A Grave in the Garden

A Few Months Later

Viktor

How the enemy had managed to penetrate so deep into their domain remained a gnawing mystery, a source of constant frustration for both Viktor and General Gathersword despite their tireless inquiries. The General, naturally, had launched a rigorous investigation into his own ranks. The only grim satisfaction came from unmasking a spy in his own First Lieutenant. That treachery was put to a swift and brutal end with an unceremonious execution. Yet, even with the traitor dead, a profound disquiet settled in Viktor’s soul. He could not shake the unshakable feeling that this was merely one thread of a much larger tapestry, that a more significant betrayal was still simmering just beneath the surface.

In moments of uncertainty, his gaze would invariably drift to his uncle, an unspoken accusation hanging in the air between them. Suspicion, however, was not evidence. In the absence of any tangible proof, the terrible thoughts that plagued him remained his own silent burden, a poison he could not voice.

The day after the assault, he arranged a funeral for the fallen. He made a point to have Jace interred in the palace gardens, selecting a peaceful, shaded alcove where Natalia could visit him whenever she wished. The boy had fulfilled his duty, had served his queen. This was the only honor Viktor could bestow upon him in death.

Natalia’s companion, Morgan, had rejoined the palace staff following her ordeal, bringing with her crucial intelligence regarding an enemy encampment just a day’s ride away. Almost immediately after her return, Markus became a scarce presence at Viktor’s side. Viktor had a strong suspicion as to the whereabouts of his closest friend, who often vanished into the labyrinthine corridors of the palace to visit the former maid, now a medical apprentice. This suspicion was only reinforced when, by month’s end, quiet complaints circulated among the staff about discovering the new couple in various supply closets. Viktor wouldn’t have cared in the slightest, were it not for the absence of his most trusted confidant.

Unfortunately, their planned outing to the festival had been a casualty of the chaos. In place of celebration, Viktor found himself confronting Natalia in the stifling silence of their bedchamber, listening to the fears she could no longer suppress. He did his best to allay her anxieties, murmuring reassurances of their safety, but he couldn't shake the grim certainty that these fears would now be her constant companions—a permanent shadow on her heart that nothing he did could ever fully dispel. The immediate threat from Ethon had been neutralized, with the old king's nephew, King Adan, now on the throne, yet Viktor remained deeply unsatisfied. The architect of the rebellion that had ignited the conflict was a ghost, a phantom they could not grasp. The strategies he and his uncle had devised and deployed had thus far yielded nothing.

Natalia’s birthday was approaching. On that morning, as the pale light of dawn filtered through the grand windows, Viktor broke from his usual routine. Instead of rising early and leaving her to her dreams, he remained, content to simply watch his wife sleep. A profound tranquility emanated from her, a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned beyond these walls. Viktor gently threaded his fingers through her hair, noticing it had grown longer. When they had first met, it had been cut to her shoulders, a practical style for his future bride. Now, silken waves cascaded to her shoulder blades. As he watched, the drowsy, sky-blue of Natalia’s eyes fluttered open.

"Viktor?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing here? I never see you when I wake up." She shifted, nestling against him until her head rested on his chest. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"Happy birthday, Natalia," he whispered into her hair. She gave a contented hum, sinking deeper into his embrace. He held her close, cherishing the simple comfort of her presence.

"That's right, I'm nineteen today," she said, a note of surprise in her voice. Viktor found it difficult to believe she was only nineteen. So often she acted with a youthful exuberance, yet at other times, she would gaze out the window with a pensive, faraway look, remembering something—or someone. In those moments, Viktor knew precisely who occupied her thoughts: Jace, and the family she had lost. Then, she seemed far older than her nineteen years.

"Viktor, tell me your birthday. I don't think you ever told me," Natalia's question pulled him from his reverie. He hadn't realized he’d omitted such a simple fact, an oversight he quickly corrected.

"The thirty-first of December. I will be twenty-one." Natalie’s focus, which had been hazy with sleep, sharpened completely upon him after a moment of quiet contemplation.

"Viktor," she said, her tone soft but resolute. She met his gaze, her arms encircling his neck. "I want to have children. I want to hold our own child, a boy or a girl. I want us to start trying."

A genuine smile, the first in what felt like an eternity, spread across Viktor’s face. He hugged his wife tightly, giving her another long, passionate kiss. "If you are truly set on having little rascals running around, then the sooner we start, the better." A small, sharp laugh escaped him.

Natalia cocked her head. "What's so funny?"

"Markus is going to be ecstatic," Viktor chuckled, already picturing his friend’s reaction. "He's been hoping for us to have children for some time now."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He insists, 'I want to be their secret uncle,'" Viktor’s laugh deepened. It seemed his friend was finally going to get his wish.

"Then we'll have to make sure we give him plenty of 'nieces and nephews' to dote on," Natalia remarked cheekily. Viktor grinned down at her, his heart feeling lighter than it had in months. He gave her one last kiss.

"Yes, we will. Markus should be careful what he wishes for."

They agreed to try soon, though not that morning. Today was a day for celebration—both Natalia's and Morgan's birthdays. After dressing, the pair made their way to the dining room, where Markus and Morgan were already waiting. Natalia went straight to her friend, who happily returned her warm embrace and birthday wishes.

"Viktor, Natalia," Markus said, his face split by a wide, delirious grin. "Morgan and I have some news for you." Morgan held up her left hand, revealing a simple yet elegant silver band intricately woven with flecks of gold that caught the morning light. Squealing, Natalia pulled her friend into another hug that nearly lifted her from the floor.

"We're hoping to have a small wedding in a few days," Markus stated, his eyes never leaving his fiancée. "I have no family left, and nearly all my friends live or work in the palace. It is much the same for Morgan."

Viktor smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder. Now it was his turn to tease Markus about children.