"I still can't believe she would do something like this!" Cyrus bristled as he paced up and down the entrance hall, "consorting with her guard?! As if there hasn't been enough talk already! What is she thinking?! And my father won't even say anything against it!"

Iolaus watched his friend cautiously. He was worried Cyrus might do something foolish. Like kill Iason. "She is not consorting," he started carefully, in an attempt to be diplomatic, "she is only considering him. And he is not her guard anymore. Your father the king released him from that duty. There is no need to get worked up about it. Iason is a good man."

Cyrus abruptly stopped pacing and turned to glare at him. "He is a soldier. His parents are farmers. She is only feeling sorry for him because he almost died."

Iolaus raised an eyebrow. "Like you are only jealous because she cares about someone other than you?"

When Cyrus' glare intensified, he sighed. "Can you not be happy for her? You've always known the king would never allow you to marry her. Did you expect her to remain alone for the rest of her life only because you can't have her? You're not being fair, Cyrus. She's been miserable ever since your father announced you were to marry. Should she stay miserable her entire life?"

Cyrus gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. A frustrated sigh escaped hi slips. "No, of course not."

"Then let her go," Iolaus said, "if Iason can make her happy, then what is your objective?"

To that, he had no response. Of course he had no right to decide who she should marry, but he knew that once she was somebody's wife, she would leave. He didn't like that thought at all.

When Cyrus didn't give an answer, Iolaus slapped his shoulder. "So please be nice to him. I'm sure you will like him once you get to know him."

"I won't have much choice, do I?" Cyrus said annoyed, "Vara invited him to this wedding. I have to be civil."

"Good boy," Iolaus grinned, "now smile. Your wife is approaching." He nodded at Ariane who slowly walked up to them. She was getting tired easily lately. When she had reached them, she curtsied, "My lord. Lord Iolaus."

Cyrus nodded curtly. "Ready?" He was eager to leave. The sooner they left, the sooner they'd arrive at Genvi. He was especially irritated that he would have to share his carriage with Iason since he was officially Vara's escort.

Ariane bit her lip and nodded. "I am ready, but should we not wait for lady Vara and her friend?"

"We can wait inside the carriage," Cyrus bristled and he stomped off.

Iolasu smiled at her kindly. "Don't worry, my lady, he is not upset with you." He offered her his arm and guided her outside.

"He does not approve of lady Vara's new suitor," Ariane said softly.

"He is just being stubborn," Iolaus said, "soon enough he will see she is happy. I wouldn't worry about it. For a long time he was the only man in her life. He just needs to get used to the idea."

"Of course," Ariane said quietly. She allowed him to help her into the carriage and carefully seated herself. The short walk had already tired her out.
She placed a hand on her stomach. It was hard to imagine a child was growing there. There was nothing to see yet. Lady Eurydice had told her what to expect. She was such a kind woman. "Is it far to Genvi, my lord?" she asked Cyrus.

"A few hours," he commented while looking out of the window to see if Vara was coming. What was taking so long? "Finally," he muttered when he saw her come out of the palace with Iason at her side. The solider was looking a little out of place. Instead of his usual garb he was wearing a simple tunic. Simple, but still good quality. It was probably something he owned but only wore on special occasions.
He awkwardly offered Vara his arm and guided her towards the carriage. She was softly talking to him, but Cyrus couldn't hear the words. Whatever she said to him seemed to encourage him, because he walked straighter.

"You took your time," Cyrus commented stiffly when both were seated across from him.

Vara rolled her eyes. "Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Cyrus glared at her, but before he could open his mouth to reply, Iason cleared his throat.

"Forgive me. It was my fault. I'm afraid I was delayed. The lady was kind enough to wait for me."

"Yes, Vara is very kind, isn't she?" Cyrus mocked.

Vara narrowed her eyes at him. "We're here now. Let's not delay any more."

Cyrus scoffed but signaled the driver to leave.

Slowly the carriage pulled out of the courtyard and they were on their way to Genvi.

...

"Congratulations!" Vara hugged Priskilla tightly and placed a kiss on Riccardo's cheek.

"Thank you, my lady," Riccardo smiled and he bowed to her, "welcome at Genvi. We are honored you could visit us."

"The honor is all mine, I assure you," Vara said, "may I introduce my escort, Iason Tessarae."

"Well met," Riccardo greeted and he stuck out his hand to clasp Iason's wrist. A faint smile was on his lips. "It pleases me to see you at lady Vara's side. Be welcome in our home."

"My lord honors me," iason bowed.

"Nonsense," Riccardo said. He slapped iason's shoulder, "enjoy the festivities. You and the lady have a seat at our table with the prince and his wife."

"We will," Vara smiled, "thank you." She motioned for Iason to follow her. She ignored the looks they were receiving from the other guests. By now she was sure word had already spread regarding her partner, but she did not care.

Iason however was more aware of the situation and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "People are staring, my lady," he said, "perhaps this was not a good idea. Surely you could have chosen someone more suitable to accompany you."

"Ignore them," Vara said, "they'll stare now and by tomorrow they'll find something else to gossip about. Ask me to dance and we will give them something to stare at," she smiled at him amused. "And no more 'my lady'. I have a name. You should get used to speaking it."

The corner of his mouth twitched nervously. "Very well," he said hoarsely, "will you do me the honor of this dance,... Vara?"

Her name on his lips was like a caress and for a moment she was the one nervous. Then she placed her hand in his. "I would be honored."

...

Darius sighed and rubbed his shoulder. The long day of training his men and signing stacks of decrees had worn him down. All he wanted now was a long hot bath and sleep.

Turning around to call for an errand boy, he jumped when he saw someone seated at the table. "What are you doing in here?" he asked briskly.

Elora rose to her feet. "You sent for me," she replied, "your guard escorted me here, but you had not yet arrived. So I decided to wait."

Darius blinked. He had sent for her? Yes, he remembered now. He had asked for her tonight, but his duties had kept him busy and he had forgotten. He was tired and wanted to send her back to her rooms, but conceiving an heir became more of an issue with each passing day and her cycle indicated this was the best day to ensure there would be a child.

Her voice broke his thoughts. "My lord looks tired."

"I am," he confirmed. He had slowly been taking over more and more duties from his father. Xerex was king in name only now. The rule of the kingdom was all on Darius' shoulders.

"I can ease some of the tension if you want," Elora offered.

Darius eyed her warily. "What are you talking about?"

Elora rolled her eyes. "Eloni and I were trained in the art of massage. Our mother taught us when she taught us how to extract oils from plants. It does wonders for the muscles."

Darius snorted. "I have no intention of smelling like a bouquet. And I doubt soft feminine hands will be able to work muscles."

"How ignorant men are," Elora scoffed, "there are other oils than those of lilies and roses. Lavos trades with Volton sometimes. We buy pine and sandal from them. Is that masculine enough for you, my lord?" She walked up to him. "Or are you afraid to be proven wrong by a woman?"

Darius narrowed his eyes. "Don't forget your place. You may be my wife, that doesn't give you authority."

"I don't want authority," Elora said, "I want to please my husband, but he is so thick headed that it is an impossible task. No one can please him. Nothing is ever good enough for him."

Her sharp words reminded him of another young woman that had spoken so freely and had slapped him for speaking the truth. Women! Why couldn't they just do as they were told? "Very well," he hissed through his teeth, "go ahead. Prove me wrong. But if you can't, you'll never talk to me that way again."

"Fine!" Elora bristled, "lie down on your stomach while I warm up the oil."

He was so taken aback by her response that he complied before he even realized it.

A moment later warm scented oil was poured over his back and soft hands started kneading his flesh. It was different from the regular massages he received in the bathhouse, but not unpleasant. Her hands moved slow but with purpose and after a while he could feel his body relax.

Perhaps female hands were not so useless after all.

Not that he would ever admit that to her.

Her soft voice reached him in his drowsy state. "I will leave you now to rest."

A sudden feeling of not wanting her to walk out that door made him look up. "You're here now," he said awkwardly, "you might as well stay."

She curtsied. "If it pleases you."

"Don't do that," he said stiffly, "it grates on my nerves."

Elora blinked confused. "I'm not sure I understand."

Darius sighed and sat up. "Your sister said it constantly. It was annoying."

"My sister is annoying?" Elora asked amused, "was it Eloise or Elvira?"

"How would I know?" Darius asked, "the older one. The other would barely look at me. I'd be surprised if she'd ever say that."

"She would," Elora hid a grin, "to grate on your nerves. Eloise would do it out of politeness."

Darius scrunched his nose. "How does your father handle you lot? I hope we have sons."

Elora's eyebrows rose. "Sons? As in multiple?"

Darius stiffened and Elora couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face. This man wasn't as bad as she had initially thought. He just wasn't used to women. It was actually quite adorable. "Well, I'm not opposed to that idea."

His throat was suddenly very dry as he looked at her.

There was a coy smile on her lips. "I suppose we should get started then. You're not getting any younger."

He wanted to snap at her, but the teasing glint in her eyes stopped him. He didn't want to argue. He had fought and argued his entire marriage to Zara. He didn't want that again.

Perhaps a few inappropriate comments every now and then wouldn't be so terrible. It wasn't like he had to spend every day with her.

"Well then," he said, "what are you still standing around for?" He reached for her and pulled her towards him.

...

"Are you still alright?" Vara asked softly, "you're not tired yet? You're still recovering after all."

Iason took her hand and spun her. "I'll be just fine." They fell back in line with the other dancing couples. "Unless you need to rest, my lady."

Vara laughed softly. "No, my lord, but I am hungry." As to emphasize her words, a loud growl came from her stomach. Vara's cheeks turned bright red.

It made Iason laugh. A few people looked up and the whispers began again. This time he ignored it. "Now I'll certainly never call you a lady again. No lady would ever allow that sound in public."

Vara stuck out her tongue at him. "If I had known that was what it would take to make you call me by first name, I would have done so sooner." She took his hand and tugged him towards a serving boy who was holding a tray with snacks. She thanked the boy and guided Iason to a quieter corner of the garden. Her eyes fell on Riccardo and Priskilla who had only eyes for each other. "Look at them," she smiled, "they look so happy."

Iason nodded. "They do." He glanced at Vara. "That could have been you."

Vara looked up at him. "I don't regret what I did. They belong together. What difference does it make if you are noble born or not?"

Iason sighed. "Do you really want to marry me? Or are you only settling for me, because you can't be with the person you love?"

Vara looked away sadly. "There are many gradations of love," she repeated the words of lady Eurydice, "that does not make one less real than the other. All love needs to grow." She looked at Iason. "I would never want to hurt your feelings, Iason, especially when I know you care for me. My feelings for that person..." She was cautious not to mention Cyrus' name where it could be overheard, "might never completely vanish, that doesn't mean I can't love someone else. All I ask is that you are patient with me. And if you rather leave and find someone else, then all you have to do is tell me. I won't stop you."

Iason shook his head. "No, I don't want anyone else. I just want to make certain you would not regret this."

Vara smiled at him with watery eyes. She took his hand and kissed his knuckles. "Never," she promised him.

...

King Xerex of Tirèze turned his weak head towards the window and watched the starry sky. How bright they shone tonight. Such a beautiful sight. How often had he taken the time to admire them?

Not often enough, that was certain.

The king let out a weary sigh. His years wore heavily on him. He could feel it in his bones.
Lately he had been wondering about his life. Had he made the right decisions? Had he raised his children well? Only two had been granted to him. His heir and his daughter, who now lived so far away. Had he done right by them?

Ariane was such a beautiful young woman. He hoped that she was happy in Zeir. The messages he received were promising.

And Darius. His proud and headstrong son. King Xerex hoped his son's new wife would give him an heir. The girl had visited when she had just arrived in the palace. He liked her. The lavender she had placed in his room helped him sleep at night. Torcan had told him the girl made her own scented oils. He had heard they did that in Lavos.

Ah yes, Torcan. His father's cousin's son. Stolen as a child and maimed. That's why he had been sent to court. Such a kind boy. It was good he was at Darius' side.

King Xerex sighed again. Such a kingdom he had built. How he had loved the vast deserts. So long had it been since he had ridden his horse across the sands. A magnificent kingdom. His son would rule it well, he was certain.

A faint smile appeared on the king's lips. His proud boy with eyes just like his mother's. He had inherited her fiery nature too. Such a willful child she had been. The only girl he had ever loved. Her death had struck him deeply. It had hardened his heart to all other women. Still, his advisors had urged him to produce more children. With only one son, the kingdom would be left vulnerable.

They were right of course, but he was careful. He knew about the rivalry between the women in the harem. He was not convinced Delara's death had been an accident.

A few year later, Ariane had been born. He didn't know which woman had conceived her and he did not care. After that he had not been granted more children.

Ariane. Perhaps he should have given her more attention growing up. Of course his spies kept him informed. She was fed, clothed and educated. At the time that had been enough.

Had it been enough?

Questions. So many questions. All left unanswered now.

With his eyes still on the night sky, king Xerex drew his last breath.