Chapter Text
It seemed like a miracle they escaped, though Kentarou knew it was really just good planning. Zambojil's troops fell away quicker than he could have dreamed and they didn't see other pursuit all the long, winding route through the sewers and back to the secret camp in the mountains.
The camp was another surprise. It was small and cramped, but the walls were piled with surprisingly sophisticated machinery and they even had a room for producing small arms. The joke of a resistance he had founded had thrived in his absence, growing bigger, stronger, into something that might even be able to change the empire.
He spent hours greeting the rebels - his men - all of them alive with hope and determination. Most of them were young fellows, their eyes shining with the glow of freedom. Kentarou praised their hard work, their incredible strength and endurance, their faith in the cause, and tried to smother the awful, guilty voice inside that told him he was going to get them all killed.
At last Dange shooed them away, ordering them to let La Gour rest after his long ordeal. He led Kentarou to a small room that had obviously been serving as the command centre and showed him to a few cots set up in the corner. "It's not much," he apologized, "but it should give you some privacy. Take this time to rest."
"Mm." Kentarou sat down on the cot with a sigh. He was exhausted. His legs ached from rushing through the sewers, his back hurt from the guard's beatings, and his arms were sore from being tied behind him for so long. He needed the rest.
But every time he closed his eyes, he saw Zambojil's smug face.
"Shout if you need anything. It's not very formal here, and the boys would be happy to help you." Dange chuckled. "Well, I'll leave you, then. We have a lot to discuss in the morning."
"Wait."
Dange paused by the door. "I still have a few questions," Kentarou said, trying to push away the weariness.
"Boazanian politics haven't changed that much," Dange said gently. "They can wait until morning."
"Not that." Kentarou shook his head. It was stupid and hopeless, but - "Rosalia..."
He knew the answer as soon as Dange's expression changed. It was the tight, grim look of the bearer of bad news. "I'm sorry. It wasn't long after you...after you left that she-"
"I know." She's dead, you fool! "They...I heard it, in the mines." The stinging pain of the whip, still easier to bear than the pain in his heart. He'd forgotten it on Earth, he'd let himself forget, but it all came back to him now.
She's dead, you fool!
Dange was still talking, but La Gour didn't hear. He had believed her gone enough to remarry on Earth and he'd never regret loving Mitsuyo, but a small, foolish part of him had clung to the idea that maybe, maybe it wasn't true. He had been trouble, after all. Maybe the guard had been lying, trying to break his spirit. Maybe it was all one of Zambojil's plots. He'd never seen her body, never gotten to say goodbye. Rosalia could have still been out there, somewhere, living a quiet life in the Boazanian countryside....
It was a dull, familiar ache, letting that last ember of hope die.
"Well, I don't have anything particularly against her...imprisonment should suffice."
Damn Zambojil! La Gour's short nails dug into his palm with small, immediate sparks of pain. Those promises were worthless, but still-! Rosalia had been innocent and even then, even then she had been forced to pay for Zambojil's ambition! He imagined her led to the post, a blindfold covering her lovely eyes, standing proud and tall before the firing squad...
"-no one knows what happened to the child. I'm sorry."
"What?" La Gour blinked as he came out of the past. "Child?"
"Your and Rosalia's child," Dange repeated patiently. "She died giving birth to a baby boy. Afterwards the child disappeared and we don't know what happened to him."
Something had to be wrong with his ears. Dange was explaining how the men kept their eyes and ears open, even though they didn't have many reliable sources of information and there were far more pressing concerns, but his voice seemed to be coming from far away. Rosalia's child? His child? He'd thought of the possibility many, many times, in the mines and on Earth, about what could have happened without Zambojil, but not...not that it could have been real. Thinking about Rosalia's fate had been bad enough.
"I wish I could congratulate you on the birth of your son. Again, I'm very sorry."
"Kenichi's going to be upset he's not the oldest anymore," La Gour said into the air.
"Pardon?"
"My eldest - second eldest - son. We even named him...it means 'strong first,' in one of the languages of Earth," Kentarou explained automatically. He laughed - more of a hitch in his breathing - at the look on Dange's face. "I have three - back on Earth. I remarried."
"Well. Now you have four."
Kentarou nodded, still reeling. Daijirou would probably be happy to have another brother to play with. Hiyoshi...he couldn't imagine what Hiyoshi would grow up to be like.
He couldn't imagine what Rosalia's child would - had - grown up to be like. The boy would be horned, at least, and it made La Gour sick he was happy about that while so many hornless children suffered. Unless whatever had gone wrong with La Gour had gone wrong again...unless Zambojil knew about the child and had invoked the ancient right to destroy a traitor's family- His stomach lurched. "Does Zambojil know?" he asked in a strange, distant panic.
Dange's face was grave. "I don't know. He'd be a fool to do anything if the boy is horned, since we know he still doesn't have a son of his own, but..."
He couldn't hate La Gour that much, not enough to destroy the empire over it. The Boazanian Empire had stood for millenia, but killing the only possible heir would set up a succession crisis enough to bring it down. Zambojil couldn't be that petty and spiteful.
La Gour wished he could believe that.
"Do you know what happened to Éleon and Alise?" he asked, still holding out hope.
"Rosalia's parents?" Dange's mouth twisted. "We're not sure what happened to Alise. Shortly after your first rebellion-" La Gour winced at the memory "-Duke Éleon left the capitol for Langfeude, where he's been commanding the local military training facilities and cheering Zambojil to anyone who'll listen." Dange was too polite to call La Gour's father-in-law a filthy coward, but it bled through his tone.
"Langfeude, huh..." There was a small lakehouse used for vacations not far from there, where La Gour and Rosalia had spent many happy hours before it all went wrong. It was near a little town that only existed for the summer crowds, nestled deep in a green mountain valley. In other words, the perfect place to hide.
He vaguely recalled that Dange and Éleon had hated each other when they were both in the military. More immediate was the knowledge that Éleon had doted on his daughter, and he was the kind of man to carry grudges to the grave. If he had become one of Zambojil's men...either he had gone completely insane, or he was protecting something very, very precious from the emperor's gaze.
La Gour wanted to go. He wanted to rush north to Langfeude and corner Éleon until the man told him everything. He wanted to see the little house on the shores of the lake, and eat fruit from the orchard Rosalia had planted. He wanted to see his son. He wanted to learn so much - the boy's name, his looks, his personality - and he wanted to teach so many things in return. The lack of difference between horned and hornless. Zambojil's cruelty. His family on Earth. The little trail up the mountains Rosalia had found and loved. Her kindness. He wanted it all so much he couldn't breathe.
"Do you know the place?" Dange sounded curious and eager. La Gour was lucky to have such devoted men, despite his long absence.
And so he shook his head with a smile he didn't feel. "I do, but...don't worry about it. We can't afford distractions right now." It hurt to say. It hurt almost as badly as leaving Earth, and just like then, it had to be done. He'd left Mitsuyo and the boys in the snow and even now there was no guarantee he'd ever see them again. This was just a continuation of the same sacrifice. "I hate it, but right now the safest place for all of my children is far away from me."
Dange nodded solemnly. "I understand. If that's your wish, we will all follow it."
"Thank you." Kentarou settled back against the wall. "And thank you for telling me about Rosalia. I think I can rest now."
Dange bought the polite lie without flicking an eyelash, because there were some niceties too ingrained to cut off with your horns. He bowed and left Kentarou alone to stare at the rough wall, new knowledge heavy on his heart.
A new son. A new eldest son. He'd lost track of time in the mines and on Earth, but the boy had to be a few years older than Kenichi. By now he was probably hitting the awkward stage of adolescence, all too-long limbs and headaches from rapidly growing horns. La Gour remembered his friends knocking their horns on low doorways or getting them tangled in branches and being terrified the same would happen to him. At least his son would only have to worry about neck strain from all the weight.
He couldn't even picture what the boy would look like. A boy Rosalia? Kenichi with horns? If they'd let Daijirou keep his horns, would he look more or less like his brother? Did the boy have his mother's artistic flair, or his father's interest in science? What did he enjoy: hiking, reading, sports, parties, solitude? Living with Éleon, he'd probably end up getting shipped off to military academy eventually...La Gour shuddered at the thought. Surely his parents-in-law weren't foolish enough to give his son up to Zambojil like that. They might be proper nobles of the old school, but they had raised Rosalia well enough. They could do the same for their grandson, couldn't they?
Looking at it from all angles, it was a faint, slim hope. But La Gour had bet his life on worse.
The thought crossed his mind that he should stay Kentarou for now. Right now only Zambojil knew the truth, and as sickeningly nerve-wracking as that was, it wasn't really any worse of a situation than it had been a few days ago. But there was no need to let the word spread around that the dangerous rebel almost-emperor was back, not when that would make every ambitious underling start poking into his past for an edge. Besides, after ten years he was used to being Professor Gou Kentarou.
He laid down and stretched, trying to work enough of the soreness out of his body so that he could sleep. The rebellion needed a calm and rested leader, not a red-eyed zombie who spent the night worrying about something he couldn't change. But even as he settled down, all he could do was stare at the wall.
When all this was over and Boazan at last had a free and equal society...if he was alive to see that day, he'd find his and Rosalia's child.
And when that day came... Kentarou closed his eyes, picturing the lake in his mind. He'd run down the path and fling open the door, tear through the house until he found his son and could drag him into an embrace...sit down and explain everything that had happened, everything he wanted the boy to know about his family, and then...
Slowly, the daydreams slipped into sleep.