The sun was setting outside the city, casting a bloody shroud over Monarch’s Hold. Thoughts of the next few hours chased each other around in Xandrea’s head as she stared out the window of her royal quarters. The only sound was a distant rushing of waves against the rocky southern shore.  

The King’s return shattered her meditation. She noticed a difference in his attitude immediately. Something had struck deep inside of him, casting an additional storm cloud over his usual weary demeanor. Even his sloppy kiss and aggressive advances had a touch of melancholy to them.

“I dreamt of Penny again,” he told her.

Xandrea was cleaning herself off and getting dressed while King Rowan lay on his back, his flabby outline on the silk sheets of their four-poster bed.

“Last night, I saw her at supper, right there next me, in the dream. She wouldn’t speak to me though... All I wanted was to hear her voice again.”

Xandrea wanted to tell the king now, but he kept on about the old queen, as was his wont after a disappointing bout at lovemaking.

“I remember the last thing she ever said to me. There was blood everywhere, but the midwives had just cleaned off Colton and Garrett. I told her their names, after my father and her great-grandfather. Penny looked at Colton, then she looked at Garett… Then, at me…”

Xandrea had heard this tale before, and it broke her heart because it was the only thing that made the king abandon his stoic demeanor. As he continued, however, she realized something was different today. A revelation had reached maturity in Rowan’s heart and was clawing its way out.

“My love for them is too strong,” he said to himself, lamenting the selective and puzzling frailty of memory. “That feeling… That crushing realization that she’s not there anymore, that she is somewhere else without you. It’s just as strong right now as it was then. But her voice… Why can’t I just remember her voice?”

Xandrea sat down next to Rowan and put her hand on his bare shoulder.

“Rowan, I have the most wonderful news to tell you.”

He jerked his shoulder away from her and rolled out of the bed. “I must ready myself to again face the court at this miserable feast.”

King Rowan thus began the wobbly process of dressing himself in royal garb. She noticed him already drinking from a flask he picked up off their bedside table.

After he took a swig of the sour potion, the king put his undergarments back on and continued slurring his words from a combination of emotion and intoxication.

“Those two weren’t worth it by a margin, but I still love them. I can see her in their eyes. She’s there, or at least a part of her. But the other one, I wish we had had a princess. The Turtle Prince, that’s what they call him now. My line has become an embarrassment, Monarch’s Hold is in destitution, and I’ve no idea how to be a good king, let alone a good father. Not that any of that matters anymore.”

“I have sent a marriage proposal to Arienne Webber, on behalf of our son Ethan…”

The king had just finished buttoning up his purple vest when he turned back to face Xandrea. “What did you say?”

“Ethan is to be wed to Arienne Webber. They will be happy together.” Xandrea’s voice was level and strong, without a flinch or a crack.

“Are you mad?! You think the Webbers will forgive the Lancaster name so easily? You remember what I had to do for you and that- that boy!”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop it. You have always hated Ethan. This will be better for everyone. Let this go in peace.”

This made Rowan laugh. “Peace is the last thing you’ll find with the Webbers. They hate you and that meager excuse for a prince.”

Xandrea had no more words to say, no more words she could say.

“The only way you’ll marry Ethan to that Webber maiden is if every other Webber is dead, or have knives pressed to their throats.” 

“Is that something we are capable of?”

Rowan paused before leaving and looked back at Xandrea. “What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing, nothing at all except that since the attempt on Ethan’s life thirteen years ago we have slept with wolves for neighbors.”

In the early years of their marriage, Rowan might have struck Xandrea for making such a bold declaration. The king was too tired now. He muttered some vague curse under his breath and left their royal chambers. 

Xandrea prepared herself for the feast.