Peace at Last
Dressed in rags, Manon was still a queen.
Jacques had a fist clenched around his heart the entire wagon ride down from the palace. Desperately following the message that had been delivered from Manon, asking for him and also a selection of guards and soldiers.
She had found Firmin.
Erec and Nina were staying behind, though they had offered to come with him. Nina in particular was a skilled warrior and, though she was technically retired, a paladin in her own right. She would have been an asset to him.
But Firmin was their problem.
They were going to deal with him once and for all.
Knowing that his wife had been found - or rather, that she had freed herself - lit a fire under him. He left the palace before the soldiers were even ready so he could go meet her.
And he found her now wearing a dress that definitely wasn't hers - a peasant's dress - talking to a group of strong, working men that were all watching her with heavy frowns. Two city guard were stationed nearby, both of them clearly nervous at suddenly being expected to be part of the royal guard, even if only temporarily. There was also a woman and her young son a few steps from the others. She was watching Manon with a worried expression, gnawing on her bottom lip, but remained out of the way of the men that Manon was giving orders to.
Even without the trappings of a queen, Manon was still regal. It was in her demeanor, her confidence, and the power with which she spoke.
More than that, though, she was unharmed.
For a second, that was all Jacques could think as he stood there, watching her give orders like a general, her peasant dress completely at odds with the pretty jewelry she was still wearing from the party, though her hair was down and messy.
That was when it really hit him.
Why was she wearing someone else's dress? What happened to her that made a stranger's dress a necessity?
"Manon!"
She whipped around at his call as he walked quickly her way. A smile broke out over her face, bright and true, with no concealed pain, and it eased his worries.
Somewhat.
"Are you okay?" He asked, grabbing and running his hands down her arms, his eyes down her body, checking for some sign of injury or hurt.
"I'm fine," she reassured him, chuckling. "My new friend Miriam here was kind enough to lend me an old dress of hers as well as share her food with me."
She had gestured to the woman standing aside with her son. She looked surprised and confused to be the focus of two royals, but at the last minute she remembered to dip into a quick, clumsy curtsy that Jacques met with an incline of his head before focusing back on his wife.
"What happened to your dress?"
"Same thing that happened to my shoes," she poked one foot forward, showing him the well worn leather boots that were definitely not hers. "Had to get rid of them to make running easier."
Something eased in his chest. That was probably the best explanation for why his wife needed to be naked.
Though part of him remained angry that it was necessary in the first place.
"Here." Convinced now that she wasn't harmed, he pulled off his jacket and slipped it around her shoulders. She smiled as he pulled it tight.
They were in public. There was only so much they could do. But the look her gave her, burning and filled with love, promised her that he was going to ravish her properly the moment they were alone again.
The silent promise made her smile and blush, pushing her hair behind her ear.
"What happened?" He asked, looking over her shoulder to the group of men that were all very unsubtly staring in various directions in an effort to give them privacy.
Manon quickly filled him in on what had happened after they were separated in the palace. He frowned when she described being taken by Firmin. It was hardly surprise, but the simple way she described him bashing her head into the stone before taking her unconscious body off somewhere unknown briefly made him see red as his heartbeat rushed in his ears.
"Jacques? You okay?"
"Yeah," he assured her, lying but trying to get himself back under control. "Sorry. You were saying something about a box?"
"Ugh, the box." She rolled her eyes. "So undignified. Couldn't even give me a proper coffin or something to lay me out in. It was humiliating, I tell you."
She was making a joke of it, but he was having trouble finding the humor.
"Apparently, the flood tunnels below were built after a really bad rainy season some time ago, but they've only been used a handful of times since."
She was continuing despite the roaring in his brain that demanded he take Firmin's head for this and as well as all of his other crimes. Before he could hurt anyone else that Jacques loved.
"Luckily, there's only one way in or out. The tunnel that he had me in originally is actually the exit tunnel that eventually lets out back into the river for when they have to drain it. So, unless he wants to just drown himself in a miles long underground river, he's stuck there. Honestly, I won't be disappointed if he decides to do the noble thing and take himself out for us."
Jacques would do it. Happily. He wanted to see Firmin's blood on the stone. He wanted to look into that monster's eyes and know that he was dead and gone. No longer a problem. Know that he could sleep peacefully the rest of his life and never have to surrender another thought to him.
"These kind gentlemen live on this block," Manon continued, unaware of Jacques' violent inner thoughts. "They've very graciously agreed to help us. They've already moved all the stored crates in the warehouse to the sides and, when the soldiers get here, they're going to do the same to the crates in the basement. There are a lot, but there's a lot of spaces to hide in them because they're not pushed together. So they'll do that and guard the lift and, in the meanwhile, we are going in with the soldiers to hunt down Firmin wherever he may be hiding."
"We?" Jacques repeated, a cold note in his voice. "No, we are not going down there. I will go make sure he is dead, but you are staying out here."
"No."
"No?" He glared at her, angered by her immediate refusal. "We had an agreement. You promised that you weren't going to put yourself in dangerous situations anymore."
"And I won't," she promised before leveling an equally powerful glare at him. "But if you think I'm not going to see him ended, you're wrong."
"Manon-"
"You didn't hear the things he said to me down there. You have no idea how much strength it took to get myself out of there. I kept my promise to you. And I will continue to keep my promise to you. But I am going to see him dead."
Jacques was surprised by the vehemence in her voice. It was such a harsh contrast to her previous, joking tone when she was talking about the box.
"What did he say to you?" He asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know.
A thought that was only confirmed when she got a faraway look in her eyes before shaking her head, refusing to answer.
"Nothing that deserves repeating. I won't stop you from going down there, Jacques, though I could offer you the same arguments about keeping yourself safe as you give me. So, allow me the same courtesy in return."
"Manon..."
"Our soldiers will be with us. We'll both be armed. Firmin Didier is never going to live to the see the sunlight again. He will die down there and we are going to watch him do it."
"All right."
Manon had clearly been ready for further protest from him, she wasn't prepared for him to quietly surrender to the demand.
"Really?" She asked.
He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing them gently. "You're right. We'll be surrounded by soldiers and you'll have me. I won't deny you the right to see him pay for what he's done."
Neither of them even pretended that they were going to just capture him anymore.
He had to die. For all he had done. For all he could potentially do. There was no point in going through with the performance of a trial when the judgment was a foregone conclusion. And now he was trapped like a rat.
As the last of the crates in the warehouse were moved out of the way - or out of the building entirely - the soldiers that had followed Jacques down finally arrived. Since she had coordinated the workers, he coordinated them. Passing along her plan and accepting his and Manon's weapons that Amorette brought down with her.
With the strongest paladin among their number, even the small chance that Firmin might escape was narrowed to nothing.
Manon strapped her daggers to her thighs and arms. Not even pretending anymore that she didn't know how to use them. There was no point keeping it to herself. Not when everyone already knew that she was empowered and that was a much bigger secret. And not when her greatest enemy, the only one left, was waiting for death down below.
He had to know that he wasn't going to emerge alive. He also probably knew this was his last chance to take as many of them with him as he could.
Amorette moved to the head of the soldiers, Jacques and Manon right behind her. She was their initial shield while the soldiers brought up the rear. They were going to create a human wall, preventing Firmin from getting around them as they moved out of the crowded basement and into the vast, empty reservoir below. And finally, behind them, were the men of the area who were going to make sure that all the crates were pushed together and eliminate any hiding places for the disgraced general while being protected by the soldiers.
Since they didn't know if Firmin was going to be in the storage basement or the flood tunnel, they were going to clear the first, then the second. And if they still didn't find him, they would go down the tunnel he had hidden Manon last.
Regardless, they were going to find him.
Amorette was the one who opened the door from the warehouse down into the basement. Just in case Firmin was there.
However, the door only opened onto empty space. The lift was still on the ground. Amorette looked around as Manon gestured for the man by the lift button to call it up. Part of her fully expecting it not to respond. It had been, after all, ten years since anyone had tried to use it.
To her surprise, though, it worked flawlessly. Rising up with a grinding noise that was definitely not good for the mechanism, but it rose. She supposed that Firmin had needed to operate it to get herself and her box down there.
Jacques led the way in front of Manon, keeping himself between her and the dark room below as they all gathered on the lift. The trip down was much smoother and, the moment they hit the ground, some of the men from the area rushed off to bring up the lighting.
Like the hall Manon had woken in, this room was being lit by gas lamps. It appeared that Firmin must have got those working himself so he could see. Though they were dim, they still cast enough illumination for them to see.
Thus began the long, slow process of clearing the basement storage. The crates were all pushed into the far corners, then pushed against each other. Eliminating any free space, all the while everyone looked for the disgraced general.
But he was nowhere in sight and, by the time they had most of the crates stacked up and out of the way, it was clear that he wasn't in the room. The lamps had been brightened considerably and so now, Manon could clearly see the small, simple door leading to the reservoir.
"We'll have to remind Erec to get someone out here to service this. Just in case," Jacques said, standing beside Manon as the two of them stared at the door.
Amorette was helping move the largest, heaviest crates out of the way. They were only waiting for her and for the men to finish their job before moving in. At this point, it was clear that Firmin wasn't here, but they were still being methodical and exacting. They weren't taking any risk, no matter how small, that he might escape notice.
Besides, Jacques actually didn't mind the wait.
He wanted the endless minutes to tick by. He wanted Firmin, in the reservoir below, to hear them moving the crates and know that they were coming after him. To feel the slow march of time and know that he was going to be dead before the day was out.
"It's curious," he said softly.
"What is?" Manon asked, checking over her shoulder at the progress being made. Amorette waved and held up two fingers across the room, indicating she only had that many crates left to move and she would be coming over.
"How much more I understand the more I experience."
"Hm?" Manon turned back to her husband, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"I used to wonder how my mother could lose her sanity, but knowing the pain that she did, seeing your father go through something similar, made me understand just how much love and pain can drive you mad. I used to wonder why the councilmen were so adamant about retaining their power, but having power, I can understand why you would want it."
"I suppose..."
"And I used to wonder about Firmin," he finished, his voice growling in anger. "About why he did the things he did. How he could possibly be such an unfeeling, inhuman thing. Unnatural in the truest sense of the word."
"Men like Firmin can't be understood. We just simply don't have the ability to completely lose what makes us human." Manon looked forward at the door. "I think that's what they call being born evil."
"See, that's the strange thing." Jacques gave her a look. "I do understand him."
"What?"
"I understand exactly what's driving him. This dangerous obsession. I feel it."
"You do not."
"I do. Maybe not exactly the way he does, but I feel it all the same." Jacques' hand went to the short dagger at his side. He didn't plan on using it. He preferred his fists, but it was still there just in case he needed it. "Because I'm obsessed with seeing him dead. I want it more than I want my next breath and standing here waiting is making me crazy with delicious, wicked anticipation."
"Jacques?"
"I want to see him bleed. I want to look in his eyes as he dies to see if there's even light in there to leave when he goes, or if he truly is a soulless bastard. I'm eager for it." He gave her a look that surprised her because it wasn't angry or determined or even obsessed like he claimed.
It was frightened.
"Manon, am I like him?" He asked, whispering the words as though afraid if he said them out loud, he would bring that truth into reality. "Am I just as demented as he is? As my mother is? I have their blood in my veins; am I corrupt as they are? Am I tainted? Worse than that. What if I pass it onto our children? What if our child, as you say, is born evil?"
"Nonsense," Manon said immediately.
"Your father went crazy too."
"He didn't go crazy, he was lost to grief. Like your mother was. That can happen to all of us. Your blood is not tainted. And even if it is, mine certainly is not. Our child shall be fine. Besides," a wicked grin pulled at her lips, "you're not the only one obsessed with seeing him dead."
That was definitely not like his usually upbeat wife. Mercy was her preferred stance. Partially because she was a kind person, but also because she was trying to prove herself as not an evil, soulless unnatural bent on destroying everything.
"What exactly did he say to you?" He asked again, more concerned now.
The hand she had used to grab the hilt of one of her daggers shook with the strength of her grip. That alone told him how bad it was because she still refused to speak the words.
"Ready!" Amorette said suddenly, rushing up from behind them. "Sorry. One of the crates is leaking. Not sure what's in it, but it smells sweet and rotten. Someone really should get down here and clean all this out."
"I'll be sure to mention it to Erec," Jacques assured her as she skipped to the wall.
"Ready?" She asked, smiling brightly.
"Do it," Manon ordered, her voice tight.
Once again, Amorette led the way through. She burst open the door and charged through onto the small platform, looking around. Nothing came rushing towards her in the dim darkness. She looked around and, when nothing happened for a few seconds, she waved them forward.
Jacques proceeded Manon as Amorette hopped down the stone steps. The two of them stood on the platform, looking out over the echoing room. It was immediately filled with the sounds of the soldiers that came in after them, drowning out any potential sounds Firmin might make. They wouldn't be able to track him at all.
But the advantages of having their soldiers well outweighed that loss. The armed and armored men climbed down the stairs and began to fan out against the wall, starting to form the human wall that would sweep the large chamber.
"Manon, is that your dress?"
Jacques' soft question pulled her attention from the stone chamber and down. Right there, on the edge of the platform opposite the stairs, folded up neatly beside the door, was not only her dress but also her boots, set upright, side by side, next to it.
"I'm probably going to burn that," she said, glaring at the garment. Firmin moved it there. A sign that he was still in this room. It felt oddly threatening.
"Let's get started," Jacques said, turning his back on his wife's clothes.
He took the stairs the proper way, calling out orders to the soldiers as he went. Amorette was just kind of floating around, doing her own thing. Completely unconcerned about any potential threat Firmin might be.
Manon watched them all for a moment, standing on the platform, looking out over them. The burning hole of acid in her gut that was her nerves and determination wasn't betrayed on her calm face. She was uneasy and determined.
The echoing room seemed no less threatening now than it had only a few hours ago, despite no longer being alone. She had told everyone that Firmin had a long dagger, and they all came equipped with either swords or spears, giving them the reach advantage.
But the massive chamber was so threatening, it almost didn't feel like enough. If Manon wasn't determined to see Firmin's body, she would have just suggested flooding the chamber by diverting the river and letting him drown.
But there was a chance that he wouldn't. That he'd find safety on the platform or by clinging to the large columns. She wouldn't be easy until she knew he was dead.
Turning, she followed Jacques down the steps.
She stood with him behind the line of soldiers. Taking full advantage of their protection as the slow moving line moved forward. Warping around the columns as they approached them, but never truly breaking the line. Searching for Firmin.
They were about a third of the way through the room when they heard the first cry of pain. It was immediately followed by shouts from the soldiers. Then another cry of pain.
She and Jacques immediately took off running.
So did Firmin.
He had been waiting behind a column. As the soldiers came around, he had stabbed one before he could even see him, grabbed his spear, turned and stabbed the second, and now he was fleeing into the room away from them.
"Circle around him!" Manon ordered before the line could break completely as everyone started to give chase now that he was found.
But he was also now better armed. And it couldn't be forgotten that he had climbed to the top ranked position in an army that gave promotions based on skill. He wouldn't have been made general just for being cold and cruel.
He was a damn good fighter. And his strategy was a good one.
Instead of fighting against the line of soldiers, he had surprised them, gotten a better weapon, then run away. And as he ran, he forced his pursuers to run. Naturally, some of them were faster than the others and so they closed the gap at different times.
The moment one ran ahead, Firmin turned, struck him down, then ran again. Gaining another lead, separating another target from the crowd, then repeated his attack.
He only got away with it twice before the third man realized what he was doing. He dodged the attack that was meant for him, but he had still been beaten back. Firmin ran again, waiting for the next man to get in close.
Jacques followed those chasing him down.
Manon lagged behind, ordering the soldiers not to chase him like that. Not to break rank. Reform the line! Encircle him!
Slow. Methodical. That's how they would trap him.
She had just managed to get the chasers back in line, all but Jacques, when Amorette suddenly appeared behind Firmin, having run around the room to get there.
He must have heard her coming because he turned and dropped, swinging the spear up and around as he danced out of her reach.
Amorette cried out in pain as she hit the ground, bleeding from the large gash on her belly.
Firmin lifted the spear to bring it down through her neck.
Only for the weapon to be knocked out of his hand. Firmin fell back, blood welling up along his hand where the short dagger had cut it. Jacques, having thrown his only weapon, closed in on him with both fists raised.
Firmin didn't even seem to notice the wound on his hand. He met the king with his own fists raised, easily falling into what appeared to be a familiar fighting stance. Jacques was pushing Firmin back, not because he was a better fighter, but because Firmin was allowing it so he could keep distance between himself and the line of soldiers that were back in order again.
They stepped over Amorette, not breaking rank. Manon did not, rushing to her the moment she was beyond the line, dropping down beside her as she rolled over onto her back.
"You okay?" She asked, distracted by the blood welling up between her fingers.
"Nothing's coming out," she said, grimacing. "I think it just hurts."
"Stay down. We'll have you carried out of here when we're done."
"Cupid is going to worry," she mumbled, relaxing back onto the stone as she gathered her own shirt to stop the flow of blood.
Manon stood and stepped around her, rushing after the line of soldiers.
They weren't in a complete circle. It was more of an exaggerated 'U' shape as they pushed Firmin back towards the wall. All of their swords and spears were pointed inward. Though Firmin was nowhere near them, they were ready for him to run their way.
And in the middle of the 'U', Jacques and Firmin were caught in bare knuckle combat.
It was fast and brutal and worryingly one sided. For every blow that Jacques landed, Firmin landed two in return. And they weren't easy hits either. Already, Jacques was sporting a busted lip and swelling across his cheek.
But despite that, he held firm. Manon was reminded, horribly, how Firmin used to beat him growing up. These kind of blows were what Jacques had been living with since he was a child. In a weird and tragic way, it was like Firmin had inadvertently trained him for this moment.
But there was one key difference between those childhood beatings and now.
Jacques wasn't alone anymore.
Manon pushed past the ever constricting ring of soldiers, drawing her daggers from their sheaths in two quick motions.
The ring contracted further.
Jacques blocked grabbed a punch and allowed Firmin's momentum to bring him forward, slamming his elbow into his nose.
A loud crack was followed by a grunt from Firmin as he stumbled back, blood rushing from the nose that was already discolored from where Manon had broken it earlier.
Before he could gather himself Manon ran past Jacques, swiping at Firmin with her daggers. One, then the other, then back again.
He continued to retreat, avoiding most of her strikes but not all. There were a few places - on his arms, across one shoulder, right on the line of his jaw - where he hadn't been able to move fast enough and she landed a hit.
But he was still faster than her. One particularly wide swipe left her open for just a second. He jabbed his fist into the inside of her elbow, buckling the limb. He grabbed her wrist, twisted it, making her cry out and drop the dagger as he brought his knee up.
Jacques grabbed it, blocking the limb before it could land on Manon's abdomen.
His other fist came up, striking right into Firmin's neck.
He made a gut churning, choking sound as he released them both to fall back.
Manon tossed her remaining dagger to her dominant hand as Jacques chased after him.
He had nowhere left the go. The wall was at his back. The line of soldiers was so close now that every other soldier was forced to take a step back, forming a second ring, so it could continue to constrict, all of their weapons pointed at him.
"You will never be able to hold onto your power, boy," he said, his voice strained for the first time as blood continued to rush past his lips.
Jacques brought his foot down, hooking it under Firmin's knee just as he was trying to take a step back, upsetting his balance and defense just enough for Jacques to slam his fist, bold and flat and direct, right into his solar plexus.
Firmin gasped for air as he stumbled back into the wall.
He brought up his fist to counter Jacques' next blow.
But Manon was already there, slamming her dagger into his forearm, right between the twin bones, so hard that the steel shrieked against the stone at his back.
Jacques grabbed his other hand turned, pulling it into his side, then twisted with a shark yank that snapped the bone with a sickening crack.
The two royals stepped back at the same time as Firmin, both arms disabled, used the wall to keep himself up. Something like pain, the first real expression Manon had ever seen from him, crossed his face along with a mocking smile.
"You two are just children," he said in that flat tone of his. "The palace brat and the bastard prince? You two won't be able to retain your thrones. Your end will come. Sooner than you think. A pretty skirt will catch your eye, boy, and you'll betray your queen. A stronger man will overpower you, girl, and you'll find yourself with your own bastard and just as mad as my Sabine. Then, you two will be trapped until someone ends your reign the same way your parents' did."
"Keep my mother's name out of your mouth," Jacques said, his own tone just as cold and flat as he held out his hand.
Obligingly, one of the soldiers placed a spear into it.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand love," Manon said, doing the same. Her grip tightened on the wooden shaft as she pointed the end at Firmin's chest. "Or the trust between a good ruler and their people."
"Children's notions," he dismissed.
"Better than a madman's ravings," Jacques stepped closer. The ring closed tighter. "If you've final words, I'll hear them now."
Firmin held his head high. "Tell your mother I loved her."
Jacques and Manon moved at the same moment, slamming their spears through his chest. Hers struck bone. His struck stone. Firmin jerked and coughed, blood flecking his lips as he began to slide down, unable to keep himself up.
"I will tell her no such thing," Jacques promised, ripping the spear free.
Manon twisted hers and aimed further inward, slamming it into his heart. "She will never be forced to remember you again."
She left her spear in him, stepping back to stand beside her husband. The two of them stood there and watched as Firmin Didier, the slayer of King Robert and Queen Radelle, the rapist of Queen Sabine, the tormentor of Princes Jacques, the start of a bloody, nearly decade long war, stilled and went gray as his blood slowly spread then dried on the cold stone.
Jacques tossed the bloodied spear down beside him before turning, offering Manon his arm. She took it, turning from him as well.
They walked together past the ring of soldiers that finally converged on his body. Just past them, further in the chamber, the workers were already carrying Amorette up towards the door. It was slow going owing to the stairs as this was never a place meant to be traversed by people after it was finished being built.
Manon and Jacques walked away from the man responsible for every sorrow and tragedy in their lives and didn't give him a single look back.
~~~~~~
In the cold darkness of pre-dawn, Firmin Didier was burned. His soul was not given a proper send off and his body neither a proper burial nor cremation. He was burned, but it was done without honors or ceremony and the ashes were gathered and given to a messenger to be taken deep into Vasconia and scattered across the Great Plains where not even his ashes would have the chance to find Sabine in the far south.
Neither Jacques nor Manon attended either event. Instead, they remained blissfully abed, wrapped in each others arms, secure in the knowledge that it would be done and that they never need consider him as a factor in their lives again.
That morning, after the sun had risen, the pregnancies of both Queen Manon and Queen Nina were announced to much joy and celebration. Two babes, conceived at the same time, children of loving siblings, that would be raised as cousins and friends, to be rulers of their kingdoms, ensuring peace for the next generation to come.
And with such news, no one could even be bothered to think about the furtive burning of a disgraced general.
The palace of Petrus Landebert was the biggest casualty of his attack, and even then, the damage was mostly cosmetic. And also mostly caused by Amorette. The fire couldn't eat through stone, so only some furniture had been lost. As for the new, expanded kitchen, the cooks were excited that the smoke from the ovens would no longer gather on the ceiling. Or it wouldn't once everything was finished being stabilized and repaired.
But that was hardly a problem now, since the meeting between royals families was officially over and all of the repairs would be done by the time they came back next year.
Saying goodbye was bitter sweet. Jacques and Nina stood back, watching as the siblings embraced and promised to write often between now and next year. They hadn't had a chance before; it was their first, real goodbye.
When Jacques and Manon married, it had been a rushed affair. Erec hadn't been able to attend. When Manon returned to Gwenael for his wedding, she only got to see him briefly before she had to leave to come back to Ambraude.
So, really, this was the first time that the siblings got to bid each other farewell as they separated to live their different lives. Raised together, absolutely loving, willing to risk anything for the other, and it hurt to actually say goodbye, even knowing that they'd meet again in a year.
It wouldn't be the same.
Nothing would be the same.
But that was all right. That was to be expected. It was okay to mourn what had to be left behind in order to embrace what would come.
The two siblings separated with tears and smiles in equal measure.
Jacques led his wife from Petrus Landebert, enjoying the weight of her on his arm. She wiped at her eyes, but her face was filled with happiness.
"When we see them again, we'll be able to introduce our children," he said, his eyes darted down to her belly.
It might have just been wishful thinking, but this morning, he could have sworn that he felt a new roundness and fullness to her lower stomach. Physical proof of his babe growing inside her, strong and healthy.
Proof of the peace they had secured.
The royal airship was already packed, running, and ready to go. The two of them climbed the gangplank and stood on the deck, watching as the mountain shrank below them. From here, they couldn't see Petrus Landebert. Their ship couldn't fly high enough to even offer a glimpse at the top of the palace.
But it was there. A steady rock on the meeting place between the two kingdoms where their family ties would always remain strong.
"Do you think we should get your mother back?"
Manon's question surprised Jacques. He looked down at her.
"My mother? Why?"
"She's safe now. Do you want to bring her home? Where we can look after her and take care of her? In someplace familiar."
Jacques didn't even have to think about it. He shook his head no.
"I think the best thing for my mother is exactly what she has now. A new place to be. A place without any of these memories at all. Gascony has been her cage for years. I think she'll be happier where she is. If your father writes to tell us otherwise, that he thinks she should return, then I will welcome her back with open arms. But I honestly don't think my mother loves me."
"Jacques."
"I'm not saying it for pity," he assured her quickly, smiling. "I think my mother cared for me as much as she was capable. Admittedly, it wasn't much, but she gave what she could. But the circumstances of my conception, the loss of my father, the loss of her mind, has taken any ability to love me from her. And I'm all right with that."
Manon gave him a concerned look that told him he hadn't been reassuring.
"Really. I'm fine." He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "I have you. I have our kingdom. I have our child. I have all the love I'll ever need."
Manon smiled, leaning her head down against his shoulder. "I'll make certain of it."
"How about you?"
"Hm?"
"Do you want to see your father? I mean, we can't make a big deal about it. We wouldn't be able to let him wander around or allow anything big for his arrival, but there's no reason that he couldn't be allowed to visit you."
"Thank you. But no." She shook her head. "Papa... I'll miss him. And maybe one day we can go down to the Aqua Isles to visit. But your mom isn't the only one who is going to heal better down there. I will write to him now that it's safe though."
Jacques nodded in agreement. "Going to visit them sounds like the best plan. One day. So he can meet the children, if nothing else."
"Children?" Manon repeated, chuckling. "Am I carrying twins and don't know it?"
"I would be all right with that."
"No. You may have one at a time."
He laughed, putting his arm around her waist. "I don't believe that decision is up to you, my dear. Besides, I was talking about the next one. And the one after that, Lord willing."
"You don't even have one yet; you're already making plans for the next two."
"I think three children is the perfect number," he nodded sagely. "One to be the eldest responsible sibling. One to be the reckless middle sibling. And one to be the darling youngest sibling. A perfect number."
"And what if I do have twins?"
"Then we can have two, responsible eldest siblings, but the other two remain the same."
"That's four children!"
"It's all right. I can afford them. I'm a king."
"You're a fool," she laughed, unable to help herself.
"A fool for you." He turned from the view and gathered her into his arms. "And now that things shall finally calm down, we can live our lives properly. With our five children."
"Five children? How did we go up from three?"
"That's in case we have two sets of twins."
"Twins don't even run in my family."
"I think I have a cousin who has twins."
"That's not a thing."
"I'm also thinking we should get some dogs."
"You have hunting hounds."
"I think more like companion dogs. I've always wanted them growing up but I was never allowed to have one. Probably a good thing, all things considered. But now that everything is stable and calm, I think our children should have dogs."
"Are you sure this dog isn't meant for you?"
"I confess to nothing." He kissed her forehead sweetly, a grin on his face.
It was the kind of conversation they had never had before.
They had talked about the future, of course. Multiple times. But those plans were always for things related to the kingdom. Military changes, Sacellum plans, new laws. If they brought up their child, it was only in reference to their need for an heir.
But something was different now. Something had eased and it was like the concept of their future, for them personally as a family, was finally open. They could plan for something that brought them joy, not just something that kept the peace.
And as they talked and Jacques' plans got wilder and more ridiculous making her laugh harder and harder as the ship put distance between them and the mountain range, Manon felt that barrier that had blocked her from thinking of such things fall further and further behind.
For the first time, she wasn't just planning the future.
She was looking forward to it.
~~~~~~
Returning to Ambraude could have gone one of two ways. Manon wasn't sure what to expect, but she wouldn't be surprised if it went, maybe not badly, but negatively.
After all they had gone through in their home city, if their reception from the common folk was lukewarm, it wouldn't be abnormal. Maybe actively booing in the streets, but she would just be happy if the city wasn't on fire again.
And though she knew it was a possibility, she considered it such a small one that she was surprised by what actually happened.
The people cheered.
New of her pregnancy spread faster than their ship had traveled. She didn't know if it spread through messengers that were constantly speeding between various cities or the palace staff finally let the truth out, but regardless, it was known by the time they came in for a landing and, apparently, it was the most joyous news possible.
"We aren't the only ones who were disturbed by the upset in the city," Jacques said when he caught her staring out of the massive bay doors from which she could hear her people yelling with joy. They could no longer see them, but she could still discern the distant celebrations in the street.
"I guess I didn't expect them to care. After everything."
"They probably care as much as we do." He went to her side, taking her hand so he could lead her down the gangplank and onto the indoor docks. "Not everyone picked an extreme side you know. And we changed a lot of hearts and minds with your mercy."
"It was your mercy too."
"It really was not," he assured her, his voice dropping just a bit before coming up again with his smile as he tucked her hand into his arm. "An heir means stability. A successful peace mission between our people means certainty. We return and we return with good news. Of course, they're going to celebrate what that means."
As though to confirm his words, the dock workers were smiling as they disembarked. The castle staff that had come to greet them were all smiles. All except for Moise who never appeared to smile, though her severe expression did seem less pinched than normal.
"Welcome back, your majesties," she greeted them formally, bowing her head low.
"How have things been while we were gone, Moise?" Jacques asked as the two of them paused in front of her.
"Quite well. General Emilien has handled things admirably. Not as well as yourselves, of course, but that's to be expected."
"No need to flatter us," Jacques laughed. "We can take some criticism."
"Truly, I was not being disingenuous. The general is a distinguished military man and should be praised as such, but he is not a king."
"Well," Manon grinned, "we can't wait to catch up on everything. Where is he now?"
"In your office. He asked me to come get him when you were landing, but he's behind on paperwork, so I decided to allow him to finish that instead."
"How magnanimous of you," Jacques snickered.
"No reason for him to give you a load of work immediately upon your return just because he couldn't finish it himself," she said haughtily. Which both of them took as her caring for them, despite the coldness of her tone.
She left to oversee the unloading and unpacking of their clothes and belongings as the two of them entered the castle.
And while Emilien might not have been as good at paperwork as them for Moise's liking, there was no doubting that he had done a fine job.
It was as though the invasion into the castle had never happened. The repairs had all been finished and the messes all cleaned up. The hole under the castle wall had been filled and steel rods inserted into the ground to prevent another such tactic from being used.
Not that it appeared to be necessary. Not if the cheering in the streets as they passed overhead was anything to go by.
Manon was tempted to go to their office immediately. Despite Moise's attempt to keep them from working the moment they stepped off their ship, she felt bad that Emilien was still doing their paperwork.
But Jacques wouldn't hear of it.
"Let's just rest for the afternoon," he said, guiding Manon to their rooms instead.
"We've done little else the entire trip here."
"You're a breeding woman. Women need more rest when they carry. I've read this."
"Where have you read this?"
"In a book, I'm sure."
"Name it."
"Now, you can't expect me to memorize the names of every book I've ever read."
"Surely, you'd remember the one you read about breeding women. It can't have been that common of a topic for you."
"I'm a well read and studied man, my love. Who could keep track of such things?"
"But you remember the information?"
"Naturally. That's the important part."
She laughed. Mostly at his ridiculousness. She knew he was right just as she knew he was only saying that because he didn't want her working hard.
Since leaving Petrus Landebert, Jacques had made it his personal mission to ensure that Manon never did anything too strenuous again. At least, nothing outside of their bed. Or whatever surface they had decided to use for that moment.
They had burned to ashes the last fragment of the war. He didn't want her to be put in a situation where she ever need draw her daggers again. In fact, he had told her, if she wanted to just let her body go completely soft as she rounded with his babe, he not only encouraged that, but he rather thought he would enjoy it immensely.
And Manon wasn't fighting him much. Partially because she knew it made him happy, helping with his peace of mind, but mostly because she was finally experiencing the dreaded sickness of a carrying woman. And while not the worst illness she ever felt, it was blasted uncomfortable and lasted for many hours until the point she wished she would just be sick so she could get it over with and let her stomach finally rest.
But there was no such mercy for her. Which meant that Jacques hovered more. Which she again tolerated because it made him happy.
Just as she tolerated it now as he claimed to suddenly be highly well read on breeding women despite her knowing for a fact he had never touched a book on the subject in his life. Just as she knew that he definitely would have by the time that night fell.
Stepping back into their rooms after so long away, freshly cleaned and aired, bright flowers decorating the space, finally felt like coming home. The last of Manon's tension eased as she and Jacques moved to sit down.
He pulled her into his side, resting back at his ease, as they listened to the birds sing and the people cheer. It was a far cry from the shouting of protesters and the difference was so wonderful it near brought her to tears.
But she held back by sheer force of will, smiling at nothing as she let the sounds lull her into a peaceful doze.
She didn't think she fully fell asleep, she was aware of time passing but she seemed slightly distanced from it. Focused more of the slow beat of Jacques' heart and the occasional stroke of his thumb against her hand.
"Manon?"
Jacques' voice was gentle. Almost a whisper. As though he was concerned that she might be asleep and he didn't want to wake her.
"Hm?" She replied, stirring back to full wakefulness easily. The sun was still bright and their room seemed so pretty and idyllic.
"Did you want to lay in the bed?"
She yawned delicately. Not really tired, just comfortable. "No. I'm fine. Unless you want to?"
He hesitated for just a second before saying, "I think you'd be more comfortable sleeping on the bed, that's all."
Her eyes narrowed, though she wasn't looking at his face. "Jacques, you aren't by any chance trying to make me rest while you go off to work?"
He said nothing, damning himself with his silence.
Laughing, she shoved him away, sitting up straight. "Fine. Let's go relieve Emile from his duties. He deserves a break."
"Ruins my intention if you're just going to work anyway," Jacques said, laughing as he rested his arms out along the back of the sofa.
"How am I supposed to nap knowing you're working?"
"Very easily, I would hope."
"Not going to happen."
"It will when you get more pregnant. If you think I'm going to let you work as hard as you have been when you're rounded and tired, you're mad."
"Hopefully by then, I won't have to," she laughed, leaning back against his chest.
"I guarantee you will not. I will work ceaselessly to make sure you will not." He put his arm around her, holding her close.
"We will work ceaselessly," she corrected, smirking, earning a glare from him that she simply smiled at sweetly.
"Obstinate woman," he growled, even as he nuzzled his nose against hers.
She giggled.
"Funny?"
"Happy." She sighed, leaning her head back down against him, her arm over his chest, just enjoying the warmth and strength of his body. "I love you."
She felt rather than saw him smile as he embraced her with both arms. "You are truly happy, my love?"
"Of course. Was that in doubt?"
"There were a few times there where I had to wonder."
She hummed contentedly. "Wonder no more. Even when things were at their worst, I never had a single desire to leave or give up. I've always enjoyed a challenge, you know. And what could be a bigger challenge than this? I've never had so much fun."
"You know, I think you're being completely serious."
"Absolutely." She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "I never knew what I wanted from life. I only knew that what I was born to do, being just a princess who married a noble and settled into a peaceful, boring life, was never what I desired for myself."
"That's not true." He brushed her hair back behind her ear. "You weren't born to be a princess. You were born to be a queen. Even if you didn't know if yet."
She smiled. "As you were born to be a king."
"Your king." He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I could not have done this without you. I did have moments were I wanted to give up. Where I was definitely not enjoying the challenge of this. But they were all moments where you were at risk. Moments when I had to measure the weight of my love for my queen versus my love for my people."
"A single life is not worth a kingdom."
"Perhaps not, but that is logic that my heart will not hear. Not when it is your life. You make me a better king, a better man, than I would have ever been on my own."
Manon shook her head, smiling. "You give yourself too little credit. You were already doing amazing things before I came here. I focused on myself, my training, my knowledge, my skills. Honing myself to be a leader and fighter. While you were focused on your people. Your rebellion. On keeping them safe and devoted to you so that when you did take over, you already had a power base. This kingdom needed both of us."
"You needed me, and I needed you," Jacques said, resting his forehead down against hers. "And now we can finally start to heal. I love you, Manon. For everything you've done for me. For everything you've done for my kingdom. I love you and I always will."
She smiled. "And yet you doubt that you've made me happy?"
He laughed, hugging her close. Letting her feel the gentle beating of his heart.
They stayed there for awhile yet until, both of them feeling guilty, they finally stood to go relieve Emilien of their duties.
Which he had performed wonderfully. He had, of course, been informed of their arrival - if only after the fact - but he had opted not to come retrieve them. Believing, as Moise had, that they should take the chance to rest.
But really, it wasn't as much work as they usually did.
And in the weeks that followed, as they settled into a new, steady, peaceful routine, there seemed to be less and less work every day until it was finally down to a manageable amount. Something that Manon could allow Jacques to handle alone because, as predicted, she did become tired as her belly became more round.
Not to say that there were no traditionalists left or that they were suddenly all silenced. There was dissent and, as they continued to make changes, displeasure, but it was merely grumbles now in city taverns and pubs. Nothing like the dangerous and angry riots and mobs that had threatened to burn Ambraude to the ground.
However, even those grumbles began to slowly die away as Jacques and Manon's reign became more stable. As the economy began to recover, as shortages were finally eased.
A new school for girls was raised, and this time it flourished.
The new Sacellum was begun, though it would take years for it to be finished, and Isaie began to recover from its attack.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, there was also a large boost in the population in the months that followed as the products of returning soldiers were all born at the same time. An influx of new life and hope that did just as much to settle the people as their peaceful rule.
And one night, just as winter was starting to turn back to spring, Manon gave birth to a healthy, screaming, wiggly baby girl.
Princess Radelle Urbain, first in line for the throne, made her displeasure at the cold world she had been born into known, quieting only when she was placed into her father's arms. Though her little red face remained scrunched up and angry.
"She has your temperament, my love," Jacques joked, sitting beside his wife as she rested on their bed after the long labor.
Manon, who was somewhere between wanting to succumb to exhaustion and never close her eyes and miss a second of her baby's life, leaned into his side.
"And your hair," she chuckled, playing with the auburn strands decorating her tiny head. No one would ever be able to say that she did not share his blood. Her eyes had not yet darkened, still bright baby blue, but the shape of her face seemed to share both of their traits. Manon's nose, his lips, her chin, his eyes.
She was the promise of their peace. A great destiny awaited her, but she didn't know it. She fussed, straining against her swaddling until Jacques gave her to Manon to allow her to eat.
While she suckled, Jacques pulled Manon against his chest. Holding both of his girls.
His family. Everything he needed in life. He was still nervous about what kind of father he would be, but he looked at the face of his little girl and knew that, regardless of anything else, he would only ever act with love and good intentions for her. He might make mistakes, he could almost guarantee it, but he would never give up on her. Give up on being a father. He looked forward to the challenge.
"My loves," he said warmly, stroking her head as he held onto Manon.
"Do you have work to finish?" She asked, knowing that he had been pulled away from something when he had been informed of her labor this afternoon. It was late, probably too late to get back to it, but she would understand if he had to go.
"Nothing that can't wait," he assured her. "Sleep, my love. I know you must be tired."
"But Radelle..."
"I will put her in her crib when she's done."
"I'm scared I'll drop her," Manon confessed softly, looking down at the precious bundle that feasted at her breast.
"You won't," he promised, tightening his arms. "I have you both. Rest."
It was only a partial truth. He had them both and he would never let them fall, but he didn't take Radelle to her crib when she finished. He adjusted her against Manon's chest, then adjusted Manon against his, but he didn't release either.
His life, everything he loved, was safe in his arms. A family finally put back together. Love and peace and security that he hadn't experienced since his had been broken apart so many years ago. How could a man be expected to part with that feeling so soon?
He couldn't.
He didn't.
Jacques rested with them. The kingdom rested with them. Come morning, there would be cheering and dancing in the streets at the announcement of the new princess.
But for now, they were his alone.
And they all rested together, secure and safe and loved.