Death After Death

Chapter 192: A Reunion of Sorts

“I told the sailors not to untie you lest you...Oh,” she exclaimed in surprise as she turned around and saw him, but even that was muted as she quickly buried it beneath the expression she used for formal occasions and at court. “What’s all this then? If you could have healed yourself at any moment, why not do so after the battle?”

The way she reacted to his miraculous reappearance was not what he’d hoped for. Even anger would have been better than the weariness she greeted him with. He was disappointed that she wasn’t surprised by his reappearance, but he was a little pleased at the astonishment he saw flicker across her face as she took in his current appearance. That, at least, was something.@@@@

“It’s not as simple as all that,” he explained, resisting the urge to move to her. Her body language was very clearly telling him to stay the hell away. “I... a lot has happened since I last saw you. An awful lot.”

“It’s been less than eight hours since you shared my bed,” she remarked, smiling sadly as she approached him, and sat on the corner of the bed farthest from him. “How much could have happened in one night?”

“Well, you turned my whole world upside down last night,” Simon reminded her. “When you bundled me off on that ship, I was distraught.”

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I won’t defend or explain my actions, though. You know exactly why—”

“I do. I’m not asking you to. I’m just explaining things,” he interrupted. “We’ve always been honest with each other, haven't we?”

“We have,” she agreed, “relaxing slightly.”

“What has been 8 hours for you was nearly fifty years for me,” he said, forcing the words out of his mouth, even though part of him suspected that saying them was a terrible mistake. “I’ve lived whole lifetimes, and I’ve spent all that time missing you.”

Simon didn’t explain every last detail. He didn’t tell her how a vampire had killed him or that he’d bitten off his tongue in an insane pact with a crazy cult to unlock more secrets of the universe. Instead, he told her the broad strokes. He told her how he’d died and started over, spent some time studying in some strange places. When he reached his discussion of the Oracle, that piqued her interest.

“I’ve never been,” she confessed, “But I always wanted to. Please, tell me everything you saw.”

It was a tangent from what he wanted to talk about, but it was also the first time she looked at him with wonder instead of dread, so he decided it was a worthwhile one.

He told her about his whole trip, starting at the base of the mountain. He told her about his battles with the beastmen and the strange harpy skeleton he found. He even mentioned how he almost gave up because of the endless clouds before he finally found the tiny utopia. That he described in intimate detail, and between his description of his time with the oracle and her prophecies and the queen’s questions, the two of them were still sitting there when one of the queen’s handmaids arrived and asked where she wanted to have her midday meal.

The woman expressed surprise that Simon was there, as well. “I was told he wouldn’t be—” she started to say, but the queen waved her off.

“It's fine,” Elthena answered. “You may bring lunch here for both of us.”

The maid nodded and left, but even that small interruption disrupted the rapport that they’d been rebuilding.

“What you say is fantastical, of course, but I’m still inclined to believe you,” she said, suddenly cold again. “But you have to realize this changes nothing, don’t you?”

“It changes everything!” he insisted, but she only shook her head sadly at that.

“The prophecy—” she started to answer, but Simon cut her off before she could even get the word out.

“Damn the prophecy!” he raged, making her pull away a bit. “Your nation has a damn Oracle. Why not simply go to her and ask her what you should do. She’ll tell you there’s no such thing.”

“It’s not as simple as you make it out to be,” Elthena sighed.

“Look, I know it's a long way, but I told you about the Hidden Way,” Simon countered, “If I went with you, we could be there and back in less than a week. I’m sure of it.”

He spent the next few weeks working on various projects. He helped Niko with a few more complicated jobs but mostly just worked more on his rune blade ideas and his art.

Simon’s experiments with changing his appearance had been promising, and he decided he could probably change himself into a very convincing stranger or even replace someone who already existed with a little familiarity and careful observation. In fact, he realized I could probably replace one of the men of her court, even her trusted Vizier, and stay as long as I wanted.

That was something he’d never do, of course. It was creepy as hell, but the idea that such an impossible thing was even an option intrigued him. “I’ve been a scholar and an artisan already,” he mused to himself, “Why not a deep-cover spy.” The truth was that he wasn’t interested in making other plans. He’d put a lot of work into getting back to this moment with Elthena, and he wasn’t leaving until they’d worked things out.

It was just shy of a month before she returned. When she appeared in the village herself, near the head of a parade of soldiers, Simon was not expecting that. Trumpets and bells were the first sign that anything was amiss, and even before she got close, everyone, including Simon, who was filthy and stained with soot, was kneeling.

“You really do know the queen!” Niko hissed excitedly.

Simon smiled to himself but said nothing. He could tell, as soon as he looked at her, that this wasn’t the good news he’d been hoping for. It wasn’t just that she looked a little frailer and a little more pregnant after the trip, either. It was that whatever she’d been told had obviously increased the distance between them, not reduced it.

At first, the queen did not speak to him. Instead, she spoke with the Town Father and the Wisewoman. It was only when she’d complimented everyone for their hard work and prayed publicly to the gods on their behalf that she summoned Simon.

He’d cleaned up a little in that time, so he was somewhat presentable when he met her on the beach beneath an awning where she was holding court. When he arrived, she dismissed her guards and spoke with him alone, though she did so from her chair as an obvious reminder of who was in charge.

“The Oracle’s mountain was every bit as beautiful as you said it was,” she said. “Thank you for convincing me to go.”

“And what did she say?” Simon asked.

“That all prophecies were, in their way, self-fulfilling,” she sighed.

“I’m not sure what that means,” Simon answered.

“I’m not sure I do either,” she agreed. “But what matters is this. We are done. A romance is not like a hearthfire, to be relit whenever you feel cold. Flames are not interchangeable, and neither are Simons.”

He nodded. Unwilling to trust his voice at the answer he knew was coming.

“But,” she said just as he started to look down at his feet. “It would be wrong to deny you access to your own child. I learned that from the Oracle, too.”

“I see,” Simon answered cautiously. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you are not to return to the palace until the son I will bear you is eight years old,” she said. “Somewhere around that time, I will choose a tutor to help my child grow into the King that Ionia needs. If you wish to be a father to him, that will be your chance, even if he will never know it.”

Simon’s mind flashed to his experiences with Niko as she said that, and he nodded.

“You will need a new face and a new name to go with it,” she continued. “My visions seemed to imply that this wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“I’ve been going by Ennis here, actually. Long story,” Simon answered without hesitation, as he chose to put a slightly more Ionian spin on his previous nom de guerre.

“Very well, then,” she nodded, “I will expect you then. Do not disappoint me.”