Lemon Lime Sorbet. Ambrosia. Caramel. Brownie (Resurrected)
AUTHOR: Shrimp
CHALLENGE: Lemon Lime Sorbet 10. What you do to me; Ambrosia 26. "Later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake"; caramel; brownie
WORD COUNT: 5,038
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: Okay, so this got into my head and I couldn't get it out. It's after the main story of Reynard, Addison, and Bliss. Just pits and pieces of their lives after their adventure it over. It's sad. But it's also a brownie which is part of my summer goal. I'll get back to Vala's story now. Hopefully no more rogue plot bunnies attack me!
“You don’t have to do this,” Bliss said. Reynard wondered how many times he would have to hear that in his lifetime. According to the people around him he seemingly never had to do anything. The thing that irked him the most about it was that it was always about things that he was absolutely certain he did have to do. They were usually difficult things, things that went against his nature, but that was what underscored to him that he had to do them. If no one did things that were hard to do nothing real would ever get accomplished. So he shook his head when she said it and looked straight ahead down the long trail of flowers and ribbons that had been set up. Even if he wanted to back out it was too late. It looked like the whole kingdom had come out for the wedding. There was no way he could escape without being seen for the coward that his heart tried to convince him that he was. “Thank you,” she said when it was clear he wasn’t leaving and wasn’t commenting. Her voice wavered a little and he felt himself reach across with his free hand and take hers. She squeezed tightly and seemed comforted by the simple gesture.
It was always going to be this way, he thought to himself as the music swelled and they began their march through the decorated city streets, with one of us at her side and the other at the alter. He couldn’t lie to himself. He had imagined it the other way around with Addison escorting her and him the waiting groom. It was nothing more than a fantasy, of course, as knights of the Order could not take wives. Addison was king now and the rules did not rightly apply to him. While a knight of the Order was meant to remain celibate the king was obliged to marry and create heirs. Better this than any other choice, he insisted to himself. This was best for Bliss, best for Addison, and best for himself as well. His temptation would be taken away when his friends were bonded in matrimony. There would be no more secret thoughts of running away from his vows. He could simply be a knight again.
“The whole country rejoices for you,” he said in an attempt at making conversation and blocking out his thoughts. Part of his heart keened it’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair and another sneered punishment, punishment, punishment. He deserved it, but what was the “it”? Was it her and the happy life he might have had that he deserved? Or was it the penance for breaking his vows that he deserved? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he hurt. Deep within his chest he hurt like nothing he had ever felt before.
“A slave that became a queen. It’s romantic, I guess.” Bliss laughed a little, forced and short. He wondered what she felt and thought at this moment but he didn’t dare ask. Whatever her answer he could not stand to hear it.
“It’s inspiring,” he responded. All around them peasants cheered. He tried to drown it all out. He could pretend, for a little while, that they were just walking. This was not a wedding march. This was not the end of his adventure into love.
“No more than what you’ve achieved.” He could see her smiling from the corner of his eye and tried to focus his attention elsewhere. He didn’t want to see her. “A farmer that grew up to be the best knight in the kingdom. That’s the sort of bedtime story I would’ve liked.”
“I’m not the best knight in the kingdom,” he muttered. How could you be the best knight in the kingdom when you broke your vows? His eyes burned with tears. His throat ached. He was grateful that he had spent most of his life with a displeased expression on his face so that no one would be the wiser now to his internal conflict. Bliss seemed to pick up on what he was thinking and allowed the topic to drop. He almost wished she had continued. It would be easier to be angry with her than what he felt now. “Addison will be a good husband. You won’t want for anything. He will work at the freedom of your people.” He let out a labored breath. “He will not cheat on you.”
“I wouldn’t care if he did,” she said casually. Reynard wondered what people would think if they could hear her. No one could over the sounds of cheering and music, but if they could? Bliss didn’t seem to care about the decorum that she lacked. Reynard’s mind reeled.
“How can you say that?” They were made for each other, he thought with the slightest bit of bitterness. Addison had offered to allow Reynard and Bliss to remain as lovers despite the marriage. Reynard had been appalled and refused, but apparently adultery didn’t weigh heavy on either of his friends’ minds.
“I’m the only one not being forced to do things against my will today,” she said with a sigh. “Addison doesn’t want to marry me. He loves you too much and respects the Order too much. He may have been lax with them but he cherishes those vows you both took. Addison’s only marrying me because he has to, because it’s the right thing to do. If he wanted to carry on affairs and maybe meet someone he actually loved in a romantic way I wouldn’t stand in his way. I know he said he wouldn’t stand in mine.” Reynard could feel her looking at him. He kept his gaze straight. They were entering the courtyards in the center of the city. Fountains gurgled lazily and as they walked people tossed bits of paper that had been soaked in scented oils in the path.
“He should respect his new vows. You both should.” He tried not to let any of his emotions show. They were almost at the end. This was the last time he would speak to her without the wall of courtesy between them. She would be his queen and he would need to know her in only that way. He would need to forget the feel of her lips against his, the soft swell of her chest, the scent of her the taste of her the-
“Reynard?” He swallowed a particularly painful lump in his throat.
“Yes?”
“You’re right. You aren’t the best knight in the country.” His heart sank a little. She was right, of course, and he had insisted upon it himself. His guts wriggled sadly and he felt sick. He was terrible. She knew it finally. “You’re the best person.” She said as she placed a kiss on his cheek and untwined her arm from his. Addison reached out and clasped him around the forearm as was their custom.
At least, he thought to himself as he stood to the side, everyone will think these are tears of joy.
***
“Oh,” Bliss said dumbly when she noticed that Reynard was alone in the room she had entered. He tensed, his breath catching in his chest, and simply looked at her. She looked so different than she had ten years ago, though it was more than age that had changed her. Her hair was longer, her body healthier, her clothes more than just dirty scraps. Royalty suited her, though he supposed it might suit anyone. “I thought Addison was here. I have something to tell him,” she explained after a moment of silence. Reynard shifted and placed a hand on his belt.
“No. He just left.” His tone was brusque and formal. “I should go.” He bowed at the waist and then began quickly heading for the exit. Bliss held out a hand and brushed his arm as he passed her by.
“Reynard, wait.” He did was he was told and stopped. She lowered her hand, her fingertips trailing along his arm until they fell away. He repressed the shudder that ran through him and refused to look in her direction.
“I do not wish to make it a habit to correct a queen, but you should refer to me by my title lest anyone speak of too much familiarity between us.” He hated how stilted he sounded in his own ears. He felt fake when he was around her. With a light nod of his head he made to continue his exit.
“Stop. Stay. Talk to me.” Reynard hesitated. He could just walk out of the room as was his initial intention. Bliss wouldn’t punish him and there was no one around to see. It would be rude of him but he would feel better for having done it. He must have been wearing his thoughts on his sleeve because she added, “That’s an order as your queen.” His shoulders slumped and he turned slightly so that he was facing her.
“Well?” He asked, surprised by the snippiness he heard in his voice. It was easier to be flippant with her than to allow himself any other emotion. He might have hated her if he was any other sort of person. This was no longer the Bliss that he had loved and he tried to cling to that whenever his heart felt especially vulnerable. He had watched that young woman come into her own, seen her grow confidant and sure, fallen in love with her and then gave her to best friend. Now she was a queen and a mother and a wife. She was different. He cursed himself for how pettily he hoarded her memories inside him.
“I miss you,” she said. He felt himself collapsing inwards. This. This was why he didn’t speak to her. This was why he avoided her. “You joke and smile and laugh with Addison as if nothing has changed. How is that fair? You were my friend too.”
“Your grace,” he started.
“No!” She interrupted and pointed a finger at him. “Don’t think of me as your queen right now. Think of me as Bliss, your friend.” She was glaring, her eyebrows drawn tightly together. Despite himself Reynard smiled slightly.
“If I were thinking of you as only my friend I wouldn’t have to obey your order to stay.” His voice was a whisper, but they were standing close enough that she heard it. When had they started standing so closely? Had he done this? His body trembled as she let out a small, short laugh. Her expression changed to one of sadness.
“Leave then,” was all she said. He frowned and sighed.
“I can’t.”
“Stay then,” she murmured hopefully. He looked down at his boots and fisted his hands.
“I can’t,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You know this is the first time we’ve spoken alone in years.” She seemed to ignore his discomfort. He looked up and she was standing with her arms crossed over her chest looking at him. He couldn’t read her expression. “That’s certainly more suspicious than me forgetting to call you Sir Reynard. If someone was going to start a rumor-“
“It hurts too much. Can’t you see that?” He yelled, cutting off the inane prattle that she was no doubt using just to fill the silence. “I can’t be around you. I just… I just can’t. I don’t trust myself.” His breathing was coming out with a sharp wheeze. His chest clenched painfully around his heart. He wanted to grab her, hold her, kiss her, love her. He restrained himself as he had been doing for years, but still he felt his skin crawl with disgust. He was a weak, ruined man.
“Addison trusts you,” she replied and reached out a hand to touch him. “I trust you.” He stepped away from her comfort and looked down at the floor again.
“You shouldn’t.” His voice cracked and he cursed the tears he felt freely flowing. “I would give it all up-my honor, my duty-and live as a craven liar with no sense of justice or virtue for the chance to be with you.” He pounded a fist against his chest as if physically fighting his treacherous heart. “I am a worthless knight. I broke my vows and even now I treasure those actions. Addison should have sent me away! I’m bitter and I’m angry and I’m jealous.” He covered his face with his hand and sobbed one terrible barking sob into his palm. “I think of taking you for myself,” he admitted in a low voice. He hated himself, but he could not hide behind silence anymore.
“Why don’t you?” Reynard slid his hand from his face, now slick with tears, and stared at Bliss. His brief and ugly display of emotion had calmed him enough that he could function again. His chest felt strangely hollow. It was comforting.
“Love. For Addison. For you.” They stood awkwardly silent in front of each other. Bliss looked pained to have seen him in such a way. A part of him ached all the worse because he had destroyed the fantasy that he had lived under. If she had still carried her love for him in her heart would she not have thrown herself upon him in this moment of weakness? No. Bliss had cast aside the silly notions they had had in youth and dedicated herself to her husband and family. As she should. He swallowed and straightened himself and his clothes. “What were you going to tell Addison?” She looked up at him and for the first time in years he saw the swirling change of her eyes. His body warmed at the sight.
“I’m pregnant again.”
***
“I don’t want to practice anymore,” the boy complained, lowering his bow and letting the arrow fall from its notch into the grass. “My fingers are bleeding.” Prince Aidan held the offending digits up for the knight to see. There were thin, straight cuts on his index and middle fingers. The blood was minimal and Reynard was reminded of how averse to blood Addison had been all those years ago.
“That’s because you aren’t doing it right.” Aidan scowled at him and brought his fingers under closer inspection. Reynard was more concerned for the knuckles on his other hand which he had noticed were being rubbed raw. Aidan was gifted at many things but archery was not one of them. It was partially due to the fact that the prince was averse to working at things that did not come easily to him. It was a character trait that frustrated Reynard, one that he recalled from his days in the academy with Addison. When Addison found a task too hard or tiresome for his natural ability he would make light of it. Unlike his son, however, Addison had always pushed himself to try to master whatever it was that was giving him trouble. Aidan was more inclined to simply give up and hone those skills which he had instantly become good at.
“I don’t really think I’ll have much use for using the bow,” Aidan explained. “Besides, if I got too good at archery I’d supplant you as the best archer in the kingdom and then what would you have?” He smiled in the offhanded way that Addison had. “It’s really for you that I insist on failing at this meaningless hobby.”
“I’m hardly the best archer in the country,” Reynard said with as much feigned good spirit as he could manage. The prince was standing with the bow dangling from one of his hands while he had the other ruffling the sweat from his strawberry-blonde curls. The whole attitude was meant to be disarming but instead it caused the hair on the back of Reynard’s neck to stand up in agitation. “You’re just like your father,” he growled with far more venom in his voice then he had ever thought might leak out. Aidan jumped at the sound, staring at his teacher and guardian with wide blue-green eyes. The shock lasted only a second though and the boy’s smile gave way to a tense frown.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He insisted. Reynard knew he should back down, apologize, let the boy go off and spend his day as he pleased. But he couldn’t. He tried to open his mouth and make the words come out but he was too angry. Aidan had always been particularly good at getting under his skin. While the knight should have been used to such things after spending so many decades with Addison he found that whatever it was that had let his friend escape his ire Aidan lacked that trait. He irritated and annoyed and pushed Reynard to the brink of his senses. A dark part of him wondered if he merely hated the boy on principle. He had been conceived on their wedding night, or that was what was said, and was a permanent testament to the fact that Bliss had jumped from his side to Addison’s with barely a night between them. His existence stung Reynard’s ego even after all these years.
“It means you’re inclined to be lazy and hope that others will do the work you don’t want to do yourself.” The prince laughed harshly and a rude smile curled its way onto his lips.
“Isn’t that the point of being born with royal blood?” He looked down at the bow he was still dangling and childishly tossed it to the side. Reynard ground his teeth. “You should probably clean all this mess up.” The prince crossed his arms over his chest in overt challenge to Reynard’s authority over him. If he had been younger and this had not been the prince he was sworn to protect and they were simply students in the Order he would have pushed him to the ground. Aidan was thin as a rail like his mother had been and one good shove would have sent him flying. But they were not of the same age and this was the prince and he could not lower himself to get in a shoving match with a teenaged boy.
“You’re going to force me to tell your father about his behavior if you don’t stop.”
“As if you wouldn’t tell him anyway,” Aidan snapped. Reynard’s anger cooled slightly as he realized that this was not simply Aidan being obnoxious for the sake of being obnoxious. He was upset at Reynard though for what the knight had no idea.
“What’s the matter, Aidan?” He tried asking softly. He had known the boy his entire life. He had watched him grow and learn and change. There was confidence between them. There was trust. The prince looked at him through squinted eyes as if trying to decipher a trick.
“I heard a rumor yesterday.” He said it simply, offhandedly as if wasn’t what had spurred him to be so difficult. Reynard’s throat went dry. He had always feared a rumor about his broken vows, his affections for the queen. He bent down and picked up the discarded bow and arrow so that the movement might mask his discomfort.
“It’s not honorable to spread gossip,” he said. Aidan rolled his eyes and turned his body at an angle away from Reynard. “What did you hear?’
“Something about you.” There was a pause. Reynard’s heart beat sharply. He swallowed loudly. This was it. The end of everything he had cultivated. “Something about you and my father.” Aidan strung the words together slowly as if they were hard for him to say and understand. Reynard could see the hurt on the boy’s face and understood that he had not angled himself away to be spiteful but to avoid Reynard seeing his discomfort. “They said that my mother had to beg my father to marry her. They said that he didn’t want to do it because… because he loved you.” Aidan wheeled around so quickly that Reynard thought he was about to attack him. He didn’t. He simply looked at him imploringly, angry in his youth and silly enough to be strung along by idle tales.
“It’s not my place to say who a king loves and doesn’t love.” The boy scowled. Reynard forced himself to smile. “Your father and I were trained together to be knights of the Order of the Hound. We were brought to look at each other as brothers. So when I say that I love him as more than just my king I mean it in the way that a brother loves a brother. I would imagine that your father feels that way about me as well.” He felt his smile grow a bit more natural and relaxed. “You did used to call me Uncle Reynard, didn’t you?” Aidan looked down at his feet. His scowl was gone and it seemed he was thinking over what Reynard had said to him. With a shrug he looked up at him again.
“I guess you’re right.” His face lit up with an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I suppose I just felt so angry for my mother.”
“All is forgiven,” Reynard said, clapping the boy on his back. Feel bad for your father, his mind betrayed him by thinking. Feel bad for me.
“I should have known it was just a lie. I’ve never seen someone so in love with someone else as father is with mother.” He shook his head, talking less to Reynard and more to himself to work his thoughts out. “It’s silly the way he is with her.” Reynard felt his tentative smile fade away as the boy spoke aloud. That part of the rumor hadn’t been a lie. Addison hadn’t wanted Bliss to be his wife. Reynard knew he could never crush the boy with such a truth and pushed it to the darkness of his heart. “Are you going to tell my father?” Aidan asked sheepishly. His expressive faced was worked into a frown. Reynard patted his back once more and then nodded. “Do you think he’ll be upset with me for listening to it?”
“No,” Reynard answered without a second thought. “Your father likes things like that. He’ll probably insist on hugging me more in public just to spite the rumors.” He sighed, dreading suddenly the fact that he would need to relay the information to Addison. “He’s a very strange man.”
“We must be a little related, after all,” Aidan commented cheerfully, “because I think the same thing about him.” He laughed in way that reminded Reynard too much of Addison and hurt his stomach just to hear. Laughter that was full enough to stand on its own without any real joke behind it.
“Let’s get back to work.” Aidan pursed his lips in disappointment but took the weapons from Reynard’s hands and set himself up to begin practicing again. The lack of back talk was likely his true form of apology and Reynard was grateful for that. His mind was too busy now to deal with such things. He thought of telling Addison about the rumor. He thought of what he would have to do with the person spreading it. He thought of Bliss and how close everything had almost come just then to being ruined. The rumor hadn’t been entirely off point in any case. How long until the facts were corrected by numerous retellings and soon it wasn’t Addison and Reynard in the affair that nearly ceased the wedding but Reynard and Bliss? How long until the fiction gave way to the truth?
***
“And what did you bring the queem for her birthday, Sir Reynard?” Addison asked eagerly. He king leaned forward in his throne, excited by the events of the day and looking so much the boy that Reynard had grown up with. Reynard kept his face neutral as he often did when in front of audiences. Alone he could be around Addison the way they had always been, but in public he was Sir Reynard, First Knight to the King and thus needed to act in a way that befitted his station.
“If it pleases Queen Bliss, I went to the Elder Wood and settled a land dispute, confronted a group of robbers, and was forced to kill three men that had been committing murder.” He said from his place kneeling on the floor. It was an archaic tradition that the queen had never been fond of participating in. In her mind the knights did tasks that were bid them all year long. Why would they be allowed to choose their own because it was her or Addison or her children’s birthday? What if the knights chose some horrific thing to do in her name? She went along with it because there had been many changes over the course of Addison’s rule and keeping some traditions the same did well to nurture peace. Reynard didn’t think that Addison would have allowed her to banish this tradition even if that hadn’t been the case. Addison had always loved this from the time he was a prince to the time he was a knight and now as a king.
“It pleases me,” she said and for the first time that day Reynard swore she meant it. He had watched the other knights recite their actions and display their small tokens. Bliss smiled and nodded and thanked them all, but Reynard had doubted that any truly brought her pleasure. Each time she had recited her response he had seen Addison reach over and grip her hand tenderly in encouragement. Just a little while longer, you’re doing fantastic, I love you the action said. When Addison didn’t reach over to take her hand and merely smiled and nodded for Reynard to continue the knight knew that he had done well.
“I bring as proof of my adventures the night flowers that grow in that area of our land.” He looked up at her from his place and fought hard against the smile tried to break against his features as he watched her eyebrows rise in surprise. As the queen she did not have to hide her smile. It was soft and small and practiced, but beautiful none the less.
“Approach,” she said calmly and Reynard stood. He strode carefully up the steps to the dais on which the king and queen had their thrones. Once he reached as close as decorum allowed he dropped back to one knee again and offered her a parcel of wrapped velvet. She took it, her fingers brushing against his, and slowly unwound the velvet so that she might see inside. Her face was a combination of sadness and happiness and Reynard ached at the sight of her.
“I think they are a fitting gift for the queen,” he said. She looked up, a little surprised since it was not Reynard’s habit to speak to her when he gave her these birthday gifts.
“Oh?” He nodded and licked his lips, nervous suddenly with his heart pounding in his ears. He was sweating in his fancy clothes. At the edge of his vision he could see Addison watching him as well, curious as to this break in Reynard’s stoic character.
“A young woman once told me that these flowers shine in the light of the moon to keep it from getting jealous of the daylight. The moon thinks they are simply stars and leaves every morning, none the wiser of the beauty that was right under its nose.”
“And this reminds of your queen?” She asked perhaps a bit more playfully than was proper. Reynard knew he should bow his head, avert his eyes, leave what had already been too long a private moment. He did none of those things. He looked at her straight in the eyes and simply said,
“Yes.” They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment that felt stretched out and far too short all at the same time for Reynard. He might not have looked away if he hadn’t caught movement from Addison, seen his king turn his face away from his wife and most honored knight, watched the look of hurt understanding hath in his best friend’s eyes. His stomach sank and quickly he bowed his head to them and retreated. He took his place at the table that had been set aside for people of the king’s inner circle as well as his children.
“Uncle Reynard, that was such a romantic gift!” Princess Grace squealed happily. “Magic flowers!” She sighed and pretended to swoon. Reynard smiled at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder lovingly. She reminded him so much of everything good and wonderful that he had always loved in Addison. She was only six and still viewed the world as a place of joy and beauty. It broke Reynard’s heart to think that she might someday be forced to realize it wasn’t. “Uncle Reynard,” she said with a small, shocked voice, “you’re shaking!” He smiled at her concerned face and kissed her lightly on the top of her golden curls.
“I suppose I’m just getting too old for so much kneeling,” he lied. His eyes sought out the dais again and watched the bored expression of the queen as she continued to accept her gifts. At the same moment Addison looked over and caught Reynard’s stare. The king reached over and grasped his wife’s hand as he had been doing all day. But this time it was not for Bliss’ benefit but for Reynard’s and whatever small part of his heart had remained to him broke apart in that moment. He had crossed a line. He had hurt his king. He tore his gaze away and looked down instead at Grace, the little girl that in a different life might have been his own.
“I think Mama really liked the present,” she was saying to him and Prince Aidan, though the older boy seemed to care little for the event. Perhaps even less than his mother.
“That’s the only thing I care about,” he said to the princess. This time he wasn’t lying.
CHALLENGE: Lemon Lime Sorbet 10. What you do to me; Ambrosia 26. "Later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake"; caramel; brownie
WORD COUNT: 5,038
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: Okay, so this got into my head and I couldn't get it out. It's after the main story of Reynard, Addison, and Bliss. Just pits and pieces of their lives after their adventure it over. It's sad. But it's also a brownie which is part of my summer goal. I'll get back to Vala's story now. Hopefully no more rogue plot bunnies attack me!
“You don’t have to do this,” Bliss said. Reynard wondered how many times he would have to hear that in his lifetime. According to the people around him he seemingly never had to do anything. The thing that irked him the most about it was that it was always about things that he was absolutely certain he did have to do. They were usually difficult things, things that went against his nature, but that was what underscored to him that he had to do them. If no one did things that were hard to do nothing real would ever get accomplished. So he shook his head when she said it and looked straight ahead down the long trail of flowers and ribbons that had been set up. Even if he wanted to back out it was too late. It looked like the whole kingdom had come out for the wedding. There was no way he could escape without being seen for the coward that his heart tried to convince him that he was. “Thank you,” she said when it was clear he wasn’t leaving and wasn’t commenting. Her voice wavered a little and he felt himself reach across with his free hand and take hers. She squeezed tightly and seemed comforted by the simple gesture.
It was always going to be this way, he thought to himself as the music swelled and they began their march through the decorated city streets, with one of us at her side and the other at the alter. He couldn’t lie to himself. He had imagined it the other way around with Addison escorting her and him the waiting groom. It was nothing more than a fantasy, of course, as knights of the Order could not take wives. Addison was king now and the rules did not rightly apply to him. While a knight of the Order was meant to remain celibate the king was obliged to marry and create heirs. Better this than any other choice, he insisted to himself. This was best for Bliss, best for Addison, and best for himself as well. His temptation would be taken away when his friends were bonded in matrimony. There would be no more secret thoughts of running away from his vows. He could simply be a knight again.
“The whole country rejoices for you,” he said in an attempt at making conversation and blocking out his thoughts. Part of his heart keened it’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair and another sneered punishment, punishment, punishment. He deserved it, but what was the “it”? Was it her and the happy life he might have had that he deserved? Or was it the penance for breaking his vows that he deserved? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he hurt. Deep within his chest he hurt like nothing he had ever felt before.
“A slave that became a queen. It’s romantic, I guess.” Bliss laughed a little, forced and short. He wondered what she felt and thought at this moment but he didn’t dare ask. Whatever her answer he could not stand to hear it.
“It’s inspiring,” he responded. All around them peasants cheered. He tried to drown it all out. He could pretend, for a little while, that they were just walking. This was not a wedding march. This was not the end of his adventure into love.
“No more than what you’ve achieved.” He could see her smiling from the corner of his eye and tried to focus his attention elsewhere. He didn’t want to see her. “A farmer that grew up to be the best knight in the kingdom. That’s the sort of bedtime story I would’ve liked.”
“I’m not the best knight in the kingdom,” he muttered. How could you be the best knight in the kingdom when you broke your vows? His eyes burned with tears. His throat ached. He was grateful that he had spent most of his life with a displeased expression on his face so that no one would be the wiser now to his internal conflict. Bliss seemed to pick up on what he was thinking and allowed the topic to drop. He almost wished she had continued. It would be easier to be angry with her than what he felt now. “Addison will be a good husband. You won’t want for anything. He will work at the freedom of your people.” He let out a labored breath. “He will not cheat on you.”
“I wouldn’t care if he did,” she said casually. Reynard wondered what people would think if they could hear her. No one could over the sounds of cheering and music, but if they could? Bliss didn’t seem to care about the decorum that she lacked. Reynard’s mind reeled.
“How can you say that?” They were made for each other, he thought with the slightest bit of bitterness. Addison had offered to allow Reynard and Bliss to remain as lovers despite the marriage. Reynard had been appalled and refused, but apparently adultery didn’t weigh heavy on either of his friends’ minds.
“I’m the only one not being forced to do things against my will today,” she said with a sigh. “Addison doesn’t want to marry me. He loves you too much and respects the Order too much. He may have been lax with them but he cherishes those vows you both took. Addison’s only marrying me because he has to, because it’s the right thing to do. If he wanted to carry on affairs and maybe meet someone he actually loved in a romantic way I wouldn’t stand in his way. I know he said he wouldn’t stand in mine.” Reynard could feel her looking at him. He kept his gaze straight. They were entering the courtyards in the center of the city. Fountains gurgled lazily and as they walked people tossed bits of paper that had been soaked in scented oils in the path.
“He should respect his new vows. You both should.” He tried not to let any of his emotions show. They were almost at the end. This was the last time he would speak to her without the wall of courtesy between them. She would be his queen and he would need to know her in only that way. He would need to forget the feel of her lips against his, the soft swell of her chest, the scent of her the taste of her the-
“Reynard?” He swallowed a particularly painful lump in his throat.
“Yes?”
“You’re right. You aren’t the best knight in the country.” His heart sank a little. She was right, of course, and he had insisted upon it himself. His guts wriggled sadly and he felt sick. He was terrible. She knew it finally. “You’re the best person.” She said as she placed a kiss on his cheek and untwined her arm from his. Addison reached out and clasped him around the forearm as was their custom.
At least, he thought to himself as he stood to the side, everyone will think these are tears of joy.
***
“Oh,” Bliss said dumbly when she noticed that Reynard was alone in the room she had entered. He tensed, his breath catching in his chest, and simply looked at her. She looked so different than she had ten years ago, though it was more than age that had changed her. Her hair was longer, her body healthier, her clothes more than just dirty scraps. Royalty suited her, though he supposed it might suit anyone. “I thought Addison was here. I have something to tell him,” she explained after a moment of silence. Reynard shifted and placed a hand on his belt.
“No. He just left.” His tone was brusque and formal. “I should go.” He bowed at the waist and then began quickly heading for the exit. Bliss held out a hand and brushed his arm as he passed her by.
“Reynard, wait.” He did was he was told and stopped. She lowered her hand, her fingertips trailing along his arm until they fell away. He repressed the shudder that ran through him and refused to look in her direction.
“I do not wish to make it a habit to correct a queen, but you should refer to me by my title lest anyone speak of too much familiarity between us.” He hated how stilted he sounded in his own ears. He felt fake when he was around her. With a light nod of his head he made to continue his exit.
“Stop. Stay. Talk to me.” Reynard hesitated. He could just walk out of the room as was his initial intention. Bliss wouldn’t punish him and there was no one around to see. It would be rude of him but he would feel better for having done it. He must have been wearing his thoughts on his sleeve because she added, “That’s an order as your queen.” His shoulders slumped and he turned slightly so that he was facing her.
“Well?” He asked, surprised by the snippiness he heard in his voice. It was easier to be flippant with her than to allow himself any other emotion. He might have hated her if he was any other sort of person. This was no longer the Bliss that he had loved and he tried to cling to that whenever his heart felt especially vulnerable. He had watched that young woman come into her own, seen her grow confidant and sure, fallen in love with her and then gave her to best friend. Now she was a queen and a mother and a wife. She was different. He cursed himself for how pettily he hoarded her memories inside him.
“I miss you,” she said. He felt himself collapsing inwards. This. This was why he didn’t speak to her. This was why he avoided her. “You joke and smile and laugh with Addison as if nothing has changed. How is that fair? You were my friend too.”
“Your grace,” he started.
“No!” She interrupted and pointed a finger at him. “Don’t think of me as your queen right now. Think of me as Bliss, your friend.” She was glaring, her eyebrows drawn tightly together. Despite himself Reynard smiled slightly.
“If I were thinking of you as only my friend I wouldn’t have to obey your order to stay.” His voice was a whisper, but they were standing close enough that she heard it. When had they started standing so closely? Had he done this? His body trembled as she let out a small, short laugh. Her expression changed to one of sadness.
“Leave then,” was all she said. He frowned and sighed.
“I can’t.”
“Stay then,” she murmured hopefully. He looked down at his boots and fisted his hands.
“I can’t,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You know this is the first time we’ve spoken alone in years.” She seemed to ignore his discomfort. He looked up and she was standing with her arms crossed over her chest looking at him. He couldn’t read her expression. “That’s certainly more suspicious than me forgetting to call you Sir Reynard. If someone was going to start a rumor-“
“It hurts too much. Can’t you see that?” He yelled, cutting off the inane prattle that she was no doubt using just to fill the silence. “I can’t be around you. I just… I just can’t. I don’t trust myself.” His breathing was coming out with a sharp wheeze. His chest clenched painfully around his heart. He wanted to grab her, hold her, kiss her, love her. He restrained himself as he had been doing for years, but still he felt his skin crawl with disgust. He was a weak, ruined man.
“Addison trusts you,” she replied and reached out a hand to touch him. “I trust you.” He stepped away from her comfort and looked down at the floor again.
“You shouldn’t.” His voice cracked and he cursed the tears he felt freely flowing. “I would give it all up-my honor, my duty-and live as a craven liar with no sense of justice or virtue for the chance to be with you.” He pounded a fist against his chest as if physically fighting his treacherous heart. “I am a worthless knight. I broke my vows and even now I treasure those actions. Addison should have sent me away! I’m bitter and I’m angry and I’m jealous.” He covered his face with his hand and sobbed one terrible barking sob into his palm. “I think of taking you for myself,” he admitted in a low voice. He hated himself, but he could not hide behind silence anymore.
“Why don’t you?” Reynard slid his hand from his face, now slick with tears, and stared at Bliss. His brief and ugly display of emotion had calmed him enough that he could function again. His chest felt strangely hollow. It was comforting.
“Love. For Addison. For you.” They stood awkwardly silent in front of each other. Bliss looked pained to have seen him in such a way. A part of him ached all the worse because he had destroyed the fantasy that he had lived under. If she had still carried her love for him in her heart would she not have thrown herself upon him in this moment of weakness? No. Bliss had cast aside the silly notions they had had in youth and dedicated herself to her husband and family. As she should. He swallowed and straightened himself and his clothes. “What were you going to tell Addison?” She looked up at him and for the first time in years he saw the swirling change of her eyes. His body warmed at the sight.
“I’m pregnant again.”
***
“I don’t want to practice anymore,” the boy complained, lowering his bow and letting the arrow fall from its notch into the grass. “My fingers are bleeding.” Prince Aidan held the offending digits up for the knight to see. There were thin, straight cuts on his index and middle fingers. The blood was minimal and Reynard was reminded of how averse to blood Addison had been all those years ago.
“That’s because you aren’t doing it right.” Aidan scowled at him and brought his fingers under closer inspection. Reynard was more concerned for the knuckles on his other hand which he had noticed were being rubbed raw. Aidan was gifted at many things but archery was not one of them. It was partially due to the fact that the prince was averse to working at things that did not come easily to him. It was a character trait that frustrated Reynard, one that he recalled from his days in the academy with Addison. When Addison found a task too hard or tiresome for his natural ability he would make light of it. Unlike his son, however, Addison had always pushed himself to try to master whatever it was that was giving him trouble. Aidan was more inclined to simply give up and hone those skills which he had instantly become good at.
“I don’t really think I’ll have much use for using the bow,” Aidan explained. “Besides, if I got too good at archery I’d supplant you as the best archer in the kingdom and then what would you have?” He smiled in the offhanded way that Addison had. “It’s really for you that I insist on failing at this meaningless hobby.”
“I’m hardly the best archer in the country,” Reynard said with as much feigned good spirit as he could manage. The prince was standing with the bow dangling from one of his hands while he had the other ruffling the sweat from his strawberry-blonde curls. The whole attitude was meant to be disarming but instead it caused the hair on the back of Reynard’s neck to stand up in agitation. “You’re just like your father,” he growled with far more venom in his voice then he had ever thought might leak out. Aidan jumped at the sound, staring at his teacher and guardian with wide blue-green eyes. The shock lasted only a second though and the boy’s smile gave way to a tense frown.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He insisted. Reynard knew he should back down, apologize, let the boy go off and spend his day as he pleased. But he couldn’t. He tried to open his mouth and make the words come out but he was too angry. Aidan had always been particularly good at getting under his skin. While the knight should have been used to such things after spending so many decades with Addison he found that whatever it was that had let his friend escape his ire Aidan lacked that trait. He irritated and annoyed and pushed Reynard to the brink of his senses. A dark part of him wondered if he merely hated the boy on principle. He had been conceived on their wedding night, or that was what was said, and was a permanent testament to the fact that Bliss had jumped from his side to Addison’s with barely a night between them. His existence stung Reynard’s ego even after all these years.
“It means you’re inclined to be lazy and hope that others will do the work you don’t want to do yourself.” The prince laughed harshly and a rude smile curled its way onto his lips.
“Isn’t that the point of being born with royal blood?” He looked down at the bow he was still dangling and childishly tossed it to the side. Reynard ground his teeth. “You should probably clean all this mess up.” The prince crossed his arms over his chest in overt challenge to Reynard’s authority over him. If he had been younger and this had not been the prince he was sworn to protect and they were simply students in the Order he would have pushed him to the ground. Aidan was thin as a rail like his mother had been and one good shove would have sent him flying. But they were not of the same age and this was the prince and he could not lower himself to get in a shoving match with a teenaged boy.
“You’re going to force me to tell your father about his behavior if you don’t stop.”
“As if you wouldn’t tell him anyway,” Aidan snapped. Reynard’s anger cooled slightly as he realized that this was not simply Aidan being obnoxious for the sake of being obnoxious. He was upset at Reynard though for what the knight had no idea.
“What’s the matter, Aidan?” He tried asking softly. He had known the boy his entire life. He had watched him grow and learn and change. There was confidence between them. There was trust. The prince looked at him through squinted eyes as if trying to decipher a trick.
“I heard a rumor yesterday.” He said it simply, offhandedly as if wasn’t what had spurred him to be so difficult. Reynard’s throat went dry. He had always feared a rumor about his broken vows, his affections for the queen. He bent down and picked up the discarded bow and arrow so that the movement might mask his discomfort.
“It’s not honorable to spread gossip,” he said. Aidan rolled his eyes and turned his body at an angle away from Reynard. “What did you hear?’
“Something about you.” There was a pause. Reynard’s heart beat sharply. He swallowed loudly. This was it. The end of everything he had cultivated. “Something about you and my father.” Aidan strung the words together slowly as if they were hard for him to say and understand. Reynard could see the hurt on the boy’s face and understood that he had not angled himself away to be spiteful but to avoid Reynard seeing his discomfort. “They said that my mother had to beg my father to marry her. They said that he didn’t want to do it because… because he loved you.” Aidan wheeled around so quickly that Reynard thought he was about to attack him. He didn’t. He simply looked at him imploringly, angry in his youth and silly enough to be strung along by idle tales.
“It’s not my place to say who a king loves and doesn’t love.” The boy scowled. Reynard forced himself to smile. “Your father and I were trained together to be knights of the Order of the Hound. We were brought to look at each other as brothers. So when I say that I love him as more than just my king I mean it in the way that a brother loves a brother. I would imagine that your father feels that way about me as well.” He felt his smile grow a bit more natural and relaxed. “You did used to call me Uncle Reynard, didn’t you?” Aidan looked down at his feet. His scowl was gone and it seemed he was thinking over what Reynard had said to him. With a shrug he looked up at him again.
“I guess you’re right.” His face lit up with an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I suppose I just felt so angry for my mother.”
“All is forgiven,” Reynard said, clapping the boy on his back. Feel bad for your father, his mind betrayed him by thinking. Feel bad for me.
“I should have known it was just a lie. I’ve never seen someone so in love with someone else as father is with mother.” He shook his head, talking less to Reynard and more to himself to work his thoughts out. “It’s silly the way he is with her.” Reynard felt his tentative smile fade away as the boy spoke aloud. That part of the rumor hadn’t been a lie. Addison hadn’t wanted Bliss to be his wife. Reynard knew he could never crush the boy with such a truth and pushed it to the darkness of his heart. “Are you going to tell my father?” Aidan asked sheepishly. His expressive faced was worked into a frown. Reynard patted his back once more and then nodded. “Do you think he’ll be upset with me for listening to it?”
“No,” Reynard answered without a second thought. “Your father likes things like that. He’ll probably insist on hugging me more in public just to spite the rumors.” He sighed, dreading suddenly the fact that he would need to relay the information to Addison. “He’s a very strange man.”
“We must be a little related, after all,” Aidan commented cheerfully, “because I think the same thing about him.” He laughed in way that reminded Reynard too much of Addison and hurt his stomach just to hear. Laughter that was full enough to stand on its own without any real joke behind it.
“Let’s get back to work.” Aidan pursed his lips in disappointment but took the weapons from Reynard’s hands and set himself up to begin practicing again. The lack of back talk was likely his true form of apology and Reynard was grateful for that. His mind was too busy now to deal with such things. He thought of telling Addison about the rumor. He thought of what he would have to do with the person spreading it. He thought of Bliss and how close everything had almost come just then to being ruined. The rumor hadn’t been entirely off point in any case. How long until the facts were corrected by numerous retellings and soon it wasn’t Addison and Reynard in the affair that nearly ceased the wedding but Reynard and Bliss? How long until the fiction gave way to the truth?
***
“And what did you bring the queem for her birthday, Sir Reynard?” Addison asked eagerly. He king leaned forward in his throne, excited by the events of the day and looking so much the boy that Reynard had grown up with. Reynard kept his face neutral as he often did when in front of audiences. Alone he could be around Addison the way they had always been, but in public he was Sir Reynard, First Knight to the King and thus needed to act in a way that befitted his station.
“If it pleases Queen Bliss, I went to the Elder Wood and settled a land dispute, confronted a group of robbers, and was forced to kill three men that had been committing murder.” He said from his place kneeling on the floor. It was an archaic tradition that the queen had never been fond of participating in. In her mind the knights did tasks that were bid them all year long. Why would they be allowed to choose their own because it was her or Addison or her children’s birthday? What if the knights chose some horrific thing to do in her name? She went along with it because there had been many changes over the course of Addison’s rule and keeping some traditions the same did well to nurture peace. Reynard didn’t think that Addison would have allowed her to banish this tradition even if that hadn’t been the case. Addison had always loved this from the time he was a prince to the time he was a knight and now as a king.
“It pleases me,” she said and for the first time that day Reynard swore she meant it. He had watched the other knights recite their actions and display their small tokens. Bliss smiled and nodded and thanked them all, but Reynard had doubted that any truly brought her pleasure. Each time she had recited her response he had seen Addison reach over and grip her hand tenderly in encouragement. Just a little while longer, you’re doing fantastic, I love you the action said. When Addison didn’t reach over to take her hand and merely smiled and nodded for Reynard to continue the knight knew that he had done well.
“I bring as proof of my adventures the night flowers that grow in that area of our land.” He looked up at her from his place and fought hard against the smile tried to break against his features as he watched her eyebrows rise in surprise. As the queen she did not have to hide her smile. It was soft and small and practiced, but beautiful none the less.
“Approach,” she said calmly and Reynard stood. He strode carefully up the steps to the dais on which the king and queen had their thrones. Once he reached as close as decorum allowed he dropped back to one knee again and offered her a parcel of wrapped velvet. She took it, her fingers brushing against his, and slowly unwound the velvet so that she might see inside. Her face was a combination of sadness and happiness and Reynard ached at the sight of her.
“I think they are a fitting gift for the queen,” he said. She looked up, a little surprised since it was not Reynard’s habit to speak to her when he gave her these birthday gifts.
“Oh?” He nodded and licked his lips, nervous suddenly with his heart pounding in his ears. He was sweating in his fancy clothes. At the edge of his vision he could see Addison watching him as well, curious as to this break in Reynard’s stoic character.
“A young woman once told me that these flowers shine in the light of the moon to keep it from getting jealous of the daylight. The moon thinks they are simply stars and leaves every morning, none the wiser of the beauty that was right under its nose.”
“And this reminds of your queen?” She asked perhaps a bit more playfully than was proper. Reynard knew he should bow his head, avert his eyes, leave what had already been too long a private moment. He did none of those things. He looked at her straight in the eyes and simply said,
“Yes.” They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment that felt stretched out and far too short all at the same time for Reynard. He might not have looked away if he hadn’t caught movement from Addison, seen his king turn his face away from his wife and most honored knight, watched the look of hurt understanding hath in his best friend’s eyes. His stomach sank and quickly he bowed his head to them and retreated. He took his place at the table that had been set aside for people of the king’s inner circle as well as his children.
“Uncle Reynard, that was such a romantic gift!” Princess Grace squealed happily. “Magic flowers!” She sighed and pretended to swoon. Reynard smiled at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder lovingly. She reminded him so much of everything good and wonderful that he had always loved in Addison. She was only six and still viewed the world as a place of joy and beauty. It broke Reynard’s heart to think that she might someday be forced to realize it wasn’t. “Uncle Reynard,” she said with a small, shocked voice, “you’re shaking!” He smiled at her concerned face and kissed her lightly on the top of her golden curls.
“I suppose I’m just getting too old for so much kneeling,” he lied. His eyes sought out the dais again and watched the bored expression of the queen as she continued to accept her gifts. At the same moment Addison looked over and caught Reynard’s stare. The king reached over and grasped his wife’s hand as he had been doing all day. But this time it was not for Bliss’ benefit but for Reynard’s and whatever small part of his heart had remained to him broke apart in that moment. He had crossed a line. He had hurt his king. He tore his gaze away and looked down instead at Grace, the little girl that in a different life might have been his own.
“I think Mama really liked the present,” she was saying to him and Prince Aidan, though the older boy seemed to care little for the event. Perhaps even less than his mother.
“That’s the only thing I care about,” he said to the princess. This time he wasn’t lying.