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Princess Susanne might lament the fact that neither of her sons chose to live in Fabre Manor, but she surely couldn't be surprised. For many noble families, it would have been taken as a matter of course, even after the sons of the house came of age, for them to share such a large and luxurious manor with their parents. A residence in Baticul's Regal Square, next to the castle, wasn't something to be tossed aside.
Or, it shouldn't have been. But Luke had spent seven straight years literally trapped in the manor. If that wasn't enough, Tear Grants' work with the Order still took her all over Auldrant, and Luke was more than happy to let his own work as an ambassador overlap hers. As for Asch, he envied Luke his freedom of movement, but he'd made the choice to spend the past year headquartered in Baticul, wanting to see if he could really do it. If, after years of trying to forget it, after years of longing for it, he could be happy living in the position he'd been born into.
But that didn't mean he was living at home. He made a point to visit his mother often, true. And things had improved between him and his lord father. But he had no desire to live under the duke's eye. He might be working closely with his father, he might end up at Fabre Manor several days out of the week, but he retreated every night to an apartment in the Upper City. It was an unlisted address, though not unknown to the Dark Wings – and a few friends. It felt good, having a place he could call his own, something he paid for himself, something that had nothing to do with his father or Van.
For the most part, he'd only left Baticul over the past year to see to Velian, the march that traditionally belonged to the heir of House Fabre. Legally, there'd been some wrangling over which of them was entitled to it, him or Luke. Luke wasn't at all interested, not even in the income, and was more than happy to defer the rights to Asch. He had his own lands as the second born, and, aside from visiting them every half year to personally deal with important decisions, he left them in the care of his steward without any guilt.
But Asch had been cutting his teeth on Velian. He relied on a steward too, but he'd made half a dozen personal trips over the past year, looking the march over himself, resolving legal disputes when possible, taking his income and putting it back towards the march's good. He didn't want to make any kind of big deal about it. He mostly wanted to see that he could do it. That he was valuable for things other than heading the special operations unit of the Order of Lorelei. Or destroying the Score. His years in the military had swallowed up the years he should have spent studying advanced economics and political science. His evenings were spent with borrowed books, even the secret hiring of a personal tutor.
He didn't hate the work. The hours could be long, and the people could be aggravating, but he'd been dealing with long hours and aggravating people since he was thirteen. And Velian was making more money, at least over the past year. He wanted to be optimistic, even if he was still too cautious to really congratulate himself.
But if there was one day of the year when Susanne could count on both of her sons to be home, it was Lorelei-Decan 48. Their birthday. Technically, Luke's birthday, the day of his creation, was Shadow-Redecan 31. But last year, when the issue first arose, Asch had cut Luke off from saying anything – anything like It can just be your birthday or I can get used to a new birthday – and snapped that nobody had to change anything.
“You sure?” Luke asked, raising his eyebrows.
“What does it even matter what day it is?” Asch shot back. “I don't care.”
Maybe he cared. If he cared, the point was, he didn't want anyone to make a wrangle out of it.
Now, a year later, as their twenty-second birthday approached, he was grateful Luke's birthday had been folded into his own. He didn't want to be in the manor alone, celebrating with his family. Not all for his own sake. Not because he wanted Luke to be there, exactly, but it divided the pressure and made things a bit easier to bear.
He'd hoped this birthday would be better than last year's. At their coming of age, only Luke had made himself known to the world, Asch needing more time to collect himself before he came home. At their twenty-first birthday, Asch had only recently revealed he too was still alive, and everything about the birthday had been much too emotional to be pleasant. Now – maybe this birthday could just be a normal one. Whatever a normal birthday even was at this point.
He woke at five in the morning, something that hadn't changed from his days in the Order. Birthday notes had already arrived through his mail slot. Many of them were from people he didn't know but who wanted to be connected to him – politicians, business owners, nobles with eligible daughters. There was a handmade card from Daath signed Anise and Florian, and Asch tried not to be touched that Luke's friends were making an effort to include him. It would be stupid to be emotional.
There was also a brief note from Guy, nothing very warm, mostly updates about his new estate in Malkuth. Asch still tried not to let himself be touched – not to let himself hope that he and Guy might someday really be friends. There was nothing from Jade, which was just as well.
There was a perfumed note and a small package from Natalia. Asch saved them for last. The note was brief – she was in Baticul, and he'd undoubtedly see her today – just wishing him a happy day, with all my love, Your Natalia. He picked up the gift, curious. As well as he knew Natalia, he couldn't predict what she'd get him.
The box held a small black velvet pouch. He shook it over his palm, and down dropped a slender bar of gleaming black hematite. Two dagger-like onyxes glittered at either end. A hairpin.
Asch couldn't help smiling, and he didn't even scold himself for it. Vain as he was of his hair, Natalia's enthusiasm for it was far more gratifying. But as he turned the pin over, admiring its simple, striking craftsmanship, he couldn't help being confused. Jewelry was an intimate gift. Good manners dictated that only spouses or fiancés could exchange something so valuable, something to be worn. He didn't mind that Natalia had overlooked etiquette, it was just a little surprising. He rubbed his thumb over one of the onyxes, admiring its sparkle, then slipped the pin back into its pouch.
He found himself fielding birthday wishes all day, from Urushi when they met up in the Coliseum's restaurant – from the restaurateur himself when he realized the Marquis of Velian was sitting at the corner table, eating chicken salad – from a baroness he only slightly knew, who shoved her daughter forward to also wish him many happy returns of the day, Your Lordship. Asch rolled his eyes at Urushi, thanked the restaurateur, and got away from Lady Miranda as fast as politeness allowed. To his chagrin, he found himself looking forward to tonight's dinner, when at least he'd be shut up in the manor and no more strangers could come sweeping into his orbit.
He was actually smiling that evening as he got dressed. He still favored his dark colors, and the onyx hairpin, pulling his hair into a smooth fall at the back of his head, suited him well. The bouquet of lilies he'd ordered for his mother arrived at quarter past seven, and as Asch gathered them up, he smiled again – but dearly hoped no one he knew caught him walking through town carrying flowers and made any kind of big deal about it.
“Happy Birthday, my lord,” said the royal guard as he stepped out of the lift to Regal Square.
“Thank you.”
“Happy Birthday, my lord,” said the White Knights at the manor's front gate.
“Thank you.”
“Happy Birthday, my lord,” said Ramdas as he stepped into the manor, while on either side of the front door a row of maids curtsied.
Asch had been one of the highest ranking members of Daath's military. He was used to salutes, bows, shows of respect. But no Oracle Knight, not one, had ever wished him a happy birthday, and he did his best not to be awkward as he thanked Ramdas and gave the maids a general nod.
“Her Highness,” Ramdas said, speaking of his mother, “is still dressing for dinner, but Lord Luke and Colonel Grants are in the drawing room.”
Natalia wasn't even here yet. Well, hopefully Mother wouldn't take long. Asch walked through, finding Luke and Tear sitting on one of the couches by the unlit fireplace, laughing over something. Asch hadn't seen Luke in several months, and while his hair was still a shaggy shoulder-length, he'd clearly made an effort to dress up tonight, looking sleek in his blue jacket. Asch hesitated in the door, gauging his own reaction. There'd been a time when seeing his replica, seeing his body animated by a completely different person, had been disorienting – physically nauseating. He knew it hit Luke the same. It still happened, though less and less.
Looking at Luke that night, Asch felt – well – he looked like a different person from himself. Very well.
Still could do better with the hair though.
“Hey, Asch,” Luke said as he came in, though he didn't bother getting up.
Tear looked over her shoulder, her long brown braid twitching. She didn't smile, but she no longer shot him that cautious frown every time she saw him. Her expression was neutral, and that was more than acceptable. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“You brought flowers for Natalia?” Luke raised his eyebrows. “Isn't that a bit much?”
“Idiot, they're for Mother.”
“It's not her birthday.”
“Exactly.”
Luke's gaze drifted to Tear, then back to him. “Sorry, what?”
Asch came too close to walking over and swatting him with the lilies. “It's not too much to thank Mother for bringing me into the world, is it?”
“Asch is right,” Tear admitted. “It's always a nice gesture, on one's birthday.”
“Oh damn.” Luke sat up. “Should I have brought flowers? But then, Mother didn't give birth to me – but – that's no excuse, is it?”
“No,” Asch said, putting some relish into it.
“Crap, I have no idea where the nearest flower shop is.” He stood, glancing at the inner door that led deeper into the manor. “Wonder how long it'll take for Mother to dress – ? I suppose I could... pick some of the flowers in the garden... that belong to Mother...”
Asch took pity. “Go to the castle gardens. There're some nice dahlias over on the west side.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Luke gave him a sidelong smirk as he passed. “I know you know the castle gardens pretty well by now.”
Asch snapped the lilies towards him, without making contact.
“How are you?” Asch asked Tear when they were alone, seating himself on the opposite couch. He and Tear didn't have any sort of close relationship. Rather, they had no exclusive relationship, no affinity that existed only between them, as Luke had with each of them. Even so, Tear had come up in the Order at the same time as Asch. They'd worked in the same environment, they knew a lot of the same people, and Asch, though he had no desire to rejoin the Order, was still interested in it. And while Tear wasn't ever warm to Asch, he could only count that as a point in her favor. Anise Tatlin's way of forcing closeness, whether through barbed gushiness or outright criticism, was far more annoying.
The past four years, ever since the Score War, had been hectic for Tear. Not only was she trying to help reform the Order, but fanatics kept clustering around her, wanting to reverence her as the “New Yulia”. Her explanation of just the past month alone engrossed both of them as they waited for Susanne to emerge and Luke to return.
“I felt a bit bad, cutting things short with Grand Maestro Tritheim,” she said. “But I didn't want to miss the birthday. Especially when – ” she hesitated, her cheeks reddening “ – Her Highness herself invited me.”
Tear hadn't been invited last year; presumably, the duke and his wife the princess hadn't thought of it, or perhaps the duke had felt Tear didn't rate an invite. For Tear, this had to be progress, albeit daunting progress. Before Asch could think of anything to say to that, the inner door swung open to admit the duke himself. Crimson fon Fabre hesitated in the door – rather, Asch supposed, as he himself had done – getting the lay of the land before he stepped in.
“Happy Birthday, Asch.”
Asch gave a short nod, wondering if he wanted to say “Thanks” – too informal? – or if thanking him at all was still giving his father too much.
“Good evening, Colonel.” The duke nodded to Tear to resume her seat.
Asch felt like an idiot, but no words came into his head as he sat there with his father. Tear, for all of her military training, drew herself in slightly, making herself a bit smaller. Crimson sat, tapping his knee, and then finally asked Tear her impressions of Dorian General Lachlan, the Oracle's new commandant. Asch began to breathe a bit more easily, even contributed a few words. He and his father still only made glancing eye contact.
The outer door swung open, bringing a welcome break to the constrained conversation. Everyone rose as Ingobert strode in, followed by Natalia. Asch did well, thanking his uncle for his well-wishes and answering his question that Luke was out “on a quick errand”. But most of his attention was on Natalia, who was smiling with pure surging energy, wearing a simple gown of gold silk that brought out the amber glints in her eyes and hair. Ingobert immediately started talking to Crimson, relieving the younger adults of any conversational obligation. Asch tried not to let an idiotic smile settle in as Natalia came over to stand by him. They weren't fooling anyone. Both the royal and ducal households were well aware of their relationship. But without a royally ratified engagement, and in the company of their parents, it wasn't seemly even to hold hands. They stole glances at each other and Asch felt his smile starting to grow absolutely stupid. He did his best to overcome it.
Maybe he overcompensated because when Luke finally came back in, bearing an armful of nodding dahlias, he threw Asch an incredulous grimace. “What's going on?” he asked under his breath. “You about to murder someone?”
Asch sighed through his nose.
Ingobert and Crimson were at the far end of the drawing room. Luke gravitated back to Tear, who admiringly touched the flowers' purple-flecked petals. Asch felt a soft movement at his side and, turning, found Natalia right there.
“I'm sorry I wasn't able to see you before now,” she murmured.
“Busy?”
“Terribly.”
“Did you select a proposal for the replica safe house in Sheridan?”
“Perhaps. Lang and Alves won't build it for anything below two hundred grand. But if I could offer them building materials at a discount, I think they'd settle for one-seventy. What about your sandstone quarry in east Velian?”
They haggled over that for a few minutes, Asch pointing out that she really should come north and see the quarry for herself, which she didn't catch the first time, talking about how full her Rem-Decan schedule was. When he repeated it, sidestepping just a hair's breadth nearer, her lashes fluttered and one bare shoulder dropped just a touch, allowing him even closer – an invitation that, at least right now, she knew he couldn't accept.
“Of course,” he added, flattening his tone, “Mother or someone would have to accompany you, I suppose. Or I couldn't be there myself. Or if I was, I'd never see you.”
“Oh – well – ” Natalia started to say something, then blushed. “...We shall see.”
Noblewomen more than other women, and princesses more than noblewomen, had to be extremely careful guarding their reputations. A mere rumor of a liaison, never mind an unsanctioned pregnancy, could have ruinous political repercussions. Therefore even with their shared history, their unofficial childhood engagement, their collaboration in saving the damn world, Asch and Natalia weren't allowed to move around freely together. They couldn't take trips alone, couldn't visit each others' suites alone, and it was generally considered prudent not to meet alone too often even in Regal Square. Asch resented anything that divided him from Natalia, especially after he'd regained so much. At the same time, he understood her situation and was above tempting her to stray.
But he wasn't above innuendo. He lifted a brow. He was smiling again, and there was no point fighting it. “'We shall see'? What does that mean?”
“Don't tease me.”
“How is it teasing when I'm just asking a question?”
“You're still doing it.”
“Enough. We'll both be very proper.” He stepped away from her and looked over at their fathers, still fathoms deep in their discussion. “Thanks for the gift, by the way. You have good taste.”
There was a small intake of breath and she swept towards him, skirt skimming his leg, eyes shining. “Oh!” Somehow she kept it to a whisper. “Oh – Asch! You liked it?”
She was radiantly beautiful, but also – very confusing. “Of course I liked it.”
She stepped closer to him, heedless of the company. “Oh, but there's no 'of course' about it.” Her eyes were glimmering. Teary. “You really liked it?”
“Really,” he said, pleased but also weirded out. Then he tilted his head so she could see better. “See?”
“What?”
“The hairpin.”
“The hairpin – oh! – the hairpin.”
“...Yes?”
Natalia was staring at him, radiance gone. “Oh,” she whispered, “I can't believe it! My secretary sent over the wrong one!”
“Wait, what?”
“You got the wrong gift!”
“You didn't mean to give me this?”
“Oh, I did, but later, and – and – well – never mind. I'm so happy you like it.” She threw a glance over her shoulder towards the king and the duke, then gave him a quick silent kiss before taking several steps away and pretending to admire the unlit fireplace.
Certain there was a subtext here he'd missed, Asch was about to risk closing in for a real explanation when finally the inner door opened and Susanne entered, beaming at her two sons. With just one more look at Natalia, Asch gathered up his lilies and joined Luke in pressing flowers on their mother. She thanked them, somehow holding both bouquets, reaching over to cup Asch's cheek, then Luke's. And asking whether their birthday had been going well for both of them.
Soon enough, everyone was gathered around the dinner table, listening to Luke talk about his upcoming ambassadorial trip to Malkuth (coinciding with Tear's work there). Both Ingobert and Crimson were very eager for Luke to see what he could learn about Malkuth's efforts to combat their diminishing fonic artes, particularly the military, and before the talk could become too political, Susanne suggested they all take in a popular play sometime this week. Natalia was enthusiastic. Tear looked uninterested until Susanne invited her, and, blushing and hesitant, she agreed. Seeing Natalia's eagerness, Asch allowed himself to be talked into it. Ingobert and Crimson waved the whole thing off, to no one's surprise, and Luke said maybe, if he felt like it.
Natalia gave Asch a melting smile across the table, glowing and soft in the candlelight. There was something rather poised about her though, a bit like a cat waiting to spring. He lifted his eyebrows. She grinned and looked away, fiddling with her fork. Embarrassed.
Dinner was a lengthy affair, the manor pulling out all its stops to honor the sons of the house. After the plates were cleared and before the dessert was announced, Crimson and Susanne revealed their gifts – in Luke's case, a year of meals to one of the replica houses in his name, in Asch's, a new bridge to be built in south Velian. Susanne, perhaps feeling that however appreciated these were, they were still too impersonal, added a warm winter coat for each son, Luke's in jewel green, Asch's in burgundy.
That accomplished, Susanne summoned the dessert. It was an enormous full moon of a cake with a dark chocolate and red velvet checkerboard filling, a strawberry center, swirls of powdered sugar, and a hot spiced sauce. Though the other diners were served coffee, Asch and Luke were given the traditional birthday drink. For children, milk with cinnamon sugar, or perhaps eggnog. For adults, highly spiced milk punch. Asch and Luke both hated it, but the tradition was to honor their mother's sacrifice and drink to her continued health, so there was no graceful way out of it. They were both still nursing their drinks after everyone got up and retreated to the drawing room.
The older adults went through first, and simultaneously Natalia and Tear stopped the birthday boys, nipped up their glasses and tossed the punches back. They handed the glasses to the discreet Ramdas and then continued through.
“Happy Birthday,” Tear said, almost, it seemed, in spite of herself.
Milk punches were generally held to be soothing, restorative drinks, but as they sat in the drawing room, Natalia looked distinctly jumpy, now sitting with her father, now leaving to cozy up with Susanne, now sitting hip to hip with Tear and talking in low voices. She only briefly sat next to Asch, and then seemed to be having trouble looking at him steadily.
“Are you okay?” he whispered. “Is it the punch?”
She threw him a long-suffering glare. Preferable to her being anxious, at least.
Later, the four of them went out into the courtyard. Quite soon, Luke drifted away with Tear – his common-born soldier love, with whom he could be alone, with whom he could travel, but for whom he'd probably have to fight his father for the right to marry, if they chose to. As for Asch and Natalia, they had about five seconds alone in the shadows, during which Natalia turned to him and drew in her breath to say something – and then the lights of the courtyard flickered to full brightness and both of them could see the four White Knights stationed at the points of the compass.
Natalia sighed, her shoulders dropping. Asch touched her elbow, low, where it would be less likely to be noticed. “I can come to you later, if you want,” he murmured.
To his surprise, Natalia didn't immediately assent. She was frowning, looking thoughtfully across Susanne's flower beds. Her hands were laced together.
“What's got you so worked up?”
“I...” She flashed him a pained smile. “I hate being scared!”
“Why the hell are you scared?”
“You'll know soon enough.”
“Will I?”
“Yes.” More firmly. “Yes. Meet me in the Violet Garden later. Wait for me.”
He drew just a touch closer to her. “All night, if I have to.”
She smiled, enjoying both the melodrama and the sincerity of his remark, and they looked into each others' eyes for a long indulgent moment. Then Natalia stepped back towards the drawing room. “I'm going to make my good nights.”
Asch glanced over in the direction of the Violet Garden. “Soon.”
“Sooner than that!” She ran inside, the light flickering across her golden skirt. Asch didn't follow her in, tipping his head back and looking at the star-cluttered sky.
It hadn't been a great birthday. Still, more bearable than all the emotion of last year's, or the guilty solitude of the year before.
When he came in, Ingobert had also taken his leave. Crimson was probably in his study, but Susanne was stretched out on one of the couches with a second slice of cake. She'd put her two vases of flowers where she could see them.
“Someone's enjoying herself.”
“I hope it's been a happy birthday.”
“Yes.” Good enough to be considered happy, and certainly for his mother.
“Luke's still out. He probably won't be back until tomorrow.” Unlike Asch, Luke lived at the manor when he was in Baticul, but his hours were irregular. “I suppose you're about to run off pretty soon too?”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Are you really asking, or are you just being a good son?”
She'd been teasing, but Asch hated being called a good son when, for so long, he simply hadn't been. He recoiled inside and only hoped he didn't show it outwardly.
Perhaps something showed. Whether or not it did, Susanne quickly followed up her own question. “Well – I'd love to hear some music, if you wouldn't mind? Just a bit before I wander off to bed.”
When Asch had been little, he'd often played the piano, even made up songs, for his mother. Even up to his kidnapping, Asch was still playing for her. And then, for her, there had been years of silence. Luke was also musical – could the isofons of Lorelei really avoid it? – but completely untrained and uninterested.
After Asch had come back a year ago, things had been painfully awkward with his family. One of the first things that had begun to ease that was Asch playing the piano for Susanne.
They went into the library with its piano and Asch played for about a half hour, improvising on his mother's favorites. Afterwards, Susanne kissed his cheek and went to bed. Asch sat at the bench for a few moments, thoughtfully rolling the keys with his left hand. Then he stood and covered the keyboard, walking to the front of the manor.
“A very good night to you, my lord,” Ramdas said in the foyer, giving him a bow.
“Thank you.”
“My lord – if I may – ?”
Asch stopped.
Ramdas' face was very neutral, very deferential. “I thought it might be of interest to know that I brought His Grace's nightcap into his study just now – and he had laid aside his work and was listening to the music.”
Again, Asch had that revolting feeling of having no idea what to say and no idea how to break out of it. He stared at Ramdas like a lump.
Unperturbed, Ramdas bowed again. “Again, good night, my lord.”
He'd given Asch something to say. Another birthday present. “Good night, Ramdas.”
Asch returned to his apartment long enough to drop off his gifts, the jacket, the check from Ingobert, the certificate for a custom sword belt, all but thrown at him by Luke. (Asch, still not equal to shopping for Luke, had donated to his replica house. Luke had covered up any feelings of gratitude by threatening to install a plaque commemorating it.) In a few minutes, he was out the door again, and in a few minutes more, he was passing quietly through the shadows of the castle grounds, stealing past the guards, following secret trails he'd discovered ten, twelve years ago. For the first time all day, his heart raced, hurrying him on to the secluded Violet Garden.
Everything was quiet, except for the singing of the crickets, and he waited until he saw the flash of Natalia's hair before he stepped into view. She threw herself right into his arms, knocking her nose against his before they found each others' lips. Her heels made her a bit taller, but he used that to lift her, giving her a little spin.
She laughed delightedly. “Asch!”
She started to speak but he kissed her again until she sank in his arms, her feet touching the violets. “Asch,” she whispered when they parted.
Asch didn't answer, speechless again, though for different reasons. He still wasn't comfortable articulating many of the blazing, suffusing emotions he felt for Natalia. And it wasn't like he could just kiss her whenever he felt at a loss of words, not without being totally ridiculous. Instead, he pulled together words from a more manageable part of his brain. “You look lovely.”
“You're quite dashing yourself. Particularly with that pin – ” She ran her hand through the ends of his hair – then paused – then took a deep breath.
“Just what is it about the pin?”
“I was going to give it to you now. Here, in the garden.”
“Did I spoil some surprise?”
She gave him a bright, but tense, look and stepped out of his arms, though she kept hold of his hands, the silk of her long gloves soft against his fingers. There was enough moonlight and lamplight that he could see her features clearly, see the moment where she braced herself and looked at him with anxious seriousness. “Asch.”
He braced too. Tried not to become defensive. “All right.”
“I wish to – I wish to formally – ” She faltered, apparently searching for some verb. “I wish to formally reintroduce – revisit – our – that is – ” She dropped his hands, huffing and wheeling away. “Hold on a minute.”
“Just spit it out.”
“No. This is important, I can't just spit it out like it doesn't matter!”
“Then pretend I'm the king's council. Talk to me like I'm refusing to increase the taxes on the nobility.”
She turned back to him, skirt sweeping, chin lifting. “I'm afraid even that wouldn't suffice. Not for what I mean to say. But I'll do what I can. Asch, I love you with all of my heart.”
Words caught in his throat. He'd known, but – to hear her say it – now, here, in all sincerity – hit him more than he ever thought it would. “Natalia, I – I too. I love you too. I have – for a long time.”
“If you say any more, I won't be able to go on.”
“Okay.” Damn, he was such an idiot.
“I love you,” she repeated, and it seemed to come more easily. “No one is more dear to me than you. And – and as the crown princess of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear – ”
He knew. “Natalia – " He took a half step towards her.
“Please, let me say this.” She said it in a rush, then measured her words. “Please, let me say this the way that I want to.”
He held himself back. His cheeks, his neck suddenly felt cold.
“As the crown princess of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear, as the heir to our kingdom, I ask you – ” she hesitated, then brought her hands to her heart, like two folded silk wings “ – to help me protect our people. To share in my burden, and my honor, of rulership. To – to help me raise good princes and princesses for our kingdom's future, and – to bind the two of us together forever. Please – will you be my consort?”
She fell silent, looking at him, her features tense, tears in her eyes. Asch extended his hand.
She placed hers against his palm, and he sank into a kneel, bringing her hand to his lips.
Then, gently, he turned her hand over, took a light hold of her fingers, and slid the glove off in a sudden whisper. Then he dropped his head and kissed her palm.
“Asch – ”
There was no way he could speak just yet, so he rose and put his arms around her, and they held each other very tightly. Eventually, Asch turned his head and kissed her hair, and then she drew back so that their lips could meet. Eventually, Asch whispered, “Yes – of course – you idiot – why were you scared?” He felt a bit scared.
“I never thought about this as children, but there's so much you'll have to give up. You'll have to stay in Baticul, you'll have all the demands of royal life – you'll always have to be in my shadow.”
“Shut up.” He kissed her, then pressed his forehead to hers, smiling into her eyes. “You'll be amazed the kind of stuff I can do in your shadow.”
She giggled. “I'm not sure how to interpret that...”
“Yes.” He kissed her again. “I will be your consort. Don't be an idiot.”
A minute or two passed in this way, them kissing and whispering their happiness with increasing confidence.
“Natalia,” Asch said, and she lifted her face from where she'd nestled into his hair, “has Uncle – Uncle's really allowed this?”
Even though she was an adult, Natalia couldn't marry without royal permission. Though he'd smiled over their childhood promise, Ingobert had never actually ratified any engagement between them. Asch had, after all, been Scored to die since his birth. And even without that, a crown princess and the king's nephew were too valuable of commodities to be claimed without careful consideration. House Lanvaldear and House Fabre were already closely allied through his own parents' marriage. A second alliance wasn't needed, and their marriage contracts could be put to much better advantage elsewhere.
And there were other considerations.
Asch's position in Baticul was better than it had been four years ago, but he still had many political enemies, in Kimlasca, in Malkuth, certainly in Daath. Some members of the king's council would never forgive him for leading a civilian insurrection, then storming the throne room to rescue Natalia from her execution. Some of them must suspect, or perhaps had confirmed, that he was quietly building an intelligence network around himself, similar to the network he'd used as commander of special operations. Even though he had Ingobert's support, they knew Asch was dangerous, and placing him at Natalia's side would give him more influence than any of them wanted.
“No,” Natalia admitted.
“He's refused it?”
“No. I haven't broached it to him yet. I wanted to ask you because of my love, not because I had the crown's permission.”
“But what if he says no?” Before she could say something foolish – “You wouldn't dare give up your right to the throne – ”
“It's very romantic when someone does that,” Natalia said. “But no – I wouldn't abandon the people. If Father says no, then – ” she pulled him closer “ – it may take years, but someday I will be queen. And I would be willing to wait...”
Neither of them could know how long that might be. At twenty two, Asch felt himself unequal to truly understanding it. At the same time, he couldn't stand any alternative – leaving Natalia – asking Natalia to renounce her title.
He kissed her again.
With that settled, a weight fell over them – but a comforting weight, like a blanket. Their heartbeats slowed, and they sat on the low stone bench in the Violet Garden, and Natalia snuggled against his shoulder, her hands, one silk and one bare, anchoring his.
“So,” she said, “I suppose I should give you your other gift now. The one I wanted to send over this morning.”
“You didn't have to buy me two,” he said as she freed one hand to reach into her pocket.
“I didn't.” She handed him a small box.
He looked questioningly into her eyes, then down at the box. Then unwrapped it, lifting its paper lid.
“Oh – Natalia.”
“I – I hope you like it.”
He looked into her face again, the question – Why? – on his lips.
Natalia was many things, not all of them ideal. But she wasn't stupid. She knew she couldn't cook, and so she never did. Almost never did. It rankled her that she couldn't cook, and there were times she wanted to prepare something special, and so sometimes, she tried. With great concentration and effort and all of her heart, she tried.
Asch looked from her eyes, back down to the heart-shaped chocolate in his hand.
“I worked very hard on this,” she said. “I checked, and I rechecked the recipe. I paid careful attention.”
“I know you did,” he said. He still didn't bring the chocolate any closer to his mouth.
Asch had seen the way Luke and Anise, and even Tear and Guy, all refused Natalia's cooking. If he was being rational – if he was looking at it logically – he could ignore his indignation on her behalf and understand why. Natalia had never, in all his experience, made anything that was actually pleasant to eat.
Asch still ate it. When Natalia cooked, he always ate it. Sometimes he was sick for the rest of the day. Sometimes he was sick into the next day too. She'd made him chocolates before, once. Just for him, and the sweetness of the gesture had touched Asch right to his heart. Unfortunately, the sweetness had ended with the gesture, and those chocolates had laid Asch out for three whole days, which he'd had to use all of his ingenuity to hide from Natalia.
Nonetheless, after that incident, he'd told Natalia that her chocolates weren't great – those had been his exact words, not great – but even so she could still make him food whenever she wanted. Because he knew she wanted to learn more and he was always happy to eat her cooking. And he was. He really was. It just wasn't ever the food itself that made him happy.
So that Why? still hovered. Why on his birthday of all days?
“I know it might not be very good,” Natalia said, looking earnestly into his face. “That's why I wanted to deliver it to your apartment. So if it wasn't good you... wouldn't have to act like it was, and then I could make it up to you tonight with the proposal and the hairpin.”
Asch didn't ask the Why? He smiled at Natalia. “Don't be ridiculous. I'm delighted to eat your chocolate.”
He was possibly going to die before he ever got to marry her, but she was so hopeful, and she looked so beautiful as he reached into the box, and her eyes lit up as he pulled the chocolate out. He turned it over, getting a feel for it – to see if it oozed anything black, or maybe if the leg of a prawn sprang out of it – resisted the impulse to give it an investigative sniff – and popped it into his mouth.
He smiled as he chewed.
“Asch – how is it?”
He pointed at his full mouth and kept chewing.
“Oh dear...”
He put both arms around her and kept chewing.
“Oh dear, it's that bad? I tried so hard to make the nougat come out sweet and fluffy.”
He nodded and chewed.
“You don't have to swallow it.”
He chewed.
“Truly, I don't want you to suffer...”
He swallowed. Waited a moment, but his throat didn't close, and the chocolate didn't come back up. He took a deep breath.
“That was very kind of you,” Natalia said, drooping a little against him.
“It actually – ” Asch took a moment to work some nougat out of his side-teeth with his tongue “ – it wasn't – tasty – ”
Natalia sighed.
“ – but it didn't hurt.”
She looked over at him again, her eyes widening. “Really?”
“It was completely edible.”
“It was edible? Really?”
“Yes.”
“You're not just saying that?”
“No.”
“Was it – very edible?”
Asch cleared his throat. “It could've been more edible – but it's still the best thing you've ever made. Thank you.”
They sat for a long time, leaning their heads against each others'. Wondering what Ingobert might say when Natalia approached him tomorrow. Deciding that Asch would accompany her. Wondering what he might say to make his own case. As he felt Natalia breathe next to him, Asch reflected on four years ago. After his kidnapping and long separation from her, after their rediscovering each other, after he'd realized he was going to be dead by his eighteenth birthday, Asch had thought a lot about their childhood promise.
She stirred next to him. “Asch? Are you listening?”
“Sorry, no – I was thinking.”
“About what?”
“Four years ago. I knew I was never going to marry you.”
He'd been dying. Even if he hadn't fallen in battle, there would have been no way of saving him. The fact that he'd miraculously returned, amazing as it was, still didn't entirely heal the wounds of that year. For either of them, Asch realized as Natalia pressed closer to him.
“I thought a lot about who you might marry, after all the fighting was over.”
“Luke?”
“Luke was the one who was going to have everything. The name, the title, the family. A life after all of this.” Asch was surprised how easily the words came just then. Heavy, but his chest hadn't tightened, and he didn't feel the anxiety to get up and leave. “All of my memories.”
Natalia's words came slowly, thoughtfully. “I knew by the time we fought Van at the Absorption Gate that there was no way I could marry Luke. And of course he's never wanted me at all...”
“That didn't make things better. I was just mad that he could be with you and didn't even want to. While I...”
“It would've been easier for you if Luke and I had been in love?”
“Yes,” Asch said after a little thought. “At least I would have felt that your dream was still coming true, in a way.”
“I'm glad it didn't. Not with Luke.”
“It became clear Luke would never be smart enough to marry you. But then I wondered – Guy.”
Natalia lifted her head, raising her eyebrows.
Asch chose his words carefully, wanting to be honest, but not wanting to spill every last insecurity. “He was always with you, and you get along, and – I know he understands you.”
Natalia's mouth quirked. “But he can't touch me.”
“He still had better odds than I did.”
“Guy is handsome and charming,” Natalia said. “And a count certainly isn't too base for a prince consort. But I think if we could have fallen in love, we would've fallen in love over the year when we were constantly together.”
“Except that you were dist – ” He cut his words off.
“Except that I was distracted by you?”
“I don't want to – sound conceited – forget it.”
He knew he was starting to sound angry. At some point ages ago – and it had been both mortifying and an abject relief to him – Natalia had realized that much of the time, his anger was only a flimsy shield for embarrassment. Now she kissed his cheek. Which was embarrassing but also soothing.
“Even without Tear, I don't think Luke and I would've married. And even without you, I don't think that after seven years Guy and I would suddenly fall in love. And none of it even matters, you idiot, because here we are.”
“Well – yes. But I also thought of you – you know – marrying some other person. Someone who had learned to really love you, not just glare and run away.”
Natalia grew less complacent then, dropping her lashes over her eyes as she considered that. “I don't know,” she said eventually. “I can't know, I suppose, not for sure, but – maybe if you hadn't come back – maybe I wouldn't have wanted to marry at all.”
“Don't be absurd – ”
“You don't know what it was like.” She linked her fingers back with his, but she didn't smile. “I mourned you for three years. I'd never been in that kind of darkness before. Even when Luke first came to the manor, when we thought he was you, and I thought you'd forgotten all about me... I was a child, so I was so much more optimistic then. It was hard, but I thought I could fix it. This – your death – I knew I couldn't fix.” She looked up, all the way up to the stars glittering above them. “After you died, everyone gave me time to grieve, but I knew the issue would eventually arise. Whom to marry. And I... I didn't want it to ever happen.”
She looked at him then.
“I felt that I'd be much happier being alone, as long as I didn't have to force myself to be close to someone I didn't love.”
“I wouldn't want you to – ”
“I know. It wouldn't have been for you. But... all my life, you've been the only one I've thought of loving. I suppose I might have learned to love someone else eventually. But if that didn't happen, I think I'd rather be alone.” She sat up, giving him a smirk. “Perhaps I should levy that explicitly to Father? If I can't marry you, then there will be no other marriage?”
Asch smiled, though he was still somewhat thrown by Natalia's admission.
“But it doesn't matter,” she repeated. “Even if Father says no and it takes forty more years, we will be married. I promise it.”
It wasn't the first time, but he felt inadequate, unsure what to do with the passion and the trust and the hope he somehow inspired in her. “You... have faith in me? As someone to help you rule?”
“I have faith in more than just that. I – ”
Natalia gave a little jump. There was a high-pitched sound at some distance – somewhere in the Upper City. They both turned just as a bright blue firework bloomed across the night. Another high-pitched whistle and a white burst joined it.
“What's that for?” Asch asked as more fireworks boomed and glittered. “It's not any kind of holiday.”
“I think it's being put on by the Bridge Masons. In honor of – ” she hesitated just slightly “ – Luke.”
“Ah.”
Asch hadn't wanted fireworks. He would've hated such a display for his sake. At the same time, he couldn't help the sinking in his heart. This was his birthday, Luke's assumed birthday – and for most people, only Luke was thought of.
You didn't come back to be famous, he told himself, watching the chaotic play of light. Or even loved.
Natalia slid her arm around his waist, sending a shiver up through his body, then leaned her head against his. They sat watching the fireworks, neither of them speaking. Perhaps Natalia's words could have eased Asch's mood, but it was her arm around him, her breast pressed against his chest, her cheek nestled in his hair, that put things into perspective. Here he was remembered, desired. Preferred. With Natalia, it made a difference, a lifetime of differences, that he was here.
“And just think,” Natalia said, “if Father does agree tomorrow, and he does ratify the betrothal... we won't have to have a chaperone always hovering around us when I visit you in Velian.”
“...When we look over my sandstone quarry and haggle over building prices.”
She giggled, nuzzling her face into his. “Yes. Oh, I can hardly wait.”