In Which Mona Keeps Her Dignity

March 25, 1181

"Well, it was very nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to head back home now." Searle waved, prompting what Mona guessed was an attempted giggle on Telvar's part. Her brother was about the last person she ever would have expected to be good with small children, but Anna's baby, at least, seemed to like him. "I have a little baby boy of my own, you see--just a few months older than you. And there's his big brother, and his big sister... and your Auntie Ren says there'll be another one in the summer! Fancy that: someone smaller than you."

Telvar cooed, his parents trading smiles as he said his voiceless goodbyes to his new uncle. So-called uncle, at any rate. It was perhaps the first pang of regret Mona had felt over the switch. Any babies she had would never have an uncle, at least not on her side. No aunts or grandparents or little cousins either. She prayed a quick apology on the off-chance the not-yet-dreamed-of could hear.

"It was good seeing you again. Brother," Anna added hastily, no doubt over-conscious of Devidra's presence. "I hope it won't be too long before your next visit."

"Oh, my next visits are typically sooner than anyone wishes them." He let out a self-deprecating chuckle Mona doubted he could have managed if not for the baby. "I don't want this little one to forget me now, do I?"

"He won't."

"I'll hold him to it." He flashed Telvar a mock-stern look. "But I suppose I'll see first if my own boy managed to keep that same promise. Lovely seeing you again, sister--and good meeting you, nephew." He nodded toward Adrius and Devidra in turn; Mona supposed that was the closest he ever got to a bow. "Your majesties. It's been a pleasure."

The royals bid him farewell and he left without so much of a sidelong glance Mona's way, and it stung. They'd said their own private goodbyes, of course, with Zareth stationed outside the door, and while it was better than nothing it was hardly preferable. If only Adrius and Anna could have happened openly; surely no one would have faulted her for that? And surely she wouldn't have to hide, even from her own family?

And surely--

"Are you all right?"

Mona blinked. The royals had vacated the throne room in the time of her momentary slip from reality, leaving only Zareth for company. She would not grant him the satisfaction of her vulnerability. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." He did seem concerned, if his eyes didn't lie. She wasn't sure what to make of that. He'd scarcely been around lately, and always coming up with some excuse to leave when he was, and never bothering to apologize. His flashes of gentleness had always been few and far between and she didn't know whether she could trust them.

Mona forced herself to remember the night on the ship. She would not confide in him, but if she kept in mind that shining moment, she could rebuff him as a friend. If they were friends. "I am."

"Mona--"

"I insist!" Zareth frowned. Had that been a little too eager? Face warm, Mona shrunk back. "I mean... really. I'm all right. But thank you for your concern. Sir."

He winced. Some vindictive part of her welled with fleeting, hollow pleasure. She'd never called him 'sir' before. She'd never intended to. He must have never intended it either.

"You're not as good a liar as you think you are."

"Who says I think I'm a good liar? Or a liar at all, even, in this particular instance?" Zareth said nothing. Mona would count that silence as a victory. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have plans with my sweetheart."

He sniffed. "And I with mine, come to think of it. I should be going."

"That you should." She jabbed a finger toward the door and waited for him to move, but he didn't. She hated him for it. Of course he would pick now to stay. "Well? Go on."

"Wait."

He took a step forward and reached around her, a slow yet unexpected hug. It was a comfort she hadn't anticipated, an indulgence that could hurt her cause, but she resolved to keep her dignity. She would cry a quick tear and let it fall to his shoulder, so lightly he'd never even know. A single tear. Just the one.

Nothing more.

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