VII. After Midnight

"'Tis not possible," Seva said softly, sitting down hard when Ardashir revealed what he had seen on Lord Gray's finger. Holland caught the faint wound of betrayal in her eyes along with disbelief, but they were flickers behind the mask. The queen still didn't look recovered from her fear for the penitent as well. "He is more than an ally—he is a friend."

"Lord Gray adores Her Majesty," Cadeyrn confirmed. "And he has far more reason to back her than His Majesty."

"Those creatures seemed more set on reaching the King than the Queen," Vladan rumbled. "Holland said the one she killed was making a beeline for him."

"It's entirely possible that Laenus misled Lord Gray into believing he would help solve the problem of the King's...well, I'm certain I need not draw excessive attention to the elephant in the room," Lieren said calmly. It wasn't as though she was going out of her way to inflict pain on Seva by bringing up the King's infidelity publicly. The elf just didn't particularly care one way or the other about the queen's feelings. "A risky proposition to solve an embarrassing problem. Laenus likely intended to use him to link it back to the queen. The outcry would inevitably end in the civil war he so desires."

"Only one way to find out. Her Majesty needs to talk to Lord Gray." Lord Cadeyrn's voice was certain. "I know Ronan. He has his faults, but he is not a liar."

"Agreed," Ardashir said. It was strange to speak up on behalf of the man his wife had left him for, but for all the disrespect Gray had always shown him, he was still an honest man. Nor did Ronan have the temperament of demon-kith. He wasn't particularly power-hungry. A glory-hound, certainly, but that was the nature of many nobles. "He wouldn't lie to you, Your Majesty."

Seva closed her eyes for a moment, gathering together what was left of her inner strength. She was exhausted and thoroughly unhappy with the situation. "Tomorrow. He will linger for a few days," the queen said. Her shoulders were no longer squared. "I will speak with him tomorrow, and not before."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Cadeyrn said respectfully. He could tell that Seva was ready for some time alone in the library, or perhaps in her own room. "We can reconvene after that is accomplished. Would you permit me to escort you to your quarters?"

Seva shook her head. "I have a matter I wish to consult the books regarding," she said. "I will retire in an hour or two. Thy offer is appreciated, but declined."

"I can stay," Holland said quietly. She didn't want to leave Seva alone with the troubled thoughts she could see stirring behind the cracked mask. The demons would likely be regrouping and trying to deal with their losses and this part of the palace was much easier for the king's men to guard without the crowds of people. An assassination attempt wasn't the penitent's primary concern.

"Get thee to bed," Seva said sharply. "Thou art covered in blood and nowhere near recovered. I do not require a nursemaid."

Everyone in the room was a little bit surprised to hear the snap at Holland. Even Lieren raised an eyebrow. Holland didn't take it to heart. If she had been in Seva's position, she would have been far less kind about expressing her own frustration and displeasure. "Of course, my lady," the penitent said respectfully. "You know where to find me if you change your mind."

The little group filtered out of the library to leave Seva in peace, splitting off to go their separate ways. Holland lingered near the door that had closed behind her for a moment. She knew she needed to take a bath and change before going to bed, but she couldn't extinguish the worry. However, she knew her presence wasn't wanted and that there was little she could do to ease things. She hated not being able to offer whatever meager comfort she could give.

She felt a light touch on her arm. "Well, it would seem you finally felt her teeth. A bit less enticing than you were hoping, I take it?" Lieren said.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Holland couldn't keep the chill out of her tone.

"Well, seeing as my assistance in an assassination of a certain lord has not yet been requested...no, I don't." Lieren's tone was polished and faintly amused. "But I was right: seeing you out of that armor is rather appealing. Though it looks remarkably like you have some frustration to burn off. I would be more than happy to assist."

Holland tensed. "You're enjoying this."

"Not nearly as much as you would enjoy yourself if you indulged me," the elf said in response to the accusation. Her voice was low and soft when she murmured into Holland's ear, "I can give you everything that you desire, if you let me. If nothing else, perhaps the jealousy would provoke her into making a move of her own." It hadn't come as a surprise that Lieren knew about her feelings on Seva, considering what had been said in their first little encounter. Holland still remembered the way her friend's name had slipped right out when the elf asked her what she had to lose.

"No."

Lieren frowned. She wasn't used to such persistent refusal. Every human she'd ever toyed with had given in, though some of them put up something of a resistance. Usually it was for show, because they thought others were watching and cared. Holland's seemed quite genuine, however. It was a puzzle that the elf had yet to solve. "So you will wait without falter for the day that never comes?"

"Yes."

"She didn't wait for you." The elf traced her fingers up to Holland's bicep. She could feel tension in the already iron muscle. The penitent's patience was fading fast. Lieren was tempted to push hard, just to see what would happen when the woman finally cracked. She was not opposed to being Holland's angry mistake. "What a waste of time and energy. She doesn't deserve you."

"I don't care," Holland said, pulling away from the touch. Somehow, she was keeping her head despite the glamor. It was not an easy endeavor, however. "My answer is no. It will always be no."

"I'm beginning to understand why they call you Invicta," Lieren said with amusement. She pressed her lips to Holland's cheek in a goodnight kiss. "Sleep well in your cold, empty bed, Holland. Mine is in the east wing, should you change your mind."

The penitent glared as the elf drifted past her, but she also felt a pang of regret as she headed for her own room. Her whole room was cold and empty. It didn't have to be that way, though. Lieren had made her an offer that she felt increasingly stupid for not accepting. Something, even a poor imitation of love, had to be better than nothing. Instead of changing her mind and seeking the elf out, however, she undressed and wiped the blood away from the mostly closed wound. She could take a bath in the morning when she was finished healing. It still itched and ached. She slipped on a shirt and loose pants in case something happened during the night and she needed to run or fight. Better not to streak through the castle mostly naked. The white fabric of her kirtle was probably irreversibly damaged, not that the cotehardie itself wasn't ruined too. The hole would need significant stitching and the bloodstain would be difficult to get out now that it had dried into the cloth.

When sleep came, it came uneasily. Deus's voice returned to full volume, a sign of what she considered a growing madness. She wished there was something she could do to drown Him out. Perhaps drinking to excess would grant her a small peace, but then she would be useless if another assassin entered the palace or the alarm was raised. Holland found herself drifting in and out of consciousness as she did most nights, moving from nightmare to the relentless worry that was wakefulness. She watched the candle on the bedside table burn lower and lower, eating past each section of wax that marked the passage of an hour.

It was an hour past midnight when she heard a knock on her door. It wasn't Ardashir, Khagra, or Vladan. The sound was too hesitant, too quiet. Holland knew she could have shouted for them to come in, but she rose to her feet instead and padded over to the door. She'd left the fireplace poker near the door in case she needed to club something into submission, but she didn't reach for it. Instead, she unlocked the door and eased it open. She wasn't ready for what was on the other side.

Seva was standing in front of her, looking beyond distraught. Her blue eyes were brimming with tears and her face was a picture of heartbreak. Exhaustion was easily readable to someone who had studied Seva as intensely as the penitent had. But overpowering it was a definite pain. "My lady, you should be in bed," Holland said softly.

The queen shook her head. "I...'tis not possible." She hesitated and took a half step back. "Forgive me, I should not have awoken thee."

Holland reached out and caught her friend's hand, gently drawing her into the room before she could change her mind and flee. "You're always welcome in my room," Holland said gently. "What's wrong?"

Seva seemed to be struggling with herself for a moment, trying to hold back the tears. She was too overwhelmed to keep them in check, however. They started to roll down her cheeks, but Holland brushed them away as swiftly as they came. "Fionn," the queen managed to get out.

Holland seriously regretted her promise to Ardashir. She had ever since she made it, granted, but this looked particularly bad. She slipped her arms around Seva, pulling her into a tight hug. She felt delicate fingers dig into her back as her friend held on for dear life. "Let me take you to bed." Holland wasn't letting her walk down the halls alone in this condition. Seva needed to sleep off whatever this was. She looked like she was so tired she was falling to pieces and Holland knew what a horrible feeling that could be.

The queen shook her head. "They are in my bed."

For a moment, Holland completely understood orcish bloodrage. She knew without having to ask exactly who they were. Fionn had crossed a point of no return. By Yssan tradition, stretching back as far as memory went, that bed was sacrosanct. No one had any right to be in it besides Seva and her husband—him only if she was willing to have him there. It was the one area of the palace that was unquestionably hers. It was beyond an insult for him to take Naris there. Holland was a hair's breadth away from doing something she would not at all regret. The only thing keeping her still was the fact that she couldn't just leave Seva. Not like this. "Then you're staying with me." There was a hint of roughness to her voice from the anger.

Seva nodded into her shoulder. She didn't even seem to notice the way Holland had gone rigid for a second.

Holland started unpinning Seva's hair. She was certain that Seva was tired enough to collapse fully dressed, but she would regret it in the morning if she did. As soon as the queen's soft hair was loose, she set to work on her friend's dress. She'd thought about working Seva out of her clothing many times since she'd met the young woman. Not once had she imagined that it would be like this. She did not have permission to linger on curves or press her lips to bare skin. This was what Seva needed, though. There were a lot of things Holland wanted to say, but this wasn't the time to remind the queen how beautiful and intelligent she was. It wasn't the right time to give any voice to her feelings. It wasn't a good time for words in general.

Once the dress was pooled on the floor, Holland ran her hands across Seva's back to soothe her, the soft fabric of the slip beneath her hands somewhat comforting. "I'm right here," the penitent said softly before guiding Seva towards the bed. The tears hit in full force by the time she had Seva under the covers. It wasn't going to be enough to just sit at the bedside. Holland slipped into bed beside her friend and let Seva move into the circle of her arms.

"Stay, please," Seva whispered as she settled into her place tight against Holland's chest, her head tucked under the penitent's chin.

"I will. You're safe." Holland kept making soothing circles on her back as Seva soaked in the warmth she'd been desperately missing. I love you. I will never hurt you. Now was not the time to say it, but she thought it silently as if it would help. "You can always come to me."

It would be easy to have her now. Do you think she would refuse you, my Ilex?

She clenched her jaw at Deus's suggestion. She was grateful that Seva was completely oblivious to His voice. Maybe He was right, but that changed nothing. Her friend was in no condition to make any kind of decision and certainly not in a place for what that insidious voice was starting to suggest. The penitent would never try to take advantage of the queen's pain. Not even for her own satisfaction. "Is there anything I can do?" Holland asked softly.

You could make her forget about him. Isn't that what you want? To ease her pain? Is it really manipulative if it's to her benefit? You've wanted her for years. This is the opportunity you've been waiting for. Kiss her. Take what's yours.

No, Holland answered viciously. I'm not you.

"Thou art doing it." Seva's voice was soft, as if coming from a great distance. She pulled in a shuddering breath. "What did I d—"

"Nothing. You did nothing wrong." The last thing in the world she wanted was Seva finding fault with herself for Fionn's appalling decisions.

"I married him," Seva said bitterly.

Holland sighed. "What choice did you have?" she asked quietly. "Without you, Yssa would have crumbled with the last king. There would have been civil war and nothing to stand between this kingdom and the Princes of Iron. I know there aren't even words for the pain, but you did your best. That's all we can ever do. This is his fault, not yours."

The queen drew in another shuddering breath. "I tried, Holland. I loved him, and he never stayed."

"I know." The penitent wished she hadn't gone north. It was necessary, yes, but she hadn't been there to help Seva find her feet again after the constant stream of blows knocking her down. She loved Ardashir, Khagra, and Vladan...but she would always feel guilty for leaving her friend to handle Fionn on her own. She pushed the thoughts away just as she was trying to push Deus away, focusing on the circles she was making on Seva's back. She could feel the queen's hands fisted in her shirt. Holland had assumed it would be difficult to be so close to Seva and keep her thoughts in a simple, friendly vein. But with this much hurt radiating off her friend, other thoughts didn't even occur to her. "I'm right here. I'm not going to leave you. I'm never going to hurt you."

Seva nodded slightly. "Thou art a better friend than I deserve."

Holland stroked blonde hair, feeling Seva relax into her body a little bit. The queen's breathing was slowly coming more smoothly as the last of the tears faded. She had to be exhausted. "You deserve the world. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, yourself included. Now close your eyes and get some rest. I'll be right here."

"Stay," Seva said thickly. It was a plea, not an order.

"Of course," Holland murmured reassuringly. "I'll be right here when you wake up." The quiet enveloped them like a comforting blanket. The beat of the penitent's heart and the steady rise and fall of her chest seemed to ease Seva's upset until she could finally fall asleep. Holland was awake long after Seva, both because she wanted to watch over her friend and because the working of her own mind was relentless. She had never wanted to hurt Fionn so badly, but her promise to Ardashir was an iron binding. She couldn't physically lay hands on the man. Fionn breaking Seva's heart wasn't an allowable casus belli according to the deal, however angry it made her. But not once had she ever said to Ardashir that she wouldn't have Lieren wreak havoc on the king's sleeping mind. Enchantment magic had many uses. Maybe the elf was even powerful enough to catch Naris in the same trap.

She'd kiss the elf in a heartbeat if Lieren would do that much for her. Only once, granted, but that was all she owed their resident enchantress. Besides, the elf would probably accept the request gleefully. A chance to inflict suffering for amusement would keep Lieren occupied until something more pressing came up. A long lifespan demanded a constant search for hobbies.

When it came to Seva, though, she felt her heart finally stop wavering. Orobas and Ardashir were right. She had to say something. Maybe it would damage their friendship beyond repair, but she had to hope that something good might come of it no matter how difficult that was to imagine. Maybe it would be as simple as Orobas said, a reminder to Seva that she had someone in the world who wanted to make her happy. This particular wound would have to heal a while before she was ready to breathe life into those words, because she didn't want to hurt Seva more or profit off the queen's pain.

Ilex had never imagined a point in her life where she would be warmth and invitation and comfort. There had been only cold purpose and distance in that life. She'd watched Galeo and Pera from the outside, never really understanding what it meant to be in love. When she came to the east, her name had changed, but the heart beneath had barely altered itself. Now, she couldn't imagine not having this overwhelming feeling with her every day, closer than her own shadow. It was a part of her.

As much as she wished Seva had never known even the slightest twinge of heartbreak, she was grateful that she could be the person that the queen turned to when everything went wrong. Holland took some solace in that fact and closed her eyes, trying to slip back into the realms of sleep herself. The warm body in her arms made it far easier than it had ever been in the past. Deus still whispered at the edges of her consciousness, but her efforts to repel Him seemed somewhat successful. She was untroubled by dreams for the rest of the night.

She woke up as the sun rose over the horizon, a knot forming in her chest when she realized she was alone. The sheets were disturbed, but they always were. Even when she thought she'd slept without nightmares, sometimes she was a fitful dreamer. The bed was cold except for right around her own body. There was no dress on the floor.

Holland wanted to curse and throw something. Of course she'd dreamed it. Being able to touch Seva, to hold her close, was always an illusory privilege. She half expected to hear Deus's laughter, but He was being suspiciously quiet at the moment. The penitent sat up and let her face rest in her hands. She wasn't certain if she should be grateful that Seva wasn't so hurt that she'd turned up at an ungodly hour or if she should be crushed because she hadn't been able to actually comfort the queen. It had felt so real...

There was a thud on the door, Vladan's familiar method of knocking. "Holland!" he called jovially.

The penitent sighed and got out of bed to open the door. "What?"

Even the anthroparion seemed to note something was a little off kilter with her. He hesitated for a split second. "You alright?"

"Fine, you big brute," Holland said, recovering herself completely. "Did something happen?"

"You missed a fine catfight. Hair was pulled, faces were scratched, names were called," Vladan said with a chuckle. "Naris got the worst of it, though Lieren's face has been better."

The urge to cover her eyes with her palm was almost overwhelming. It had honestly been a while coming, considering how long Lieren had incessantly needled at Naris, but it still would be a hassle to deal with. "I would have thought brawling was beneath Lieren's dignity."

"It is. Khagra says that's the best part," Vladan said with a grin. "I separated them. Thought about pounding them together, but Ardashir said not to. He's the death of fun."

"It is generally frowned upon to bloody foreign diplomats excessively," Holland said, stepping back to let Vladan into her room. "What was the cause of the fight?"

He shrugged his powerful shoulders. "Something elfy, probably." He sauntered over to the side table just inside the room and picked something up off the dresser. "Her Majesty will probably want this back when she finishes with Lord Gray." He held it out to her.

It was the tortoise-shell comb that had been in Seva's hair the night before.

Holland sighed. It was half relief and half renewed anger at Fionn. Apparently last night wasn't a trick of the mind. "I'll give it to her," she said as she took it.

"Why was she in here?" Vladan asked curiously. "Did you finally say something?"

"No. Fionn is just..." She searched her mind for a particularly vile epithet, but then remembered that she was talking to Vladan. He could very easily repeat it to Fionn's face. Besides, the last thing the anthroparion needed was an expansion of his vocabulary of fighting words. "...an idiot."

"A cruel, rat-faced bastard, anyway," Vladan rumbled.

Holland half-smiled at that. "I wouldn't say that in his earshot."

"Think I couldn't take him?"

"Never. However, I've been run out of Tamaris once. I don't think I want to repeat the experience," Holland said dryly. "I'll take a bath and get dressed, then go talk to Lieren. Is she with the others?"

Vladan nodded. "In the library. Khagra's looking at the scratches on her face. I think our healer just likes being able to clean them out with spirits. Looks like it stings something fierce."

The penitent shook her head slightly. That sounded about right, considering the relationship between the elf and the orc. Apparently today was going to be a busy one. She let her fingers tighten slightly around the comb as she lost herself in thought for a moment. A week. I'll tell her in a week.