Starbird (UNDER MAJOR EDITING)

Chapter 22

Jorgen pov:

She curls into me, her head fitting into the crook of my neck. I feel her eyelashes flutter as she drifts off to sleep, and I whisper to her,

"I love you, Odette." My eyes close, blocking out the pain, and I slowly drift to sleep.

§§§

When I open my eyes, Odette is up and standing by my side, her hands over my stomach again. She closes her eyes, and seems to go to a different world. I feel nothing as the skin seals together, erasing the pain. When Odette opens her eyes, they are a blazing blue, and she looks over at me, my eyes obviously open. She looks shocked, then blushes, then turns away, then turns back, then asks,

"Did you see what I think you saw?"

"If you are speaking of you making my wound sew closed without even touching it, then yes, I saw what you think I saw."

She buries her face in her hands, embarrassed.

"You weren't supposed to see that." I stand from the bed, teetering on unsteady legs. Odette takes my arm and carefully guides me to the balcony. "That," She pauses as she opens the doors. "Is Valena." A green expanse of rolling hills, mountains, and forests is before me, with villages peppered here and there, the sun rising pink over it all. "See those mountains?" Odette asks, her eyes smiling. "Beyond that is even more of Valena. I used to sneak into here, the Queen's suite, when I worked here, and stare out the window on this balcony. The queen before me took me in sometimes, and taught me what lay beyond the mountains. The king's cruelties killed her, withered her caring heart away to dust." I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close. She rests her head on my shoulder, and we watch the sun rise over the horizon. Odette turns to me and says, "Jorgen, what are we going to do? I am Queen here, and you have Berïn to tend to. I can't just leave, but you can't stay. I won't rip you away from your family, even if- wait..." She pauses, and her eyes light up. "Time stops on Earth when you come here, so I would only have to deal with you not being here!" I am concerned, and tell her so.

"I don't like the idea of you being here alone. There could still be people who support Frederic, and they could hurt you, and I wouldn't be here to protect you." She shakes her head, and whispers.

"Don't you think I know how to protect myself?" She lights a small ball of fire in her right hand, and circle small shards of ice around it, just far enough away to not melt. She flings the shards through the open balcony doors and onto the door. They land in just the right places, outlining the shape of a swan. I smile and ruffle her hair,

"Good girl." I stumble over to the piano bench, and she sits at her harp. She runs her fingers over the strings, and gently pulls the melody of an old, old symphony from them. I recognize the tune, and join in. Veri stirs from her little bed, and she wakes up slowly. She pads over to us and sits by Odette. Odette lifts her onto her lap and says,

"Odette, what time is it? What time is breakfast?" She smiles and shakes her head.

"You and food. It's at eight. It's seven thirty." I smile, relieved that we still have a half hour. She murmurs to Veriahn.

"Breakfast in twenty minutes." I hear the water turn on, and briefly entertain the idea of going in with her. She comes out in about ten minutes, shooing me in. At my look of surprise, she blushes and whispers,

"At home they were timed. Now get in!" I go in, undress, and slip under the hot water, though this is much more fancy than the ones at Hezegonja Manor. I spend too long in the bath, and Odette raps on the door. "Jorgen, I know you like the water, but if you don't get out I'll have to drag you!" I laugh lightly at that, and get out. Odette is sitting at the vanity, using her air to pull and twist her long, curly black hair into a circlet of braids. The last braid settles into place, and Odette pins it. She stands from the vanity and tells me, "Well, get dressed! I'll turn around!" She turns around and goes to make the bed, carefully smoothing her own clothes, a sensible white blouse with three-quarter length sleeves that gather at the elbows and a drawstring neckline. She hikes up the light blue pants she wears with them, discarding propriety for functionality. I dress quickly, pulling on a shirt and trousers made of a Valenian material, softer than silk. She rushes out the door, and I realize we have three minutes to spare. She rushes down the hallways, pulling on a shawl as she goes. Her heeled boots clack against the marble floors, and people part upon seeing it's her. We reach the dining room, more of a ballroom at that, and Odette leads me to the chair at the head of the table. She sits down in that, and gestures me to sit at her right. I sit, and the breakfast begins. Over the course of the meal, Odette barely contains her anger more than once when insanely young servants come out to serve us. The youngest was a girl, most likely no older than six or seven. I hold her hand under the table, squeezing it sometimes. She smiles at me, and seems glad when the meal is over. She finishes, wipes her mouth, and stands from her seat. There is no one at the table except a few advisors, whose mouths are pursed the entire time, obviously annoyed that a woman rules Valena now. Odette speaks suddenly, saying, "I hereby ban all children under the age of sixteen from work. They should be provided for or their parents should be working." The advisors grumble, one particularly loudly.

"Women. So soft hearted as to get rid of our best workers!" Odette whirls on him, her hair pulling free from its circlet.

"Advisor Bertonal, I heard every word of that. I may be a woman, but I, sir, am not softhearted! For that infraction and many more, I dismiss you from your post." She glares at the other advisors, hissing, "If either of you put one foot out of line, the same will go for you." They blush, and her anger thankfully stops flowing. She calms down, saying, "You are excused." They walk out, and Odette shakes her head. "Now to deal with the rest of Valena, and planning our wedding."