8Author's Note: When I finished writing "Twist and Twine" (a compilation of tales that take place after TPoB), I realized that I didn't include a new adventure for Rhys and Addie. Consider this the "lost" tale. I recommend reading "Twist and Twine" first, but it's not necessary. Enjoy!
My mind was fried from hours of studying. I needed a break before I went crazy. I turned to see if Eliza was awake so I could play with her. Unfortunately, she was still asleep. I faced ahead and sighed. Unlike human parents, I liked when my infants awakened at night. It gave me a nice break from studying. I looked at my desk to find something to do. I noticed my journal under a pile of papers. I remembered seeing "The Pevir Tale" after reading "The Great Monster War" to Daria and decided to read it before resuming my studies. Flipping through my journal, I found "The Pevir Tale" and began to read.
. . .
After rallying the children for breakfast, I noticed that Addie hadn't come down to eat yet. She'd seemed fine when I spoke to her before waking our children. She even told me that she'd be down soon. I began to worry—she could have twisted her ankle and needed my help! Or perhaps she had morning sickness. I hoped so! I went upstairs to check on her.
I opened her door and saw her sitting at her window seat, staring at her private garden, still dressed in her beautifully embroidered white nightdress. I sat down beside her. "Precious, your breakfast is waiting," I said gently.
Addie sat there like a statue, gazing at something in the garden. "I'm not hungry," she murmured lifelessly.
Why was she upset this early in the day? "Dearest, what's wrong? It's not like you to skip breakfast." Addie believed in nourishing her body as soon as she awakened. I stroked her arm with my knuckles. "Tell me so I can help."
"You already do what you can," she mumbled, sinking her chin into the crook of her arm.
I wrapped my arm around her. "Please tell me," I begged. I desperately wanted to know what distressed her so I could help.
Addie hesitated. "I don't want to sound petty."
"I'm your husband. You can tell me anything and I won't judge you for it." She should know that by now.
Addie sighed. "Gretchen had her baby," she whispered, almost too softly to hear. Gretchen was one of her ladies-in-waiting. "It's not what you think—" she started in a rush "—I'm happy for Gretchen. She'll make a wonderful mother, but…"
The miscarriage she had had a year ago still troubled her. "I know it hurts, Addie. But we'll keep trying until it happens."
She looked up at me despairingly. "We've been trying for a year now," she murmured. "I don't understand why all of a sudden I'm having difficulties conceiving. We never had problems in the past, so why can't I get pregnant?"
R.J. was, of course, not planned, as we had him nine months into our marriage. We believed he was conceived on our wedding night or sometime during our stay on Mount Ziriat, and Meryl was proof that Addie could get pregnant again shortly after giving birth. Rosie was the result of me wanting a third, and Daria was the product of Addie wanting to re-experience the infant stage again. Four years later, Addie begged me to have "one more," but then she got more than what she bargained for with the twins. Addie promised that the one we were trying for would be our last one. Though, I had a feeling Addie would want an eighth child. Addie loved babies, but if she had to care for our infants at night and financially provide for them on her own, she'd probably change her mind about having more.
Losing our unborn child during the Great Monster War devastated her so much she wanted to try again, but fate had not been kind to us. She unfairly blamed herself each month she had a cycle.
"Have you talked to Milton?" I asked.
"I talked to him about it six months ago," she replied glumly.
"What did he say?"
"He thinks I should see Queen Seema, but I don't have time to leave over personal matters."
The councilors acted as though Bamarre would fall apart if its queen took a leave of absence for a week. I felt as though the councilors took advantage of her inexperience. When Lionel decided to see Queen Seema, he went. Whether or not they protested, I did not know, but manipulating an inexperienced queen was easier than manipulating a seasoned, middle-aged king. I'd broached the topic before, but she ignored me.
I felt there could be another solution. I knew just the thing! "Wife," I said, taking her hand into both of mine. I stroked her hand lovingly. "Sometimes infertility can be the man's fault. It's not fair to automatically assume it's you. Bear in mind that sorcerers don't normally reproduce, so it could very easily be me."
Addie leaned her head on my shoulder. "You're right," she agreed. I could detect relief in her tone.
I rested my head over hers. "I'll talk to Milton," I said.
Softly, she thanked me.
I got up and tugged her hand. "Come on, my sweet. Breakfast is waiting."
Addie shook her head. "I don't feel like coming down or socializing with lots of people at the moment."
I didn't like how she willingly neglected her body's needs just because she didn't want to socialize. Wanting her to nourish her body, I scooped her into my arms and headed for her bed.
"Rhys, what are you doing?" she asked, laughing.
"Taking care of my distressed wife," I replied, smiling proudly. I placed her on the bed and instructed her to slide under the covers.
Still amused, Addie complied. "I'm not sick, you know."
I ignored her and drifted out the door. "I'll be right back."
I fetched a bed tray and loaded it with food from the banquet hall—her favorite foods, of course. I knew exactly how she liked her plate to be assembled and how much of each entrée she liked. Most servants did not. Bella possibly did, as she had known Addie her entire life, but I paid attention to minor details that told me more about a person. By paying attention to minor details, I knew the perfect gifts to give them. Nothing was a throwaway detail to me.
I told our children that Addie was unwell and needed to recover in her bedchamber. They were concerned for their mother, which pleased me (though, in Meryl's case it was because it concerned her favorite person). Depending on who they eventually married, any one of them could become rulers of a kingdom or overseers of a region, so it was imperative that they knew how to love. Selfishness repulsed me so much that, whenever I saw it in my own children, I'd stop the behavior immediately.
Selfishness was the path to evil. Evil-doers never sacrificed their own happiness for others. Queen Myra and Queen Astrid were selfish. Everything they did was for their own personal gain, and eventually others suffered at their hands. Astrid and Myra made their kingdoms strong to prove their strength to the world, not because either one loved her people. I saw the same selfishness growing inside Meryl, especially after she murdered Kih.
I magically opened Addie's door and drifted inside.
Addie smiled broadly when she saw the tray. Twisting around, she stacked pillows at the head of the bed and leaned back.
I opened the tray's legs and placed it over her lap. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
She shook her head, still excited I brought her breakfast in bed.
I swept her a deep bow. "Then I shall leave my fair lady to her breakfast," I said chivalrously.
Addie reached out to me. "Wait," she called. "Please stay." She patted the open side of her large bed. "Lie down and talk with me, my prince."
Unlacing my boots, I happily obliged.
Addie stared at her food.
"Is there something wrong?" I asked, dreading that I had made a mistake in assembling her plate.
She shook her head.
I glanced at her stomach. Please let it be morning sickness! "Are you sure you're not pregnant?"
"Yes, I'm sure. It's just..." She hesitated, then met eyes with me. "Everything is so perfectly assembled. I'm speechless."
Why? I merely fixed her a plate. Maybe I was undermining my gesture of affection. Regardless, she needed to eat. I scooped up some food and guided it to her mouth.
Addie laughed from embarrassment as she stared at the spoon in front of her mouth. "Rhys, I can feed myself."
I waited for her to open her mouth. "Come on, open up," I urged.
Laughing, she eventually relented.
I guided the spoon into her mouth. Her cheeks flushed from smiling and laughing. I removed the spoon and scooped more food.
"Rhys," she said, still laughing as the spoon approached her mouth again.
Some of the food fell on Addie's chest. "See, this is why feeding me is a bad idea. You'll get food all over me," she grumbled, wiping the spill with a napkin. She took the spoon from me and ate the rest of her meal.
When she was done, I removed the tray and slid under the covers.
She slumped on the pillows and frowned. "I don't want to be Queen Adelina of Bamarre today," she whimpered. "I haven't had a proper break in a year. It's driving me crazy! I need to get away from all my queenly duties—just for a day. Is that too much to ask for?" She looked at the ceiling, as if some cosmic force would give her the answer she longed to hear. "For once, can't I just be Addie, simply Addie, not Adelina the Eradicator or Her Majesty the Queen? I want to escape to a faraway land, where I can be free of duties of any kind, whether they're queenly duties, motherly duties, or military duties. Haven't I earned it?"
She had, of course, but leaving the castle wouldn't work. Everyone knew what Addie looked like; she'd be caught in an instant. "You'd have to go miles before not being recognized," I said.
Her eyes lit up; she had an idea. "Then I'll go miles away," she declared.
"That's a terrible idea and you know it." Sadly, that was the only way she'd get the break she deserved. Besides, I needed a break too. I may not have had as many responsibilities as she did, but I was still stuck with our children all day long. There was more to us than just parenthood.
"But that'd give us a chance to be alone, uninterrupted," she countered slyly. Addie shifted to my side and swung her leg over my hips, straddling me. "Just think," she breathed, "it'll be like our honeymoon." My wife rested her left elbow against the pillow, near my ear, face so close I could feel her breath.
In the beginning of our marriage, that tactic had worked, but six kids later, I became immune. I played along by sliding my hands up her thighs, stopping at her waist.
As she kissed me, I fixed my foot against the mattress and abruptly rolled over on my side, flinging her off me. I sprang off of the bed before she had the chance to try some other tactic.
Addie quickly regained her bearings and crawled to the edge of the bed, grabbing my hand. "Husband, please," she begged pitifully.
I protested again, trying to pull away from her grasp.
"Prince Rhys, I command you to listen to me."
She didn't say comply, she just said listen. I stopped and looked at her.
"We're going to Pevir before the sun rises tomorrow. That's an order."
I knew that tone, and I knew I couldn't argue. Ever since she became queen, her stress made her demanding and sometimes a sourpuss. My once easygoing wife now lacked compromising skills.
Addie released my hand, waiting for my response. The air of authority was all over her. I knew better than to challenge her orders.
I swept her a deep bow and said, "As you wish, my queen."