Passive (Volume 2) - ON HOLD

2-Jon

*Jon*

20th Holly Moon, 435 AC

Royal Palace, King's City, Valoria

Jon couldn't remember when Elizabeth became someone to fear. He was fairly sure that, at the start of her reign, she'd been a good ruler–just, understanding, patient–but all that had disappeared as she grew. She had been told, over and over, that her failure to apprehend every last one of Arabella's children meant that her seat on the Valorian throne was precarious, at best. And now, her worst fears were being realized.

Ella and her barbarian husband had nearly reached the Shadow Islands; Grace and her court had taken up residence at Land's End, the girl crowned queen, Turtle Island declared a sovereign state; and, now, Rose had been kidnapped and was being used to figurehead a new rebellion.

Elizabeth was panicking, and Jon couldn't blame her. But that did not excused her accusing his wife of treason.

"Lady queen," he said sharply. "I can assure you that my wife has committed no acts of treason. I live with her, if you have forgotten. Who would know better than I where her allegiances lie?" He paused and looked around the room, making sure to meet each councilor's gaze. "Furthermore, I take it as a personal insult, lady queen, that you might order my wife arrested, especially without proof."

Elizabeth's glare turned mutinous. She crossed her arms. As anyone who knew her would testify, this was not a good sign.

Declan reached across the table and put a placating hand on her arm. She shook him off. "Look," the queen's brother said, running a hand through his curly hair. "Sir Jon has a point. You need his father's support, and Lord Larieux is notoriously touchy. If he learns that his daughter-in-law was nearly arrested on unsubstantiated evidence for treason, he might just decide he needs the several-hundred soldiers he's lent us to guard the borders of his lands or to help with the plowing."

"Or," Idris added. "He will say that he needs you to repay that very large loan immediately."

Jon was surprised. Usually, Idris was not so keen to offer opinions on anything beyond matters of military importance. "It seems to me," Jon said quietly. "That we find ourselves in a bit of a pinch. My father..." He took a deep breath to keep his voice even. "Can be unreasonable, especially when he thinks his family has been slighted."

Elizabeth's gaze was sharp and unforgiven, so Jon pushed forward. "Lady queen, I, at least, understand that you acted out of a sense of duty and the preservation of our government. I know that my wife will be just as understanding. Mary is a forgiving person, and I swore to protect and cherish her when I took her as my wife."

Elizabeth uncrossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. She tapped her fingers against the surface of the desk and studied each of her councilors carefully. First, Declan, at her left, then Jon beside him. Idris opposite Declan, the High Abbot beside him, Lord Dor between the two, and, finally, at the empty seat at the foot of the table where Lord Rolond sat when he was not–as now–on his lands in the far north, and the other vacancy where Archer usually sat, between Declan and Jon.

"It seems, then, that I need only make some sort of concession to Lord Larieux," Elizabeth murmured, her sharp gaze lingering on Jon's face, as if daring him to contradict her. "The rest of you, my lords, what say you?"

There was silence for a long moment, then the High Abbot spoke up. "Lady queen," He said, in his dry, crusty way. "May I remind you that Lady Mary is family, according to any sacred texts, if not by blood, then by marriage?"

Elizabeth uncrossed her legs and tilted her head to one side. "So, you suggest I treat the daughter of an adulteress like, what, a princess?"

The High Abbot shrank in his seat. He seemed even more withered than he had been just a moment ago, and he was always quite withered.