“Hello, Emeria!” The young man in charge of the market greeted her with a smile and a nod to her baskets. “Someone’s been asking about strawberries this morning, you know!”

She smiled in return, lifting her basket a bit higher.

“I have plenty to go around.”

“Good, good. You can set them over here.” He gestured to a table next to the counter of baked goods. “If you need to get back home, I can slip the coins into your pouch.”

“I’m going to do a little browsing myself,” she replied. “I got a request, from a lovely young lady.”

He nodded, chuckling as he still grabbed out several coins as he walked over to her baskets and counted the berries Emeria had brought.

“Ah. Delilah? How is she?”

“I got her some books. She’s lucky that learning too many things won’t make her head explode.”

They laughed goodheartedly at the joke she made.

“Well, she’s a bright girl, she’s got to do something with those smarts, right?”

Emeria, feeling proud of her young girl, nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Go find what you’re looking for. I’ll finish getting your payment ready.”

“Thank you, Ben,” she said as she started off to where she’d seen the raspberries nearby.

After grabbing a small handful of raspberries, she wandered around to the other items within the market and grabbed a few more things they needed.

When she reached the young woman who helped Ben with the market, she greeted her kindly but continued past the goods in front of her.

“No slice of cake today, Emeria?” She asked.

“No,” Emeria said with a small smile that belied her guilt. “It has a very tempting smell though.”

They smiled at each other.

It was a slice of their current dessert or nearly ten pages for Delilah to read. Emeria had been saving up for some time and about once or twice a month, she’d buy a slice of something for them both and they’d have a little celebration. She hadn’t bought cake in a few months, as she’d been saving up a little extra to get those books when Leah told her she’d been able to get some for her.

As she wandered about for another minute, to see if she could afford anything else, she overheard a conversation nearby.

“Leah said the King is headed on a trip soon, over to Exelia! It’s said he might go through some of the border towns, to see how things are!” The voice was that of the man who lived across from the market. He sounded excited.

“I wonder if he’ll come through here?”

“We don’t even have enough extra lodging for even a few knights, let alone the number of knights the King will bring with him. It’s more likely they’d go through Rivedge.” But despite the bit of discouraging news aired, he continued, “But remember when our crop was wiped out down here? They supplied us with seed and food. They might come and check in on how we are!”

“Don’t get your hopes up, buddy. They might just hear the news of how we are from Rivedge.”

Rivedge, the town they crossed a river to get to, that the same river cut a line right through the middle of, rested nearby, just a few miles away. The crop grounds of both this village and Rivedge, met halfway.

She brought all her items to Ben, who calculated the cost and gave her the remainder of her money from the berries. It was more than she’d expected, but she wouldn’t complain. She’d been picky today and didn’t have as much to bring home.

As she walked alongside the unpaved road, she came across a little girl and boy trying to reach an apple in the tree in their yard.

“Mama told us to pick three!” The young girl called.

With a small smile, Emeria walked closer, setting her basket of things down a safe distance away from them.

“Can I help?”

They both turned to look at her at the same time. It didn’t take them long to recognize her.

“Miss Emeria!”

They ran over in her direction with smiles on their faces. She met them halfway and gave them each a hug. They explained that their mother had asked that they pick three of the lower apples, but they’d noticed there were riper ones a little higher and couldn’t reach them.

She knelt down and had one of them climb up and sit on her shoulders, so that when she stood, they could reach the ones they wanted to. The young boy on her shoulders laughed in glee when he gently tossed down the apples, one at a time, to his sister.

“THANK YOU!” They both shouted to her as they ran back to the door of their house, their hands holding the apples.

“Mama! Mama! Miss Emeria helped us!”

The mother they’d met just inside the doorway, peered out with another little child in her arms as Emeria picked up her basket again.

She waited until Emeria stood up straight and caught her eyes before she mouthed her gratitude with a warm and grateful gaze. “Thank you.”

Emeria nodded with a small smile and headed back home. In her head, she made a list of the chores she needed to finish by the end of the day.

Wash my dresses today.

Blankets too, if I have time.

Weed the berries.

Fix the door frame.

As Jizelle entered his room, taking a glance both ways down the hallway warily, King Owen of Felshare put down the papers he’d been looking over.

Ah, he thought, that’s today, isn’t it?

He liked to pour himself into his work. If he couldn’t help himself, then he’d help everyone else, in as many ways as he could. Sometimes, he was told that kings could be selfish, and there were many who were. But he’d simply tell them the truth.

He couldn’t be.

He wouldn’t allow himself to be.

It wasn’t some kind of lofty purpose or goal that he had in his mind. It was just that he needed a distraction from his own mind. Too long with his thoughts, and he would think about that letter tucked away all by itself in the locked drawer of his nightstand. The only key to it was always on him, but rarely ever used. Sometimes, just knowing it was there, he felt like he was getting burned irreparably. Just by its presence, just by feeling the shape of the key was akin to touching metal above a roaring fire.

From there, it would just spiral down an unending staircase of his own thoughts, leading him to somewhere he’d never been and he wasn’t sure it was a place he should venture to. He’d think about those bright green eyes, that day, when finally, for once, he walked around without having the heavy weight of responsibility – the weight of an entire kingdom on his shoulders. Where he’d felt romantic notions and acted how he was inside. The one day he hadn’t been a Crown Prince, but just himself. Just a man.

He’d trusted his feelings.

And he’d loved every bit of it.

That’s when the selfish thoughts came rushing back to him, about wanting to leave, to run, to ignore what was written on that small piece of paper he kept safe and hidden. He felt a desire to just do as he wished, even if it didn’t help anyone, even himself, and especially…

No.

How could he leave the people of this kingdom, when he knew who would take over when he left?

The Queen.

Ariana.

Even his mind called her name with scorn.

And as much as their wedding shouldn’t have been turned into this mess of poisonings and nefarious plots, it had. Granted, she didn’t kill anyone personally, and she didn’t ever poison Owen himself, but she did it to everyone who could take her spot, to anyone who could become a queen, or hold as much power as one, upon giving him a child. It was never by her own hand and she never confessed to inciting such things. It was always through yet another one of her desperate underlings that people came to sickness and their own demise. And more often than not, nobody did die, but without immediate care, they would have.

And he didn’t even want to think of the number of children Ariana had forced into non-existence through her methods…

Ariana wanted to be the only one to have his child. She didn’t want anyone to have a chance, or even come close to taking her spot in society and royalty. Years of nothing hadn’t deterred her either. And that was why, when Jizelle came into his room, she sneakily tried to spot a messenger of the Queen hidden in the shadows of the hallway, someone who would then relay the fact that Owen and Jizelle’s night had occurred. It was his aide and each individual lady who knew their day. It was meant to remain a secret to all others, including the council and the queen for precisely this reason. They’d tried to keep it hidden as best they could, but in a castle full of eyes and ears, with doors and walls that were never entirely soundproof, it was hard to keep anything a secret.

Someone always saw something.

Or in the case of Ariana’s misdeeds and crimes, nobody saw anything.

Jizelle sighed, closing the door to King Owen’s room behind her wearily.

In coming here, rather, in any of the ladies coming to his room, put a direct target on them. And yet, if they could get away with it, if they would have the child of the king, wouldn’t it be better than that nightmarish witch having his child?

The short answer, was yes.

Anyone was better than her.

Silently, each of the ladies had made this pact with one another. If one of them were to get pregnant with a future heir, they would all protect that person… with their own lives. Drink from their glass before they do, eat from their plate to secure that it wasn’t filled with a poison as well. Jizelle knew that Owen had an inkling about their pact, but he never dared ask them aloud.

“Do you think we could be entirely silent tonight?” Jizelle whispered to him.

Owen, having risen from his chair and walked over to her as she sat on the edge of the bed, nodded.

He could follow her train of thought easily. If the Queen knew she’d come here, but had someone wait and listen for any noises within the room… then if things were completely silent, she may be spared. That is, if the Queen would buy it – a lady coming into his room and simply sleeping. He wasn’t sure it would turn out like that, but he was willing to accept any conditions they brought to him. After all, it was on their time, and they were the ones receiving the wrath of the Queen. What kind of monster wouldn’t grant their little requests like this?

And without realizing it, the ladies, with having their requests fulfilled and listened to… it was the reason they kept coming back. Owen, in his gentle kindness and understanding, had gained the respect of the ladies he’d been forcibly asked to sleep with, over and over again.

As they undressed and climbed up onto the mattress, the room was full of silence, so much that it was nearly overwhelming.

Owen brushed the hair away from Jizelle’s face and took a good look at her, staring directly into her eyes, holding her gaze.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

It wasn’t whether she was sure about the silence, rather it was about whether she was willing to sleep with him, yet again, or even at all. He always asked this to them before doing anything, and the answer wasn’t always yes. When it wasn’t, he helped them dress and left it at that. Sometimes, they simply asked to be comforted or held in a warm embrace, nothing more and nothing less. He was more than happy to comply to their needs.

Jizelle nodded, her eyes sincere and without hesitation.

“Yes,” she whispered.

It was duty. It wasn’t love. Both of them knew it and just went through the motions. Sure, there was always a sort of dull pleasure within the silent giving and taking, within the act itself. Before long, they were more exhausted than when they started and they flopped down, on either side of the bed to drift off closer to sleep.

As promised, they’d been entirely silent, taking things slower than usual in order to keep it that way.

As Jizelle stared up at the ceiling, high above the bed, she let out a slow breath.

Maybe because we were quiet, she thought, Queen Ariana will let up a bit and think we just slept. Maybe this time she won’t know I was here. But who is to know. It’s not like I can see everything hiding in the shadows…

“Thank you,” she whispered to Owen.

He, in giving her a faint smile, shook his head, keeping his voice quiet.

“There’s no need for that. We don’t know if she’ll still try something.”

She nearly shook her head in disbelief. How he’d managed to read into the situation, to understand why she’d asked it of him… it always surprised her.

Rolling over onto his side, facing her, his eyes closed.

She watched him a moment before her gaze returned to the ceiling. Owen was a good king, and a good man… but sometimes, there was a look in his eyes, a sort of longing and disquiet that was so intense. It was only in moments of deep vulnerability that she saw it… Any other time, he kept it bottled up tight, under lock and key, not giving anyone a chance to see or even ask why it was there. Jizelle had guesses, as all of them did, but none of them had any evidence or proof.

And he never said anything himself.

It was only in the times they shared a bed that she really noticed it.