Fan Fiction ❯ Spirit of the Dragon ❯ Dear Father ( Chapter 17 )

Chapter Seventeen

The prince was confused by her sudden mood change. He heard a sigh, and then her face morphed into a frown.

"What is wrong?" He asked kindly.

She looked up, as if remembering where she was, and shook her head. There was a kind of sorrow embedded in her gaze. It was the way…well, it was the way he probably stared at her, when she wasn't looking. With a kind of longing that would not cease, as long as love remained unrequited. But he told himself this was wishful thinking. Such a look couldn't possibly be aimed at him. Could it be aimed at…Ronori? And then he was no longer in the best of moods either.

Acanthus said sharply: "You are thinking of him, are you not?" Even he could hear the jealousy in it.

Crowe gave him another look this time. It was pity, and he resented it.

"I often think of him, Acanthus."

He glowered.

"But it is not what you think…" She went on. "You see, lately I've felt a little abandoned. Bless you, for being so kind to me here, and treating me as a friend. But in case you haven't noticed, no one's tried to rescue me. And although I've grown to love it here, this fact is a little…sobering." Another sigh escaped those lips. "If Rono was in my position, the armies would be upon you in an instant."

He was no longer glaring at her. "Did I not tell you, Crowe? Your nation `saw' your demise. You are nothing more than a phantom to them. A legend in her own time."

"So they really think I'm dead?" He had mentioned it before, but it seemed so unimaginable to her. Then her eyes flickered, as if she had unearthed a memory in her mind. "Duxess exitia…" She put a hand to her mouth. "That's what they were saying…" Those lips trembled. "I can almost remember…"

The infamous duel. Somehow he didn't want her to remember.

Then the baby saved him, for it began to kick again.

"Goodness…" She winced. "It is…ahhhh!" Her face contorted in pain. "Acanthus…I think, I think it's coming."

"Bright Green Lady." His face went white. "But we are miles from the castle…"

"It's too early." She gasped, hunching foreword. "Acanthus, help!"

He looked at her helplessly. "We-we must get back to Frostleaf. Come on." He pulled her to her feet, and the two of them raced for the carriage. There was no time to worry about the food they had brought.

Once she was situated next to him, he thrashed the reigns and the horses neighed in surprise. The rickety cart took off in a swirl of dust.

He could tell she was on the brink of panic, but he could offer no assistance. He was on the brink of panic himself.

"Acanthus…" She whimpered.

"Hold on." By some miracle, the vehicle didn't tip, and they made it at last to the Heart of Drunesmerre. The towers of Azalea Castle greeted them like the gates of Heaven.

The gates fell open. He stopped the carriage inside.

"Get Frostleaf!" He instructed one of the bewildered guards. "Now!"

Frostleaf arrived there faster than his old legs should have carried him, and he was at Crowe's side, giving her words of comfort.

"It's too early…" She kept gasping as the two men helped her to her feet.

"Children have survived sooner births." Frostleaf said calmly, "Don't worry, Crowe. You're in good hands." The infirmary was too far away, so they went to her room instead. Frostleaf turned to Acanthus when they got there: "Go get the nurses."

Acanthus nodded stupidly and ran.

He returned to them with two nursemaids and a midwife. They set to work, for they knew the routine.

"Go get some cold water." One of them instructed him. The rules of social standing were switched. He was being ordered around like a pageboy.

But he obeyed diligently, and ran again to the water pump outside her door. He then realized he had nothing to put it in, and ran again to the kitchen, and finally came back frantically while clutching a bowl. Once it was filled, he was gasping for breath. But Crowe sounded worse, when he entered the room.

"Here…" He croaked.

"Put it on her forehead." Frostleaf told him.

Acanthus did as he was told, and kept his eyes away from what was happening below him. With the amenity of a friend, he dipped an offered cloth in the bowl and pressed it to her brow. She smiled up at him weakly, and then let out a cry.

"Wh-why is she screaming?" Acanthus stammered.

"She's in pain, Canth." Frostleaf was being patient with him. "What did you expect?"

Somehow he hadn't imagined childbirth being so insufferable. He felt sick.

"That's enough Acanthus." Frostleaf had recognized the young man's distress. "Now you're in the way, so why don't you wait outside?" They could survive easily with him there, but the excuse caused Acanthus immense relief.

"Very well…" He touched Crowe's arm before disappearing out the door.

Acanthus spent his next two hours pacing furiously across the courtyard. What if something went wrong? If Crowe became hurt at all…No. She is not Begonia. She was not the frail creature King Cornelius had so loved. She was strong and brave and capable of surviving this. But still…In some ways, waiting without knowing was worse than being beside her. He thought of going back for just a moment, and then recalled her shattering cries; it was all too much for him to stand.

"Acanthus." The man behind the greeting was more startling than the sudden voice.

"Father." The prince could not conceal his puzzlement. "What brings you out here?" As a side note he wondered how the man made it down the stairs.

"I heard from a courtier that the girl was delivering. How is she?"

Under any other circumstances, Acanthus would have brushed him coolly aside. But he was too weary to uphold his grudge for the time being. "She looked so pale, father…" His voice became that of a child's, lost and alone.

"Dear Acanthus…" The king's eyes, gray-green like his own, were full of compassion. "She will be fine. It is not that which concerns me."

The prince began pacing again. "Why do you not come out and say it?" He walked the full length of the courtyard and came back before Cornelius obliged him.

"She is a Gardrothian."

"Thank you for pointing that out, father." Acanthus said curtly. "I had not noticed."

"Sarcasm is not befitting of a king-to-be."

Acanthus growled and left him again. "Ah yes, now I am getting advice from the man who cannot even run his own kingdom. Save your breath, father."

"You have to hear it, Acanthus. If not from me then it will be from your people, marching against you in a revolution."

"Ha!" He dismissed the idea with a snort. "That is rubbish."

"Is it now? Listen to what your people are saying, Acanthus."

"They are saying nothing!"

"Exactly. They are fearful. Fearful of what you are becoming." The king waited for him to pace one last time before he went on: "Fire spouting from the ground below you. Keeping company with a Gardrothian Duxess…This is not the way royalty should behave."

"Who cares?!" Acanthus said explosively. "I did not choose to be what I am! Just as I did not choose for the fire to overtake me! Just as I do not choose to love-" He cut himself off. He dared not finish. Everyone knew how he felt. But he would not say it out loud. Especially not to this contemptible soul.

"Save your anger, Acanthus. Save me for the Gardrothians."

Spirit? Why do you return to me now?

"You called me. You always call me."

Acanthus closed his eyes. He felt mentally drained.

"I am not telling you to change, Acanthus." Cornelius' placidness was aggravating. "I am telling you that they want you to change." He rested a firm hand on Acanthus' shoulder, and his son was too tired to push him away. "I want for you to be happy, Acanthus. But a king's happiness lies in a delicate balance. If he weighs it against his people's contentment, surely the scale will fall."

"Spare me your allegories." Acanthus remembered to push that hand away.

Cornelius actually looked wounded by this. "I see it works both ways." His son did not understand this statement. "It seems you also cannot overlook the important things, just for the sake of your people."

Was that in his favor? Acanthus watched him hobble away.

Not long after, Crowe's door swung open, and his heart was in his throat. "How is she?"

"She's fine!" It was one of the nursemaids. "Just exhausted."

"And the child?"

"Come see, Prince! It's a healthy baby boy!"