The Decorum of Warfare - Zarry - GIOD Sequel

nine.

May 1496 - Florence, Republic of Florence

The rumours and whispers got out. The mood in the Great Hall quickly shifted from cheerful to grim. What was a celebration of new life was now a preemptive funeral. Some people were even crying as if it was their loved one currently hanging onto the last threads of life.

Zayn wasn't letting himself cry. Not yet. He wasn't ready to settle for this, to just take the situation as it is and act like the love of his life is already dead and beyond saving. If only they would fucking let him into the room, that would've certainly been helpful.

"Papa?" Cassian's voice wakes Zayn out from his restless thinking.

"Yes, darling?" Zayn looks at him.

Cassian's turning a wooden horse around in his hands, his eyes turned down. "Why is Philippa with Daddy and we aren't?"

"We will be soon, love," Zayn says and kisses the top of Cassian's head, hugging him with one arm and not letting him go. "We will see him again and you will get to meet your new siblings. Are you excited."

Cassian shrugs. "I already have Philippa. Babies are not fun. I cannot play with them."

"You aren't wrong but now you will see how it is to be a big brother too," Zayn says. "Once they get bigger, you can all play together."

"I guess," Cassian says quietly. "Will Father die, Papa? I don't want him to."

Zayn takes a sharp breath, hiding the grief he's starting to feel. "Of course he won't. Your Father is very, very strong. He fought in two wars, he can get through this."

"Then why is everybody sad?" Cassian looks up again, completely flooring Zayn, leaving him lost for words.

"How about you go to your friend Cosimo?" Zayn ends up saying, at last, signalling at the boy playing alone near the empty fireplace. "I will ask if we can see Daddy, alright?"

Cassian just nods and hops off the sofa, running to the other boy. Zayn sighs deeply and gets up as well, going straight for the unattended pitcher of wine. He's losing all patience. He is giving them until he finished his wine and then he's marching down to their chambers and seeing Harry even if he has to slay the guards himself.

A moving figure catches his eyes in the doorway, walking slowly through the corridor. He freezes as he locks eyes with Nadežda, the strange Eastern European woman. She keeps the eye contact, not blinking until she is out of sight.

And then it clicks.

If anyone could help Harry right now, it's her. Zayn's not a fool. He knows that Harry is actually dying, even if he's trying to deny it and ignore it and hope for the best possible outcome. But Nadežda might be able to help. Zayn doesn't know a great deal about magic and old religion but he's been trying to read up on it ever since Harry's confession. It's nearly impossible to get actual stories out of Harry but if being King is useful one fucking time, it's to get any information in the world.

Zayn doesn't hesitate and he puts his wine glass back, walking quickly out of the room. Nadežda isn't actually walking when he reaches her. She is standing in an alcove, a stoic expression on her face.

"You wanted me to find you," Zayn states when he catches up to her. "Please tell me you can help my husband. I will give you anything in the world you could ask for."

Nadežda gives him a weak smile. "I have all I need, boy. It will cost you but you will not be paying me and you will certainly not be paying in gold. You will take a great risk."

"I do not care," Zayn says without hesitation. "I just cannot lose him. Tell me what to do."

"Go to your husband, take your son," Nadežda says. "I will come to you shortly. I need to gather my things."