The Dove And The Hawk Pt 07

Many thanks to my advance readers, including Not_E and happyyy_, as well as to my editor LaRascasse.

Content warning

: references to violence, references to sexual assault

***

After finishing his breakfast, Bethaer called for writing tools. If he were to become a Berelthian lord, there was much he needed to do once they arrived at their new home. He'd only just taken up his quill to start making a list when Idano appeared at his door.

"The Council has convened a special open meeting," he said, and Bethaer nodded. "It will be starting shortly," he continued, and Bethaer nodded again, making no move to stand. He knew what it was about, and his presence wasn't required.

Idano cleared his throat, and Bethaer turned to look at him.

"The High Council requested your attendance directly, my lord prince," he said, and Bethaer set down his quill. They must have decided on the matter of succession, though it was rather soon to have found his replacement.

Arriving at the Council hall, he sat at the far end of the gallery, Idano by his side. The rest of the court avoided the pair, sitting as close to the front as possible. He wished it didn't bother him so much, but every time they turned to look, open disgust on their faces, he felt a wave of shame.

The

yemat

brought the Council to session, calling upon Litheian, who stood, supported by her brother.

"The Council has agreed to your request, your highness," they said. "Do you have any objections to presenting the evidence obtained from your testimony, here and now?"

"None." Her voice was strong, and he smiled.

Idano coughed beside him, and Bethaer glanced at the man, who was frowning. No doubt smiling was also something he disapproved of, for the sake of his reputation. Bethaer shrugged at him. The man's opinions wouldn't hold force much longer, for he planned to renounce his Anderthan citizenship soon.

"In that case," continued the

yemat

, "the Council has instructed me to formally present the document for inspection." They waved forward a servant, who brought forth the scroll and set it on a large table that had been placed in the center of the hall. It was untied and rolled flat, weighted on each corner with stones for easy reading.

The crowd murmured, people shifting in their seats to get a better look. Bethaer ignored the curious glances sent his way, wondering who would be the first to step forth.

At the front of the room, King Endorran stood. "I, Endorran Bereltha, formally request permission to inspect this evidence."

"You may step down," the

yemat

said, and Bethaer watched as his father-in-law descended toward the table.

He leaned over the document, nodding as he read it. Then he looked up and said, loudly, "I, Endorran Bereltha, request to verify the seal on this document."

Bethaer's stomach lurched. Was he going to contest the marriage contract? Idano settled him with a hand on his arm, and Bethaer realized he had been on the verge of standing.

"Whose seal do you wish to confirm?" the

yemat

asked.

"It is the seal of the heir to House Andertha," the king replied.

The crowd buzzed, openly turning toward where he sat, but he kept his eyes on the table.

"Who holds the seal?" the

yemat

asked, and Idano stood.

"I, Idano Jerehan, representative of Anderar, hold the seal of the heir to House Andertha."

"Come forward," the

yemat

replied, and Idano did so, the crowd growing louder with anticipation. "Silence!" called the

yemat

as Idano brought forth Bethaer's signet ring, holding it up for all to see before handing it to Endorran.

Bethaer held his breath as his father-in-law inspected the face of the ring, then the seal on the wax, then pressed the two together. The ring sat neatly on the seal, fitting perfectly.

"I, Endorran Bereltha, verify this is indeed the seal of the heir to House Andertha," the king said in a booming voice.

Bethaer exhaled, relieved. The crowd tittered, still unaware of the contents of the document.

After Endorran returned to his seat, a gray-haired man stood. "I, Revat Sytheira, request permission to inspect the evidence."

Bethaer leaned forward to get a better look at the older man. This must be his great-uncle, his mother's father's brother and the king of Sytheire.

"You may step down," the

yemat

repeated.

Bethaer watched as his kin approached the table, pausing as he reached close enough to see the title of the document. He leaned closer, eyebrows raised as he read it slowly. Reaching the seal at the end, he lifted the ring, comparing the wax with the mold, then set it back down.

"I, Revat Sytheira, verify this is the seal of the heir to House Andertha." The old king returned to his seat as the crowd murmured, growing impatient.

Bethaer watched his great-uncle put his mouth to the ear of the younger man sat beside him, who gasped and looked over at the far end of the gallery where he sat. He gave a polite nod to the man, who must be the king's heir, his cousin. This only enlivened the crowd, and several members of the high court rose at once.

Bethaer's attention wandered as one by one the monarchs and representatives of Celandron read the marriage contract with their own eyes. He looked over to where his wife sat near the front, holding her stomach. Was the baby kicking again? Or perhaps she was hungry? He longed to return to her side, though he would wait until the session was adjourned.

"Silence!" called the

yemat

, and the crowd hushed once more. "The High Council calls Bethaer Andertha to stand in judgment."

He rose, ignoring Idano's curious expression.

"On the matter of the succession of House Andertha, the Council has decreed thusly," the

yemat

began. "Considering the nature of the evidence presented before the Council, it is decided that Bethaer Andertha and Litheian Bereltha shall rule Anderar jointly until such time as a child of theirs reaches maturity."

Bethaer stood frozen to the spot, too stunned to listen as the

yemat

continued. He was to inherit the crown? He looked over at his wife, but she was too far away to see her face properly. Not only would he be king, but she would be queen in her own right, too. His heart raced, thinking back to how much work he'd thought lay before him that morning, when he'd had only a small estate to consider. But this... putting Anderar to rights....

He clenched his fists, thinking on how many men yet lived who had violated his wife. He would find them all. He would see them hanged, have them beg for mercy --

"The Council is adjourned!" the

yemat

announced, and the crowd broke into commotion.

Idano turned and handed him a large, heavy ring that he recognized. His father's.

Bethaer shook his head. "Later," he told the man, clasping him by the shoulder as he turned to go.

He descended into the noisy crowd, now clamoring to read the marriage contract still sitting out on the table. Silently he approached it, removing the ring and the weights and rolling up the document. No one tried to stop him, so he tied it off and brought it over to his wife. Unsure of what to say, he offered it to her, and she accepted it with a smile.

"Let us eat,

im-uvnyan

," she said loudly, and his heart fluttered to hear her calling him in front of so many people.

"As you wish,

im-uvnya

," he replied, helping her to stand.

The crowd parted before them.

***

"Absolutely not, sister." Leitham spread his arms out, blocking the doorway.

Litheian sighed, exasperated. "I'm queen of Anderar now, brother. My place is in the Anderthan part of court."

"You'll be returning home soon. Why move rooms for only a few days?" he argued.

"Fine," she hissed, "but only if my husband moves here as well."

"Fine," he agreed. "He can take the empty room."

"No, brother," she corrected him. "I mean,

here

."

"You can't be serious!" he shouted, then turned to look behind him, speaking to someone out of view. "Please, make her change her mind."

"About what?" her husband's voice asked, and he appeared in the doorway.

"She wants you to stay with her here," Leitham said tightly.

Litheian watched her husband's eyes roam the room, gauging its size. He would agree, she guessed, but only if they brought in a second bed.

"Is there another bed that can be moved here?" he asked.

"No," she told him at the same time Leitham said "Yes."

She glared at her brother. "No," she repeated firmly. "You're my husband, and this bed is large enough for us both."

Leitham threw up his hands and stalked off. Her husband shut the door and walked over to where she sat, sitting in the chair next to her and taking her hand.

"I will stay nearby if you wish,

im-uvnya

," he said. "I will even sleep here on the floor if you ask me to stay."

"You are my husband," she said once more. Why did everyone keep forgetting this?

"I am, but...." His face clouded with guilt.

"You don't trust yourself," she said quietly, and he looked back at her, startled. She turned her hand over, holding him tight. "Do you remember our wedding night,

im-uvnyan

?

He flushed, looking away.

"You do," she answered for him. "You remember how we fell asleep together."

He nodded, his face still reddened.

"I slept better that night than I have every night here," she told him.

"That is only because you were so tired," he argued.

"Am I supposed to be less tired now?" she retorted, and he sighed.

"You are right,

im-uvnya

. I do not trust myself with you."

She brought her free hand to his chin, to make him look her in the eye. "Do you intend to hurt me,

im-uvnyan

?"

"I have already done so," he replied, and his eyes grew distant.

He must be thinking of the spring festival. How roughly he had taken her, after hearing her words. Or the first day they met, when he'd pinned her to his bed to keep her from jumping from his balcony. How cold and empty he'd turned when his men entered the room.

"You've spent too long pretending to be someone else," she said, as the realization came to her. "But I know who you are. Do you not trust me?"

His gaze softened. "I do,

im-uvnya

."

"I need you beside me," she said, knowing he wouldn't be able to refuse.

He nodded and she released him. "I should go inform them," he said, standing.

"Come back with supper," she instructed him, and he nodded again, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead.

***

Bethaer awoke, reaching for his wife. Had she said something? He found the space next to him empty, so he sat up, worried. Had she tried to use the chamber pot by herself? But no, that corner of the room, lit still by the lamp, was empty.

His heart was beating in his ears, his hands shaking. Where was she?

A whimpering sound came from the far side of the chamber, and he whipped his head around. Moving to her side of the bed, he picked up the lamp and lifted it to look about the room.

There, by the fireplace, his wife was huddled in the corner. She made another small noise, as though in pain, and he quickly crossed the chamber, moving the chair that she had somehow maneuvered around in her large state.

"

Im-uvnya

," he said, crouching down.

She flinched back, letting out a small cry, trying to cover her swollen womb with her arms.

"It is only me,

im-uvnya

. Bethaer, your husband. Look at me," he pleaded, searching her eyes for some hint of recognition.

But they were blank, unseeing. Was she still asleep?

He reached forward and took her by the shoulders, shaking her gently. "Wake up, my love. Come back to me."

For a moment she was still, then her fist hit his jaw, sending him backward. "No!" she cried, kicking and flailing as she fought off invisible attackers. Then she screamed, an eerie, hollow sound that made the hair on his arms stand up straight.

Bethaer watched her, stunned, as she struggled against the air, kicking and screaming all the while. He couldn't make her stop, not without hurting her. But what if she hurt herself instead?

The door slammed open and Leitham's voice shouted, "You bastard!" Bethaer felt the man drag him back, and he let him, feeling too helpless to resist.

Litheian was still crying out, still fighting her nightmare. Leitham looked at Bethaer, then back to his sister.

"I think she's dreaming," Bethaer told him, "but I don't know how to wake her."

Leitham swore. Bethaer blinked, his brain finally offering up an idea. "A physician," he said, looking up at his brother-in-law. "Fetch a physician!"

Leitham swore again and disappeared out the door.

Soon the figure of his mother-in-law appeared, wearing a long nightgown and bearing a lamp. "I was hoping this wouldn't happen," she said quietly, in between Litheian's gasps and moans.

She was barely moving now, but Bethaer didn't dare approach her, lest he trigger another wave of panicked flailing. He could see her hand was battered from hitting the side of the fireplace, but her eyes were still staring off into space, watching something only she could see.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, dazed.

"She was always prone to nightmares as a child," the older woman explained. "She seemed fine after she woke up last month, but now...."

Bethaer swallowed. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have agreed to share a bed."

His mother-in-law was silent for a long while, then said, "Let us wait to hear what the physician advises."

As if summoned, a woman wearing a physician's robes appeared at the doorway. She quickly assessed the situation, scowling at Bethaer. "You, outside."

He stood up and walked out the door, legs as heavy as lead. His cheek smarted, and he rubbed it absently.

Leitham was waiting in the open hallway, pacing by the light of a nearby torch. He stopped when he saw Bethaer's face and gave a low whistle. "She hit you?"

Bethaer nodded. "I tried to wake her, but I only made things worse."

Unexpectedly, his brother-in-law came forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "She doesn't know the difference when she's dreaming. I remember --"

He broke off as the door opened again, and both men turned toward the haggard-looking physician, who stepped out of the room and quietly closed the door.

"Her royal mother managed to wake her," she said tiredly. "Now,

al-duyan

, tell me what happened."

Leitham looked at Bethaer expectantly, and he remembered that he was a king, now. He relayed how he'd awoken to find her already cowering against the wall, his voice tightening as he described how she reacted when he tried to wake her.

The physician was nodding, which confused him. Was this something she had seen before?

"I believe that what is happening," she began slowly, "is that she feels safe enough, now, that her body has begun to relive the things she experienced when she... wasn't."

Bethaer frowned. "That makes no sense."

She sighed, and he was suddenly aware of how very, very early in the morning it must be. Beyond the colonnade of the open hallway, the stars were still shining brightly.

"Have you ever witnessed soldiers reliving battles in their sleep,

al-duyan

?" she asked him patiently.

"No," he said, frowning. "Never on the battlefront."

"Precisely," she continued. "While the danger is still present, the body protects itself. But now that it has passed, her wounds will begin to reveal themselves."

He swallowed. "No, that cannot be right. I am to blame. It was my presence that caused this." He would move rooms in the morning, see that her maidservant slept in her chamber instead.

"If your presence did anything,

al-duyan

," replied the physician, "it made her comfortable enough to begin this process."

He shook his head. "But how do we stop it?"

"We do not," she said simply, and he stared at her. Surely his wife couldn't continue like this. It wasn't safe.

"I agree, the timing is poor," she admitted, and Leitham snorted. She cast him a frigid glare, and he raised his hands in apology. "But there are changes we can make, to make things safer for her. You will need to find a lower bed and move the furniture against the walls at night. I will also have the apothecary concoct a draught for her to take with her supper."

Bethaer nodded, gripping his arm. "I will move out as well."

"No,

al-duyan

," she replied. "As I said, your presence comforts her. I know it does not seem like it right now," she continued against his protests, "but sleeping by your side should help her move through her pain more easily."

He couldn't believe it. Was he the one dreaming? After all he'd done to her, the idea that his presence could be a comfort to her.... He shut his eyes, remembering what she had told him on their wedding night.

I feel safe with you inside me

.

It hadn't made any sense back then, but he hadn't questioned it, too caught up in the moment. Looking back, he'd assumed she meant that she felt safe despite his presence in her body, but what if it was because of it instead?

He shook his head again. No, none of it made any sense.

***

Litheian returned to sleep with her stepmother by her side, too embarrassed to call for her husband. When she next awoke, he was seated next to her in bed, reading from a sheaf of papers. Had he gotten any sleep after she'd awakened him?

He looked up and she saw a bruise blooming across his cheek. She sucked in a breath, sitting up and reaching out to caress his face. But her husband flinched at this, and she pulled back her hand.

"Did my brother do that?" she asked him.

He gave a lopsided smile, shaking his head. "No,

im-uvnya

. It was an accident." She opened her mouth to ask him how, but he changed the subject. "How is your hand?"

She blinked, realizing that her other hand was bandaged and sore. "What did I do to it?"

"You hit it against the fireplace."

She bit her lip, embarrassed again. "How, exactly?"

He put down the papers and took her uninjured hand, looking at her intently. "How much do you remember of last night?"

"We were in bed together," she answered. "Then I was sitting on the floor, and my royal mother was there. I know I woke you, but...." She pushed back a strand of her hair, trying to remember more. A sudden thought froze her blood and she clutched her belly. "I didn't fall, did I?"

"No,

im-uvnya

," he assured her. "The midwife examined you this morning and said everything is fine. But we will need to change the bed, so it is not so high."

The baby fluttered inside her, and she held herself, relieved. "Did I get down by myself? Why?"

"You were dreaming," he explained. "You do not remember it?"

"No,

im-uvnyan

." She didn't like the thought of time missing from her memory, even if she had been asleep. "What did I do?"

"When I awoke, you were sitting on the floor by the fireplace. You were crying out, so I went to you, but you did not recognize me." He was speaking calmly, but she could hear the fear underneath. "I tried to wake you, and then...."

"And then what?" she urged him.

His hand tightened around hers. "Try not to be upset," he said, but that only made her more worried.

"What? What happened?" She could hear her voice grow high with fear.

"When I tried to make you come to your senses... you struck me."

It took her moment to absorb his words, and then she pulled back, flushed with shame.

"Forgive me,

im-uvnyan

," she said, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"There is nothing to forgive,

im-uvnya

," he replied easily.

"Still," she murmured, wincing at his mottled skin. No wonder he had shied from her touch.

"You did not know what you were doing," he said firmly.

Litheian shook her head. "But why would I even do such a thing?"