Hey everyone!!
1. For those of you who experience anxiety, depression, and/or PTSD, you'll understand that some days, weeks, months are worse than others. This month hasn't been so great.
2. The people who reached out and checked on me during the time are so incredible. Thank you all so much! I'm serious. I love you all and it means so much that you'd be so concerned about me as well as the update 😉
3. I'm seeing maybe 2-3 more chapters of this story, so it's reaching it's ending!! AAAAAAAHHHH WTAF!! Also, In the Shadows celebrated it's second birthday in June!! 😱 Omfg I can't believe it's come that far! I've been writing this since I was in college and I can't believe it's going to end soon 😭
4. I have a lot more written for the future scenes so (fingers crossed) the next updates shouldn't take nearly as long, mental health permitting.
Anyway, I love you all and I'm sorry it took so long! Enjoy!!
Louis's POV
Louis wiped the sweat of the summer sun from his brow and watched helplessly as flock after flock of carrion birds descended on the wounded and fallen of the most recent battle. The cries of those still alive rose up through the cacophony of crows and vultures. Murdoch's evils never ceased. Just when Louis thought there was nothing more horrifying about war, the Mad King reared his head and sent out a new order to change Louis's mind.
The most recent order was the vilest of all. Mullingar's archers stood at the edge of the just-abandoned battlefield, bows ready and waiting should anyone approach to collect the wounded and dead. It went against every unspoken rule of war to allow the defilement of soldiers' remains. Usually, each side called a truce as they cared for the aftereffects of a battle, but Murdoch had other plans. No one was allowed to access the battlefield, not even his own men. Those from the resistance's army that had tried were now among the wounded and dead, shot cruelly and without warning by the Mullingan archers.
Murdoch knew how to simultaneously demoralize and incite them.
The Cheshine soldiers, already discontent with the military proceedings, were near riotous at the recent development. Their religion dictated that a person's spirit could only find peace with Ornan through the burning of their fleshly bodies after death. This necessitated burning remains by nightfall on that day. Those unburned after that time were cursed to roam the earth forever as unholy spirits. It was the one thing their wildly-nuanced sects could agree on.
Between this and the disagreements springing up, Louis wasn't sure how much longer their resistance could continue and still hope to win this war. The Velian and Cheshine soldiers were at each other's throats. One would hope they'd had enough of fighting from the Mullingans, but that wasn't the case. Their vastly differing lifestyles made agreement impossible and cordiality rare.
A change needed to come and soon.
Kalysta's POV
2 months later
~October 1651~
"We need him to leave that castle," Kalysta pointed out, taking a deep breath to combat the pregnancy-induced indigestion.
"Murdoch hasn't stepped foot out of it in many years." Thomas was pacing on the other side of the council chamber, staring at the ground as if it held the answer to their problem. "I doubt he has reason to now either. That brother of his is doing well enough as general and they're successfully holding their own against the rest of us."
"What if we agreed to surrender? He would want to accept that surrender himself, wouldn't he?"
"How would you explain that missive to the councilors?" Thomas scoffed.
"We could just tell them our plan to assassinate him." The look he gave her was enough to have her withdrawing that statement. "Fine, fine, we don't tell them. I just think this is too much for the two of us to plan on our own."
"And it will be even more difficult to plan the assassination of someone who is expecting it, Princess," he added. "If we tell no one then there's no way of this getting out to the wrong ears."
Kalysta sighed and held a hand to her stomach. "This is taking too long! I tire of reading the reports of Murdoch's latest horrific edicts! He needs to be stopped and soon!"
"Then by all means, Princess, go! Take your knife and slay the father as you did the son!" Thomas called, gesturing grandly toward the door. "I'm sure he won't see it coming!"
"You're being cruel," she breathed. He knew what had happened, but that didn't mean he had to bring it up. She wanted that past to stay in the past.
"I'm merely remarking on the absurdity of thinking this can be settled on quickly. It won't be simple to eliminate him or someone would have done it already. We need a good plan and I need you to be fully invested in it or we'll lose any chance we have."
Kalysta held her breath as she felt the movement from her stomach.
"Are you alright, Kalysta?" Thomas asked worriedly when she didn't respond.
"The babe's awfully active today," she said, letting out the breath. "It's still strange." Her voice quavered and she took another deep breath to calm the anxiety that threatened to well up. She didn't think she'd ever be ready for a child. It was too new, more than she could cope with and under the worst circumstances. Her breathing sped and she focused on calming it as Thomas came over to her.
He knelt on one leg next to her and grasped her hand. At this point he was well familiar with her anxiety and how to temper it. "Eh, Princess, what's the fuss? Just breathe a bit. You're going to be fine."
She did, closing her eyes and concentrating on the rise and fall of her chest. It took a while, but he didn't press her. This helped. She'd had enough of people demanding how quickly her healing occurred. Eventually, she opened her eyes again and quirked her mouth in a semblance of a smile. "I suppose I'm still a bit in knots about having this child."
"That's to be expected," Thomas agreed, nodding and standing. "If you weren't then I'd be worried about your mental state."
She scoffed and stood, feeling a bit woozy.
Thomas held out his arm and she took it. He steadied her and led her toward the door. "I think that's enough for today. We can talk more tomorrow and establish something for sure."
"If you think so."
"This deserves the time to be well-thought. Rushing in won't do us any good and may put us in an even worse position. Rest some and we'll talk tomorrow."
"I really hate Murdoch," she whispered, not wanting to echo in the corridor as he led her to her chambers.
"A sentiment I share."
"So many men are dying."
"Well, Louis arranged it so they can collect the dead and wounded again. There's that at least," Thomas offered. "And they're making good headway, gaining some ground in Mullingar. Louis isn't making it easy on Adrian or the Mullingan generals. Honestly, I'm quite surprised at how well the blighter is doing."
"I thought your low opinion was toward Zayn, not Louis."
"Eh, they're both arrogant louts, but I hate Louis a bit less, perhaps."
Kalysta shook her head. "Well, I'm surprised you ever got around to supporting the resistance with your hatred toward everyone involved."
He laughed at that point and then released her arm when they reached her rooms. "Rest well for tomorrow, Princess." He bowed a bit and made his exit.
Kalysta went in and started getting ready for dinner. She was to eat with her family, but she wished she could be anywhere else. The presence of her brother Franklin was usually enough to prevent her father's castigation over everything she'd done, but his snide comments were making her weary. He hypocritically despised her secrecy in meeting with Thomas though he had kept her ignorant to so much in the past. Altogether it made for very uncomfortable meals.
Delia came in from the washroom as Kalysta was undressing. "Have you made any progress in your little meetings?"
"No matter how many times you ask, Delia, I'm not going to tell you what the meetings are regarding."
Delia huffed, but didn't push the matter. "Let's at least make you look presentable for dinner. Did you sweat in your meeting or something? Your dress looks mussed."
"I had one of my anxious fits," Kalysta admitted, "but it wasn't anything too bad."
Delia grabbed the discarded clothing, but stopped in her movements toward the washroom. "Milady, are you sure you're well?"
"I'm fine now, Delia, I promise."
Delia didn't answer. She simply went to the washroom and returned with a thick strip of linen and a new set of undergarments. "If you please, Milady, I'd like you to put this linen in your drawers and get into bed."
"What?"
"Look at your thighs."
Kalysta looked down and saw the lightest trickle of blood. "What's going on?" she breathed. "Is something wrong? Is the baby alright? It was moving earlier!"
"Just take a calm breath, Milady," Delia said soothingly. "Get into bed and I'll fetch Mama Gia."
Kalysta did as she was told, but her heart raced with fear.
--- --- --- --- --- ---
"Well, Your Highness, it's good we caught this early," Mama Gia said, rinsing her hands in the wash basin. "What did I say about resting and only participating in non-stressful activities?"
"I haven't been doing anything!" Kalysta protested from her bed. "All I've done is sit and lie down! How is that stressful?"
"I'm going to be forthright, Your Highness. The babe is in a precarious situation right now and there's a chance you might lose it if you keep on as you have."
Kalysta swallowed the urge to vomit. "Lose it?"
"Yes. Will you listen to what I have to say now?"
"I have been!" Kalysta cried.
"Lower your voice and stay calm, Princess."
Kalysta inhaled and shook her head. Yelling wouldn't solve anything anyway. "What do you want me to do?"
"You're not to leave that bed," the midwife answered sternly. "You're on permanent bedrest until that baby makes its appearance in the world. Otherwise you're risking its life and your own."
"I can't stay trapped here. That's simply not possible. There's a war going, or haven't you heard? I am needed!"
"And if you die from blood loss then you won't be of much use so, again, I recommend that you don't leave your bed."
"What if I just stop walking?" Kalysta countered. "What if they transported me in one of those wheeled chairs instead?"
Mama Gia flung her arms up in frustration. "I can't forbid you, but do it at your own risk!" She grabbed her supplies, gave one more exasperated huff, and left.
"Milady, you must listen to reason," Delia plead. "Please just stay in bed."
"I suppose it does give me an excuse to stop going to those horribly uncomfortable dinners with my father," Kalysta sighed. "I won't stop going to my meetings with Thomas, though. They're too important."
"No, of course not." Delia heaved a sigh and arranged the pillows behind Kalysta's head for the tenth time in the last hour.
"I'll be careful, I promise."
Her mother came to check on her later that evening. "Are you alright, dear?" she asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. "I have to confess I was worried when you sent word that you were summoning Mama Gia so suddenly. I had some trouble carrying my first, but the idea of my grandchild has me twice as frightened."
"Mama Gia says that I need to rest more, so this room is going to become even stuffier than it already is."
"Oh, it won't be that bad. I'll come keep you company most days if you'd like."
Kalysta almost preferred solitude, but her mother looked so hopeful that she couldn't turn her down. "That'd be lovely, mother, thank you. Perhaps I'll perfect embroidery, at long last."
Her mother laughed. "That will truly be a miracle, but we can at least work at it." She stood, kissed Kalysta's brow, and stepped out with a "Rest well and I'll see you tomorrow." Her exit allowed the entrance of another visitor and this one surprised her.
"Hello, Your Majesty," she said, her tone removing any hint of respect from the words. "To what do I owe this... visit?"
"Are you well?"
Her father's words should have produced a warm feeling in her at his concern, but his voice was unattached, as if he didn't care for the news either way.
"I'm fine, as is the baby," Kalysta replied, "so no need to get your hopes up."
"Yes, I suppose it would be too much to hope that you'd lose a bastard child," he mused.
Kalysta held in a gasp at the cold-blooded remark. Her father had many unfavorable qualities, but this was offensive even for him. "You would wish death upon your future grandchild?" she hissed. "I thought my opinion of you was bottomed out, but I see it can be even lower."
"Is it so wrong that I'd rather you be unable to carry the child of a man you weren't even married to? I'd rather it die than to see you bear an illegitimate." His face was stiff, but his eyes were cold and angry.
"You are repulsive!" Kalysta snapped. "You have no sodding clue who the father of this child is, but you'll still come in here and wish it ill? No matter the father, this child is mine! Get out! Get out now, you abhorrent excuse for a man! I'm not supposed to be stressed, so you'll be leaving, you hateful ass, and not returning!"
"I've had enough of your speaking to me this way!" he roared. "I am your father and the King and I will not stand for this."
He pointed at her threateningly, but she knew he could do nothing.
"A true king wouldn't make deals with a devil." Her words were a hiss. "Now, get the bloody hell out of my rooms or I will expose your stupidity to the nation and have you dethroned. You'd rather see my child lost? Well I'd rather this nation be ruled by Murdoch than to stay in your charge. He'd run it into the gutter far slower than you have. Get. Out."
His eyes were slits of anger, but he knew she wasn't jesting. If the people became aware of what he'd done, he would be forcibly removed from the throne, especially with the most recent Mullingan attacks on the coastline. The people hated Murdoch and Mullingar even more now. If they found out Jonathan had made a deal that fell through anyway, they would revolt and rightly so.
Without a word, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him petulantly.
Kalysta calmed her anger and settled into her plush prison for the evening.
--- --- --- ---
The next day she didn't leave the room except to meet with Thomas, just as she'd promised Delia. As it was, the bleeding had terrified her. It also made her reevaluate everything about this child. Before this most recent development, she'd despised the idea of this life, an extension of a man she'd so despised, but the minute that life was in jeopardy she was even more scared. It fully settled in her, the idea of losing the growing life in her womb, and she found she couldn't bear the thought. She wanted this child, to hold it, and love it like its father and uncle hadn't been. She needed this child like the air she breathed.
All this almost kept her from meeting with Thomas again, but she hoped that being taken to the meeting room in the wheeled chair would be enough to prevent any problems. It was an embarrassing process and she felt pity again for the time when Zayn had gone through the same. Thinking of him brought the usual conflicting emotions, so she cast that pity aside and thought of the coming talk instead.
"I see you're growing lazier, Princess," Thomas scoffed, crossing his arms as Delia pushed Kalysta into the room and to the table.
Delia hissed under her breath, but she didn't dare contradict a King.
"It seems my baby is in a hazardous position, Thomas," Kalysta responded abruptly. "This is now my method of transportation until my labor is successful."
"Are you well?" Thomas's brow scrunched in concern.
"That remains to be seen." Kalysta turned to Delia. "You can go now. I'll send a servant to fetch you once I'm done."
Delia gave Thomas a narrow-eyed, suspicious look before taking her leave.
"Would you be amenable to sending an offer of parley to Murdoch?" Thomas asked, getting right down to business. "Perhaps if we said we were willing to negotiate with him then he'd emerge from his fortress to treat with us."
"It's worth a try. And asking for a parley doesn't require the approval of the council." Kalysta snorted. "Nor my father's approval, for that matter."
"We can draft that and see if it accomplishes anything. At the very least we can establish where he stands with us. He could respond any number of ways, agreement, refusal, curses, we can't know."
Kalysta sighed. "It's a start. But if he refuses and we create some other excuse to lure him out, won't he begin to grow suspicious?"
Thomas narrowed his eyes, concentrating for a moment. "We'll have to take that risk," he finally said.
They had the offer for negotiations drafted and sent out that day. Kalysta hoped that Mullingan low opinion of women wouldn't affect his answer. There were too many variables for her to factor into this. Add Murdoch's madness and it was a wonder anything was getting accomplished.
A month passed, a month of trashed plans and hopes, and discouragement. They were mostly waiting on the response from Murdoch, for his tone would determine much. Even after their consideration, his reply was worse than they had expected.
Thomas didn't let her see the missive. Apparently the return messenger had been charged to not only carry a message, but a "gift" as well.
"Why would you consider his reply without my presence?" Kalysta spouted angrily the next day when she found out Thomas was keeping the response from her.
"Personally, I thought it might upset your delicate disposition to see Murdoch's idea of a gift," Thomas replied. "You said you're struggling with the carrying of that child and I don't think seeing the severed head and gouged eyes of your messenger would help with that struggle."
"What?" Kalysta gasped. "Surely he wouldn't stoop so..." She shook her head, reminding herself who they were dealing with.
"That's what he did," Thomas confirmed. "He sent a note accompanying it stating simply 'A taste of what waits for you all.'"
Kalysta felt sick just thinking about it and she was quite glad that the delivery had been kept from her. "This will never end if we don't stop him. He will destroy his own country and any others in the hopes of winning. Is it vengeance that drives him? Madness? I'm not sure anymore."
Thomas just shook his head silently and started his pacing again.
The action would have been annoying to Kalysta normally, but now the repetition held comfort. "What can we do?" she whispered.
"I have an idea, but I'm not sure how well you'll like it."
"I'll take any option at this point."
Thomas gave a bark of mirthless laughter. "Wait until you hear it before making such broad declarations."
"Be out with it, then."
"He doesn't have an heir anymore. Niall is dead, Zayn is illegitimate and in the wind."
"Yes. And?"
"According to the treaty, your firstborn was supposed to be his heir, the next in line after Niall for the throne of Mullingar."
"I think that treaty was voided the moment we began a war with him," Kalysta snorted.
"But will he see it that way?"
"Get to the point please!"
"Taunt him," Thomas said. "When the child is born, taunt him with the fact that you have his heir, his grandchild, his blood. He won't take that. We could force a meeting with him under the guise of showing him his grandson."
"Absolutely not," Kalysta snapped. "There's no way I would let my child near him. Besides that, what if I have a daughter? I doubt Murdoch would be willing to risk all that for a female grandchild."
"But supposing you do have a boy?"
"What? I'm going to take him to see a murderous, raving lunatic of a King and wave him about? I don't think so!"
"Murdoch would leave his castle to see an heir."
"I don't sodding care!" Kalysta hissed. "The man can sit in his castle and rot for all I care!"
"You'll just let this battle continue indefinitely or until Mullingar is decimated?" Thomas's voice was like a whip cracking.
"I-I don't know!" Kalysta cried. "There has to be another way! I'm not endangering my child!"
"That's my only idea for the moment." Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Think on it for a bit. We'll meet back up at the end of the week and discuss it and any other options we have."
She didn't want to think about it, not really. The pondering of it over the week left her dismayed, for she didn't have anything else to offer as an idea. She couldn't very well put her child in danger, though, could she? At that moment she wished and prayed that the child would be born a girl. That would keep it safe, for Murdoch would want nothing to do with the child and they could solve the problem of the war without involving her.
It was at times like this that she missed Zayn even more. She wanted to talk over these things with him, for everything made more sense when he was involved. They argued, they drove each other crazy, but that didn't change the fact that she missed him. There was no denying the comfort he brought her and the way he cared for her.
When she blew her nose into a handkerchief and only then realized that she was actually crying. She couldn't count the number of tears she'd lost over the man. Now she was sitting on her bed, crying over him once more.
"Oh, Milady, what's going on?"
Kalysta tried to rein in her emotions, but was wildly unsuccessful. "I didn't think it would be this hard for me," she breathed. "I miss Zayn and I wish we'd never fought, and he hadn't left. I miss him." She put her fingers to her temples. "I understand why he left, I do. But he doesn't need to stay away. If that damned fool would just read the letter he'd know that. Or worse, what if he read the letter and doesn't care. Can he so easily forget our time together?"
"Heartbreak is worse when two stubborn fools are involved," Delia put forth quietly.
"Yes, I'm aware of how foolish he and I have been." Kalysta lay back again and covered her eyes with her hands. "I just wish I'd gone to see him a day sooner."
Delia sighed. "If wishes were fishes the ocean would be overrun."
"I know. Dwelling on the past serves no purpose except to comfort myself with memories." Kalysta sighed and breathed deeply. "I find that I'm angry at him sometimes, even if I understand his actions. I'm frustrated that he won't even respond. He could just say he doesn't want to see me anymore and that would be answer enough. Instead, he chooses this loaded silence where I can't tell if he's still punishing himself or if he's truly just moved on without me. I can't stand not knowing."
"You both have some growing up to do," Delia said. "Give it time and maybe he'll come to his senses."
"Too bad he doesn't have you around him to tell him how much of a fool he is," Kalysta teased as she swiped her cheeks one final time.
"His loss."
--- --- --- --- --- ---
The end of the week came and Kalysta grudgingly admitted defeat to herself. If the child was born a male, she would have to risk exposing him to Murdoch in order to eliminate the Mad King.
They sat in the council chambers as always, Kalysta in her frustratingly entrapping wheeled chair and Thomas pacing.
"Suppose that I were to agree to the introducing of my child to Murdoch," she ventured carefully. "What's the plan once we have him in front of us?"
"We kill him," Thomas answered like she was a simpleton.
Kalysta rolled her eyes. "Thank you for stating the remarkably obvious. What is the plan to kill him?"
"It would depend on where we meet and whether we want to do long-distance or close-up attack on him. I'd push for the latter. It may be more dangerous, but it will ensure that whatever weapon is used will have a better chance of finding its mark. He'll be dressed out in full armor for any meeting, judging by his level of paranoia thus far. A dagger or knife could find its way between his armor more easily than an arrow." He pondered this thought for a moment before continuing on. "We'll need someone very skilled with a blade."
"Why not use poison on the blade?" Kalysta offered. "That would mean that even a small nick to his skin would be fatal. I've heard that some of the desert creatures of Bradford produce particularly potent venom. Procuring some shouldn't be too difficult either."
Thomas looked at her in surprise. "Sometime I forget how crafty and ruthless you can be. Silly of me at this point."
"I've grown tired of a mad despot deciding how we live." That was all she wished to say on the matter.
"We need someone very good, both with a blade and with appearing innocuous to Murdoch's eyes. If we bring some obvious brute with us he will be twice as cautious."
"I'm still not comfortable having my child within a league of that man," Kalysta emphasized.
Thomas heaved a sigh. "Can you think of any other way to tempt him out of his stronghold?"
"No." Kalysta crossed her arms. "I can't bring my child with me, though. Murdoch would take any chance to get what he wants and hurt me in the process."
"Exactly!" Thomas exclaimed. "He's a slave to his own self-interest. It makes some of his actions easy to predict."
"Really? Then you knew he'd send my messenger back headless and eyeless?"
He looked at her exasperatedly. "Not exactly, but I knew he wouldn't respond well."
"His self-absorption is predictable, but his mental instability counters that," Kalysta clarified.
"Yes, you could put it that way."
Kalysta sat back in the chair, relaxing her posture and back. "This is a lot hinging on this child being a male."
Thomas gave a snort of cynical laughter. He sat in the chair next to hers and leaned back enough to prop his feet up on the table.
"I know you despise my country," Kalysta snapped, swatting at his legs, "but could you at least pretend differently while I'm in the room. Stop putting your feet on the furniture."
He snorted again, but dropped his feet to rest on the floor anyway. "Do you believe in Fate or the gods, Princess?" he asked unexpectedly.
She gave it some thought before responding. "I believe in something greater than people, but I do not pretend to know what form it takes." This thought brought a snort of derision from her too. "I must believe something is puppeteering the mess of this last year," she continued. "There's no other way to look at it."
Thomas nodded introspectively. "I believe that what needs to happen will happen, regardless of who it happens to."
"I thought I had a jaded view of life, but I have nothing compared to the futility endorsed in that statement," Kalysta scoffed. Her stomach rumbled then, but she ignored it. Hunger could wait. Thomas wouldn't have brought this up if it didn't pertain to their most pressing conundrum.
"Quite the contrary, actually," he countered. "With that ideal in mind, you simply look at what needs to change in the world, work toward it, and know that whatever higher being there is will be working toward the same."
Kalysta scoffed again. "I take back my earlier position. You're incredibly idealistic if you believe all of that."
Thomas simply shrugged off her comment. "Regardless, I believe that what needs to happen will happen. Murdoch needs to be eliminate and our plan requires you to have a son."
"You keep believing then," Kalysta offered. "I have to admit, though, that I'm gripped by the desire for this child to be a girl, for it will infuriate Murdoch greatly. He'll be without an heir and I doubt he is capable of siring another. He's old enough that his seed has probably dried up, even if Rowen was willing to help him with the task." She closed her eyes. "Just imagine the horror he would face as his legacy disintegrated. I confess it's an appealing idea."
"You are a hard woman." His words were an admonishment, but his tone was approving.
"I am what I need to be," Kalysta said snidely. "Whoever, whatever, is out there has taken much from me. Apparently my callousness is needed for what is to come."
Thomas stood then and moved to push the wheeled chair. "Come, Princess. Enough of this for now. I didn't miss the rumbling from your body earlier, though I'm unsure whether it was your stomach demanding food or the babe protesting at the idea of being used as bait."
"Both, undoubtedly."
"Well I know the solution to one of those problems."
She dined alone in her room and hated it. The walls felt oppressive after so long. Though her bleeding since the first incident had been minimal, Mama Gia hadn't lifted her edict of low stress and limited movement. Kalysta wanted this baby born sooner than later. She was growing tired of the weight on her abdomen and the resurging need to relieve herself so frequently. Luckily, Delia didn't complain about how many times she had to help Kalysta go to the bathroom.
As time passed the child made more movement and she grew excited for the idea of the child itself. She found herself talking to it quietly when she was alone, explaining that she wouldn't hold it responsible for the crimes of its father. No child deserved that, this one least of all. The babe moved more when she spoke and even this limited form of communication was dear to her. She dreamed of names for the baby, several for whichever gender the babe turned out to be.
Her mother commented on the change in her demeanor when she was visiting in the evenings, sewing or simply keeping Kalysta company. "You don't have such a frown anymore at the subject of your coming little one," she pointed out. "Have you finally accepted it?"
Kalysta tried to explain the change in her mind, but couldn't voice it in words. Thankfully, her mother seemed to understand anyway.
Some evenings her mother brought Franklin with her to visit and he kept Kalysta entertained with stories of his lessons and his mishaps riding horses. He was accident-prone despite his intense love for the creatures and he admitted to losing his balance and almost falling more often than not. Kalysta hadn't realized how much she missed this until she was able to connect with her precious little brother again. He talked endlessly and she watched him growing into a compassionate and diligent Prince. He gave her hope for her own child, if it turned out to be a boy, hope that love could keep her child from falling under the supposed curse of Murdoch's line.
Another month passed and Thomas presented his solution for their problem to assassination complications. His solution took the form of a woman that he brought to their meeting.
Delia wheeled Kalysta into the council chambers and left, but not before giving both Thomas and the newcomer suspicious looks.
Thomas's companion was a woman, clearly Velian from her build and tanned skin, perhaps 35 years in age. Though she wore a dress it looked uncomfortable on her, as if she were more used to pants and loose shirts. Her blonde hair was cropped at her chin, framing her face and giving her some femininity to go with the muscled arms that were apparent through the fabric of the dress.
"Princess, I'd like you to meet a subject of mine, Varale," Thomas opened.
The woman bowed appropriately, a fist over her heart. "It's an honor, Your Highness."
"It's a pleasure, Varale. What role do you play here?"
Varale looked to Thomas expectantly.
"She is one of my finest assassins," Thomas put forth carefully. "And she is entirely trustworthy. She's my cousin." His small smile shared that they were close enough to back up his words.
Kalysta felt a smile steal over her face. "What a fantastic idea," she breathed. "Murdoch has such a low opinion of women that he wouldn't dream of one being a danger to him." She stopped and gave Thomas a searching look. "How often do you have cause for assassination in Velia?"
"The class system is a little more complicated than you are probably privy to." Thomas shrugged. "Standing is power-based instead of money-based."
Kalysta ran a thumb over her lip as she pondered the implications of a woman being the one to kill Murdoch. "I love the poetry of this," she admitted. "The one to bring down the Mad King will be of those he has been oppressing for longer than our nation."
"She can join us in our meeting with him as your attendant if you choose."
"How often do your wear dresses?" Kalysta asked Varale wryly.
The assassin made a face. "Not when I can help it. Perhaps every other month."
"Even Murdoch is going to see through that," Kalysta protested. "You need to look like an attendant. I thought you were going to find someone innocuous!" she directed at Thomas. "She looks like a cobra stuffed into a corset."
Thomas shrugged. "She can learn. We still have a bit of time before that babe emerges."
Kalysta looked down at her swollen stomach and sighed. "It can't come soon enough. Mama Gia says another four weeks, but I don't think my back will survive that long."
Varale chuckled. "My first was like that. I got used to it by my third."
Kalysta rubbed her stomach carefully and smiled. "I think this one will be enough for me. It's been such a dramatic pregnancy that I don't know if I want another ever."
Thomas cleared his throat. "If you'll excuse my interruption of this woman bonding-time, we should discuss how this is going to go. Where will we meet with Murdoch? What's the best method for all of this to happen?"
"If you're confident in her abilities then all we need to do is distract him while he's in front of us and Varale can make her move."
"Yes, I'm sure it will be that simple," Thomas replied with a snide voice.
"We'll need to control how many people he brings with him," Kalysta continued, ignoring his comment.
"If he brings Adrian then I see no reason why we shouldn't eliminate both threats."
Kalysta shook her head quickly. "Do you want to send Mullingar into a civil war right after this? That's what is going to happen if you eliminate the entire Royal Family. None of Adrian's children are of age since the death of his firstborn, Hayden." Thomas quirked an eyebrow at her at the last part, but she ignored that too. "I won't cause more problems for that country. They've already lived under that horrid man for this long."
Thomas sighed. "Very well, but I still think it would be better to put a different family in power."
"We don't have time to ensure a good family moves up to the throne. Adrian seems like he would do well away from Murdoch's influence."
"Yes, I'm sure the general carrying out all Murdoch's heinous orders would make a great King." Thomas shook his head, but gestured in acquiescence. "You've had more dealings with him, so I'll trust your judgment, but I'm not comfortable with this."
"And I'm not comfortable killing a man who is simply following the orders of his ruler, brother or not."
Thomas finally sat and Varale joined him. "We've got much to do," he said. "Let's get down to it."
They talked through the day, stopping briefly to order food brought to the council chambers. Kalysta grew weary, but continued anyway. Their progress made her want to push through. They were finally getting somewhere.
Delia came to fetch her when the sun started setting. "Milady, Mama Gia expressly told me to have you in bed before nightfall," she explained, coming around to push her out of the room.
"Yes, you're right," Kalysta sighed. "We'll start this again tomorrow. Varale, I'm glad we have your services."
Delia wheeled her out. "Who is that woman?" she asked. "And what services is she providing?"
"You'll know soon enough, Delia. It's almost time." Kalysta smoothed a hand over her stomach carefully.
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Planning continued for the next few weeks, despite Delia's protests that "Milady" was over-working herself. Kalysta was starting to feel false contractions, which Mama Gia professed were the indication that labor would come soon. She kept all this in the back of her mind as she worked with Thomas and Varale, pouring over the notes and plans they'd made.
Kalysta had many questions about Varale's skill and there was much to consider as to where would be best to meet Murdoch. They needed an area where it would benefit them strategically, somewhere about midway between the two Royal Cities. The border between the countries was so blurred with the war that it would necessitate a neutral area determined ahead of time.
"I can send the message with where to meet," Kalysta said. "Murdoch won't be able to resist once I offer a chance to meet his grandchild. Assuming it's a boy, of course."
Thomas just shrugged and Varale didn't voice any concerns on the front either. Kalysta wasn't sure where that came from, but she wasn't going to ask.
Maps were brought in and an area was decided upon.
"It's on the outskirts of one of the abandoned villages inside Elysium's border," Thomas said, pointing. "There's a clearing in this group of trees and that will be perfect. Everyone will be seen, there's little chance of an ambush on their end, and we can make a quick getaway if necessary."
"We have the armies close by, of course," Kalysta mused, "and we can have a signal ready for if anything goes wrong." She was even more terrified for her child at this point, though they were already deep into planning. It seemed such a terrible thing to use her babe as bait, but desperate times called for desperate measures and with the mounting casualties for both armies, this was definitely a desperate time.
The second week in January brought a shock. In the process of moving from her bed to the wheeled chair, Kalysta's waters released, a full week earlier than Mama Gia had predicted. At first, Kalysta was terrified that the baby would be harmed if born too early, but between Delia, her mother, and Mama Gia, she was calmed down.
Kalysta hadn't wanted to have the child in her bed, but Mama Gia refused to move her once the contractions had started.
The labor was long. Her mother assured her that this was normal with a first child, but that didn't help Kalysta with the incredible pain. The agony of monthly cramps were doubled in intensity and she simply wanted it to be over. She thought she would perish before Mama Gia finally told her to push. Then the pain was more. Sweat, pain, exhaustion.
But upon the first newborn cry Kalysta almost forgot the pain. The squalling was almost immediate as Mama Gia examined the babe carefully for any signs of defect or illness.
"You've a little man-child," Mama Gia crooned, holding up the child for Kalysta to see through her sweat-blurred eyes.
The sight was a lovely one, but Kalysta couldn't stay alert. She closed her eyes to rest until the midwife had cleaned the babe and put him in her arms. He wasn't truly real to her until that moment. Almost a day's worth of labor and Kalysta held her son, so small, so fragile, so precious. Despite his vicious protests and scrunched up face, Kalysta stared at him and couldn't remember anyone looking so lovely.
There was but a twinge of sadness because she'd retained the pathetic, unrealistic hope that the child would be Zayn's, even after everything that had happened between them. It was clear that this wasn't the case, though. As the ruddy complexion of travail faded, her son's skin lightened and she knew it would be pale as fresh snow to go along with his father's chin cleft. The little dent in his chin should have brought a hash of bad memories, but she couldn't even connect that horrible past with the marvelous child she held in her arms. And his being a boy meant they would have to go through with all their plans to use him as bait.
Tears fell fast down her cheeks, tears of sadness and joy and relief. The span of his forehead was smooth beneath her fingertips and the brown fluffs of hair on the crown were even more so. His mouth was wide with wailing, and he shook a fist that had sprung free of its blanket entrapment.
"He wants fed, Princess," Mama Gia prompted. "Shall I fetch a wet nurse?"
Kalysta looked down at her squalling son and shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I won't have there be a reason for distance between us."
Mama Gia didn't press further. She simply showed Kalysta the best way to nurse him. The wailing ceased immediately when he latched except for a few noises as he settled in for his meal. Kalysta hadn't realized it before, but some pain was worth it, so very worth it.
"Does my little grandson have a name?" her mother asked, stepping over to the bed and brushing a hand gently over the boy's head.
Kalysta met her gaze.
Her mother's eyes were swimming with proud tears.
"His name is Finley," Kalysta announced, brushing a knuckle along his brow. "Finley Garrett Dubhain."
"That's a lovely name," Delia voiced, coming over to stand next to the Queen. She too had tears in her eyes, but the smile across her face left no confusion as to which emotion prompted those tears.
Mama Gia pulled Kalysta's mother to the side and held a quiet conversation with her. "The babe appears healthy, but I want to check in regularly to ensure that the Princess is adjusting well and able to feed the baby adequately. She's a small lass, so she might not have enough..."
Kalysta's attention faded as her eyes blinked shut. Finley continued his feeding as she drifted off.
--- --- --- --- ---
It felt like only a few moments before Kalysta was shaken awake. She looked about her with a tingle of fear. Her stomach was less and Finley wasn't near her.
"Delia," she called hoarsely.
"The little Prince is right here, Milady, don't you worry," Delia said, side-stepping from her position next to the bed so that Kalysta could see the baby in her arms. "He's going to need feeding now. Are you able to handle it?"
"Whatever he needs," Kalysta replied quickly. She was eager to hold her son again. The concept of being a mother was somehow new and exciting and frightening to her once more.
Delia set Finley in her arms and stepped back.
It took Kalysta a bit of turning and adjusting to get him in the posture that Mama Gia had showed her yesterday, but when she did, he was more than ready to eat again. He didn't even open his eyes. Kalysta wanted to see his eyes, but figured he would open them when he was ready.
"How long did I sleep?" she asked.
"Just an hour or so. Having a child is a difficult thing. They need feeding about every hour here at the start and they'll let you if you run late on that."
"Based on how loud he was, I'm sure that's true," Kalysta mused. She was exhausted still, but she couldn't get enough of looking at her son. His skin was filling out from the shriveled appearance that travail had wrought and she loved the smoothness of it.
She allowed herself the chance to connect with him for a while longer, but there was something that needed doing.
"Delia, would you bring me a lap desk, a quill and paper?"
"Whatever for?"
"Please?"
Delia sighed, but did as requested.
Kalysta held the quill carefully and penned a simple missive. A date, a time, a place and the simple words: 'I have your grandson. Would you care to see him?'
A/N: DUN DUN DUUUUUN
Aaaaaaaaah!! Okay, so I'm sorry if that entire last couple of scenes sucked. I haven't had any children, so I am going off what I've heard🙈I hope this was worth the wait. It was a long one with a lot going on.
Let me know what you think!
Big bad meeting is in the next chapter 😏
❤️Love you all and all the love❤️
~Kari~