Broken Dove (Fantasyland 4)

“Do I have to go back, Maddie?” she asked on a pout.

“I’m afraid you do, honey bunch. School is important.”

She aimed her eyes in front of her and kept pouting. “I don’t know why you stay all the way out here in the country when Papa has a house right in Benies.”

I didn’t know either. Except that it was peaceful here. And I suspected my husband, as any soldier would in a time without war, needed peace.

“Maybe I can talk your father into moving there for a couple of weeks so you and Chris can come home after school rather than staying there,” I offered. “And on the weekends we can go shopping, and have a pastry in a café, and maybe he’ll take us for dinner at Le Pont de L’eau.”

Her head shot back and I again got her eyes. “Would you?”

“Anything for you,” I replied and it was absolutely no lie.

Her face lit.

And my sweet Élan’s face lit often, but I suspected this time it was because she knew what I said was true.

A voice came from the door.

“Hurry up,” Chris called. “The carriage is waiting.”

Élan started pouting again but I put the letter aside and got up from the couch, grabbing her hand and tugging her up with me.

We walked hand in hand to the door as Christophe watched, his eyes aimed to our clasped hands.

He never missed anything. Not Chris. He was ever watchful.

As any good soldier or writer would need to be.

He moved out of the door when we arrived. He then fell in step on the other side of me as we made our way to the front door.

I thought I would get used to it, the contentment, the calm that came from the absolute understanding that I had everything.

Walking to the door with Chris and Élan, marveling at the sweet sensation of having them in my life and having them accept me in theirs, I knew I’d never get used to it.

And I knew why.

Because it got better when Chris opened the door and my husband, standing on the steps waiting for us, the sun shining on his dark hair, his green shirt opened at the collar, his brown breeches fitting him way to well, turned our way.

His warm, contented eyes slid through me before he looked to his kids.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I’m ready,” Chris answered.

“I’m never ready to go back to school,” Élan groused.

“We’ll see you at the week’s end, precious girl,” Apollo told her. “Now, give Maddie a kiss and let us be away.”

Élan let my hand go but only to turn to me and give me both of her arms.

I bent to her and gave her mine as well as a kiss on the cheek.

She touched her lips to mine before she let me go and dragged her feet as she walked to her father. Her step lightened when he lifted a hand to her and she reached out to take it.

Chris turned and looked up at me. “Until the week’s end, Maddie.”

I lifted a hand and again marveled at the sensation of how beautiful it was when he allowed me to bend to him and cup his jaw.

“Look after your sister,” I told him softly.

“I will,” he replied.

I gave him a smile.

He smiled back.

I marveled at the sensation that caused too.

I dropped my hand and Chris turned, sauntering with his father’s grace to the carriage Élan had already entered.

I moved to Apollo, put a hand on his stomach and tipped my head back.

He took the invitation and dropped his to touch his mouth to mine.

“I’ll return in a few hours, my dove,” he said there.

“See you then, baby.”

He grinned against my lips.

I returned the favor.

Then he brushed his mouth to mine before he moved away and I watched him mount his horse.

I stood on the steps of our country house in Fleuridia, the first place I’d known in this world, and waved as the carriage rolled away, Apollo riding at its side.

My husband didn’t wave back but he bowed his head to me.

Élan, however, hung out the carriage window and waved frantically.

I stood where I was until they were out of sight.

Since the view was long, this took some time.

But I had hours to kill before my man returned, so I took it. And I enjoyed the vision before me. The colors so vivid they hurt the eyes. The memory that here was where I left a life not worth living behind and was given a life that was worth dying for.

When they were gone, I moved back into the house thinking I should write Finnie a letter. Or Cora. Or Circe.

However, I didn’t go to my writing desk.

I went to the stairs, thinking it would be nice when Loretta returned from her honeymoon with Hans. I missed her. I was happy for her, but I missed her.

I then turned to thinking it would be nice when Meeta returned from her vacation sex-a-thon with Ruben.

He’d asked for her hand.

She said she didn’t want to leave me.

He said he couldn’t leave Frey.

They were at a stalemate, working it out at Ruben’s house in Houllebec in Lunwyn. This meant, even if she left to journey to me in Fleuridia, I wouldn’t see her for months.

And I hoped in those months she’d decide to give in to Ruben.

Her friendship and loyalty meant a lot to me (not to mention, she was a master at doing good hair).

But love.

Love was everything.

On this thought, I entered the room and made my quiet way to the exceptionally girlie crib with its frilly green bedclothes, the mobile hanging low over it made of padded gray wolves.

I looked down into the crib and blinked.

In it was Valentine, my daughter, with her little frizz of auburn hair and tiny nose across which danced freckles.

Though, if she opened her sleepy eyes, I would see their pure translucent jade green.

That was not what surprised me.

What surprised me was at the end of her crib was a bag of scoop-shaped Fritos, a box of ballpoint pens, a pouch made of emerald green satin, and an envelope with my name written it.

I reached in and grabbed the envelope.

Tearing it open, I slid out the letter, the words written in green ink.

Ma Colombe,

Your wolf wished you to have these so here they are.

What’s in the pouch, however, is a gift from me.

I dash this to you for things don’t ever stay boring, fortunately. Love is in the air, and with it comes its tribulations.

This time, we shall see if a woman from there can settle into life with a man from here.

I do believe our Noctorno of this world will have his work cut out for him.

But in the end, I’ve no doubt he’ll succeed.