Long Suffer the King

XVII

A/N: It's been a while since I've updated! Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint :)

They walk back to their horses together, Joan still maintaining a motherly grip on her body. Ophelia doesn't protest, she enjoys the gesture.

Viktor stands outside his small place and hobbles over. "Ophelia, darling, I never meant to overwhelm you." he says.

"Thank you for telling me." she whispers, getting onto her horse and not making eye contact. Viktor sighs and steps away from the horse. Joan kisses his hand before getting on her own horse.

"I want to talk more about my mother." Ophelia says when they start to turn the horses around to head back to camp. Viktor nods, smiling. "Anything for you, my niece. Come back whenever."

"I shall." she lightly kicks her horse and follows after Joan.

When they make it back, Joan offers Ophelia to head to her tent and make tea and talk. Ophelia refuses, unable to find much to say, and retired for the night. She lies in bed and mulls over what she has just learned.

Her own father, who spoke so passionately about his wife, killed her. She tosses onto her side and stares at the blank tent. What if Viktor had never said anything. We could've been living happily.

But then she would have never met Joan or Klaus. She would've died from being cooped up in the castle. Her mother....

Ophelia shuts her eyes and squeezes them as hard as she can to stop the tears. She could have had a mother to teach her how to be a real lady and how to be proper and civil. She could have someone to talk about when she fell in love or when she was having trouble making friends. A mother was supposed to be the mentor every girl needed. Her father took that away.

Ophelia tosses onto her back. But maybe she was just dreaming of a perfect mother.

There's a voice outside her tent calling her name. Ophelia sits up and listens.

"Ophelia," it's Klaus. She calls out for him to come in and wraps the blanket around her body. He sits on the edge of the cot. "Did you know?" Ophelia asks hesitantly, busying herself with a frayed edge on the blanket. "Know that your mother..?" he doesn't want to finish his sentence.

"Yes, Viktor-my uncle- he told me. My father is a murderer." she whispers, bringing the blanket in closer. Klaus leans over and smiles. "If he is then he has paid the price for being one, understand? This is and always will be something you can't control. You can't control the past. You can't control people."

"That seems contradictory since I'm to be queen." Ophelia mumbles, sniffling. He sits back. "Being queen isn't about controlling the people it's about allowing them the freedom to follow you."

She raises an eyebrow but sighs. "Whatever you say, mountain man."

He gets up. "Your mother's death will be worth it. And.." he stops and holds up a finger, "I mean it won't have been for nothing. She's smiling down on you from the heavens."

He walks out. Ophelia watches his shadow fade and drops her blanket to get up and blow out the candle. "Or she's looking up on me in disgust."

The next morning is more tense than usual. Joan manages to avoid Ophelia by making her rounds around camp to check up on the people. Ophelia is entirely left alone for the whole day. She doesn't mind it, the seclusion gives her time to think.

"You know," Jorn says as he sits across from her in the pavilion, "if I didn't know any better I'd say you've got a lot on your mind right now." he gives her a smile.