“How long has it been since we last met? Half a year?” she said, walking to the dark room.


    While not a decorated space, it had a comfort to it, the wooden seats with some padding and the simple bed a mattress; no fireplace, but a thick, woollen blanket, as well as a puffy duvet. Things made of simple materials with no embellishment, yet competent for their intended purposes. There was even a bookshelf with certain classics, to be read by the gentle light of an oil lamp which was carefully locked inside a crevice, the mechanism which lit and extinguished the light all that was exposed to the occupant.


    A prison, but one much kinder than a dungeon.


    The man sat at the room’s desk, staring at the wall, no movement coming from him at either her entrance or her words. However, she had no need of his answers quite yet. It was enough that she knew he would listen.


    The door closed behind her, leaving but three in the room. “Lord Isarau—or rather, Lord Bavaria,” she said, curtseying. “My condolences for your father and grandfather.”


    “Lady Augstadt,” he said, his voice like a whisper.


    She turned to her guard and bade him wait by the door, then she stepped closer to her guest. “My Lord remembers Sir Lugwig, no?” she asked.


    Isarau turned his head at that, just enough to meet the gaze of the man by the door. Turning back to the wall, he let out a snort, his hand coming up to rub his face.


    “Your wife and children are well,” she said.


    His hand clenched.


    “I must say, your son is most adorable, and I hope you do not mind, but your daughter called me Aunty and I hadn’t the heart to stop her,” she said, her tone so light, bubbling with hints of laughter.


    “How is my wife?” he asked, quiet lest he scream the words in anger.


    She tilted her head. “That is, if My Lord is concerned she is anxious, there is no need. I am sure your wife is cautious and educated in these matters, but it is the simple truth that I wish no ill on her, your children, or even yourself. What reason has she to worry? Well, other than for your safety with the war.”


    He let out a bark of laughter. “No ill wishes, she says to her prisoner,” he said.


    Her footsteps sounded out, coming to the window. A beautiful landscape lay beyond the panes of glass. There were no metal bars, nothing to interrupt a dedicated person in their escape. After all, the best kind of prisoner, she knew, was one that had reason to be captured.


    “Is the matter between us not clear?” she asked.


    Never mind his hands, his every muscle clenched, all he could do to keep his voice neutral. “It is very much not clear.”


    “Oh, my apologies. Allow me to elucidate my guest, then,” she said, her wandering footsteps taking her to the bookshelf. Although she had chosen such books as she thought he would like, it appeared he hadn’t even looked this way.


    She could understand given the circumstances.


    “The Duke of Bohemia moved his forces against your father’s without a declaration of war and, in the chaos which ensued over the following fortnight, your father was slain by an act of treachery. While you tried to gather the scattered forces, you received word that your family had taken refuge in my land.”


    She spoke the words without any emotion—as if reading a dull book for a lesson.


    “At this time, the Duke is at a stalemate,” she said. “You are not a man without talent. As he predicted, you managed to garrison the fortress by the River Ilz, which effectively stops his push into the south. Without at least threatening the Bavarian capital of Isarau, he cannot force through a peace. Winter is fast approaching and a drawn out war is not in his interest, especially as it would give you time to try and sway your father’s allies or bring in allies of your own, so he needed a manner in which to… counter you.”


    He let out a strained breath. “Which is where My Lady comes into the picture.”


    Her footsteps wandered, going to the oil lamp. She thought of lighting it before deciding there was no need. “In a loose sense, the Duke proposed that, in exchange for you, I would be entitled to a sizeable area of land.”


    “You would take him at his word?” he asked, mouth pulled into a smile only the wall saw.


    “I have known him most of my life, his daughter of the circle I took part in during my years at the capital,” she said, her footsteps again sounding out, this time ending loosely in the centre of the room. “Which is to say, I do not. I believe he will have me seized after handing you over, that he would have me married to his nephew and, if particularly brazen, he may even contest Prince Hector’s ownership over the Duchy of Swabia. Regardless, with such control over the south, I believe his intention is to elevate himself above even that of dukedom. Of course, one may ask which possible rank there is between king and duke, but such matters are nothing in the face of power.”


    Silence followed, distant murmurs and a whistling wind.


    Until finally he broke it. “What is My Lady’s intention, then? To extort land out of me in exchange for my freedom and the safety of my family?” he asked, the edge to his voice at last blunted.


    “Of course not,” she said lightly. “I am a woman of honour.”


    He gave no comment on that.


    “As I see it, I shall parade My Lord as my prisoner all the way to the siege of the Ilz fortress, at which point I shall hand you over to Duke Bohemia and you shall murder him. In the ensuing chaos, his troops may be routed and harried all the way back home. Following that, well, My Lord may proceed how he so chooses, my role in this war completed,” she said, speaking as if of the weather.


    His smile curled. “You would have me murder him?” he asked.


    “You say that as if I am forcing you. Is it not your duty as son to avenge your father?” she asked, tilting her head. “Regardless, I have no need of you to do it yourself. It is just that, if the matter is left in my hands, then I would have to prune the tree, as it were, that I am not foolish enough to leave any to take vengeance on me.”


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    “You sought out the sons of all those mercenaries, then?” he asked.


    She laughed, a tittering laugh hidden behind her hand. “If I am to be undone by the son of a mercenary, then so be it, God not on my side.”


    He breathed in a deep breath and forced it out his nose, eyes clenched shut as he pressed against his temples. “Has this all been part of your schemes? Plans within plans, lies atop lies,” he said.


    “After your grandfather helped me with the last matter,” she said, her tone gentle, “we spoke of some things. One is that he said my mother detested him and even swore to ruin everything he held dear.”


    “Is that what all this is to you?” he asked.


    “As thanks, I told him how I thought my mother would do it,” she said, ignoring him.


    He let out a sigh, giving in. “How would she?”


    “I told him that she would do nothing, for she would soon after then give birth to me and, if the worst hadn’t happened, she would have been far too busy raising me and any siblings I may have had,” she said, a whisper, yet one that reached every corner of the room. “My mother and father had a deep love and losing her broke him. Still, I feel overwhelmed by his love to this day, a man who only held aspirations to protect and cherish his family.”


    Her tender words hung in the air a moment, then she brushed them away.


    “I have nothing to protect nor cherish. However, I am my father’s daughter who grew up with my mother’s echo. There are things I can do and things I cannot. Rather than have the Duke menace at my borders, I would have you. If you think that I am at all responsible for your father’s death, I ask that you consider if the Duke would truly put such trust in me and me alone. Despise me if you will; however, I have no obligations to you or your people, that I must act as I see fit. That you are here now is due to your own shortcomings. Yet, that you are here now, we may cooperate.”


    At last, he stood up and turned to her. His face looked much different from when she had last seen him. “Do you not fear my vengeance?” he whispered.


    “What harm have I done to My Lord?” she asked, smile oh so sweet.


    His hands clenched. “Indeed, what harm?”


    She met his gaze without shame. “In the end, whether or not you agree, I shall be bringing you to meet the Duke and, at that time, you shall have the chance to sally your troops in the confusion of the Duke’s death. I am quite certain you understand that this engagement is to your advantage; to deny the chance to spite me… is My Lord so petty?”


    “You are despicable.”


    “Please, My Lord, you have a wife,” she said, covering her mouth as she gently laughed, then added, “and two children.”


    His lips did not move while his gaze said everything.


    “Of course, if the worst were to happen to My Lord, I would ensure your family are not left wanting. Why, I would even take a personal interest in your son’s education, that he may grow up to avenge his father.”


    Never before had he wanted to raise his hand to a woman, realising now despicable had been too kind a word. “Is that supposed to be a reassurance?” he asked, at this point genuinely unsure where her morality lay.


    “No, it is a threat to live, that I do hope My Lord is successful in his upcoming battle, and that he may return in time to support his wife through the birth of their next child.”


    Broken, he whispered, “Do not make light of such matters.”


    She turned around. “Your grandfather may have taught you to think in terms of what gains and losses each situation brings, that cunning people are rational and have selfish goals which they seek; however, I assure you that such an approach will fail when it comes to me.”


    “Because you are not cunning?” he said, making no attempt to hide how he mocked her.


    “No, because you cannot fathom my goals nor determine which methods I dare to consider in pursuit of such goals,” she said.


    Again, he joked, saying, “There are any methods you would not consider?”


    “There are methods I would consider that My Lord cannot even begin to consider,” she replied.


    What humour he had found left as suddenly as it had come, gaining no ground in mocking her. “Then I am to simply trust you have my best intentions in mind?”


    “We both know that any promise I could give you will not be believed. Rather, you must believe that I find more worth in you alive than dead, as an ally than as an enemy. As long as you are alive, then you will eventually have the opportunity to take such suitable revenge against me as you see fit.”


    “I thought you did not leave those who would seek vengeance against you.”


    She smiled, that he could only hear it in her answer: “Indeed.”


    With that single word hanging in the air, she walked to the door, Ludwig opening it for her. After the knight followed her out, though, it did not close.


    “Well? Does my guest not wish to see his family?” she said.


    Isarau was at the door before he even understood what she had said, legs moving quicker than his mind. One step outside and he found a frock coat being offered to him.


    “While one may be a soldier outside, he is a gentleman inside,” she said lightly. “I hope My Lord does not mind that it belonged to my father.”


    Glancing around, he saw that their company was no longer limited to three, even maids at the ready. “Of course not,” he said, his voice sounding empty compared to even his usual tone.


    A few other adjustments were made on their travel through the manor. He looked clean and neat upon arriving at a door, beyond which he heard such familiar sounds that made his heart ache.


    She knocked, a moment later a voice painfully familiar to him calling out, “Yes?”


    “Dorothy, dear, it is I,” she said.


    “Oh Julia, do come in! Where are my manners?”


    So she opened the door and stepped inside, and he heard his daughter’s voice excitedly say, “Aunty!”


    The door staying open, he took in a deep breath and followed her inside. It was a nice room, as nice as their bedroom back home, not quite as large, and it had a pair of cots in it. Just like their bedroom back home, there was a collection of stuffed animals strewn about the place, a few dolls around, and even a rocking horse.


    Then there was his wife. What he hadn’t seen weeks ago when they had parted became so very clear now—where her hand rested as she sat, how gingerly she stood up to greet Julia.


    His daughter saw him first, shouting, “Papapa!” as she toddled over.


    He knelt down on one knee, greeting her with a hug. Standing up, he brought her with, then twirled back and forth, her giggles the sweetest nectar. “My sweet little angel, how are you?” he whispered, blinking away the tears.


    “I am most good,” she said.


    “Oh that is good,” he said, squeezing her tight—but not too tight, so very afraid of hurting her.


    While that had gone on, his son had crawled over, so he now bent down again to scoop his son up, holding them both close. Turning to his wife, he saw her with such joy in her eyes. How beautiful it was, he had found, that loving his children could make his wife so happy. God was good.


    She greeted him with a kiss—Julia politely turning away—then she stroked his hand that still held their children. “Albert, how are things?”


    “Let us not speak of such matters so soon,” he said, his voice giving away nothing.


    She looked him in the eye, then gently nodded.


    Before either could say anything else, Julia said, “Do excuse me. I shall leave our matters until after husband and wife have suitably reunited,” she said, humour in her voice.


    “Oh Julia, you are incorrigible,” Dorothy said, smiling so broadly.


    Before leaving, Julia met his gaze one last time, saying nothing more. The matter between them was clear, after all. Once the door closed, he lowered himself to the floor, leaving his children to climb over him as they saw fit.


    He had so much to ask, yet his wife spoke first, coming to his side and picking up his hand, placing it a little below her stomach. “I think it will be another son,” she whispered, voice so full of joy.


    His gaze drifted over, noticing a wooden sword sticking out a box of toys by the cots. “A daughter is fine too. That everyone is healthy is all I shall ever wish for,” he said.


    “Well, after what happened to Julia’s mother, her father devoted such resources to the matter that she says the midwives here are the best in the country. I am thinking that, even after your matter is tidied up, I should stay here—at least until the birth,” she said.


    “Dotty, I—”


    “I know, I know, you have suspicions of her. However, little Otto loves her—how can a child love someone with an evil heart?”


    He hadn’t the heart to say his son had loved his father and grandfather too.