The Focus was what the meeting room was called, in Idgard. Alexandra almost ran across the rows of carpeted corridors that she had finally learnt to navigate through, after all those years. She turned to her left in the farthest aisle, just as she saw Nicholas' figure turning. Alexandra waited for a second. She heard the door open and then close with a thud.
Then she approached the large room with closed, wooden doors. Fanning it on both sides, were guards. Alexandra exhaled and waved them away.
After they left, she knelt down, just beyond the door and peeped in through the keyhole. The view was just perfect.
She could see Liam from behind, sitting by the long table, as Nicholas stood next to him, arms crossed. Alexandra barely breathed, for the fear of losing out on their words.
'Tell me what is the problem, clearly, Nicholas.' Liam finally asked, standing up. When he did, it felt as though the lighting had shifted to him. All the focus immediately fell on Liam: lifting off the younger one in a fraction of seconds. Even after all the years, Liam had not lost a single, tiny bit of his lustre. So much so that, despite the gravity of the situation, Alexandra couldn't help silently congratulating herself for the amazing husband she had found.
'Heir.' Nicholas corrected, his voice low and complex. A hundred emotions at once, all of them he was trying to hide. But the youngster did not know that it was impossible to hide from one's parents. Alexandra knew he was feeling wronged, disappointed and a tiny bit angry, more than the other emotions.
'Not yet.' Liam shook his head simply, as the light bounced of his refusing-to-gray dark hair and entered Alexandra's eyes, making her look away. But she still heard the next line. 'Heir, not yet.' Liam repeated. 'And not ever,' he continued, 'if you do not mend your deteriorating ways.'
Alexandra watched as palpable tension stretched between the two men. Nicholas' shoulder tightened. 'So, Re- I was right. You have plans. You have always favoured Ophelia. And now, you intend to rob me of my birthright.' He accused, as Alexandra frowned. What was the slip of tongue Nicholas had had? "Re- I". Somebody whose name started with Re... Unfortunately, that could mean a whole lot of people. They couldn't possibly go on persecuting everybody with those initials.
'No, Nicholas, you were wrong. But I, meanwhile, am right. You have found advisors. A person, or many people whose ill influence you are working upon. No problem, son.' Liam consoled, patting Nicholas on the arm. 'I will find out. For now, just tell me why you are provoking your sister.'
This time, Nicholas did not let the silence stretch. 'I am not provoking her. Neither have I got any advisors. As for my friend, you will never find him unless he shows himself. Oh, you certainly love to assume that you are the best in the whole world. And everybody - including Mother - hero-worships you. I think I would have done so too, had I not met better people, with not half as much conceit. And Ophelia is a spoiled brat. You, Father, have a good share in spoiling her.' A hand crawled to Alexandra's mouth. In her wildest of dreams, she wouldn't think of using the word, "brat". Even for the children of her enemies. Nicholas, was using it for her own sister?
'Spoiled brat.' Liam repeated, calmly. Either he hadn't heard, or he chose to ignore the part about conceit. 'You know, Nicholas, I think I will not beat around the bush anymore. Coming straight to the point, I know what you are trying to do. All these pointless arguments you've had with Ophelia, all the inciting things you say to her, it is a bit too evident that you are trying to make her lose her temper. So that, she does something: preferably something big. Like maiming you. So that, she falls in our eyes and we find sympathy for you. We favor you. No doubt, you haven't come up with this scheme yourself. The advisor - oh no - the friend, has suggested it. Today, when after coming so close to it, Ophelia dropped that dagger,' he continued, taking one step forward. Nicholas took one step back. 'You lost your temper. And in a fit of rage, you did the first thing that came to your mind. You, broke your sister's arm.' Liam finished, breathing a little heavily. 'Yes, how chivalrous! How utterly valorous!' He berated with heavy sarcasm. 'And you think, after all this, after knowing that you in bad company, I am going to announce you the Heir?'
Alexandra felt a surge of pride. That was better than what she could have done. The most plucky of men had fallen down before, in their attachment to their children, their inability to say "no" to them. Many had placed their sons above the throne. They had chosen their personal appeasement over their duty. Why, Liam's own father had done that at each step of life. The strongest men had lost before their descendants.
Not Liam. Not this time. It was difficult, it could result in a life-long of struggle. But this was another choice between the easy and the right.
They had to do what was right. Their unworthy son could not sit on the throne.
'You know very well, Father,' Nicholas hissed, 'that I can wrest power.'
Alexandra shook her slightly. That was not possible. And for the first time in many days, Liam laughed. A true, genuine, humorous laugh. Nicholas frowned as he did. Finally, Liam stopped and said, in a provoking tone, 'In that case, my son, you have not known me at all!'
Alexandra herself was drawn to laugh. Alright, yes, Liam was over sixty now. But she very well knew he was the same man. The man who had not lost a single time in his life.
Nicholas' frowned deepened. 'I do know you.' He tried to sound confident, but the undertone was nervous. 'It is time you stepped down, Father. Enjoy your old age.'
Liam laughed harder. Pushing his dark hair back and tilting his head. 'Old age.' He repeated. 'So, young Nicholas, I would ask you to pull out your sword. Let us decide this right away. If I lose this once, I will accept my old age. And, step down.' He declared. And Nicholas, because he was not foolish, looked suspicious.
For a whole minute he didn't move, and didn't speak, and didn't even breathe. When it became too long a silence, without his father taking the words back, Nicholas deemed it fit to speak.
'A duel? Only one duel? And if I win...'
'I will step down, pass the throne to you. And accept your say as the final say for the rest of my life. Yes.' Liam repeated. Alexandra knew what he was doing. Alexandra knew he was going to break their son's swelled up pride. Finally, after so many years, it had become possible for her to read Liam's mind. Not as effortlessly as he read hers, and not as confidently either. But well enough to say, with conviction, what his true intentions were.
She pushed closer to the keyhole and stared harder. Nicholas' hand was on the sheath of his sword. 'Go on, young man. Pull it out. Wrest power from me. You are certainly not afraid of your sixty three year old father, are you now?' Liam taunted. Nicholas still didn't move. 'Or maybe then... I will have to begin.' Liam shrugged and before Alexandra could even blink, he unsheathed the sword strapped to his belt. Nicholas jerked out of his stupor and extracted his own weapon, from talking in low dangerous tones, the two men launched into fierce combat.
Six minutes.
Alexandra counted six minutes, was all it took for all the furniture in the room, other than the long, polished wooden table, to be upturned by their violent match. The two hands that swung the swords were just blurs before Alexandra as she sat pushed against the wooden door. In the twenty years of scattered practice, Alexandra's skills had become slightly rusty. That was the not the case with Liam. He was just as agile, just as speedy and dangerous. It only took two minutes more for Alexandra to hear the conclusive clatter of a sword.
The panting father and son, standing chest to chest. Nicholas pushed to the wall, dark, burning hatred in his eyes. Liam with one arm on his son's neck, pinning him back, his second arm holding the sword menacingly close to Nicholas' gut.
They stared into each other's eyes. 'What should I do now, Nicholas? Kill you?' Liam asked, in a low whisper. 'What would you do, if you had me at your mercy?' He stopped for a second, all them knowing what Nicholas would do. None of them wanting to voice it out. 'And that, my son,' Liam nodded, loosening his hold and dropping his sword arm down by his side. 'Is the difference between us.'
Without a word, Nicholas, who looked like he was combusting before their very eyes out of humiliation, walked across the length of the room, to the other gate of the Focus.
They had nothing more left to talk of.
He had just drawn an arm to open it, when Liam called out. 'Remember it, Nick. Remember this the next time you feel your confidence turning into over-confidence. And drop your current friends, while there is still time. Learn to respect people: man or woman, younger or older. Or next time,' he warned, 'next time, my sword will certainly see your blood.'
Nicholas didn't move at all, but he had certainly heard. He pulled the door open and left, slamming it shut brutally behind himself as Alexandra melted on the floor. She knew this was for the best. But how did Liam's voice not break when he said that last sentence? How much had he hardened himself? Finding his own son turn his enemy, how could he bring himself to even think straight? Alexandra pushed herself up, looking through the keyhole for one last time.
In the bright, summer sun, she could see Liam stand there, the sword still in his hand. His eyes were fixed on the door Nicholas had left through. One, single, sparkling drop of tear ran down his left cheek. The strongest man Alexandra knew, the bravest heart she had seen: despite doing so much for everybody else, despite never asking for anything in return, in the end, he was once again alone with his anguish. Having a true family, had not change anything for Liam. He had had to tackle his emotions and hide his plights single-handedly before. And even now, with a low sniff and several rapid blinks, he pushed the tears back. He raised his left hand and wiped the one, particularly rebellious drop, away.
Alexandra wanted to push the door open and walk in. Hold his hand and tell him that she was with him, no matter what. But she could barely move. The one portrayal of humble humaneness from Liam had almost stunned her. It had proved that no matter how much a person went through, how much ever they suffered: they couldn't run out of tears. They couldn't use all of them up. Life was this. The stronger you were, the more it battered you.
What suffering had her three children faced? What trials and tests had they had? If circumstances made a person a villain, that was understandable. What excuse did Nicholas have? Where was his story, his blend of victories and defeats and challenges? He had no identity, not yet.
Liam uprooted himself from next to the wall. He walked forward at a smart pace, tossing his sword on the polished wooden table. Alexandra was so engrossed in watching what he would do that she didn't register when he stopped right at the other end of the wooden gate.
With just a moment to spare, Alexandra straightened herself, lifting her weight off the door. Just as she did, Liam pulled the door open from inside.
He apparently knew Alexandra had been there all the time. As soon as he opened the door, Liam looked down. He bent low, put a hand on both of Alexandra's arms and gently lifted her up.
'I'm sorry.' He whispered, looking so earnest and desolate that Alexandra couldn't stop her eyebrows from contracting together in a don't blame yourself expression. 'I killed Nick.' He continued. 'He won't ever return, Alexandra. The Nicholas we knew is gone.'
She knew. She so well knew. But Alexandra hadn't ever been able to control or mask her emotions. As the weight of the realization settled on her, she broke down completely. Into silent, unrestrained tears. 'It's my fault, Liam. It's all my fault!' She cried, guilt churning in her. 'Broken promises are curses. I broke my mother's promise. I used the pocket knife on Sabel. And - and now,' she sniffed, 'this is the price. And I have dragged you into it. I have dragged everybody into it.' Alexandra knew it was useless to own up now. She knew there was nothing they could do for it. But she knew having secrets was no good. Maybe there would come a time when she would have no choice but to confess, and the harm it would do then... no, it was only better she bared herself now.
'You have not dragged me anywhere, Alexandra. Perhaps it was your curse. Perhaps it...' He stopped for a second, 'is the reason for whatever is happening. But I have come along willingly. I love you. And that means that I will fondly accept even your curses. Don't cry, my Queen, this is just another test. And we can't afford to fail, because Idgard's future is at stake.' Liam consoled, cupping Alexandra's face in his hands. There they were again. He was having to support Alexandra once again. Like his own emotions came second. Like Liam, himself, came second. 'For now, all I can say, is that we do have a Heir. And it is, Ophelia.'
It took her a minute to register those words. And when Alexandra finally did, she knew he was not joking. Twenty two years ago, the waves of destiny had dropped them on the shore. And now, they were advancing again, this time bigger, more dangerous. And with that single sentence, Alexandra felt the waves crash upon her and Liam. At once, instantly. And she knew it was a different journey now. Liam was the person who had made her the first female Secret Agent.
He was the person who was going to make the first female Heir sit on the throne of her Homeland. Ophelia, would be their next polished, radiant gem.