In Which Holladrin Demands an Explanation

December 29, 1161

"Holladrin!" exclaimed young Jeda as she ran toward Holladrin, eagerly embracing her. "Are you here to take me and Sparron for a ride?"

"I suppose I could," Holladrin told her; in truth, she had been meaning to visit with Octavius, but she could not turn down the girl's request. And really, who would? The poor, sweet child and her brother had been forced to grow up without a mother; it didn't seem right to deny them such a simple pleasure as a ride in the countryside. Besides, she found their company quite agreeable--Octavius was a very lucky man to have two such fine children, despite his misfortunes in all other areas of his life.

The little girl beamed up at her, her hazel eyes wide. "Right now?"

"If you feel like it," obliged Holladrin.

Jeda smiled sweetly for a few seconds, but her excited expression was suddenly overcome by one of timidity. "But we have to go through the main gate, all right? That way is the furthest from the dungeons."

Holladrin raised an eyebrow. Jeda had never mentioned a concern such as this before; why did she want to avoid going anywhere near the dungeons? It wasn't as if they would actually go through the dungeons, wasn't it? What was she worried about?

"All right..."

"Good," sighed Jeda in relief.

Though normally not one to pry, Holladrin was beginning to worry somewhat--though Jeda was a rather shy girl, this sort of anxious behavior was quite uncharacteristic of her. "Why do you want to avoid the dungeons, Jeda?"

"Oh, there's a scary lady in there who likes to bang on walls sometimes," the girl explained in a fearfully reverent whisper--Holladrin found herself acutely alarmed as she realized it was Medea. "Me and Raia saw her once, but Florian told us not to tell. We weren't supposed to be down there. She's in the dungeon nearest the courtyard, the really gross one with all the bones and... things," she finished with a shudder.

"Bones and things?" repeated Holladrin. "Your father is keeping your--I mean, he's keeping this woman in a dungeon with bones and things?"

She was appalled; never in her life would she have thought Octavius capable of such a thing. He had suffered through all these painful years with Medea with such grace, such acceptance... but now this? Had it been any other man, she might have thought it long overdue revenge, but this was Octavius--he was above such terrible cruelties.

"Are you all right?" asked Jeda suddenly, pulling Holladrin out of her thoughts and back into the physical realm.

"Why--yes, of course, dear," she assured the child hastily. "Now, run along and get your brother, and I shall meet you both in the stables. I just need to tell your father that I'm taking you for a ride."

"Yes, Holladrin," Jeda complied, skipping off toward the long, narrow corridor with a spring in her step, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred; the very sight of her made Holladrin yearn for the days of childhood, during which everything had seemed so much simpler, so inherently good.

She waited until Jeda's steps were out of earshot, then turned around and made her way to Octavius's study. For once in her life, Holladrin did not bother to knock.

"Holladrin?" Octavius greeted her, looking up from the page in front of him as she firmly closed the door behind her and began to stride to the side of his desk. "This certainly is a surprise. You ordinarily knock--"

"Just as you ordinarily lock away your deteriorating wife in the most disgusting dungeon in your castle?" she cut him off; she knew she was being curt, but she could think of no better way to state it than bluntly.

She gave him a chance to defend himself. To deny it perhaps, or assure her that the dungeon in question wasn't really all that horrible--but to her utter dismay, he was thoroughly silenced, speaking only through the shame in his eyes.

"So it's true then?" Holladrin demanded. "Octavius, how could you?"

He sighed. "I know it's inexcusable, but... well..."

"Well what?"

Shaking his head in resignation, he stared up at her--his eyes were identical to his daughter's. "You know... why does it matter? An explanation won't make a difference, will it? Why do you want to know?"

"Because I want to believe that you're a good man," she insisted. Because I have to believe that you're a good man.

"Perhaps it might be in your best interests if you believed otherwise."

To this, Holladrin had no reply but a stare. "Excuse me?"

"Look, Holladrin," Octavius began as he pushed back his chair and stood, "I care about you--a lot--but obviously, I am not in the best of circumstances right now, nor does it seem that I am handling my problems as I should. Perhaps it would be best if--"

"Shut up."

She'd caught him off-guard; now, she had his unwavering attention. "You have no right to tell me what's best for me. I will do as I see fit, and I will associate with whomsoever I choose--and you, my friend, may count yourself among that number, regardless of whether you think you belong there. Now, kindly explain to me why my cousin is rotting away in the deepest circle of this hell of a castle."

"Fair enough," he relented. "Thank you, then. You see... immediately after the incident with her and the children, Florian and I didn't really have time to think. We locked Medea up in what seemed the most convenient place at the time. After that, we tried to move her a few times, but we never managed to catch her in... the mood, shall we say? The guards prefer not to go near her, claiming she's possessed by demons, and with her as unpredictable as she is, it is rather risky for Florian and I to transport her on our own, especially if no one else is watching Sparron and Jeda at the moment, so we gave up hope of ever getting her out of that pigsty months ago. If it's any consolation, I doubt she even notices, though I can assure you that I get very little sleep at night, if any at all."

Nodding, Holladrin leaned toward him. "Well, humor me. Tell your guards to grow a pair and escort her to her former bedroom. Go to her every day until you catch her in a mildly lucid state. Can I ask this of you?"

You can ask anything of me," he promised her.

Then, as if by sheer instinct, she locked eyes with him and grinned subtly. "Likewise."

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