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A gentle breeze carried Edgar’s mantle as he walked the gardens of the Duvards’ Heartlands estate. They'd used this property regularly when he was still a boy; when his parents and would-be in-laws met to discuss matters between their lands, and to determine which of their children to marry off. He remembered his siblings and the Valarien children playing amongst these flowers, and tried to picture himself running in-between the rows of lionheads at knee-height.

“Brings back memories, doesn't it?” he said, finally. He turned to Sopshi, whose arm was linked around his. “When I was first told we were to marry, I thought I’d gift you with a bundle of flowers from the garden. I got a swift reprimanding from the caretakers when they'd seen their handiwork ruined. How was little me supposed to know they weren't for picking?” 

	Sophsi laughed, “I had no idea either.” With a flourish she lifted a lone lionhead with her free hand and twirled it under her nose.

	“Smells pretty though,” she mentioned slightly absentmindedly.

	“I can think of something prettier,” Edgar pondered aloud. He smiled as he watched Sophsi breathe the plant’s aroma, whose petals matched her locks of gold. 

	“How did your visit with your father go? I suspect his duties have kept him busy, especially with the passing of Emperor Taramyth.”

	“He is understandably devastated. It ached my heart,” Sophsi let the flower glide to the grassy floor.

	She turned to her husband, letting a hint of depression break from tired eyes, “he is also wondering about hiers.” 

	Edgar let out a sigh. “I figured he’d ask about that again. Does he know? About our… complication?”

	Sophsi scrunched her face defensively, “I don’t think it is anyone’s business.”

	“No, I suppose not,” Edgar answered with a shrug, “but he [i]is[/i] your father. As your own blood, I think it might be his right.” The prince’s eyes drifted unconsciously to Sophsi’s abdomen. They’d given it their best, but fate already claimed one of their would-be children. The decision to put their effort on hold was mutual. 

	
	“I’d understand if the news disappointed him. But he’s spent his whole life anticipating a grandchild. Don’t you think it would be harsh to keep him waiting for one who’ll never come?”

	“It could come,” Sophsi folded her arms across her chest, almost as if fighting a chill, “we could at some point -- you know --  bring an heir.”

	Edgar eyed his wife with a worried face. “Sophsi… If it happened again… do you think you could face that for a second time? I know we can’t predict the future, but we’ve already tried so hard.”

	“I don’t think I can face it for a second time,” Sophsi admitted, letting her arms slip to her sides, “there has to be another way, to you know, make sure.”

	“I’ll see if any of the magi academies can help. If anyone could, it’d probably be them.” Edgar put a reassuring hand around Sophsi’s shoulder. “If you’re serious about giving it another try, I’m right beside you.”

	“Just please be discreet,” Sophsi squeezed Edgar’s hand, “please.”

“Of course,” Edgar promised. The two of them stood there for several moments, Sophsi’s chin tucked over Edgar’s shoulder. The garden was so calm, and seeing the bees go about their work gave Edgar and odd sense of reassurance. If all of Ethica was like this, maybe everyone would forget about the warring and the politicking. 

The peace was broken by a “My liege! My liege!” Edgar spun to see a courtier jogging near, waving a hand. “Lord Edgar! Terrible news from Ignis.”

“What is it?” Edgar asked, face suddenly pale. 

“It’s Valoderro; the hamlet’s been wiped off the map by an army of vilespawn. It’s on the move east, toward the Xandrian border. If it’s kept loose, more villages will be in jeopardy.” Edgar swore. The vilespawn of Ignis had been largely dormant until now. A fine time to awake too, on the coming of the election. 

“Any word from my father? Guillame? Have troops been mobilized yet?”

“One can assume the king is doing what he can for his people. He’s given you instructions to stay here and oversee the situation in Lalrial. He and Guillame will deal with the vilespawn.”

“Dammit, I should be there instead of Guillame,” Edgar muttered. “That is all?”

“That’s it, my liege. Worry not, Guillame’s become a strong lad. Lord Roman will take care of him.” The man gave Edgar a bow, then turned and left the couple to the garden.

It was Sophsi’s turn to comfort her spouse as she patted his shoulders, letting her own worries fade in her mind ever so slightly. Mustering herself she offered words of comfort, “the fine men of Ignis won’t let this continue, you know that as well as I.”

Edgar linked his hands around Sophi’s waist, giving her a solemn smile. “I know they won’t. Father trusted us with out duties in Lalrial. I can only do the same for Guillame.”


“I suppose we should go do our duties then,” Sophsi remarked, her lips hinting at a smile.


[@Arsto] (posted)