damsel in distress

Chapter 22: Written in the Stars

“And then the king and the queen had two beautiful sons and lived happily ever after,” said the priest, closing the book.

“So, did he defeat the evil king of the North or not?” Asked the prince Frederick, with his blue eyes wide and cheeks flushed. The little boy of five was quite rotund, with chubby arms and a pink nose.

“The king of the North wasn't evil.” Isabella called from behind them, walking into the brightly lit study. The queen had a toddler on her hip who played with her long, unbraided hair. He would try to put it in his mouth and she would gently chastise him. “He had simply forgotten what kindness meant, and once the king and queen reminded him of it, he went on to rule his lands justly and happily.”

“Your grace.” The priest stood up and bowed. “I just finished the prince's lessons for the night. Allow me to bid you farewell.”

“Please allow us the chance to dine with you sometime, High Priest Stein,” Isabella said. “Be gentle, Tahir,” she turned to her second son, masking the pain of her hair being pulled into a gentle laughter.

“Oh no.” The priest bowed his head. “I am afraid I should decline. The books in my library feel rather lonely without me.”

And Isabella smiled and watched her sons’ tutor go, leaving her with the squabbling boys. They were full of life, especially Frederick, who was beginning to take on his father. It was quite apparent that he preferred swords to books, and spent entire mornings following his father and the kingsguard knights and learning to pick up swords twice his size. Tayash might have looked reckless, allowing his son around sharp blades and weapons that could cut flesh in just a touch. But Isabella knew her husband better. No one loved their sons more than him, not even her. She laid her children to sleep, and while Tahir was quite happy to substitute his mother's hair as a chew toy with Baroness Viola's hair, Frederick was more reluctant to let Isabella go.

She had to pat his head in order for him to fall asleep, and the moon was high up in the night sky when she returned to her chambers.

“You're quite late.” Tayash leaned by the fireplace, his shirt undone and a glass of wine in his carefree hands. “Frederick kept you up again?”

“And why aren't you asleep yet? Was court tiring today?” She took the wine glass from his hands and set it aside, before pressing a chaste kiss on his temple. “Do I have to sing you to sleep?”

“The answer to both those questions is no.” Tayash pulled her to his chest and buried his nose in her hair. “If you sing me to me, you would steal my sleep away for weeks.”

“Do you mean I am a bad singer?” Isabella looked up at her husband's warm blue eyes.

“Quite horrible, dare I be honest. Please never sing to me.” And he kissed her jaw.

“Enough now,” she chuckled, pushing him away. “Tahir is able to make sentences now. Just this morning he asked me for water. Mama,” she said in a childish voice, “water. He asked for water. Do you think I should ask the High Priest for his lessons too?”

“My darling, Priest Morganstein is a history tutor, not a babysitter.”

“That is correct,” she pouted. “But Tahir seems much more interested in books. Just last night, when I was in the apothecary, he was quite intently flipping pages of the huge encyclopaedias about snake venoms.”

“He is a child, my love. Children like anything that catches their eye. My sister used to tear and eat pages from books when she was Tahir’s age.” Tayash chuckled gently and pulled her into the balcony. To love a man meant to attend a hundred funerals of the men he used to be. Tayash’s eyes no longer sparkled with arrogant mischief or proud sarcasm. He was a gentle ruler now, a serious listener and a man of wisdom. But Isabella knew how to rile him up in excitement.

“If you can't sleep, maybe we could duel.” She pressed a finger on the corner of Tayash’s lips and drew a line down to the centre of his bare chest. “I'll tire you just enough so that you can fall asleep.”

Tayash cocked his eyebrow. In a flash, he turned her around and pressed her back to his chest, holding one arm around his neck and the other one snaking around her waist. “You’ll tire me?” He whispered in her ear. Isabella laughed out loud. “You’ll tire me out, eh?

“I might!” Isabella pulled his arm over her shoulder and put a hand on his chest, attempting to fling him over herself but Tayash's brute strength trapped her against the bannister itself. She could never win against her husband. He turned her around and put his hands on the railing beside her waist and leaned in to kiss her. Her hands found their way into his hair.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“And I love you more,” he said, kissing her nose.

Night air felt gentle around Isabella. She looked at the pond down below in the keep, in the middle of the rose gardens and then to her husband's eyes, full of devotion. Their subjects were blissful and content, and the realm never heard of any dispute, big or small, for as long as they reigned.

All was good, and all were happy.

fin.