Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Six
Isabella was annoyed. She was so annoyed that at dinner, she pouted for five minutes straight while remarking on how the duck tasted anything but mellow. Well, I personally enjoyed the duck, especially because it was roasted to perfection, but Isabella wanted to fuss, so I simply let her fuss. She was allowed to be as fussy as she wanted, and while her tempers were apparently the stuff of legends, I weathered them like the harshest of storms.
It was only in the privacy of our chambers, once the servants had been dismissed, that she finally voiced her displeasure plainly. "Henry, the Crown makes deals with the nobles to earn money, not to lose it," she huffed, "You cost the Crown of Gallia a pitiful sum, admittedly, but twenty thousand ecus are not something that can be wasted daily," she grumbled. "Bricks, for example-or wood, who cares? Let the commoners go without and die. They can always chop some of their own-they have plenty on that island, don't they?"
I crossed my arms in front of my chest even as I lay down on the bed, glancing at the ceiling. "How much did the Crown earn instead from the monopoly on furs, windstones and sulfur?" I asked back.
"A good enough sum," Isabella admitted. "Which would have been greater by twenty thousand ecus, but is now twenty thousand ecus less," she pointed out neatly. "Did you know that sometimes, the difference between a painting worthy of an Archduke and one worthy of a King is indeed a mere twenty thousand ecus? Between a four hundred and twenty thousand, and a four hundred and forty thousand-there is quite the difference in style."
"You do understand that a family survives on one hundred ecus a year, perhaps even less?" I hazarded. "Selling the grain at twenty times the normal price, in a country that doesn't have work yet because Reconquista destroyed most of it during the fight against the Royals-everything needs to be rebuilt. If it is rebuilt properly, even though the costs are-"
"Henry, Henry," Isabella whispered, snuggling closer, "I don't want to talk about filthy commoners dying in ditches because they're freezing up in Albion tonight," she said calmly, which made me shudder -even though the fireplace was going something fierce. "I want to hear all about your adventures, and your scars," and the people that I need to punish for letting you earn those scars was left unsaid, but not really hidden from her tone. "I want to hear about how you made the lords of Reconquista surrender to your dashing smile," her fingers began to eagerly trace upon my right shoulder, "And how you won the duel against the Prince Valiant, reducing him to nothing but tiny pieces of blood and metal."
"Tensions with Germania and Tristain will reach an all new high, Isabella," I pointed out. "And I wasn't the one who did the convincing," I added. "I think it was your father's handiwork actually," I continued. "Many of the nobles in favor of continuing the war died due to accidents, but it was pretty clear only a fool would believe such a-"
Isabella roughly kissed me, and I blinked as she smiled brightly, "I don't want to talk about my father, or about tensions with other countries. Tonight is our night, my dear husband. So tell us about what you did, and be brave and bold in your telling."
I furrowed my brows, and then exhaled, letting a hand curl around Isabella's shoulders as her head propped down on my chest. "So, where do I begin? We send the fleet manned by General Bowood and his men to assault Dartanes, after having written a message to General Hawkins about how we would assault Rosais-"
By the time I was done narrating my valiant assault on the top of the hill -placing the conquest to a fire spell well placed- Isabella was already nibbling at my ear.
She stopped when I reached the part where I fought off an armored man with a sword armed only with a banner. She looked at me with a paling face as I narrated the set of motions-and then she proceeded to slam her fist down on my stomach, much to my -and my stomach's- dismay.
"That sort of foolishness! You held on to the flag like a commoner and fought like one! That-that's foolish, Henry! You have a wand! You should have used it! Your men, rather than gawking like imbeciles or morons should have shot the man dead! Intervened! Done something other than watch you fight alone!" she had tears in her eyes as she began to sniffle, "What would I have told our child? That his father died a commoner's death pierced by a sword? Is that it!? Then you wonder-then you wonder why I do not wish to see you lead the men! You are brave, but foolish too!" she huffed, and turned to give me her back. "We are very cross with you, our beloved husband! So very cross!"
I stared at her back, and then sighed as I made to remove my hand from beneath her neck. In answer, she gripped on it strongly, "We are really cross!" Isabella exclaimed once more.
"Isabella," I said with a chuckle, "Are you trying to play on my love for you to convince me to drop the issue of the Marshal baton?"
Isabella didn't speak at first, but I could feel her feet shuffling at the bottom of the bed. "We are tired," Isabella muttered with a sense of finality to the argument. "So we will rest." She gripped tighter on my arm, and didn't let go. A few minutes later, and she began to brush the side of her cheek against the crook of my arm, and I inwardly groaned.
"Isabella, I need my arm," I pointed out. "You know that."
"It's our arm now," Isabella huffed from her side. She then belatedly hummed. Her fingers delicately began to trace my knuckles, "And these are our knuckles," her fingers moved down across mine, "And these are our fingers-and this is our hand, and our wrist, and our arm," and as she said that, she slowly rolled around until she was once more with her head on my chest, her eyes gazing at the ceiling just like mine were.
"My mother had all the care in the world, my Henry," Isabella whispered. "The best healers, water mages, wet nurses-she had the very best of everything, my Henry...and yet she died all the same," her arms moved up and her hands gingerly touched my cheeks. "And when I think about that, in the middle of the night, I pray the Gods it will not happen to me too," she said softly. "I pray them fervently, my Henry. Day and night, when I have the time. I pray for them to keep you in good health, and for our child to be in good health, and for me to be in good health too. There is so much I want to do, my Henry," she murmured. "I want to see all of Romalia's best, all of the Founders' holy sites, taste all of the delicacies of the world-I want the world to be my oyster, my Valhalla because...because if I do die, then...then even if I go to heaven, if there is no Henry waiting for me up there...what kind of Valhalla is that?"
I looked away with an awkward expression on my face, only for Isabella to giggle cutely.
"Aw...my beloved, you're blushing," she teased. "That is such a cute look on your face."
"T-That's bloody unfair, Isabella," I said. "I...I will stay close to you, my beloved-but if nothing happens, as I know it will be, then after our son, or daughter, is born...I will resume my duties as a leader of the army."
"Very well," Isabella said with a giggle. "But until then, you are all mine," Isabella grinned. "And I am going to make the most of this, oh yes, I am."
The fire crackled in the fireplace, and while outside the sky was darkened by clouds, the moons shone, and illuminated the roofs of Lutece.
All was right in the world.
Except the incoming apocalypse.
One problem at the time though.
One problem...at the time.
