RE: Monarch-Chapter 252: Fracture LVII

"Glimpses throughout the years can't substitute the full picture. And you've become accustomed to hiding yourself. To some more than others." I mused, trying very hard not to replay the last few minutes in my mind. Instead, I sat up and leaned forward, fishing around in the depths of the water until I found her legs and drew them across mine. In my experience, intimacy was a little like a muscle. It took time for it to become natural. Patience. Too much too fast was a quick path to a terrible experience.

At that moment, her legs pressed against mine beneath the warmth of the water was more than enough. I dug my thumb into the taut corded muscle of her calf and massaged it, feeling the tension give after repeated pressure. "Is this alright?"

In a moment of indecision, it seemed as if she might draw her legs back before she finally nodded, tension going out of her as she leaned back further into the water. "Yes." Her gaze grew hazy, jaw slackening as the growing heat stoked relaxation. "Did you enjoy my... attempt?"

I stifled a laugh. "It was masterful. I was completely enraptured. The only tragedy was that it lacked follow-through and ended too soon." I took the moment to bask in the entirety of her. Who she was. What she meant to me. We'd been through so much in so short a time. "You know there's no reason to rush." I patted her leg.

"Isn't there?" Maya glared at me with a look frigid enough to cut through the heat of the bath.

"Of course." I carried on, quick to redirect her thoughts from where they'd inevitably landed. "You've chosen the object of your affections impeccably well."

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"Listening to a man stroke his own ego truly fuels the fire within me."

I snorted and looked away, no longer able to hold her withering stare. "Nothing so self-consummating. I just mean it in the sense that, while we are certainly in danger daily, you are perhaps the one warrior-wife in the king's service who does not have to worry about whether her beloved is coming home." Maya didn't react to that, and what little I could read of her face above the bubbles looked bothered, so I clarified. "Not saying it's been easy, the path to get here certainly wasn't." I trailed off, smiling to myself. "But... I'll always come back to you. No matter what happens."

The change—the one that let me know that I'd erred, misspoken—was subtle. She'd shifted to angle her legs slightly away from me, and the gentle rhythm of the pulse that bobbed in her neck picked up a little. Her mouth was wide, tight, forming the expression Maya made when she was masking pain.

"I... was trying to be romantic." I added, deflating a little.

"And it is." Maya nodded, her eyes glassy. "It's a genuinely kind sentiment."

"But it made you think about the sanctum?" I guessed.

Apparently that was wrong, as she shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to you."

"It is—" Maya gesticulated vaguely, disturbing the water as she worked through how to communicate something before eventually thinking better of it. "It is not the sort of thing a kind person would voice grievance over."

I pointed towards the vacant space. "It's just the two of us, here, behind closed doors. Even Thaddeus's little spies are kept at bay. I permit you to be momentarily unkind."

"A kind person would evaluate the situation logically. Every time you reset, you die. The heart in your chest stops beating and your vitality slips away. Sometimes you die in painful ways. Horrible ways. And just because the damage is eventually undone doesn't mean everything is fixed. It stays and haunts you. That you're doing so well, regardless of all of that, is more than enough."

"Death is my way of life." I shrugged. "Annoyingly poetic as that sounds."

"You've never chosen to die." She eyed the inscription on my neck. "You'll accept it, when there's no recourse. Even end it yourself if the alternative is a botched present or a damned future. But you've never chosen it, as the human warriors of old did in droughts of conflict."

"We have different definitions of choice, though there's little point in legislating semantics. What I mean to say is that I've routinely chosen a path that brings me closer to it. Prioritized reward over risk. Sometimes to my own detriment. It didn't have to go that way." I thought back to the early days at the cabin. "The first few deaths were... excruciating. The gut-wound. Barion. Kastramoth." I grimaced, and Maya shuddered. "All told, some of the worst sensations and experiences I'd ever endured, dwarfing the middling discomforts of my first life by an order of magnitude."

"You skipped one," she pointed out, face slightly hidden.

"Did not." I studied the bubbles in the water.

"I killed you. Between Barion and Kastramoth, when you tried to set the cabin on fire."

I blinked several times. "Would you believe that's one of my favorite deaths?"

"Shut up." Maya rolled her eyes.

"Genuinely. A single featherlight touch. Brief pain followed by immediate loss of sensation. Docking a few points for the burning of lungs, but other than that, it was instant. And comparatively humane." I flicked water at her and laughed as she returned it two-fold. "Really though, it would have been reasonable, perhaps even expected, for a spoiled noble in my position to come away from those initial experiences pigeon-hearted and terrified at the idea of ever dying again. Somehow, I chose the other path. Willingly putting myself in danger over and over, because choosing the riskier option is almost always ideal, when the consequences are temporary, is a choice." I paused, trying to work through how to communicate what I wanted to say without spoiling the mood. "But I've learned the hard way—possibly the hardest way—that I cannot simply assume I'm acting in accordance with others' wishes. Even if they're people I love. So please. Find it within yourself to be unkind."

"When I was a little girl, there was a red infernal named Zarif, a thin beanpole of an infernal. Mother's assistant. The last one she ever had. Any time she drew up a contract, or any other document, she'd hand it off to me, and I'd go tearing through the scholar's district to deliver it to him."

"Did you love it or hate it?"

"At that point in my life?" Maya laughed. "Loved. Because it also got me out of studying."

"I can't believe that you weren't always a devoted student." I shook my head.

"It took a while, as we didn't really speak the first few times, but eventually, we formed a rapport. I'd ask him annoyingly specific trivia about the law—things I'd undoubtedly just picked up from mother—and try to stump him. Somehow he always got it right. Even when the answer was infuriatingly obscure."

"The reliable sort."

Maya nodded. "It was a territorial dispute, I think, that led to heightened tensions. A human mage uncovered several unbound palantir in a ruin to the south. Well within the bounds of the Enclave, only..."

"That human mage was a member of the Crimson Brand." I finished with an uncomfortable sigh, the rest of the recollection following shortly after. High-ranking members of the Crimson Brand could, by law, claim any artifact or item they discovered that was not currently and explicitly owned as divine domain. It caused no end of grievances, and this was no exception, leading to the tensest period between humankind and the infernals since the period immediately preceding my father's conquest. I cocked my head. "Was he drafted? Your Zarif?"

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Maya shifted uncomfortably. "It was a summons, not a draft, but in this case, effectively the same. Mother refused to hire a replacement while he was gone and held his position for him. Only when he came back..." She hugged herself subconsciously, her attention slipping to the past.

"A lot of soldiers have difficulty assimilating back into civilian life, when their service has ended."

"That's just it." Maya shook her head. "Even if he'd been angry, or injured, or clearly traumatized from whatever it was he'd gone through, I'd have understood."

"But it wasn't that?"

Her jaw worked, then went slack. "He never... told me what happened. But something happened in those six months. I could feel it, every time he scolded me for crawling down from the rooftop, or waved me over, or answered one of my many questions. Like his mind was no longer his, like it'd been taken over by another being who was simply going through the motions. Like he was an entirely different person."

"Yes." I sighed, feeling a familiar rise of guilt. "If this is about the time we spent separated in the Sanctum, I'll do everything in my power to keep that from happening again."

"It... isn't." Maya grew distant, sinking down to her neck in the water, done up hair barely above the surface. "Obviously I'd rather not be plucked apart again, if we can help it. But we are adults with separate areas of influence. It logically follows that there will be times we must attend our responsibilities individually." She seemed to steel herself, staring at me intently. "I'll maintain it's selfish to ask this, considering how hard you've fought on my behalf—on everyone's behalf—but have you ever stopped to imagine how the years since we met have played out from my perspective?"

I opened my mouth, and after giving it a second thought, closed it again. "Chaotic, I imagine."

"To say the least. More close calls than a person should realistically be able to have. Barely surviving one disaster after another, after another. To be fair, despite everything, there's been more good times than bad." Maya said quickly, looking more than a little chagrined. "Meeting you, sharing our lives over the years. I've cherished all of it." She swallowed. "But then there are the days you come to me, confidently proclaiming the solution to a problem I didn't even know we had. And you put on a brave face—you really do—but you're pale and drawn, and the smile isn't doing anything to hide the way you're shaking." She shuddered and put a hand over her mouth. "And I... realize that it's happened again. You've found your way out of death's clutches, but how long did it take? Weeks? Months? Years? Do you even remember what we talked about the last time we spoke, or is yesterday already a distant memory for you?"

"You've seen most of it, been part of most of it." I pointed out, reminding her of our shared memories.

"Hearing that I helped is not the same as physically taking part. It feels... too easy. As if there are constantly important ordeals happening in and around my life that I am simply not present for."

"Is there anything we can do to make that easier for you?" I asked.

"No." Maya huffed. "The one I wish we could make it easier for is you. You love me, yes?"

"As the sun sets in the west and twilight follows in its wake."

"Then—" She trailed off, cheeks reddening as she stumbled over her words. "Must you ambush me so?"

"A poetic ambush is my favorite kind." I shrugged.

Maya cleared her throat pointedly. "Then imagine how you'd feel. If every so often I came to you haggard, red-eyed, looking as if a runaway wagon had trampled me—"

"Elphion, I never look that bad."

"And you come to the same conclusion you always do. Someone hurt me. Maimed me terribly, as I screamed, and fought, and wept. While you blissfully carried on with your day, unbothered and unaware, I overcame something that threatened both of us. And now I'm telling you it's all taken care of. How would you feel?"

"Like shit. More than a little murderous." Subconsciously, my hand tightened into a fist.

"Yes. Quite." Maya laughed, the cheery noise bouncing off walls through the humid air. "Sometimes I fantasize about getting the drop on you, doing whatever is necessary to render you unconscious and pliant—"

"Go on." I prompted.

She rolled her eyes. "—And stealing you away to some faraway continent where no one could ever hurt you again. Beyond even Thoth's clutches."

"Does such a place even exist?"

"Not on a map. But... there are rumors of a shrouded continent, east of Terragor. Almost impossible to reach by sea."

"I wasn't aware there was an east of Terragor beyond dead seas and devouring shoals."

"We could find it." She stared at me, point blank. An observation. The question purely implicit.

Run away together.

Another voice made itself known, a gentle echo across my thoughts. I didn't flinch from it as I once had, or attempt to shove it away. Instead, I acknowledged her presence and bade farewell as she vanished from the stage of my mind's eye.

"I can't leave." I said, the words weighing heavy as I spoke them. Maya absorbed it silently, as if it was to be expected. "But you can."

She started at that, face going impassive almost immediately after.

A lump appeared in my throat, remaining lodged there even as I attempted to swallow it down. "It's just... you're right. That the position you're in is difficult. If I had to choose between suffering every day, or watching someone I love experience that same suffering, that would be no choice at all. You've handled it masterfully, better than anyone could reasonably expect. Thing is, I can't promise any of it will get better." I thought about the upcoming dinner, and Maya's unexpected invitation. "For as long as Thoth is still alive that promise is beyond me. Furthermore, my family is beginning to acknowledge you as more than a mere diplomat. Which is both heartwarming and a little terrifying. But the awareness of the royal family is often a double-edged sword. You didn't ask for any of this. After tonight, and the respite in Kholis—" I winced as her eyes bored into me, quickly carrying on. "It will only be more difficult to extricate yourself. Let me be clear. I don't wish for you to go—"

A gentle hand rested on my throat, stopping me. She'd grown closer as I rambled, expression muted and thoughtful. And perilously, perilously close. "This is not that day beyond the castle walls, when the black shields rended the wavering heart from your chest."

My mouth snapped shut. Slowly, it was like a great weight I wasn't even aware I was carrying slipped away.

"We are bound, Ni'lend. Your fate is my fate. And my heart does not waver." She kissed my forehead.

"I can't marry you." It came out more harshly than intended, and I grabbed her waist as she reflexively tried to pull away.

"We've already addressed the topic of political marriage thoroughly, yet you've chosen to bring it back up at the worst possible moment—" She sputtered.

"But I want to." I finished, and Maya fell silent, looking scattered as I pulled her closer. Maybe even a little frightened. "It can never be official. I learned a long time ago that three people cannot keep a secret. Likewise, commissioning a ring is too much of a risk. But if we kept it quiet—ventured into the Everwood while we are in Kholis, spoke our vows to the gods with the stars as witness..."

"And how would your future lady wife feel upon discovering such a trespass?" Maya asked, unsure.

"Ideally, she would not." I tilted my head to the side. "But if she found out regardless, I'd like to think she wouldn't care."

"Gods—"

"I'm serious." I argued, picturing it, as I had countless times. "There is always a glut of political climbers seeking the power a favorable marriage affords. Doubly so when that marriage has the added benefit of increased stability and favor with a previously hostile power. All I have to do is find a person who holds ideals similar to my own, is both gifted and motivated to lead, unlikely to stab me in the back, and holds no interest in me romantically."

Maya grimaced, bobbing beneath the water without response. When I said nothing further she groaned and turned to the side. "The only reason you're not making the obvious joke is that it undercuts your argument."

"What joke?"

"Cairn."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Her brow narrowed in annoyance, and I had a second to flinch before a perfectly aimed wave crashed across my face. I wiped my mouth and regarded her coolly. "Finding someone who holds no interest in me will be the biggest challenge."

"And there it is."

I let the moment pass and grew serious. "Levity aside, it won't be difficult. You forget the tension that sprung up between us when you learned my true name. The enclave was cautious as well, almost to the point they almost let me die of my injuries. Even if the elves and dwarves welcome us with open arms—which they will almost assuredly not—they will be thinking strategically when it comes time to negotiate an alliance. And there is no better recipe for a passionless marriage than one born of necessity."

"And you'd be happy with that?"

"If it meant we could be together, unhampered by duty or jealousy? Yes. It's not perfect. But I haven't forgotten what happens when I ignore my responsibilities for love, and that is a lesson I presume neither of us would be quick to repeat."

Maya gazed pensively into the water. "It's a relief, to hear you speak about the future so. There have been times I've wondered how much of your impetus to unite the Kingdom came out of necessity."

"You know me better than that."

"I do." Her eyes slid to me. "I felt your desperation, when your kingdom burned and your people were put to the sword. Your enmity. The hatred you felt for her—that you feel for her—was all-encompassing. It wouldn't be unreasonable if, now unexpectedly faced with the possibility of a future where she finds herself in a watery grave, you found pause to reconsider."

"On the contrary," I said, mulling over her words. "I'm not sure anything has changed. From what little I understand, Thoth has lived through this period of history countless times. She is no stranger to conflict, and watching their duel at the end of my first life, the only reasonable explanation is that she's fought my father many, many times. The battle was too one-sided. Even for her."

Maya's brow furrowed, as she recalled it. "If memories were books, this one's spine would be falling off. I always come back to it. The rout was disturbingly decisive. That's the obvious part. What's more impressive is the method. All that power at her fingertips..."

"And she chooses the knives instead."

"Exclusively. Wielding knives and wearing leathers against an armored opponent with a bastard sword." Maya shook her head. "It speaks to a level of confidence that approaches lunacy."

"My guess is, she's simply done it so many times it no longer poses a challenge." I said, letting that hang for a moment. "And if that's true—and Gil is her favored opponent, you really think he never leveraged the navy against her?"

"She'll be ready for it." Maya concluded glumly.

"On that, no one can be certain. It's less of a sure thing than my father believes it to be, but even so, there are a few things working in our favor." I held up a finger. "Prejudice is predictable. The dwarven siege weapons are not the sort of thing King Gil would rely on without cause. His distaste for non-humans runs deep, and even if he has been more open-minded as of late, substituting a dwarven weapon in place of one of our own, in his mind, is tantamount to admitting that the former is better. Which he would almost never do unless there is a significant threat, one which he is taking seriously. At his core the king is a rationalist. He loathes nothing more than defeat, and will do whatever is necessary to avoid it. But his arrogance undercuts his practicality. And from the sound of it, he's been looking into the siege weapons for some time. They're not quick to adapt or implement. So for any of this to transpire, he must take the threat very seriously, very early."

Her face lit up. "The letter you sent with the rangers, chock full of predictions to prove your future-sight was true. It alerted him almost at the very beginning, where Thoth might have spent months or years beyond his awareness otherwise."

I nodded. "It's possible that all of this has come to pass some other way, and Thoth is prepared regardless. But at the very least, it's far less likely. So, I'm cautious. But... as terrifying as this is to say... hopeful."