention, but the rest was dwelling on an illness that Rosa had heard about but which had not shown up in his reports. The entire thing smelled of bait. Rosa's compassion and propensity for healing were legendary in Baron, particularly the city, where she had been known to go walking with her guards and distribute Cure and Esuna as necessary. The idea of someone using that against her made chills run up and down his spine.
When they had finished dinner and Elizabeth had gone, he read the remaining reports as quickly as he could, but found nothing particularly interesting or unusual. Mortality rates had been higher over the winter, to be expected with a weakened population, and people were hungry. In a few areas, there was unrest. Kain made a note to send soldiers to those areas; if necessary the soldiers could put down any unrest, but he was more interested in the conditions that caused it. He recognized the names of the owners of those estates, and they were not people he trusted to act fairly. If his suspicions were correct, the soldiers would also be able to redress grievances appropriately. He made a note to assign commanding officers personally; there was no sense in making a touchy situation worse, and he wanted men who would not consider it beneath their dignity, or their troops' dignity, to pitch in where help was needed instead of standing around watching.
It was late when he came to bed, and Elizabeth slept fitfully without the covers, having thrown them off at some point. Her skin felt uncomfortably warm when he drew the sheet back over her, and her breathing rasped faintly. Kain hesitated, tired in mind as well as body but concerned. Though their marriage had produced no heir as of yet, Elizabeth had always been quite healthy, rarely stricken with so much as a cold. For her to be feverish concerned him, yet if he did not get sufficient rest, he would not be ready to deal with the Council tomorrow.
He lay beside her and drifted into the light sleep of a soldier, alert for any disturbance.
When he woke, it was to a horrific racking cough that for a moment seemed to cast him backwards in time to his mother's death. He sprang out of bed, briefly entangling himself in the sheets, and it took a moment for him to realize that the coughing he heard came from Elizabeth, not from his mother. He shook his head to clear it, and rubbed his eyes. A moment later, practicality reasserted itself.
Elizabeth's skin, when he touched her cheek, was dry and hot. Kain took a moment to locate trousers and tunic, then hurried to the door. He did not open it, but instead spoke through it to the guards he knew would be waiting outside. "Please fetch Mistress Salan with haste," he ordered. "Lady Elizabeth has fallen ill." Doubtless it was an abuse of his position to demand the aid of the second most senior white mage in the kingdom ere the sun even rose, but let it be an abuse, then. He had taken very few of the benefits of his position in the last several years.
Kain knew himself to be of little use in a sickroom, but he could not abide doing nothing. He poured a glass of water from the pitcher the maid left every evening and tried to coax Elizabeth to drink it; she turned her head away and made some sound. Casting his mind back to his mother's sickbed, he found a clean handkerchief and soaked it to lay upon Elizabeth's brow, and another against her lips to give some moisture. Her restlessness soon dislodged them. Lacking any other inspiration, he paced, wondering what was taking so long.
Though the stars he could see through the windows had scarcely moved in their stately dance across the sky, it seemed forever before the guard tapped for entry. Rather than calling permission to enter, Kain crossed back to the door. "I would recommend that you not enter with Mistress Salan," he warned. "It would not do for others to become ill."
"Yes, sir." He heard the clank of armour—one, two—as the guards stepped back.
He opened the door with care, and then clenched his teeth to keep back the words that sought to escape. Mistress Salan had indeed come, and behind her was Rosa.
"Lord Regent," Mistress Salan said, curtseying politely.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," he said after he had made his bow to the Queen.
"Of course, Lord Regent," she said, with no trace of resentment or irritation. He wondered if she truly did not mind, or if she was simply too politic to let it show, and was irritated with himself for the suspicion.
He stepped back so that she might enter, and contented himself with a nod when Rosa followed her. Both women wore their hair bundled beneath cloth caps, and clean aprons over clothing hastily donned.
The initial pleasantries having been concluded, neither of them spared much attention for him; both advanced into the sleeping chamber where Elizabeth still lay. He hesitated in the doorway, unsure of how to help and annoyed with himself for hovering.
Mistress Salan and Rosa conferred with each other in quiet voices, the quick jargon of healers who knew their craft well. He was not close enough to make out their words—not that he would have understood them—but he did see Rosa nodding in response to some question. Mistress Salan rested her hand on Elizabeth's forehead and light flared in the familiar pattern of an Esuna spell. Rosa stepped away from the bed and came just close enough to him to use her own magic. Kain felt no different after the glow of Esuna faded, and was unsure if he was supposed to notice a difference.
"My thanks, Your Majesty," he said, not knowing what else to say.
"It is the same illness that I treated yesterday," she said. "I do not know how Lady Elizabeth came to fall ill, but my ladies-in-waiting who accompanied me yesterday have also contracted this disease. I thought it best to pre-emptively treat you and the Dragoons who guarded us."
"She went yesterday to confirm that you were well, after your return." Kain chose his words with great care.
"Of course." Rosa's face was unreadable, a thing to which he was unaccustomed. Neither she nor Cecil had ever been much good at concealing their thoughts or feelings. "This illness has been killing people in the docks for over a week, Kain."
"I checked last night, after your lady-in-waiting said where you had been. There is no mention of it in the reports on Baron City, or in Lord Savarin's report." Kain frowned. "Has it spread beyond the docks?"
"I do not know. I also do not know why it would not have been reported to us." Rosa's expression darkened. "They are not just peasants," she continued, the venom in her tone indicating her opinion of anyone who would voice such a thought. "They deserve proper treatment."
"I said nothing to indicate such a belief," Kain replied. "We will pursue the matter at the Council meeting."
Rosa grimaced, but said nothing further, as Mistress Salan rejoined them.
"Lord Regent," she said with a curtsey. "Esuna has healed the illness, but Lady Elizabeth would do well to rest for a few days."
"I am sure she will be quite content to take your recommendation," Kain said, as deadpan as he could manage.
"Do not mock me, husband," Elizabeth said, and he glanced over to see her sitting up on the edge of their bed.
Mistress Salan made a heroic effort at keeping a straight face. Rosa's lips twitched. Kain fixed his eyes on the wall hanging that hung between their windows, lest he start to laugh.
When he felt he could control both expression and voice adequately, he bowed to the healers. "I will see you at the Council meeting," he said to Rosa. "Mistress Salan, you have my thanks."
"It is my pleasure and privilege to assist, Lord Regent." She and Rosa departed, and Kain warily approached his wife.
"I feel much better," she said.
"I am glad. However, I think it would be wise of you to heed Mistress Salan's recommendation--at least for a day or two?" He knew his voice had slipped toward wheedling, and was annoyed at himself for it.
"You still don't know how widespread this plague is," Elizabeth pointed out, "and there are people who will talk to me who will still not speak to you, although I find their resistance idiotic and pointless."
"Elizabeth, you were scarcely exposed to this illness and it affected you greatly," he pointed out. Other words crowded his throat and battled for escape—you worried me, perhaps, or are you a healer now, to be certain of your own ability to remain healthy? He closed his lips firmly on them, for they would do no good and might in fact do quite a bit of harm.
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. "Point taken," she said with reluctance. "I will be reasonable."
He heard what she didn't say, as well as understood the way her gaze cut toward the door by which Rosa had departed. "Thank you," he said gravely, knowing better than to respond to the implication or revel in his minor victory. He did, however, go so far as to tug the sheets and blankets back over her. It concerned him that she did not chide him for fussing, but rather pulled the blankets up to her chin and burrowed beneath them. He lay on the bed beside her, trying not to think about the implications of Rosa's speedy arrival and her insistence on treating him as well.
They lay thus for some time, Elizabeth's hand loosely clasped around his. Neither spoke, but he watched her chest rise and fall, wondering just how close he had come to losing this—losing her.. He had not loved her when they wed, but he found he relied on her humor, her patience, her knowledge and competence. It was nothing like the hurricane force of what he had once felt for Rosa, but he did not think he wanted to subject himself to such again.
Outside, he heard the call of the guards as the sentries changed, marking dawn.
"Go," she said, and squeezed his hand. "You have things to do. Though perhaps you should ensure that your tunic and trousers match before you attend Council." The corner of her mouth twitched upward.
Kain glanced down at his brown trousers and grey tunic. "Forgive my faux pas. I was perhaps overly concerned with your welfare in preference to my appearance," he replied, rising to find better-suited clothing.
"I suppose your preference can be forgiven," she teased.
She was quiet while Kain prepared himself for the day, but stopped him as he moved for the door. "Kain."
"Yes?" He paused and looked back.
"I do not think I have ever heard of a disease that sets in so quickly," she said. "Perhaps you should ask Master Mertei and Mistress Salan what they know."
Kain frowned. "Why so?"
"I think it is not natural, and I think that they might have some idea as to how an unnatural disease might be combated," Elizabeth said.
Kain winced. "Thank you for pointing out the obvious, my lady," he said without sarcasm.
Elizabeth smiled. "You didn't sleep well," she replied obliquely.
"Elizabeth—" He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. She waited, though with a tense air of expectation that made him uneasy. "Pray, be mindful of your health," was all that he managed to say.
"I will," she promised.
Kain gave her a bow of respect before he departed for the Council meeting.
Rating: R (overall), G (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content. Other warnings may apply that are not listed here.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 4800 this chapter.
Beta:
celelorielThirteen years after Zeromus
"It is finally spring," Elizabeth said with a sigh of relief, looking out over the crowd of young girls weaving ribbons round a towering pole. Princess Sophia was among them, laughing and shouting with her friends. At eight, she was taller than most girls her age, showing signs of having more of Cecil's height and build than Rosa's more delicate frame.
"The winter seemed longer than usual," Kain agreed, leaning forward and bracing his arms against the stone wall that surrounded the little balcony outside their rooms. The stone was warm under his hands, baked by the sun that had come out in full force for the day. They could hardly have asked for more perfect weather for the Spring Festival.
"If the gods are kind, this year will be better," Rosa said. "I mislike the look of the thin faces I have seen everywhere."
"Yet we have survived," Elizabeth said, "and I, for one, anticipate eagerly a meal that consists of more than porridge."
"You did say you would be willing," Kain reminded her in a deliberately light tone.
"And as I recall, I also told you that I would try to be grateful that I had porridge instead of rebellion," Elizabeth retorted. "I never promised that I would succeed." For all her sharp words, her fingertips brushing against the back of his hand were gentle.
Kain laughed. "I am duly appreciative of your efforts," he assured her, turning his hand to clasp hers for a moment.
"I only hope that we have no further decisions of that nature to make," Rosa said.
"Yes, I think that the majority of the citizens of Baron are quite irked enough with you for now," Elizabeth said. "To hear some complain, you'd think they were being tortured all winter."
"I certainly heard no such complaints in my own home," Kain said aloud to no one in particular, albeit somewhat sarcastically.
"If you wish to consider hearing no such complaints," Elizabeth said, "you might take care with your words."
"I thought I was being very careful," Kain said with as much innocence as he could muster.
"I am sure that you did." Elizabeth changed the subject. "Look, they are done dancing. Your Majesty?"
"Yes." Rosa took up the basket of flowers that rested at her feet and watched as her daughter and the other girls of noble birth clustered under the balcony.
"Your Majesty!" Lord Darmin's eldest granddaughter, Caroline, offered a graceful curtsey. She had been chosen the Spring Queen this year and looked the part with an abundance of sunny curls and cornflower-blue eyes. "We humbly request the blessings of spring!"
Rosa lifted a handful of hyacinths from the basket and flung them over the balcony. Purple, white, and pink flowers cascaded down from the balcony into eager hands. More flowers followed, the first of spring: daffodils, crocus, tulips, in a brilliant rainbow of blossoms. The dancers collected armfuls of flowers and then darted off to scatter them around the courtyard. The tradition was supposed to invite the warm weather of spring to stay and bless the fields with generous crops. Kain only hoped that it would in fact serve its purpose this year. Baron would not survive another such harvest as the one last fall.
"It is good to see them laughing," Rosa said, watching as Sophia pelted her companions with handfuls of flowers.
With that, Kain could certainly agree. In addition to being a rather hungry winter, it had been a cold one, with horrific gales sweeping down out of the Mist Mountains and cutting through layers of wool and fur as though they did not exist.
"I am only glad we made it through the winter healthy," Elizabeth observed.
"The Spring Festival should be a time of joy," Rosa said. "Let us not dwell on dark days past. We should go down and join them."
With the ritual of the flower blessings complete, there was no reason for them to remain on the balcony, so they wove their way through the castle hallways to the courtyard below. Servants had already been at work for hours arranging the tables at which they would eat. Despite the intense cold and storms of the past winter, spring had come relatively early, and even now the first of the new vegetables were ready to eat. The feast would be light compared to previous years, but still a welcome change from the monotony of winter.
"Your Majesty!" Constance Darmin, formerly Constance Nerthic, greeted them with a curtsey. She and Matthew had wed a year after Kain and Elizabeth's own wedding. Their elder son, Evan, stood half-hidden behind his mother's skirts.
"How does the day find you?" Rosa asked her. Constance had always been one of her favourite ladies-in-waiting.
"I am well, thank you, Your Majesty. Elizabeth, it is good to see you." Constance offered Elizabeth a quick embrace, and then retrieved her younger son, Robert, from Matthew. He was only a few months old, and had his eyes closed against the bright sunlight.
They proceeded to the feast, with the ladies choosing to walk ahead with the children. Matthew dropped back to walk with Kain, and they continued in silence for some time.
The courtyard was anything but silent, being filled by the families of all the nobility in residence at Baron City. Kain looked about for the children and saw Sophia laughing and running with Caroline Darmin on the east side of the courtyard, while Jalen was talking quietly with a few of the boys his own age under the watchful eyes of his Dragoon guards. Both of them appeared to be safe and happy enough.
At Rosa's nod, he took Elizabeth's arm to escort her to the head table. Rosa walked unaccompanied. As they took their places at the head table, the others in the courtyard began to find places at the lower tables. The seasonal festivals were one of the few times when there was no assigned seating at a royal feast; apart from those who were to sit at the high table, each person took a place where she willed.
Caroline Darmin stood before the high table, and held aloft a goblet of wine. "May Bahamut and the Eidolons keep watch over us, and make this year a bountiful one," she said, before turning the goblet to pour its contents onto the stones of the courtyard. Everyone cheered.
As the Spring Queen, she was allotted a place at the high table, and she blushed prettily as she sat down next to Jalen. Rosa waited until everyone was settled before raising her own glass. "Let us begin," she said clearly, and a second round of cheering arose.
The feast at the Spring Festival was traditionally a rather light one, intended to celebrate the new crops rather than use up the last of the winter stores. Accordingly, the meal was composed mostly of salads and dishes of vegetables, including new potatoes roasted in an herb sauce and baby carrots cooked in spices from Fabul—in the past, they had used spices from Mysidia, but those were presently unavailable.
When the feast was over, there was dancing, and a fair bit of the castle's stores of wine was consumed by people eager for a celebration after a long and hungry winter. Kain danced with Elizabeth twice, and with Rosa once, and also with Caroline Darmin as the Spring Queen. Then he took a place at the sidelines, watching as Jalen scampered with the other boys too young to dance, but still old enough to get up to significant mischief. It was hard to believe that Jalen was already eleven years old. The years were flying past.
~*~
Kain finished the business for the day, and climbed to the top of his tower to bid farewell to the sun. The air had the pleasant crispness of early spring, still cold enough that his hands would start to ache if he stayed out too long, but there was the promise of warmth to come. In the slowly fading light, he could see the thin veneer of green that overlaid the fields beyond the city walls. People had planted this year as soon as the threat of frost had passed, and the black mages had spent most of the winter devising clever methods of protecting the young crops from weather damage. So far, their efforts appeared to be helpful—though no one had yet explained to Kain's satisfaction exactly how that minor earthquake had come to partially unseat a small section of the city walls. That problem, however, was easily rectified with stones and mortar.
The soft scrape of a shoe on the stairs behind him alerted him to Elizabeth's presence, moments before her hand settled gently on his back. Through the thin linen of his shirt, her palm was startlingly warm where it rested directly over the vivid scar Barbariccia had carved to mark him as hers. He repressed the shudder, and the urge to reach for his weapon, more easily now than he had when first they wed. Her touch didn't send icy tendrils of magic twining up his back to sink sharp hooks into his mind.
"The quarterly income from your estate in the north has arrived," she said quietly. "I would have to visit to be certain, but it seems like an honest accounting." Her hand trailed upward to curve over his shoulder.
Kain squeezed her hand briefly and turned to face her. "We shall go in the summer, perhaps," he suggested, "after the roads dry out."
"I would like that. It's cooler up there, and by then I'll be ready to leave the heat of the city." She took a step forward to lean against the crenellations, and narrowed her eyes. "What is that fuss going on at the gates?" she asked.
Kain had just heard the shouting himself, and he turned to check the castle gates. There was a hubbub involving two Dragoons—he recognized their distinctive dragon-headed helmets—and several smaller figures. After a moment one of the castle guards dashed away from the gate, moving as fast as he could in armour.
Kain calculated the distance from the top of his tower to the courtyard below, and reluctantly had to admit it was a bit far for a straight jump, especially as he was out of practice. All the paperwork of running a kingdom the size of Baron left him with little free time for training. In any event, it would not be fitting for the Lord Regent to go skipping down the castle in such a manner.
He descended the stairs of his tower rapidly and arrived in the great hall just as the Dragoons from the gate were arriving. They were accompanied by three of Rosa's ladies-in-waiting, and behind them came four castle guards bearing a litter. His heart thumped within his chest when he saw Rosa's pale hair and paler face against the stark white of the litter's cover. "What has happened?" he asked, and knew he had failed at keeping his voice even and calm.
One of the ladies-in-waiting, whose name Kain did not know—she was a third daughter of a minor branch of one of the Houses, and had been in service only a few weeks—wrung her hands hard enough to leave white marks where her fingers had been. "The Queen Regent collapsed," she stammered.
Kain bit down on the urge to make a scathing remark about not lacking eyes to see the obvious. "How did this come about?" he asked instead.
The lady-in-waiting stepped out of the way of the guards carrying the litter, who continued on toward the queen's chambers. Kain stepped aside with her, knowing that he could not follow Rosa.
"Her Majesty the Queen Regent had heard that there was illness near the docks," the lady-in-waiting said. "She said that she would go to see what good might be done and took three of us and the guards. I don't know why she collapsed, Lord Regent, I swear I don't."
Kain frowned. "What sort of illness?" he asked.
"I don't know the name of it, Lord Regent, I'm sorry. I'm not a healer." The lady-in-waiting wrung her hands harder. Kain wondered how she hadn't injured herself yet. "One of the women said a fever, I think, and they had black spots. And there was a terrible cough."
Kain was no healer either, but he knew enough to know that an illness wouldn't normally set in this firmly within hours. "Was this the first time Her Majesty the Queen Regent had gone?" he asked.
"Y-yes." She flinched. "She was using white magic to heal them."
"Thank you." Kain nodded dismissal, and the lady-in-waiting scurried away backwards, watching him warily.
Kain barely paid attention to her retreat, instead running through a mental catalogue of all the reports that had been delivered to him the prior evening in advance of the next day's council meeting. None of the abstracts had mentioned an illness, neither from Lady Nerul, the administrator who ran Baron City on behalf of the Crown, nor from Lord Savarin, the Minister of the Interior.
He left instructions with a page to be notified if the Queen Regent's condition should worsen or if she should require his presence, then made his way to his office, and read both reports in full. Both had theoretically been completed yesterday; neither mentioned an illness.
Elizabeth interrupted him just as he was preparing to move on to the other full reports, accompanied by servants who had brought dinner for both of them. She waited until the meal had been set out and the servants had gone, then closed the door firmly with the lone guard still standing outside.
Kain raised an eyebrow.
Elizabeth seated herself across from him and spread her napkin on her lap.
Kain unfolded his own napkin, and held his tongue. Since Elizabeth hadn't greeted him with some pleasantry or teasing about spending insufficient time with him, he was certain that she had a motive less apparent than a desire for dinner. He glanced surreptitiously at the reports he hadn't had a chance to read over yet, but he did not wish to be rude by ignoring her and working through dinner.
It occurred to him that she might have counted on exactly that point of courtesy.
The soup course went by in silence. Kain didn't require constant conversation, and normally neither did Elizabeth, but it was unusual for the silence between them to have this sort of stretched and expectant quality.
In the absence of servants, it was Elizabeth who set aside the soup dishes and uncovered the main course. Only after she had seated herself and taken up her cutlery again did she speak.
"The Queen Regent rests," she said, in a tone so devoid of inflection or emotion that it made Kain flinch. He and Elizabeth had never spoken of his feelings for Rosa—he had not seen the point—but on occasion, he thought he heard censure in her tone. "From what Mistress Salan said, it seems that Her Majesty drained her own strength in order to heal more people, though she had exhausted her reserves of magic."
A slight edge crept into the final part of the statement, and Kain realized her disapproval was directed not at himself, but at Rosa. He bit his tongue on his instinct to defend her, and inclined his head instead to indicate he had heard. "Did Mistress Salan indicate her opinion of Her Majesty's probable recovery?" Betimes he was astounded at how even he could make his voice through fury. What had Rosa been thinking, to risk herself that way?
"She said that, provided Her Majesty does not take ill, she should recover within a few days." Elizabeth cut meat with exacting precision.
"The lady-in-waiting—the one that wrings her hands—said that Her Majesty had gone to treat a disease near the docks. I cannot find any reference to such an illness in the reports."
Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "I had not heard anything, but then again, most people I am able to interact with would care about an illness only if it had struck them personally," she mused. "What are the symptoms?"
Kain summarized his conversation with the lady-in-waiting, and Elizabeth listened intently. "Well," she said when he was done, "we shall be on the lookout for it." Her eyes narrowed and she strummed her fingers against the desk as though she played her lap-harp, something she often did when she was thinking hard. "In truth I am surprised we have not had more illness, given the paucity of food this winter," she said. "We will be hard-pressed to resist one now, if it is contagious."
"We must find out why Her Majesty felt it necessary for her to go personally," Kain said, "and determine what other steps we can take. Her Majesty cannot be expected to treat everyone who falls ill."
Elizabeth nodded, and deliberately turned the conversation to lighter things. Kain participated in the banter with half his attention, but the rest was dwelling on an illness that Rosa had heard about but which had not shown up in his reports. The entire thing smelled of bait. Rosa's compassion and propensity for healing were legendary in Baron, particularly the city, where she had been known to go walking with her guards and distribute Cure and Esuna as necessary. The idea of someone using that against her made chills run up and down his spine.
When they had finished dinner and Elizabeth had gone, he read the remaining reports as quickly as he could, but found nothing particularly interesting or unusual. Mortality rates had been higher over the winter, to be expected with a weakened population, and people were hungry. In a few areas, there was unrest. Kain made a note to send soldiers to those areas; if necessary the soldiers could put down any unrest, but he was more interested in the conditions that caused it. He recognized the names of the owners of those estates, and they were not people he trusted to act fairly. If his suspicions were correct, the soldiers would also be able to redress grievances appropriately. He made a note to assign commanding officers personally; there was no sense in making a touchy situation worse, and he wanted men who would not consider it beneath their dignity, or their troops' dignity, to pitch in where help was needed instead of standing around watching.
It was late when he came to bed, and Elizabeth slept fitfully without the covers, having thrown them off at some point. Her skin felt uncomfortably warm when he drew the sheet back over her, and her breathing rasped faintly. Kain hesitated, tired in mind as well as body but concerned. Though their marriage had produced no heir as of yet, Elizabeth had always been quite healthy, rarely stricken with so much as a cold. For her to be feverish concerned him, yet if he did not get sufficient rest, he would not be ready to deal with the Council tomorrow.
He lay beside her and drifted into the light sleep of a soldier, alert for any disturbance.
When he woke, it was to a horrific racking cough that for a moment seemed to cast him backwards in time to his mother's death. He sprang out of bed, briefly entangling himself in the sheets, and it took a moment for him to realize that the coughing he heard came from Elizabeth, not from his mother. He shook his head to clear it, and rubbed his eyes. A moment later, practicality reasserted itself.
Elizabeth's skin, when he touched her cheek, was dry and hot. Kain took a moment to locate trousers and tunic, then hurried to the door. He did not open it, but instead spoke through it to the guards he knew would be waiting outside. "Please fetch Mistress Salan with haste," he ordered. "Lady Elizabeth has fallen ill." Doubtless it was an abuse of his position to demand the aid of the second most senior white mage in the kingdom ere the sun even rose, but let it be an abuse, then. He had taken very few of the benefits of his position in the last several years.
Kain knew himself to be of little use in a sickroom, but he could not abide doing nothing. He poured a glass of water from the pitcher the maid left every evening and tried to coax Elizabeth to drink it; she turned her head away and made some sound. Casting his mind back to his mother's sickbed, he found a clean handkerchief and soaked it to lay upon Elizabeth's brow, and another against her lips to give some moisture. Her restlessness soon dislodged them. Lacking any other inspiration, he paced, wondering what was taking so long.
Though the stars he could see through the windows had scarcely moved in their stately dance across the sky, it seemed forever before the guard tapped for entry. Rather than calling permission to enter, Kain crossed back to the door. "I would recommend that you not enter with Mistress Salan," he warned. "It would not do for others to become ill."
"Yes, sir." He heard the clank of armour—one, two—as the guards stepped back.
He opened the door with care, and then clenched his teeth to keep back the words that sought to escape. Mistress Salan had indeed come, and behind her was Rosa.
"Lord Regent," Mistress Salan said, curtseying politely.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," he said after he had made his bow to the Queen.
"Of course, Lord Regent," she said, with no trace of resentment or irritation. He wondered if she truly did not mind, or if she was simply too politic to let it show, and was irritated with himself for the suspicion.
He stepped back so that she might enter, and contented himself with a nod when Rosa followed her. Both women wore their hair bundled beneath cloth caps, and clean aprons over clothing hastily donned.
The initial pleasantries having been concluded, neither of them spared much attention for him; both advanced into the sleeping chamber where Elizabeth still lay. He hesitated in the doorway, unsure of how to help and annoyed with himself for hovering.
Mistress Salan and Rosa conferred with each other in quiet voices, the quick jargon of healers who knew their craft well. He was not close enough to make out their words—not that he would have understood them—but he did see Rosa nodding in response to some question. Mistress Salan rested her hand on Elizabeth's forehead and light flared in the familiar pattern of an Esuna spell. Rosa stepped away from the bed and came just close enough to him to use her own magic. Kain felt no different after the glow of Esuna faded, and was unsure if he was supposed to notice a difference.
"My thanks, Your Majesty," he said, not knowing what else to say.
"It is the same illness that I treated yesterday," she said. "I do not know how Lady Elizabeth came to fall ill, but my ladies-in-waiting who accompanied me yesterday have also contracted this disease. I thought it best to pre-emptively treat you and the Dragoons who guarded us."
"She went yesterday to confirm that you were well, after your return." Kain chose his words with great care.
"Of course." Rosa's face was unreadable, a thing to which he was unaccustomed. Neither she nor Cecil had ever been much good at concealing their thoughts or feelings. "This illness has been killing people in the docks for over a week, Kain."
"I checked last night, after your lady-in-waiting said where you had been. There is no mention of it in the reports on Baron City, or in Lord Savarin's report." Kain frowned. "Has it spread beyond the docks?"
"I do not know. I also do not know why it would not have been reported to us." Rosa's expression darkened. "They are not just peasants," she continued, the venom in her tone indicating her opinion of anyone who would voice such a thought. "They deserve proper treatment."
"I said nothing to indicate such a belief," Kain replied. "We will pursue the matter at the Council meeting."
Rosa grimaced, but said nothing further, as Mistress Salan rejoined them.
"Lord Regent," she said with a curtsey. "Esuna has healed the illness, but Lady Elizabeth would do well to rest for a few days."
"I am sure she will be quite content to take your recommendation," Kain said, as deadpan as he could manage.
"Do not mock me, husband," Elizabeth said, and he glanced over to see her sitting up on the edge of their bed.
Mistress Salan made a heroic effort at keeping a straight face. Rosa's lips twitched. Kain fixed his eyes on the wall hanging that hung between their windows, lest he start to laugh.
When he felt he could control both expression and voice adequately, he bowed to the healers. "I will see you at the Council meeting," he said to Rosa. "Mistress Salan, you have my thanks."
"It is my pleasure and privilege to assist, Lord Regent." She and Rosa departed, and Kain warily approached his wife.
"I feel much better," she said.
"I am glad. However, I think it would be wise of you to heed Mistress Salan's recommendation--at least for a day or two?" He knew his voice had slipped toward wheedling, and was annoyed at himself for it.
"You still don't know how widespread this plague is," Elizabeth pointed out, "and there are people who will talk to me who will still not speak to you, although I find their resistance idiotic and pointless."
"Elizabeth, you were scarcely exposed to this illness and it affected you greatly," he pointed out. Other words crowded his throat and battled for escape—you worried me, perhaps, or are you a healer now, to be certain of your own ability to remain healthy? He closed his lips firmly on them, for they would do no good and might in fact do quite a bit of harm.
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. "Point taken," she said with reluctance. "I will be reasonable."
He heard what she didn't say, as well as understood the way her gaze cut toward the door by which Rosa had departed. "Thank you," he said gravely, knowing better than to respond to the implication or revel in his minor victory. He did, however, go so far as to tug the sheets and blankets back over her. It concerned him that she did not chide him for fussing, but rather pulled the blankets up to her chin and burrowed beneath them. He lay on the bed beside her, trying not to think about the implications of Rosa's speedy arrival and her insistence on treating him as well.
They lay thus for some time, Elizabeth's hand loosely clasped around his. Neither spoke, but he watched her chest rise and fall, wondering just how close he had come to losing this—losing her.. He had not loved her when they wed, but he found he relied on her humor, her patience, her knowledge and competence. It was nothing like the hurricane force of what he had once felt for Rosa, but he did not think he wanted to subject himself to such again.
Outside, he heard the call of the guards as the sentries changed, marking dawn.
"Go," she said, and squeezed his hand. "You have things to do. Though perhaps you should ensure that your tunic and trousers match before you attend Council." The corner of her mouth twitched upward.
Kain glanced down at his brown trousers and grey tunic. "Forgive my faux pas. I was perhaps overly concerned with your welfare in preference to my appearance," he replied, rising to find better-suited clothing.
"I suppose your preference can be forgiven," she teased.
She was quiet while Kain prepared himself for the day, but stopped him as he moved for the door. "Kain."
"Yes?" He paused and looked back.
"I do not think I have ever heard of a disease that sets in so quickly," she said. "Perhaps you should ask Master Mertei and Mistress Salan what they know."
Kain frowned. "Why so?"
"I think it is not natural, and I think that they might have some idea as to how an unnatural disease might be combated," Elizabeth said.
Kain winced. "Thank you for pointing out the obvious, my lady," he said without sarcasm.
Elizabeth smiled. "You didn't sleep well," she replied obliquely.
"Elizabeth—" He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. She waited, though with a tense air of expectation that made him uneasy. "Pray, be mindful of your health," was all that he managed to say.
"I will," she promised.
Kain gave her a bow of respect before he departed for the Council meeting.