FicWad

After three more months, Jack goes home to visit with Kerrigan. She delivered a baby boy and is again wearing her corsets. Normally, they do not hold much in. She is a very thin woman, but immediately after the baby is born, she has a little flesh to hold to her. Jack thinks she looks good a little heavier, but he does not dare to say it, as her husband did so earlier that morning, and at noon when Jack arrived he was still sitting in the parlor nursing his wounds and screaming profanities most foul. Jack casually asks him for military advice, but he has no suggestions. Kerrigan is sitting in bed awake telling a fairytale to the child. It is not the kind of fairytale that most parents would tell, but it is the kind that Kerrigan knows. It really happened. She was there. She is not reading it out of a book, but Jack waits for her to finish before he walks in. She motions for him to sit, and he obeys. The child is a week old and quite active. Kerrigan named him Marcuriel. He has his mother’s dark hair and pale skin and Jack’s striking eyes.

“He’s lovely, Kerr.”

“You never thought you would father a child without red hair, did you?”

“No.”

“You did not. I was alone with a few of my servants when he was born, and I changed his hair color with magic. He looked much like you. It will only take a bit of magic to keep his hair this way. Perhaps your sister might be able to help.”

“I’ll not be askin’ her for favors.”

“I will, and I will pay her well for it. In fact, I believe I will take him on a trip as soon as he is old enough. Morietur has business with the Witches just before the harvest. I will go with him.”

Outside, the July heat is oppressive. Jack sits in the orchard with Kerrigan and the baby with no suit jacket or tie. Jack tries to imagine the boy with red hair. He realizes what Kerrigan meant when she said that the baby looked like him. He has Jack’s eyes, but she did not change them. She pulls out a photograph of some of her other sons when they were younger. Jack realizes who they are. Looking out from the portrait are a young Lennitur, a very young Lyritur, and an infant Hessitur. Lennitur and Lyritur were attacked in a bar. Lennitur came through his battle with Lycanthropy and went to prison for the fight. Lyritur was never brought to court because of severe illness. Hessitur died in a theater fire only a few years later. Kerrigan was the one trying to throw back the fire and control it, and she did, but she was too late to save him. It was in her arms that her son died. Death refused to take him to Nevermore, so Hessitur haunts the theater where he died. Hessitur likes Lyritur because Lyritur will never see him any differently than he did when he was alive because Lyritur is blind, and Lyritur visits him often.

Jack looks at the portrait their mother has of them as children, and there is an odd resemblance of Lennitur and Hessitur to Marcuriel. The Devil stops by to see his grandson, and the baby kicks and yawns. He is a quiet child, as most of Kerrigan’s children are. The Devil and Kerrigan speak in Demonic. Jack does not understand what they are saying. Jack’s wife stops by to see the baby and admonishes him for not fetching her first. Jack and Lynn leave in a somber mood. Lynn wants children of her own. It is not for lack of trying that they have not conceived a child. Jack is terrified to ask his sister for help, though one day he may have to do just that in order to placate his wife.

Jack is exhausted. He raced to Kerrigan’s side as fast as he could when he heard that the baby was born. He did not stop home first. In order to make it up to his wife, he offers to bring her to the theater. After the play, Lynn and Jack depart. Jack then brings her to a bar in Kilainaigh City. From time to time, he drinks at McFinn’s Publick House. Dermott McFinn, the bar’s owner, knows the twins from their days in the Academy. Jack helped him build the pub many years earlier. Jack even hid there for a time during the Revolution when his own country was not safe. It is his oldest haunt and his favorite bar, but the distance is too great for him to travel there often. Dermott remembers Lynn as a teacher and still calls her Miss O’Brien, though technically she is Mrs. Shepherd. Jack and Lynn drink and socialize with people they know. The twins arrive shortly after Jack and Lynn.

“Sean! Seamus! Over here!” calls Jack.

“Jack!?” exclaims Sean.

“Lynn!?” exclaims Seamus.

“Buy ye a pint?” suggests Jack. They agree. The twins will never refuse free alcohol. Instead of beer, Jack buys claret for the whole table. Lynn is impressed. The twins are amazed. Usually Jack drinks only whiskey. Jack raises a toast to Marcuriel.

Some students at the Academy, who technically should not be out drinking the night before an exam, come over to the table. The two young men are in their final year, and their exam is to be administered the next morning by Edana Kavanagh, Kerrigan by the name given to her in the life in which she became a Banshee. They are studying foreign history, meaning the history of the nations of Hell aside from that of the Banshees. They have only recently learned about Vampiric history, and their test is on the Vampire revolution and the workings of Vampire government. They sit in awe as Jack explains how things actually work over several bottles of claret and port. They know who he is. They know about his deeds in the revolution. They do not know how tolerant he is of alcohol. The history book, written by his best friend and published by his brothers, left out the identification of his favorite drink.

All of a sudden, a couple of musicians show up. Jack and Lynn dance for a few hours, whirling gracefully to jigs and reels. Lynn is an amazing dancer. Jack is not bad at it, but everyone looks amateur next to his wife. She flashes a bright smile at everyone who is watching, which is everyone in the bar. Dermott McFinn even pulls his wife down from their upstairs apartment to dance with him. Jack and Lynn return home tired, but energetic at the same time from the dancing, more than a little drunk, and very much in love. Lynn realizes that she was not even dressed for the occasion, but she does not care. She loves her fine silk dresses, but on a hot summer night, a simple cotton dress suits her.

Jack changes out of his suit and into a pair of green linen trousers and a linen leine with a leather belt around the waist. He puts on an old pair of brogues that match the belt. These were the clothes he was raised to wear. He has become accustomed to suits and jackets with buttons and buckles and fine shoes, but he is still more comfortable sleeping out under the stars than in a feather bed and wearing a leine than a suit. Jack and Lynn walk into the woods together. The stream is swollen from recent rainfall, and Jack knows of a peaceful place where it pools very deeply. It is where he goes to think about things when he cannot get privacy anywhere else. Before he can even tell Lynn what he has in mind, she has her dress, corset, and shoes off and is removing her simple petticoat. He removes his shirt, which he does around nobody other than his wife, siblings, and Kerrigan, who all know why the scars are there. Lynn unpins and unbraids her knee-length hair while he is struggling with his trousers and shoes. She is already completely naked, which distracts him immensely. They stand on a rock above the deep pool of water. It is not deep enough to dive in, but she lunges forward and catches him off guard. He lands on his back in the water with her on top of him.

The two lovers swim around in the cool water for quite some time. It is comfortable in the oppressive heat of the night. Jack wishes that he could spend every summer night swimming and sleeping under the stars. He wishes, from time to time, that he did not have money. He wishes instead that he was living in the countryside, farming the land and tending animals for a living. He wishes this in much the same way as the farmer wishes for wealth and greatness, with one notable exception. Jack did live that way for a long time. He does know what it is like to face famine. He would rather face famine than mothers crying that their sons are dead because of his war. It is not his war. He did not attack first. He banishes the thought. His wife splashes his face with water. He chases her around.

In places, the water is so deep that even he cannot touch the bottom. The river is flooded. He warns Lynn not to swim out into the current but to stay in the pool. He chases after her, but she manages to avoid him, and he lets her win. She strays too close to the current and gets dragged down the river. Her screams pierce the night. Jack swims after her. The current is very fast, and he struggles to catch up to her. He sees her go under the black water. He dives down to look for her by the moonlight. The midnight world of the dark water casts everything in a deathly green glow. He finds her at long last a few yards ahead of him. He races to catch her. He wraps his arm around her waist and drags her to the surface. He finds a tree root and grabs it with his other hand. It takes all of his strength to put her on the riverbank and drag himself out of the current. He loses his grip and she runs alongside him on the riverbank offering her hand. It is a romantic gesture, but he knows if he takes it she will be dragged back into the river. He swims along with the current until he sees a rock close to shore. The current slams him into it chest first, but he is only winded. He climbs out of the water and onto the rock, from which he jumps to the riverbank.

There is no towel or blanket. Were the air not so oppressively warm, they would freeze. They are several dozen yards downstream from their clothing. There is no easy trail, so they opt to follow the riverbank back to the pool. Jack admonishes Lynn for not heeding his warning about the current. They find their clothing. They are naked, cold, exhausted, and muddy, and Lynn is about to cry from Jack’s reprimand. Jack puts his arm around her and tells her that he is not angry and that he loves her. She smiles through her tears. Jack brings her into the shallower part of the pool, and they rinse the mud off of themselves. They lie on the blanket in each others’ arms. Shane finds them there when he sniffs out their trail. He defends himself by saying that the screams woke him. After apologizing repeatedly, he rushes back to the house. Lynn giggles. Jack’s ears are bright red. This makes her giggle more. She thinks that this is all very humorous. He smiles and kisses her. Something in the romantic gestures and alcohol makes her even more playful than she normally is, and she starts to kiss his body. It feels amazing to him. He starts to touch her. She gently pushes him onto the blanket. This action leaves him breathless. Everything that she does feels amazing to him.

Content as Jack would be to sleep under the stars, his wife requests to sleep in their own bed that night. He cannot help but agree to her request. She soon falls asleep in his arms. The window is open, and the night is hot. They wear nothing. Jack himself falls into a deep sleep without the aid of opium or alcohol for the first time since early October. Dawn comes sooner than Jack and Lynn wish, so they stay cozily curled up in bed. Jack smokes a morning cigar without leaving the room. He is home for a few weeks, and he intends to spend most of that time in his wife’s arms. Their rest is broken by their male wolfhound who comes in and starts sniffing. Lynn retreats under the covers. Jack attempts to herd him out of the room and ends up just putting on his leine and trousers and taking the dogs outside. Lynn makes breakfast for the dogs and everyone else, and Jack takes over tending the sheep from Shane. He lies on his back staring at the clouds in the July sky. There will be rain that night. Lynn comes out to be with him. Shane sits inside all day and rests curled up with a book, thankful for the respite from taking care of Jack‘s property. John is with Maire, and Jason is at boarding school, so Shane is free to sleep. He takes full advantage of the lack of dogs and people in the house to lay on the drawing room sofa with his legs draped over the end. He is nearly as tall as Jack but much more powerfully built. He reads the foreign newspaper but loses interest. When his sleep is interrupted in the middle of the night, he has no desire for other distractions to his napping the next day.

Jack and Lynn hope for a miracle. Lynn has wanted children for many years. She loves her stepsons, but they are not hers. She wants nothing more than she wants to have her own child. Jack and Lynn try very hard, but after Jack returns to Crosspoint, he receives a tear-stained letter from his wife telling him that she is not pregnant. He writes her back assuring her that it will happen one day. The fighting is sporadic. He spends a lot of time bored and wishing she were there. One day, he writes home asking Lynn to come and stay with him in Crosspoint and asking Shane to mind the house. That day is the day that he decides that the war has gone on long enough with no progress from either side, and that the second that peace talks are mentioned, he will jump at the chance. It has been nearly two years since his wedding to Lynn, which was the start of the war. He was denied a honeymoon by duty, so he will bring his wife to the battlefield. Lynn stays with him in the little cottage for the remainder of the summer. He will send her home if the fighting becomes too intense, but he would rather have her by his side.

The summer heat bears down on another battle. Jack commands his men forward from atop Spectre. He wears no armor. Perhaps he is foolish, but he likes to think of his actions as brave. Few men would enter a battle with no armor and flaming red hair that the enemy commanders instantly recognize, but Jack is not afraid to do so. As bad as the fighting is in the south, the fighting is worse further north. The Northern and Eastern Armies, wearing their red and white uniforms, respectively, are stationed many miles north of Crosspoint. Their base is in Stankirk. The Western and Southern Armies, bearing their respective colors of black and green, have been defending the southern part of the border for many months. Much to Julius’ chagrin, his Central Army have been filling guard posts along three borders. Julius became well-known early in the war for his bad temper and his lack of command skills. Var and Tem fight nobly. They were born to command, but, like Jack, they came from humble stock and saw their fortunes in the revolution. Julius would have made a bid to switch positions with Kerrigan’s Western Army, but he does not want to risk his own life fighting on the front lines when he can sit at home and administer guard duty, losing neither men nor sleep. Julius and Jack disagree with each other continually in the Senate and in discussions of tactics. Jack usually wins the arguments, and Julius usually ends up explaining grievous injuries to his wife. Serving on the front line next to Jack without someone there to keep the peace would be suicide.

On a mountai above the border, Var and Tem sit in the snow. It is summer, but they are high above the tree line in the snow-cap of one of the tallest mountains in the Vampire District. Tem’s white uniform is at odds with his black hair and olive skin. He is not, by far, as dark-skinned as Julius, but there is an unmistakable tone to his skin. His uniform blends with the snow as he lazily lifts his half-moon-shaped eyes to his companion. Traveling day and night seems natural to him. Staying in a mansion is less natural. He has Romany blood in him, and he is a restless spirit. He cannot help his nature. He gathers snow in his gloved hands and studies it. Var is like a blood stain on the snow next to him, standing proudly in his red dress uniform. His hair is golden blond, and his eyes are blue-gray. He is thinking of his Anya. She is waiting for him back in Highton or perhaps in their summer home in the north. Her eyes are as blue as the ocean in the distance, her skin as fair as the snow, and her hair as golden as the sun. The army, he thinks, is no place for a married man.

“What are you looking at?” asks Var.

“The sea,” Tem replies.

“What for?”

“No reason in particular. Have you ever been to Lake Nivasi?”

“I have not,” Var lights a cigarette. He cups his hand over the flame, lest it be seen, despite the fact that it is daylight, and he is on a snow-capped mountain in a bright red uniform. It is an old habit left over from the revolution.

“It is in my District in between the low hills. The people live on houseboats in the middle of the lake. The name is not accurate. There are no mermaids there, only fish, but it is some of the most beautiful scenery. If I had to settle down, I would choose to go there.”

“Why do you not settle near Bridgeton? You stay there for the Senate meetings, and you have the money and a mansion, else you would not be a Senator. Why not stay?”

“I have the wanderlust in my blood. I cannot stay anywhere too long. I was born a Roma, I died a Roma,” says Tem proudly.

“But you are not on earth any longer, why act like you are?” asks Var, not understanding his companion at all.

“If I mentioned Muscovy to you, what would you say?”

“That it was once my home.”

“Would you not go on about its virtues or its beauty?”

“I might do so after a couple glasses of vodka,” admits Var.

“I know you would. I have heard you do so,” says Tem, embarrassing Var. “Why do you think Jack is so intent on protecting the men of his homeland, though they are here just the same as we? Why do you think that Julius has a great patriotism for a homeland that is no more?”

“I suppose I do not know.”

“For the same reason I have no homeland and cannot settle. It is not Muscovy itself about which you are nostalgic, is it? Were Muscovy filled with Swedes, you would not love the place nearly so much.”

“I hate the Swedes. Taking over Muscovy, pillaging, sailing their damned dragon boats down the rivers causing havoc…” rambles Var.

“You do realize that your Czars were descended from Swedish Vikings, do you not?”

“Does it matter? They are not Muscovy. The people are Muscovy, as you yourself said.”

“I’m not getting anywhere with this, am I?” asks Tem, somewhat frustrated.

“No. So why are you looking at the sea?” asks Var, still not having received a sufficient answer.

“It reminds me of some of the most beautiful places to which I have traveled,” replies Tem, abandoning his attempt to explain himself to Var.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” asks Var, shaking his head.

Kerrigan Sheehan sits in the parlor of Shannon Shepherd and her daughter Siobhan. Siobhan is an adult, but she is unmarried, and she does not have much money, nor does her mother, so they stay together for security and company. The house is a small cottage in the mountains. Kerrigan has no enemies here. She is free to travel the countryside with her infant son while her husband attends to political business nearby. It is a vast change for Kerrigan, who, for a long time, has been the one normally away from home on political business. The land here is harsh, and the crops are few and very hardy. In front of the house is a garden, bifurcated by a little earthen path between two rail fences. The little cottage sits on the side of a mountain, and the terrain leading up to it is steep and rocky. From the front, the house looks like any other mountain dwelling, but from the back windows, the ocean is visible so far below.

The three women are sitting down to tea, Kerrigan’s son resting in the crook of her left arm. There is a knock on the door. Siobhan rises to answer it. Gobnait Mac Gabhann has come to call. When he sees Kerrigan, he tries to wipe the soot from his face. He is a blacksmith, and his shop is not far from the Shepherds’ house. He frequently stops by for tea. While Gobnait is with them, the women do not discuss Jack or the child. Gobnait does not know the truth, and Shannon knows that he would personally bribe Jack if he knew. She does not want to see her brother blackmailed, as he is the only Senatorial General in Crosspoint, and he is already in a dire enough state with his opium and alcohol addictions. She, unlike her lover, realizes that she must put aside her personal requests and agenda in order to save her brother’s life. Were Jack to die, Shane would become the head of the family, and, as soon as the period of mourning Jack were over, his first act would be to allow his sister to marry. It is no secret that Jack’s death would ultimately do a lot of good for the family, but she does not want to see him go so soon.

Though she is harsh in her judgments, she is truly fond of her older brother and wishes him no harm. Jack may be a fool at times, but he is still the older brother who taught her to swim, shoot a bow, and skin rabbits and deer. Being the only girl in the family and the middle child, she was expected to do a lot for no attention. Jack was the rogue and Shane the favorite son. The twins died very young, and Shannon became the youngest. All of a sudden, the attention shifted to her, but she missed the days when her little brothers would scream and fuss, and she could run freely with Shane, to whom she had always been close. Then Shane was bitten by a wolf. Jack spent every moment he could with her so as to take her mind off of illness and death, for she was still very young. Jack, nearly five years her senior, kept her safe while her parents went about the daily chores with the added burden of caring for Shane. The seven year old did much of the cooking and mending, as her mother feared to leave Shane’s side. There was much fear that if he did survive, he would lose his leg. He ultimately came through with a slight limp that still has.

Once Shane recovered, he went back into the woods with them. Jack left when she was only eleven, and she looked to Shane for guidance. By this point, her parents were aging, and her father died when she was fourteen. After that, Shane no longer took her into the woods. She was a young lady and had to care for things around the house, while he was supporting a widowed mother and a sister barely of marriageable age. Their mother died within the year. Shane knew all of the local bachelors, being one himself, and he feared to marry his sister to the wrong man. He knew that bringing a wife of his own into the house with his young sister around would not be good, so he eventually found her a suitable husband, a farmer by the name of Ciran, but he soon fell ill and died childless. She never remarried. Of the five of them, only Shane and Jack had children in life. Jack had two children by his third wife, but he did not see them grow, as he died when they were very young. Shane’s children were numerous and delightful.

Gobnait is a busy man, as he is the only blacksmith for many miles, so he returns to his nearby shop, and the conversation turns from gay parlor talk to more serious matters immediately following his departure. Kerrigan’s son was born with brilliant copper hair like his actual father. Being the first married of old wives, she used an old wives spell to turn his hair black. It will soon fade, as she is no witch, but Shannon Shepherd is, and she can make it permanent. Shannon Shepherd is poor. Kerrigan pays a small fortune for Shannon to cover the child’s red hair permanently. Shannon insists that it is not necessary, but Kerrigan is persistent. She never offered Jack money, but she knows that Shannon will not squander it the way Jack would have when he needed money.

“Me brother, how ill is he?”

“I fear he is direly ill, Miss Shepherd.”

“Will he…?”

“I cannot say for certain. You are the diviner, not I.”

“I fear to look into it.”

“As do we all. We can but hope that he survives, as bleak as things may seem. Jack is resilient. He can survive nearly anything.”

“I, for one, don’ fancy his chances without ye or someone else to look after him.”

“He is an intelligent man, no matter how foolish he acts at times. He can look after himself, at least for a time.”

“An’ yourself? How long will ye be away?”

“Honestly, I cannot see myself staying home much longer.”

“Could I hold the baby for a while?”

“Of course you may.”

Kerrigan hands Marcuriel to Shannon, who remarks, “He’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. I think the dark hair suits him, at least, makes your brother seem innocent.”

“Jack? Innocent? He wasn’t even innocent when he was a child and usually sober. If he was, he would not be me brother, but I love him anyhow.”

“Why will you not come down? Lynn has been eager to see you again, and it is nearly Lughnasadh.”

“I must harvest my crops.”

“I can do it, ma’,” interrupts Siobhan. “Ye know da’ always helps, an’, sure, our farm is jus’ small. Think how hard it must be for her, married to uncle Jack, but he’s never home, an’ she’s constantly havin’ t’worry he’ll ne’er be home again for bein’ shot or drinkin’ hisself t’death.”

“Fine. I will come south in time to meet Lynn for Lughnasadh, but I will not stay more than a few days. I suppose Jack will not be there,” says Shannon.

“I am inclined to believe that he will not, though stranger things have happened,” replies Kerrigan.

“Perhaps. He is more stubborn than I can fathom. Could ye convince him to let me marry? I don’ mean to be selfish, but ‘tis long past time Siobhan start lookin’ for a suitor, an’ nobody’ll court an illegitimate daughter wi’ no dowry to offer, mind, I love me daughter, but she ought to find a man.”

“I have planted the idea in his head. I have made him consider it. He will eventually bend to my will. Be patient, for Jack is a hard man to break, and if I were to break his will, it would devastate him. Instead, I am working to bend his will in your favor. Besides, Lynn wants children of her own badly, so eventually he will have to ask you to help her be able to conceive, and when he asks for that, you can hold the idea of your marriage over his head as the price.”

“How d’ye know this will happen?”

“He loves her dearly. She has long wanted children, and she has never been able to have any. Your brother has two beautiful sons. She will eventually realizee that you can help, but do not tell her this yourself. You must not lose Jack’s trust by planting the idea too soon.”

“How d’ye know all this?”

“I have my ways.” Marcuriel begins to fuss in the strange woman’s arms, so Shannon hands him back to his mother. “May I feed him here?”

“By all means, go ahead. We’re both women. ‘Tisn’t as if we’ve ne’er seen a breast before.” The infant latches himself to his mother’s breast, and the women continue their conversation. “As I was saying, even if it can’t be known, Marcuriel is still me nephew, an’ I don’t want to see him hurt. I can see the toll of your past in your eyes.”

“I know you can. I can see your brothers’ pasts in their eyes. I can see your past very clearly. You hide nothing.”

“I’ve nothin’ to hide.”

“Thank you very much for the help.”

“Ah, ‘tis no problem. Does Jack know?”

“I told him as soon as I thought of coming here. I had best be back to the inn before my husband realizes I am gone.”

“I’ll see ye again soon. Tell Lynn I said hello an’ I’ll be down for Lughnasadh.”

“I shall tell her that.”

Kerrigan nestles Marcuriel in the basket among the blankets and sets off along the dirt path down the hillside and into town where she and Morietur have a room in the local inn. It is not much, but it is something. When she returns, she is relieved to know that Morietur is not yet returned from his business two towns away. This was the nearest inn, and it enjoys a good reputation. It is called The Rolling Tide Inn. The sign over the door creaks in the late summer breeze, and the first apples of the season are beginning to ripen. Morietur returns about half an hour later, as the inn prepares dinner. He hates warm weather, and the late July heat is bothering him. His wife lays Marcuriel, still in the basket, on the bed in their room in the inn and focuses her attention on her husband. A failure to do so would result in dire consequences for her. She bustles around attending to her husband and hoping the child will not cry. Once Morietur is settled, she feeds the baby and sings him to sleep. She leaves him asleep in the basket in the center of the bed while she goes downstairs to dine with her husband. The inn is currently crowded due to its proximity to the shore. For Kerrigan, this is bad news, since she just wanted to be left alone on her short vacation. Morietur says that they are leaving first thing in the morning, so Kerrigan begins to pack their things when they return to their room. The daylight lasts long into the evening hours, and Morietur turns to his wife, hopeful for one more peaceful night.

“Is the fire red sunset not romantic?” Morietur asks.

“It is more a prediction that tomorrow will have fair weather,” replies Kerrigan.

“Wouldst thou like to go to the beach tonight?”

“I must look after the baby.”

“Miltaedovinatulinia, please wilt thou come with me. The child wilt sleep. Thou canst leave him with the innkeeper.”

“I suppose it would do no harm, since he is asleep, but we must not be gone long.”

“We shalt not be.”

Morietur puts leads her out of the inn and down a narrow path through the trees and onto the beach. The warm summer sunset makes Kerrigan’s pale skin glow a fiery red, and Morietur, whose hair is the same color as the sunset, glances on his wife with a lustful eye. She doffed her simple dress before dinner and donned an embroidered, low-cut, corseted, bustled gown in crimson and gold. The color is rather powerful for her pale face and in daylight, but in the ruby light of sunset, she looks like a jewel, glittering like the carnelian sparkles on the waves, which crash and pound the shore with so much beautiful destruction. Morietur reaches into the pocket of his robe, damasked in carmine and claret, and removes a delicate tiara, necklace, ring, earrings, and bracelet, all of which are set with diamonds and rubies. He slips the tiny ring with the large gem onto his wife’s left pinkie, puts the cascading earrings into her ears, fixes the sparkling bracelet on her wrist and the opulent necklace around her neck, and sets the delicate tiara on her head. She rarely wears this set of jewelry, though several paintings exist that portray her wearing it. They were a gift from her father on her wedding day, given to her unexpectedly before the ceremony for her to wear.

“Thou art as beautiful as the day I married thee.”

“You exaggerate.”

“I doth not. I hath been thinking, dear wife. It hath been many years since we were truly in love. I regret much that I hath done. I regret that I doth hurt the so. I love thee.”