Lady Katherine Harrington of Johanne

30 November, Year 1 of Sebastian VI, Emperor of the Longbournian Nations' reign

Longbourne Military Academy for Women, Amöneburg

The Longbournian Nations

"A very good morning to you!"

At dawn the next day, the dormitory doors flung open. I jolted awake in my bed at once at the noise, and on instinct, reached for the dagger on my bedside table.

Who was it -

When I realised it had only been Corporal Montgomery, I tossed the dagger aside and collapsed against my pillows once more. I closed my eyes, and pulled my blanket over my head in a vain attempt to block out her voice.

Why must she do this every damned morning -

"I would suggest you cease dallying, Mistress Harrington. You need to leave for the Palace right away," her suspiciously chirpy voice cut through my thoughts, "Her Majesty has summoned you."

My blankets were ripped from me. I opened my eyes, shocked.

Corporal Montgomery was looming over the foot of my bed, and her eyes – despite being filled with exhaustion due to her night-long guard duty at the Palace - were now glittering with barely suppressed glee.

I forced myself to rise, and groaned loudly. "What does the Dowager Empress want from me now?" I mumbled, yawning, "'tis too early in the morning to have an argument with her - one that we both know I am bound to win."

At that, her grin only widened, and it was beginning to frighten me. Before she could open her mouth to answer, however, she was interrupted.

"She is not talking about the Dowager Empress, Mistress Harrington."

The Princess walked into the dormitory, dressed in a deep-blue morning gown for a change, as opposed to her army attire. Her eyes were still rimmed red with all the crying from yesterday, and her countenance was pale. She stood beside Corporal Montgomery now, the very portrait of misery.

"I was supposed to tell her," Corporal Montgomery grumbled, annoyed.

"We do not have time for games, Michelle," the Princess sighed, "Mistress Harrington must reach the Palace before the cooks finish preparing breakfast."

I stilled, as dread filled me. "Then I assume it is Queen Eleanor who wants to see me," I confirmed sourly, "what I would like to know, is why the hell – "

"You are not in trouble," the Princess hurried to assure me, "I think." She added as an afterthought.

A wonderful relief that was.

"You think," I repeated, unamused.

"Well, I suspect that the Emperor is to blame for the Queen's interest in you," Corporal Montgomery informed me, snickering, "His Imperial Majesty was talking about you all throughout dinner yesterday."

I tried not to sound too interested. "Oh, what about me?"

There was a knowing glint in the Princess' eyes. "Hmm, he was telling Queen Eleanor about how well you teach your students," she was maddeningly calm, "and the difference you have made in their lives - especially in that of Cadet Hartmann."

"And?"

"And...oh, of course, he informed her of the role you played in finding out who Fräulein was," her face scrunched up, as she tried to remember, "and protecting our students when Prince Heinrich lay siege to the Academy..."

I frowned. "And?"

Corporal Montgomery raised an eyebrow at me. "Why, what else do you think he spoke about you?"

I bit back a sigh. Even I did not know what I wanted to hear.

This was far from normal. It had only been a day since I had last seen the Emperor. One day. I did not know about him, but by God, he was constantly on my mind, in my waking and my sleeping hours.

Ever since we had kissed yesterday morning, I could not stop reliving those few stolen moments. The feel of his lips brushing over my skin, the warmth of his hands gripping my waist, his hard body pressed against my own -

Now was not the time. Queen Eleanor -

"That does not sound like something that one can talk about throughout dinner," I hastily answered before the either of them could become suspicious, "and hardly worth the honour of meeting the Queen."

"Well, Lady Fortune is clearly not on your side," Corporal Montgomery did not sound sympathetic in the least, "now go. You are running late already."

"Right away?" I frowned, "but dawn training - "

"The Queen wants to break her fast with you," the Princess' smile faded, "you are excused from dawn training, and you need to leave now. Let us go, Mistress Harrington."

Today was not going to be a good day.

***

"Your Majesty."

In the dining hall of the Palace, where Queen Eleanor and her entourage had already begun to eat, I stopped exactly five steps away from the head of the table. I spread my skirts, and sunk into a deep curtsy, keeping my head bowed.

There was suddenly pin drop silence in the room, and I could feel everyone's eyes boring into my person. I heard the cracking of joints, as the Queen turned around in her chair to face me.

"You are late," her voice was disapproving.

"I tried to reach here as soon as I possibly could, Your Majesty," I answered quietly, "I had only received your summons half an hour ago."

There was a moment of silence. "You may rise."

I stood up to my full height to gaze down at her. The Queen seemed to have aged significantly in the two months since I had last met her. Her blond hair was now heavily streaked with grey, and slight wrinkles had begun to line her blue eyes.

Her gaze was cool as she regarded me now. "Allez," she gestured to the empty seat next to her, "asseyez vous."

Despite her chilly greeting, I broke into a faint smile at the sound of my mother tongue. It did not occur to me, until then, how much I had missed hearing the dulcet, yet rapid flow of conversation in French all around me, having lived abroad these couple of months.

"Merci, Madame," I sat down, switching to French as well.

While the Palace staff hurried to my side to serve me breakfast - dishes that were native to Monrique, prepared in honour of the Queen's visit, I suspected - she continued to eat her meal in silence.

I was not complaining. Mmm hmm. The aroma of the piping hot apple shortcrust pie and bacon slices on my plate wafted up my nose, heightening my senses at once. Mumbling my gratitude, I began to eat even before the staff left, feeling rather ravenous all of a sudden.

By God, I felt as if I were at home again in Johanne.

"How has your stay been thus far?" the Queen asked me presently, clearing her throat, "I have only been hearing praises about you, even in the short time that I have been here."

I was careful to finish chewing before I answered. "Those praises may be an exaggeration. His Imperial Majesty, especially, is too kind," I noted, "nevertheless, I have had the opportunity to work at the Academy with women from all walks of life who are eager to teach, and to learn, and I have made several friends along the way. Despite the many problems cropping up every now and then, it has been a wonderful two months, Your Majesty. I am very happy here."

She inclined her head at me. "That is good to hear."

I nodded, taking another spoonful of my pie. "How is His Majesty? And Nick and Jules?"

"Everyone is well. Jules is still in confinement, but she is due to deliver very soon," she informed me with a ghost of a smile, before it faded, "and in the meanwhile, Nick and Ned are in Roche, with Lady Therese and her sister Lady Clarisse. If you have not heard already, the poor child succeeded her father last week to become the Duchess of Roche."

My eyes widened in horror. "Succeeded? Does that mean His Grace - "

"He is no more," she sounded genuinely grieved.

By God. I felt my throat clog up a little.

I could not imagine what Tess would be going through at the moment. Although I had grown up alongside her for all my life, what I knew about her was as little as a handful of sand from the shores, as compared to the huge expanse of the ocean that she was.

If there was one thing I did know for certain, however, it was that she simply adored her father. He had showered her with the love that her psychotic mother had been incapable of giving her, and had guided her and raised her to be the woman she was today.

"I am very sorry to hear that," I eventually managed, "he was a good man."

A heavy silence fell between us, as we munched absent-mindedly on our food, lost in our own thoughts.

I decided that I would write to Tess today. The funeral would have long ended by now, but I still wanted to convey my condolences. I had to know how she was coping, if I could help in any way at all. Our letters to each other had been rather infrequent this past month, what with her preparing for her examinations and taking care of her father, and my being busy with finding Fräulein.

God, if I had known earlier -

"The late Duke had spent his last days with both his children," the Queen remarked, her voice quiet, "he was fortunate."

I glanced at her, my forehead creasing.

"The King and I are not growing any younger either. Anything can happen to us at any time," she continued seriously, "of our four children, only the twins are still with us - and one of them is determined to stay away from us for a reason he still refuses to divulge."

I froze in my seat, nonplussed at the direction this conversation had taken. Suddenly, I realised why she had wanted to break her fast with me, and speak to me the very day after her arrival in Amöneburg.

"Your Majesty, with all due respect - " I started now.

"But I am certain you know what it is. Why did you not write to me or the King when you found him in the first place?" she sounded offended, "why did you not convince him to return to Monrique?"

"On the contrary, I have been pestering him all this time to leave, Madame," I corrected her wryly, "you can ask him."

"When that did not work, you could have written to us, like Princess Natalya did," she pointed out, "if not for that dear child, we would have never known where Richard was for the remaining years of our lives."

Princess Natalya did that on an impulse to spare herself the agony of her own broken heart, rather than sparing a thought for your feelings, Your Majesty.

I shook my head. "I did not want to. Despite everything that has happened between us, I...I would never take that choice away from him, Your Majesty," I sighed, "it will be like stabbing him in the back."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought the both of you are no longer friends."

"Old habits die hard, I suppose."

She was growing angry. "But we are his parents. We have a right to know," her eyes were blazing, "you should have informed us - "

"I understand, Your Majesty, but I cannot," I shook my head, "it is not in my place to meddle, and neither do I want to. It is his decision to make."

"'Tis easy for you to say," she snarled at me, "the love of your life is living with you once more, is he not?"

"I am not in love with him - "

"You are a liar," she hissed, "the simple truth is that you did not write to us, because you wished to keep Richard here, right by your side, and away from us. His own family."

I was stunned. "Your Majesty - "

"'Tis nothing new. You have been trying to separate him from us all along, even while you were engaged to him," she scoffed, "you are just like Jackie. You will ruin Richard, just like that accursed woman did with James."

That comparison struck a nerve in me, like it always did whenever it left her lips. The Queen's eldest and deceased son, Black Prince James, had done terrible, terrible things when he had lived - on the encouragement of his sweetheart, an impoverished, common-born woman named Jacqueline De Cruz.

Having been aware of her true nature, the King had forbidden Prince James from marrying her, and he had been right to do so. While the Prince had loved her blindly, that woman had wanted nothing but the power and the wealth that came with the Prince's position, and she had wrecked their family apart with her greed and insanity.

To compare me now to that excuse of a woman -

"I may come from a less than wealthy background, but I do not need or even want your money, Your Majesty," I insisted, "I am well able to support myself and my family from my job as an Archery Mistress. I am nothing like Dame Jacqueline."

"Do you think me stupid to believe your lies?" the Queen growled, "I have seen many others like the both of you - "

"I did nothing to Richard, and I am not trying to separate him from you," I cut her off, losing my patience, "it was his decision to propose marriage to me, his decision to break off the engagement, his decision to leave - "

"You drove him away from us - "

"- and it is his decision to remain here in Amöneburg," I was growing furious as well, "I admit, I do not agree with many of those decisions - I am still downright upset with him, truth be told - but I am also beginning to understand that he may have his own reasons for doing what he did."

"Reasons - "

"He is troubled, Your Majesty!" I clenched my fists, "if he truly needs some time and space from all of us, from Monrique, to reflect and recover, then there is no reason why I would not want that for him. I am angry with him, but I still care enough that - "

I felt a warm hand gently grip my shoulder just then. "Enough, ma douce."

I glanced up, breathing heavily, to find Richard standing next to me. The whole dining hall had long fallen silent, watching our argument unfold with wide eyes and bated breath.

Richard's lips had thinned into an angry line, as he stared hard at the Queen. "I told you to keep Kat out of this, Mama," his voice was low, "I wanted to leave Monrique, come to Amöneburg and stay here for a few months. She did not make me do anything. Why is that so hard to understand?"

Tears began to fill her eyes. "Richard - "

"You make your own assumptions, and then you act upon them without a thought to how it may affect other people, affect me," he was furious, "do you even listen to a word I say, Mama?"

"I do," she desperately tried to assure him, "but - "

"Nay, you do not," he cut her off quietly, "because if you had, you would have respected my decision, and returned to Monrique by now. Hell, if you had listened, even once these past few months, neither of us would be here, so far away from home!"

She flinched at some remembered memory upon hearing his words, jerking back as if he had physically slapped her. Before she could move her lips to answer him, however, Richard had turned to me.

"Kat, have you finished your breakfast?"

I glanced at the devastated Queen, feeling sorry for her. "Richard - "

His stormy grey eyes bore into mine. "Have you finished your breakfast?"

I nodded.

"Good, then let us go."

With that, he pulled me up to my feet, and tugged me out of the dining hall without a second glance at his mother. The Queen's blue eyes, pained, cold and unforgiving, were scorching holes into my back all the way out, even as Richard closed the doors behind us.

Chills ran down my spine. This is far from over.

He then rounded on me. "Have you taken leave of your senses? Why in the world would you agree to meet her?" he threw his hands up in exasperation, "you know the both of you will only end up fighting."

"Well, mayhap you are allowed to refuse when Her Majesty commands your presence," I snapped, "but for poor, greedy, power-hungry people like myself, that is not an option."

He did not say anything. He simply reached for my hand again, and led me to a nearby bay window.

He gently sat me down. "You know none of that is true," he sighed, as he sat across me, "Mama is simply venting her anger and frustration with me, on you. She has none else to blame."

"It is still offensive," I huffed, and leaned against the wall, "by God, I hate it whenever she compares me to Jackie, of all people..."

"I know. I heard most of it," he admitted.

The whole dining hall did, I should think.

He shook his head. "You should not have taken my side in the matter. You should not be defending me at all," he ran a hand through his hair, "I hurt you, Kat. Why would you still argue with my mother for me?"

"I was not trying to. I merely told her what I thought," I replied honestly, "and I truly do feel that you should not be forced to return home if you do not wish to go."

He remained silent.

"I understand that might be hard for you to believe, since I have been constantly yelling at you this past week to get out of my sight," I shrugged, spreading my hands, "but in the end, it is your choice, as it always has been."

He looked away, his grey eyes burning. "I wish it was as simple as that."

I watched him in silence for a few moments, noting his tense shoulders, his clenched fists, the slight quivering of his lower lip, the iron determination in his eyes to remain firmly in control of his emotions.

"No one can make you to do anything you do not want to do," I told him quietly, "and if anyone tries to, then tell me. I have thrown punches for you before, and I will gladly do it again, regardless of the consequences. You know I will."

His lips tried to form a smile, but failed. "I do. You have stood up for me all my life, even after I had learned to do so on my own," a choked chuckle left his throat, "but even then, violence is - "

" - never the correct way to address a problem, Kat," I finished for him, rolling my eyes, "I remember. However, in my opinion at least, violence is the most effective way to get my point across to thick-skulled fools."

I stood up, and walked over to his side. "I do not know what we are anymore, but my offer still stands, Richard," I placed a hand on his shoulder, "if your mother, or anyone else is causing you any problems, you need only say the word."

His grey eyes became glassy. "We are no longer children, ma douce," he whispered, running a hand through his hair, "punching and yelling at everyone else will not solve anything, especially when...especially when I am the problem."

I winced at the amount of pain laden in his voice, feeling it as acutely as if it were my own - as I had for most of our lives. Although so much had changed between us these two months, clearly this had not. 

As such, I knew it was pointless to ask him outright what the matter was. He was a stubborn mule, and he would not tell me, or anyone else, until he himself was ready to.

I gently squeezed his shoulder. "Nevertheless, if there is anything I can help you with, please let me know, all right?"

"Thank you, Kat," he murmured, leaning against my arm, "'tis very nice of you."

"Well, do not become accustomed to it," I muttered gruffly, "remember, I still do not like you."

A ghost of a smile unfolded on his lips. "I remember."

***