[Final Fantasy IV] Every Light Casts a Shadow, Chapter Thirty-Two: The Conclave in Baron

[lassarina]

Pairings/Characters: Kain Highwind, plus cast
Rating: R (overall), PG (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: 5400 this chapter.
Beta: celeloriel

Twenty years after Zeromus

Kain dodged two maids, three pages, and at least two upper servants between the council room and his office. His office which was beginning to be surprisingly empty of papers, now that he had begun transferring them over to Jalen. He had turned eighteen three weeks prior, and his coronation was scheduled for the following day; immediately thereafter, a conclave was scheduled to begin, the first held in Baron since Cecil had taken the throne and likewise the first over which Jalen would preside.

Kain narrowly avoided a collision with a guard and at last reached the relative safety of his office, shutting the door carefully behind him. All of the guests had already arrived, which was contributing to the chaos in the castle, and he knew his presence would be required at the dinner Jalen was hosting. In truth, he was not much interested in attending. He and Jalen had already discussed the fact that his tenure as Regent and as advisor would end the moment the crown was placed on Jalen's head tomorrow. Kain intended only to observe during this conclave.

He wanted to spend the evening with Elizabeth, mostly because he feared there would be too few of those evenings remaining. Kain was candid enough to admit that he was not much beloved in Baron; Jalen would benefit from making certain that he had no say in any politics going forward. There were several ways to accomplish this; Kain hoped that Jalen had been influenced enough by Rosa and Cecil that he would not simply execute Kain at the end of the conclave, but he was prepared for that eventuality. He was, however, also prepared to be exiled, and he was not about to demand Elizabeth join him in exile if that was the case.

Part of those preparations awaited him in a locked desk drawer. Kain pulled out the neatly folded letter he had written to Jalen and stared at the folded parchment for a long moment. At last he lit the candle to melt wax for the seal, and stamped it with his personal device, the falcon of House Highwind and a dragon back-to-back. He left the letter sitting in the center of his now-clear desk, and pocketed his seal. The formal seal of Baron he left for Jalen, who would have need of it.

It seemed strange to leave this room where he had spent so much of the past twelve years; he would guess he had spent more time here than in his own home. He would not miss the work of running a kingdom, but there was a distinct finality to this, much like when he had stood before King Odin and chosen the Dragon Knights in defiance of the king's wishes.

He left the office, closing and locking the door behind him, but instead of returning to his quarters, he climbed to the top of the main castle. It was not as high as his tower, but it was high enough. The courtyard swarmed with servants and guards alike, hurrying to finish their work in the early autumn chill. At Rosa's urging, Jalen had held a lottery of residents of the kingdom of Baron—based upon the tax records in Lord Eltrin's keeping—to choose those who would attend the coronation. The resulting guest list had been immensely varied; naturally the heads of all the Houses were attending, but the other guests ranged from poor farmers to wealthy bankers. Kain's response had been to double the number of Dragon Knights who were guarding Jalen, which Rosa deemed an overreaction, but he trusted no one, and the military command was his, so the extra guards stayed.

He looked around the courtyard, automatically picking out those Dragoons and members of the castle guard who were on duty. From here, all looked to be in order; he trusted Matthew Darmin to have the Dragoons in proper shape, and the man who had replaced Baigan as captain of the castle guard had proven quite competent, but no report could replace the evidence of one's own eyes.

The sun was sinking behind the Mist Mountains, thin fingers of red light creeping in stripes across the courtyard. He wondered if King Odin had ever stood here, contemplating the paths his adopted sons had chosen. Cecil had always been Odin's choice to follow after him, and after twelve years of doing the work of a king, Kain could not find it in him to begrudge Odin that decision. He was an acceptable caretaker, given Rosa to balance out his less admirable tendencies, but he would not have been a good king.

"One last look as lord of the castle?" Rosa asked from behind him, as though his thoughts had summoned her here.

Kain shook his head. "I was only steward, never lord."

She came to stand beside him, and they both looked out at the kingdom that Jalen would officially rule alone come noon on the morrow.

"What will you do now?" she asked.

He dared not speak his darkest fears—not to her—and so he gave the safer answer. "Finally govern my own estates," he said. "Lord Nerthic will doubtless be pleased to have his workload lessened."

"You have managed them since you came back," Rosa protested.

"I signed papers, and visited once a year," Kain said. "The steward that Lord Nerthic appointed has done an admirable job of tending them, at least as far as I have been able to see. It remains to be seen if I can keep them successful." He leaned against the stone crenellation, ignoring the cold that seeped through tunic and trousers. "And you?"

"I will stay," Rosa said, and he had not expected anything different. "I want to work with Porom to set up her schools—I think the idea can be adapted for regular education, as well." She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Grandmother isn't doing well—I'd like to be with her, as much as I can, now that my services will not be needed for the kingdom."

Kain rested a hand on hers, a point of warm contact, nothing more. "Jalen will still need you," he said.

Rosa laughed. "I would have thought you'd say that if we'd done our jobs well enough, the opposite would be true." Her tone was not accusing, but the words stung nonetheless.

"In some ways that is true," Kain said. He let the silence spin out between them for a moment. "But we have done better, I think, in tandem than we ever would have done alone."

"True." Rosa stepped closer, close enough for him to smell her perfume. She still favored lilies and roses, after all these years. Neither of them moved for a long moment.

"I wonder if he'd be proud of us." There was no one else in the world Kain would trust enough to make that statement to; not even his own wife.

"I think so." She smiled, a little. "I know he would love to see this day. I think he'd be proud of the man Jalen is becoming."

Kain hoped that would still be true in a few days.

"Come on," Rosa said, and turned away. "We should go."

A sharp gust of wind buffeted them both, and Kain bared his teeth at it in a futile gesture. Barbariccia was long since dead, not stalking him on rooftops, but whenever the wind blew particularly hard he thought he might hear her laughter slicing through it.

He followed Rosa into the warmth of the castle, and into the uncertainty of his future.

~*~

Two days later, he waited outside the meeting room where Jalen planned to hold the majority of conclave business. Most of their traveling companions waited with him; not being inclined to stand on ceremony or arrive late for the sake of it—though Edge was apt to arrive late for other reasons, today he was punctual—they did not seem to mind waiting for Jalen to open the doors.

Palom and Porom had come to represent Mysidia. Gwendolyn, her brother Edward, the dwarf princess Luca, and Mei Jia were present in their capacity as heirs to their nations. Zhi was off somewhere, no doubt getting up to mischief with Sophia that would prevent either of them from sitting comfortably for weeks if their mothers learned of it. No one yet represented Damcyan, which still had not elevated a central ruler in the years since Edward von Muir's death. The head of the Epopts was present, deep in discussion with Porom about Crystal management, and the elders of Agart and Mythril had come. They were huddled with Giott; Kain thought he overheard several terms regarding blacksmithing. Truly, more than most of the previous conclaves, this was a meeting of all of the rulers of their world.

Kain tried not to think about the security hazards such an arrangement posed. Such was no longer his task. Yet it was as instinctive as breathing, and so he scrutinized the faces of the guards who stood nearby, and examined the entryway for signs of tampering. He found none. The itch between his shoulder blades refused to abate.

The doors swung open to a room much like the one in which they had conferred in Damcyan, so many years ago; each chair was draped in an appropriate banner for its occupant, with the heirs having seats behind their parents. Kain held his breath as he scanned the banners, but none were the gold falcon of Highwind, nor the banner of the Dragon Knights. Unlike the others, Jalen had not given him a seat at the table, which was as it should be. He let the others precede him into the room, and then took up a guardian position against the wall. Rosa took a seat with Sophia behind Jalen's empty chair and folded her hands in her lap; anyone who knew her well would see the tension in her fingers, but to a casual observer she was the picture of serenity. Then again, very few in this room would qualify as a casual observer who did not know Rosa well.

Kain examined the room, but again, he found no signs of anything amiss. He kept reminding himself that he was no longer Lord Regent, no longer Jalen's guardian, but the habits of a lifetime died hard.

Jalen arrived after everyone was seated, dressed in the colors of Baron. Kain wondered what statement that choice betokened.

"Thank you all for coming," Jalen said with an easy smile as he approached his seat at the head of the table. "And thank you for being kind enough to give me a list of issues to discuss ahead of time. I organized them according to the urgency you indicated, so we can approach the most meaningful issues first." He nodded to a servant, who presented him with a sheaf of papers, neatly stitched into miniature books. Jalen distributed these to everyone around the table and only then took his chair.

For the first time since his return to Baron, Kain was ignorant of the contents of such a meeting agenda. He remembered attending such meetings when Odin had been king, the better to learn how to be a good administrator, but those had been bloodless affairs, quiet negotiations and impersonal offers. The conclaves since Cecil had taken the throne were more like dinner with an extended family, or the way he understood such things to work, having been the last of his line for the entire length of his memory; there were arguments, good-natured insults, teasing, and shouting, but never quiet.

This seemed to be no exception. They had few border disputes with which to contend, most of the nations being either isolated by geographic barriers, but trade was ever a matter for discussion. Edge and Palom were shouting at each other like a pair of children, with Rydia periodically interjecting threats to call down the wrath of the Feymarch upon them both. She did not mean them—or rather, Kain was moderately certain she did not mean them—but the scene would not have been complete without it. Porom, meanwhile, was trying to have a more rational conversation with Jalen about governing access to the Devil's Road, which had been barred from both ends since Livius's coup. Kain let the arguments and rhetoric wash past him, less interested in the content of the negotiations and more in the feeling beneath them.

He saw nothing that truly concerned him. Perhaps he ought not have been surprised; the people at this table had been Baron's allies—and friends—for years. Yet there was some part of him that ever awaited betrayal, trained too well by Golbez's magic and Cagnazzo's imitation of King Odin, and rarely had he let himself consider the idea of taking the other rulers at face value.

He listened as Edge badgered, joked, and chattered his way to a trade agreement more favourable to Eblan than to Baron and knew it for a lesson rather than true advantage. Kain admired the fact that the King of Eblan could talk most people into nearly anything simply by refusing to let them get a word in edgewise, as evidenced by the goblins at Mysidia, and he knew that Edge could have wrangled more from Jalen had he chosen. Instead, though, Edge had taken it just far enough that Jalen would notice the pinch by the time the next Conclave came around, and trusted him to learn from it.

Kain wondered if his teaching would prove as effective.

He noticed Palom looking bored—something that boded ill for everyone at the table—and forced himself not to say anything to Jalen. It was no longer his place. Fortunately Jalen noticed as well, and rose to his feet, drawing everyone's attention immediately.

"We have been at this for many hours," he said, with an easy smile, "and there is no call to accomplish all in one day. Let us disperse, then, and continue on the morrow. What say you?"

Cecil had had such an easy way with people; Kain himself did not. He was glad Jalen had taken after Cecil in this.

Palom was first out of his chair, as anyone might have expected, and the room rapidly emptied until none were left save Kain, Rosa, and Jalen. Jalen rolled his head in a circle to loosen his muscles, and let out a long breath.

"That was exhausting," he said aloud. "Sophie, Gwen, Ed, and Mei Jia have no idea how lucky they are to just have to listen." He straightened and turned to face them, the confidence he had been wearing all day faltering. "How did I do?" he asked.

"How do you think you did?" Kain asked, before Rosa could soothe. She cut him a very disapproving look beneath her lashes. Jalen's attention flickered between the two of them, and he did not miss the interchange.

"Neither as well nor as badly as I could," he replied after a moment. "Uncle Edge got the better of me—how does he do that?"

"He keeps talking," Rosa said dryly, and made Jalen laugh.

"It wasn't too bad other than that, I don't think," Jalen said, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "But I also don't think Uncle Edge took as much advantage as he could have." There was a very slightly aggrieved edge to his tone. "It's not that I want Baron at a disadvantage, but—I don't want to be coddled."

"If he was coddling you, he'd have let you run roughshod over him," Kain said.

"You did well," Rosa said, resting a hand gently on Jalen's shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Jalen smiled weakly. "Just two more days of this to go!" he said, and even managed to make the cheer in his voice sound mostly unforced.

"You've some time before dinner, if you want to rest," Rosa told him, and there was more than the hint of a suggestion in it.

"I think I will," Jalen said, and nodded politely to both of them before departing the room.

Rosa sighed. "I am not ready for this," she said.

"You'd rather be Queen Regent forever?" Kain teased.

"Not that," she said, and shrugged, an irritated little movement of her shoulders. "I'm not ready for him to grow up. I—he's still so young."

"So we were we, when we joined the army," Kain said quietly.

"I know." Rosa shoved escaped blonde ringlets back into the fine silken mesh that contained her hair. "I'm his mother, Kain. You don't—" She paused, bit her lip, and reconsidered, though Kain knew what she had intended to say. "It is different, when it's your child," she said at last.

He had nothing to say to that, so he bowed and left the room, pretending he did not feel her wounded look at his back.

The rest of the conclave passed smoothly, and Kain could scarcely contain his pride in Jalen, who was rapidly gaining confidence in himself as the negotiations continued. He caught Edge's amused look more than once and could not bring himself to give more than a half-hearted glare in return, which only amused the King of Eblan more.

Kain could find no fault with the remaining agreements Jalen made, and he admired the way Jalen had made everyone else feel at ease. It was a skill Kain knew he lacked, and he was pleased to see that Jalen had acquired it. All in all, the conclave seemed to be a success.

He wished he felt better about that.

He stood in his chambers, looking around them as for the last time. He had lived his entire life here, save the three years of his service to Golbez and subsequent self-exile to Mount Ordeals. The wooden shutters on the windows bore his initials in an unobtrusive place, carved when he was thirteen and desperate to feel like he belonged in the castle. The case against the wall held his father's spear. Kain rested his hand on the polished wood, wondering if his father would approve of the job he had done as Regent. He had spent his entire life in the shadow of another; first—and still—his father, and then Cecil, and then Rosa and Jalen.

For every light there was a shadow cast, and he knew that what he had done had been needful, but if he had done it right, he might not live to see the results.

"Kain?" Elizabeth's voice was soft. "Are you ready for the dinner?"

He turned to face her, dressed in the colours of his House, and reached out to rest his hand against her cheek, careful of her cosmetics and her elaborately piled hair. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What is wrong?" she asked.

For a long moment, the words caught in his throat like one of Golbez's Silence spells. "If—I would like you to know that I—" Strange, he thought through the humiliation, how hard some words could be to say. "That I have loved you," he finished in a rush, the syllables nigh indistinguishable from each other. He had not expected it, and it was nothing like the desperation of his youthful passion for Rosa, but he had come to rely on her quiet presence and her easy competence, and it was important that she know it to be so.

"You say that as though you are saying goodbye." She leaned up to kiss him, rising onto her toes, and laid a fingertip on his lips. "I will hear no goodbyes," she said, so softly he scarcely heard her. "You made me a vow."

He caught her hand in his and squeezed, careful not to hurt. "I will not break it," he said, and that at least was easy. He had kept his sworn word to her for eleven years; he would not break it now. He tried not to think about the alternative.

"Then let us go down," she said.

He indulged himself so far as to walk hand-in-hand with her, rather than her hand upon his arm, which was unusual enough that it would cause talk, but he no longer cared. She walked to his right out of habit, leaving his spear-arm free, though he was unarmed. He had left Bahamut's Tooth behind, hanging on the wall in his quarters. A true sword was not meet for a formal dinner. Then, too, had he brought it he might feel the temptation to use it if what he feared came to pass, and he had thought it best to remove that temptation altogether.

The dining hall was filled to the brim with the nobility of Baron and those who had traveled from other lands with their monarchs. Kain and Elizabeth were seated at the high table, with all of the other monarchs—and, Kain noticed as he was pointed toward his seat, empty chairs on either side of Edge, one of which happened to also adjoin Jalen's chair. Rydia was nowhere to be seen.

The herald announced Jalen, who entered without further ceremony and moved quickly to his seat. He gestured for the guests to be seated, and they were. Then he stood silently, looking out over the room.

The nervousness that Kain had been desperately trying to ignore coiled sick and cold in his gut.

"We have two announcements to make," Jalen said into the profound silence.

Kain caught himself about to utter prayers to gods he was no longer certain he worshiped, and instead reached over to take Elizabeth's hand. She gave him a slight, questioning look, but said nothing, for Jalen was still speaking.

"We are aware," Jalen said, with a smile as thin as a blade, "that many of our subjects are nervous with a King so young and untried on the throne and only one heir." His blue eyes swept over the assembled guests, colder than Cecil's had ever been. Cecil had also used the royal we only when he absolutely had to do so. Dread started to compress into certainty. Kain concentrated on breathing.

"Therefore it pleases us to announce that Princess Gwendolyn of Mist and Eblan has accepted our proposal, and shall wed us in two years' time," Jalen continued, and the doors at the far end of the dining room were opened by attentive guards. Gwendolyn proceeded slowly down the aisle between the long tables, escorted by Rydia, who wore the formal robes of the High Summoner and the twisted silver circlet that betokened rulership of Mist. She escorted Gwendolyn to the seat beside Jalen, and then moved to the empty seat on Edge's other side.

"Upon her marriage," Rydia said, her voice clear and calm, "Princess Gwendolyn shall begin to administer Mist and its summoners directly, as has always been our plan for her. Given Mist's proximity to Baron, it seems wise." Her smile dared anyone to question her.

No one was so foolish.

"Princess Gwendolyn," Jalen said, raising a glass in toast. Kain was glad to hear that her name was shouted with enthusiasm; though it was a good match both politically and personally, he had feared that Baron would take it ill. If they had done so, they were covering with admirable acting skill.

Gwendolyn and Rydia were seated as the cheering faded away, and the knot of dread twisted tighter in Kain's stomach.

"Kain Highwind, Lord Regent of Baron, come before us," Jalen said.

Elizabeth smiled at him, though he saw nervousness in her eyes. Perhaps she had guessed what he feared. He squeezed her hand gently and rose. The path around the curved high table to stand in the center of the arc, and the center of attention, seemed to take forever. He dared not look at anyone. He would face this with dignity.

He knelt in fealty, and after bowing his head as was proper, he made himself look Jalen in the eyes. Jalen's expression gave nothing away; he had learned that well. Kain took a deep, steadying breath, and held his head high, waiting for the sentence of execution. It was what he would have done, if an unpopular advisor with documented treasonous acts to his name was no longer necessary.

"Captain Highwind," Jalen said, and Kain only barely held himself from flinching at the title. "You have served the realm since our grandfather's days."

Jalen paused, and seemed to expect an answer. Kain called on years of Dragon Knight discipline. "I have endeavoured to serve Baron well, Your Majesty," was all he could manage. Jalen's continued use of the royal we was terrifying.

Jalen nodded and looked over Kain's head, to what or whom Kain knew not. He stood at attention, and wished Jalen would simply finish it; the waiting was the worst part.

"In recognition of your years of service both as a Dragon Knight, and as Lord Regent, we bestow upon you the title of Lord, and add to House Highwind's holdings the estate of Highvale, which adjoins your existing lands. Further, we grant you the Order of the Dragon twice over, for your service." Kain couldn't help that his eyes widened; that conveyed two of the crimson tassels that were a badge of honour among the Dragoons. "In addition, as thanks for your efforts in restoring Baron to prosperity for us, we gift you with a personal airship, to be designed to your specifications by Engineer Pollendina," Jalen said.

Kain was absolutely certain he must have heard wrong. He was of no further practical use to Jalen now that he had the crown; at best he was a liability. Why would Jalen reward him with lands?

He realized that Jalen was looking at him expectantly, and he coughed to clear his throat. "Your Majesty is immensely generous," he said, and hoped his voice didn't sound as strained to everyone else as it did in his own ears. From Elizabeth's faintly arched eyebrow, it likely sounded worse. "I am grateful beyond words."

Jalen smiled, and it was his real smile, not the blade-thin threat he had worn when announcing Gwendolyn as his fiancée. "Rise, Lord Highwind," he said warmly.

Kain was still convinced he must have heard wrong—or worse, that he had but dreamed this moment and the hammer was yet to fall—but he pulled himself to his feet and made a formal bow to Jalen. The dining room was nearly silent.

Jalen raised his glass again. "To Lord and Lady Highwind," he said, and Kain thought he saw more than a hint of sharp satisfaction in Jalen's smile.

The chorus of responses was rather more dutiful than enthusiastic, save at the high table, where the people he had known now for half his life shouted with an enthusiasm entirely ill-befitting their respective ranks. He returned to his seat, where Elizabeth gave him a congratulatory kiss, which caused Edge to cheer loudly and Rydia to shush him. It was bewilderingly normal.

"Did you know?" Elizabeth murmured in his ear.

"I expected him to execute me," Kain said, keeping his voice low. It must not have been low enough, however, for Yang turned to him with an expression of shock.

"How could you say such a thing?" Yang whispered, careful not to let Yinyi overhear.

Kain drained half his glass of wine at a draught, knowing it was unwise and caring little. "Had I an advisor that all of my noblemen hated, who had performed acts of treason, and who had no powerful House to defend him, and that advisor had served his purpose, I might have done so," he pointed out.

From the look on Yang's face, he was not at all impressed with Kain's logic.

"In the first place," Elizabeth said crisply, "you would have the strength of House Darmin to defend you, for if I did not surely my brother would; and in the second place, you are not nearly as harsh as you would have us believe; and in the third place, Jalen loves you as he might a father. Do you truly think he would harm you?"

Kain knew not what to say, and thus he kept his lips sealed—something, he thought wryly, that he appeared to have finally learned.

"If ever Jalen were foolish enough to entertain such a notion, he would be quickly disabused of it," Yang said. "I am disappointed, Kain, that you thought so little of him."

Kain winced, but did not contest the statement.

"So if you're rich and titled now," Edge said, appearing behind him when Kain would have sworn on his father's grave that he was still in his own seat, "does that mean you're hosting the parties?"

"I imagine your own title as King trumps mine as Lord," Kain said as mildly as he could.

"So why did you look like Rydia cast Thundaga on you?" Edge asked, perching on the edge of Yang's chair. "Did you expect him to throw you out?"

"In a manner of speaking, that is precisely what he did," Kain said, seeing the logic in it suddenly.

Yang choked on his wine. "I beg your pardon?"

Kain chuckled. "You were correct, Yang; I gave him too little credit. Giving me a larger estate and a title to go with it ensures I will be safely in the north, seeing to my properties, thus neatly removing me from politics without having to appear bloodthirsty." He noticed Jalen watching them rather intently, and half-raised his glass in the new King's direction. Jalen smiled, and Kain was certain he had guessed right.

When the nine-course feast had given way to the ball that was to follow, Jalen and Gwendolyn led the first dance. Kain partnered Elizabeth, while Cid flailed limbs and cane alike around in a way that resembled the formal steps not at all in his efforts to dance with Rosa. Only among their friends, Kain thought, would a traitor and an engineer with grease still in his beard dance on the same floor as kings and queens from seven nations.

Jalen pulled him aside a few dances in, finding a quiet alcove where they could speak.

"Masterfully done, my King," Kain said, giving him a half-bow.

Jalen arched an eyebrow, already more adult than Kain could really comprehend. "What was?" he said. "Highvale will require quite a bit of work; it was one of Marek's, and the House has done so badly in managing it that I seized it to protect the villagers."

Kain shrugged. House Marek had hated him for years; they would be resentful, but it bothered him not. "You moved me off the board without killing me," he said. "I imagine it took you some time to figure out how."

Jalen's eyes turned cold and hard, and for one vertigo-inducing instant Kain was reminded of Golbez at his most cruel. "I was not going to kill you, Uncle Kain," he said with some degree of exasperation. "Do you not recall what we discussed in Mysidia?"

Jalen had forbidden him to ride to battle. "I recall," he said.

Jalen nodded. The silence stretched out for several long moments until he broke it with a sigh. "I confess it did take me quite some time to come up with a way to keep you safe," he said. "I will not lose you, as well."

"I can no longer advise you," Kain said carefully.

Jalen's grin flashed, bright and sharp. "Oh, but you can," he said. "House Highwind is now titled, and has the right to sit on the Council."

Kain stared at him in horror, and Jalen burst out laughing. "The look on your face, Uncle Kain," he said, looking more like his eighteen years again. "I don't expect you to come to every meeting; but the title was quite deliberate. I wanted a reason to be able to ask you for your counsel, should I require it. Yours and Mama's. You are a good team." He clapped Kain on the shoulder and departed, doubtless to plague Gwendolyn. Kain remained in the alcove, trying to sort through his feelings, but it was no good. He gave up on it and emerged, to find Elizabeth waiting for him.

"I would dance," she said, as though she had only just arrived to find him and not been standing there as long as he had stayed in the shadows, and for the first time that day, Kain felt a true smile spread across his face.

"As my lady desires," he said, and took her hand.