Fin stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long while. Standing only in his trousers, he regarded the new marks on his body with barely any emotion, save for the ancient magic symbol that was burned into his left pectoral… the symbol of his mother’s magic and mark of her curse. Not far off the mark was the thick ropey scar where the Troivackian King had stabbed him to death.

The burn scars on his shoulders made him let out the smallest annoyed sigh. Then he noticed under the first wave of his hairline what looked like two thin birthmarks lines running parallel to each other. They were not obvious to see unless one really looked under his hair at his scalp, and the redhead was momentarily puzzled until the vivid memory of the Goddess’ lips gently brushing his head flashed into his mind.

“Thought just my eyes were different…” Fin muttered to himself as he turned towards the steaming tub that sat in the centre of the chamber the King had provided for him to bathe and don a fresh set of clothes.

The chamber door suddenly opened and closed, startling the witch back a step. He then recognized the swish of silky ebony hair, and olive skin, and immediately felt his heart ache.

Facing him squarely, the Viscoutness’ face was a mask of calm composure, but her dark eyes a sea of emotions varying from worry, pain, relief, and hesitancy.

“You’re quite bold,” the Lady whispered, the intensity in her gaze making it difficult for the redhead to swallow.

“Annika-”

“You greet your kitchen aides before your wife?”

Fin winced, still unable to meet her stare as he pressed his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

He expected her to be angry, and knew she had every right to be. He expected her to tell him he was being selfish, but then...

He was suddenly in her embrace.

Her faint spicy smell wafted up to his nose… her form felt… warm… inviting.

“I’m so sorry about your mum,” Annika whispered into his chest, and somehow, all tension melted from Fin’s body as he collapsed into his wife’s hold and allowed himself to be soothed by her.

After several moments where neither of them moved or spoke, the redhead at long last took in a deep cleansing breath, then pulled back enough to plant a kiss on the top of Annika’s head.

“What… What happened?” she asked, her voice still slightly muffled from having her face turned away.

Fin wearily stepped back, and gently clasped her upper arms, staring morosely at her. As he stared however, Annika’s eyebrows twitched.

“Why are your eyes…”

“I died.”

The Viscountess blinked in shock.

“I saw the afterlife… I met the Gods… and then my mother cursed me and brought me back to life while sacrificing herself,” Fin recounted the story as quickly as possible. Not wanting to have to dwell yet again on the painful reminder that his decisions led to his mother’s death.

“How did you die?” Annika asked while refusing to release her husband from her arms.

“The Troivackian King ran me through with a sword when I… when I…” Fin frowned suddenly while staring at Annika curiously.

“I saw you get hurt,” the Lady began slowly after taking a guess at what was going through his mind. “You saw me too, I take it?”

The redhead nodded while his brow remained furrowed. “I’ve never been able to see a loved one in a vision while not at home before… nor have they ever been able to see me in return.”

“You’ve never been married before either. Is it possible that has something to do with it?”

Fin considered the notion for a moment before nodding. “That could be it… I do think that when a person has found their true home that they always have a connection to it…”

Annika nodded slowly before glancing at the steaming bath beside them. “Get in, I’ll wash your back for you.”

The witch gently reached up and pulled his wife’s hands free of his waist while stepping back.

“I need time to-”

“What is this?” Annika’s eyes swivelled immediately to the magic symbol burned in Fin’s chest, before she noticed the stab wound. “Gods… I’ll have to kill him…”

“You’re going to kill the King of Troivackia?” Fin asked with an empty smile. The expression dropped however when he looked in the Lady’s eyes and saw that she was entirely serious. “Don’t try to kill the King.”

Annika raised an eyebrow, but said nothing in response aside from, “Get in the tub.”

The redhead had intended to send the Viscountess away, had wanted to try and spare her from his grief, but…

He wound up being wordlessly bathed by his expecting wife. Then, she had carefully and lovingly dressed him before pulling him over to the bed, and gently pressing him back onto the soft coverlet.

“Sleep. You look like you haven’t had a proper rest since you were last on Daxarian soil.”

Fin opened his mouth to object until Annika flopped down beside him and nestled in closer.

The witch suddenly felt the small telling outward curvature of her belly, and grew stiff.

How had he not noticed before?

How was she already showing when it was still so early?

… And why did she feel like a human bed warmer?

Fin was pondering these questions silently, unaware that darkness was already creeping into his vision, pulling him into a sleep he didn’t know he so desperately needed.

Within minutes, the redhead was in a deep rest, and shortly after, his wife joined him. Both completely unable to resist the quiet comfort of each other’s presence after the traumatic events of the previous days.

*

The military men marched through the streets of Daxaria, and began going door to door to inform the citizens that the Troivackian army was likely going to attack by the end of the week. Most of the men in the city were already enlisted in the army, and any of the wives that did not have children or elderly parents to mind, were welcome to stay in the makeshift campsite that was going to be constructed to help tend to the wounded.

Meanwhile in the King and Queen’s chamber, the couple faced their son with their infant daughter resting in her mother’s arms.

Eric’s hands were balled into fists at his sides and his cheeks were tinted pink.

“I won’t go!”

“Sweetheart all the noble children are going, including your friend Morgan! We will send for you as soon as it is safe for us to be with you.”

“Why isn’t Lina going!” the young noble demanded, as his fear made his heart skip several beats.

“Your sister and mother will join you in another week. For now, Lina is too young to travel on her own, and I need your mother here to organize the camp and provisions while I work with the Captain to set up our lines of defense.”

“Then- Then I can stay and help mother! I-I should learn about war stuff too!”

“Eric… you are the future of Daxaria, it is your duty to remain safe until you are old enough to rule, do you understand?”

“I’m not a child!” the boy cried out while hastily using his sleeve to wipe away his running nose.

“Yes, my son, you are.” Norman stepped forward and knelt before the young Prince before resting his hands on his shoulders. “There is nothing wrong with being a child-- in fact, it is far more important than you know. You are entitled to your childhood, Eric. All boys and girls are, and it is the adults’ responsibility to protect it. When you are grown up, then it will be your job to protect the younger ones.”

Eric sniffled more before his father reached up and gently brushed his golden curls.

“You need to take your childhood to grow big and strong, because not only are you meant to one day protect the children, but everyone in Daxaria. So you, more than anyone, need time to become as wise, and good as possible. Can you do that for me?”

The seven year old clearly wanted to argue with his father, but setting his teeth on edge, eventually nodded.

“Thank you, Eric. You’re mother and I are so proud of you.” Norman scooped his child up in his arms and gave him a strong hug as the boy clung onto his tunic and sobbed.

Ainsley sniffled behind them, and even the Princess began to cry out, making the two royals pull apart and carefully include them in their embrace.

“It’s okay, L-Lina!” Eric announced, forcing a cheery tone through his tears. “W-When you come, I’ll make sure you have a crib and, and that everyone is nice to you!”

The infant’s eyes moved to her brother and immediately grew transfixed, her small brow occasionally furrowing as though she were trying to understand what he was saying.

A knock on the chamber door signalled the end of the family meeting. The King reluctantly stood and crossed the chamber, opening the door to reveal Captain Antonio.

“The men are in Austice and should have alerted everyone by tomorrow morning. We have set up roadblocks, and Knights have been assigned to guide the traffic into the woods,” the military man announced with a small bow.

Norman nodded seriously. “Excellent. How are the preparations for Katelyn’s burial?”

The Captain stiffened for a moment before tonelessly answering, “By tonight everything should be prepared.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t give her a proper ceremony and period of grieving for her, Antonio. She deserves-”

“It is the way of war, Your Majesty. I understand.”

The monarch gave a grim nod, but eyed his friend worriedly. “How is Lord Ashowan? He is aware we need to announce to the nobility by tomorrow morning his new status if he is to be permitted in all discussions pertaining to the battle?”

“I have yet to inform him. I will go see if I can find the Viscount.” Then, with another brief bow, the Captain excused himself and strode purposefully down the corridor, his blue cape swishing behind him.

*

Fin drew the fine black coat over his black tunic, and turned to leave the chamber while glancing at Annika’s sleeping face with a small sad smile.

Stepping out into the corridor, he magicked the door to remain locked unless Annika herself opened it- guaranteeing her privacy.

As he strode down the corridor, he began to grow increasingly aware of the stares the maids and nobles were giving him.

Despite no one knowing that he was a noble yet, they were still adjusting to the knowledge of him being a witch, and now… Now he was dressed in all black clothes made with quality material. He was certain he looked quite strange to them… Even so, their scrutiny was uncomfortable.

As the redhead rounded the corner, he headed towards the King’s council room, trying to avoid the curious gazes that seemed to be multiplying around him.

“FIN!”

The witch’s head snapped up, his teeth already on edge when he realized that the shout had come from none other than Eric who was streaking down the corridor to him.

The young Prince immediately threw his arms around Fin’s waist and hugged him.

“I’m so glad you’re back! Everyone’s going crazy!”

Patting the boy on the back, the redhead couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly at the child’s affection.

“Crazy how, Eric?”

“Well, mum and dad are sending me away to one of our keeps in the country with some of the other noble children… and the entire city is disappearing into the woods! Everyone is scared, and all my friends and their mothers are crying...”

Fin grimaced. He could feel the tension in the air as battle drew closer to them all… despite being back home, he couldn’t help but shake the cold darkness enveloping the castle.

“War is a frightening thing,” the redhead finally said as Eric pulled back and stared up at him.

“Your eyes are different,” the boy observed with a small frown.

“Ah… sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here! Mum and dad were really worried about you… Lady Jenoure seemed to keep fainting places and scaring the maids… Mr. Howard is drinking in his chamber and saying strange things about ‘lifetime of headaches’, and ‘one was bad enough’...”

Fin blinked in surprise. “You seem to know a lot about what’s going on around here.”

“Ever since that Mr. Helmer guy left, everyone hasn’t really noticed when I’m around… it’s been great!” The boy smiled excitedly up at the redhead, and despite himself, Fin couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“I’m glad you are having a good time… I need to go see if I can speak with your father, but Eric?”

“Yeah?” the boy asked, smiling cheekily.

“Thank you.”

The Prince’s confusion was obvious on his cherub face.

“I’ve been having a… a bad week. Seeing you helped me feel a bit better.”

The boy beamed proudly for a moment before it fell into a look of concern. “Why was your week bad?”

Reaching out and tousling the Prince’s hair, Fin answered, “Don’t worry about it.”

Then, striding the rest of the way over to the council room door, the redhead hesitated and turned to look at Eric’s back as he happily bounced down the corridor.

‘I wonder if my child will get to be friends with Eric… they’d be pretty lucky if that were the case.’