In Which Octavius Is Caught Without Words

February 18, 1171

Octavius lit the last of the three candles and pulled himself to his feet. He wasn't the sort of man who cared to dwell on the distant past, but the present was bleak and the future didn't look to be much brighter. How differently all of this might have turned out if only it had occurred a decade prior; Medea could have driven Deian out of Naroni by sheer force of will, he was sure of it.

Medea. He wondered how she was doing now; knowing her, probably much the same. Did she know all the details of what was going on back here on the surface? She must have. She probably knew more than he did, and he knew more than he cared to know.

And to think, he hadn't even tried to find out! All he'd had to do was turn up at the castle and catch a certain sort of smile on Roderick's smug face. In times such as these, what cause would the man have for such a thing other than pure schadenfreude? And who might invoke such feelings in Roderick? Not his own family, obviously, or his sister's family, or his sisterly cousin's family. Even Severin's family seemed a stretch.

No, it could have only been one person, and a brief confrontation with that Searle boy had confirmed his suspicions. It was Eilyssa--it could have only been Eilyssa--and it was taking all the self-control he had not to storm over to Aldhein's house and tell him to get his family the hell out of Naroni before morning. What was this going to do to that poor man? At least the rest of them had been aware of the possibility that one of their daughters would be drawn, whereas Aldhein would be in the dark until the whole bloody ordeal was over--not that knowing would have made it any easier.

"Well, I'll be damned! I could see some lights in the castle windows, but I certainly wasn't expecting company!"

Octavius raised an eyebrow. He knew that voice--very well--but couldn't recall the last time he'd heard it. Really, he wasn't even sure he'd ever expected to hear it again. "Geneva?"

He turned around and looked toward the open door; sure enough, it was none other. "Octavius. It's been a while."

"Indeed." He took a minute to size her up--her thin frame, her mane of curls, her pointed nose and violet eyes. She looked little enough like Leara or Camaline, but aside from her coloring, she might have been the twin of Eilyssa. "You haven't aged a day."

"Likewise." She kicked the door shut, then drew further into the crypt. It had been years since she'd been queen in more than name, but she still moved with the grace of an empress. "Maybe that's the advantage to not being one of the Dalstons or Alinas of the world; we aren't pretty, but at least we don't drastically decline over the years."

"Had either Dalston or Alina been given those years, then we might have tested your theory." Silence. He didn't think Geneva was a cruel woman, but she did have an undeniable knack for thoughtless comments--something that he, who habitually weighed words to the point of compulsion, would never understand.

"But never mind that. Do you often sneak into my castle to visit my wife's grave?"

Geneva's boyish lips twitched into a small smile. "A couple times a year or so."

Octavius sighed. "Well, I'm sure she would be glad to know it--but in the future, would you mind coming openly, perhaps during the day? I have enough on my plate without having to worry about the state of my walls."

"Oh?" Her brow arched, her mouth returning to its neutral, flat-line state. "Is something happening?"

It was difficult to say no to such eyes--all wide and startling and infinitely emotional, the one remarkable feature of an otherwise plain woman. All the same, however, he didn't know what he could tell her. How did one tell a woman that her estranged lovechild was about to become a human sacrifice, especially if one considered that her husband could have very well rigged the decision process? "Uh... well, I don't really know what to tell you."

A hurt glaze washed over Geneva's face; if someone else were to enter the crypt just then, they might have guessed he'd hit her. "Does Holladrin know?" She pursed her lips, as if trying to withhold her distaste. "Does Celina know? What about that girl Severin ended up marrying--does she know?"

Wary of the point she may have been trying to make, Octavius nodded. "The gist of it, at least--not the specifics. As far as I'm aware, Severin and Lorn don't even know the whole story."

Geneva's eyes narrowed; if there was any physical resemblance between her and her nephew, here it was. "In that case, I believe I have the right to at least some information. I was just as involved with the founding of this kingdom as Celina was--moreso, perhaps, and certainly moreso than the other two."

She had him there, perhaps. Or did she? She'd chosen to leave, had she not? Would he be within his rights to remind her of that? "Well, I suppose you did bed three of the founding lords."

She didn't flinch at the sound of his dry remark; on the contrary, she smirked. "Care to make it a perfect four?"

Was she joking? He couldn't be sure; he decided to assume that she was. "My apologies--that was out of line. Look, while I suppose you do have the right to this information, I'm not sure if telling you would be the kindest thing, especially since you're rarely in the area anyway and all of our hands are tied."

"What do you mean by that?" Her tone was final and demanding; she wasn't about to leave without knowing.

"Well, it's sort of a 'needs of the many versus the needs of the few' situation." Awkward, he ran his hand through his hair and sighed; he wasn't even sure how to process all of this in his own head, let alone pass on the information to the victim's own mother. "Something horrible is about to happen, but if we prevent it, then we're in for something even worse. You might be wise to leave the kingdom as soon as possible."

She waited in motionless tension as he struggled to continue. "What sort of horrible thing?"

Really, what could he say to her? Not a word came to mind that wouldn't have been a dagger to her heart. "Geneva..."

"Please." She bit her lip and crossed her arms, staring up at him with those Venusian eyes once again. "I can understand that you'd want me out of your sight, but I can't help but feeling that I have to be here--like I might be able to help somehow. Have you ever felt that way before?"

He shook his head. "No, I can't say that I have."

"Well... never mind, then." Geneva sighed, twisting a gold, curly strand around her finger in her agitation. "But I don't need your empathy; I just need the facts, whatever they happen to be."

"You're certain?" She nodded. When Geneva of Bandera made up her mind, there was no force of man or nature that could stop her.

Octavius stared at her for a moment or so, then placed his arm around her waist and began to lead her out of the crypt. "Perhaps we'd better discuss this inside; it's getting rather cool, and you probably haven't eaten all day."

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