The Meaning of Cowardice

He managed to handle the Coterie, but once he was left with his thoughts again, he could hardly focus on work. The sky was growing darker once more, although the incoming storm wasn't comparable to the previous ones. He fell asleep at his desk in the afternoon and got waken up by lightning. He tiredly continued his work under the light of the lamp on his table as the rain tapped on his windows.

Adanita didn't come to see him during the day. Or in the evening. Was she waiting for him to come, instead? Did she hate him? He didn't know. Was he really being respectful and giving her space, or did she think he was too proud to see her? He tried to ask Teo after dinner, but the man ran off, visibly determined he wouldn't get involved. Rosamund decided not to chase him down, but perhaps he should have. This, too, was cowardice.

Well, it seemed she at least didn't tell her people what the fight was about. He was grateful for it, but that meant she was alone with herself again. Nobody to speak to about her troubles, and he promised he wouldn't allow it to happen...

Oh, what a mess.

It hurt. Lilac firmly took his side because he knew what the argument was about, but he didn't want someone telling him he was right after what he said. Nivelir also took his side, but that was because he would always do it. He didn't want that either, and he didn't want to talk while the two men tried to cheer him up after dinner. He went to bed before midnight, exhausted from existing. There was nothing else he could do, after all.

He was falling asleep, slowly. He was tired, he needed rest. The mess in his mind couldn't fight against it. He watched the curtains through half-closed eyes and listened to the rainfall.

Lightning.

Silhouette. Someone was outside! He groggily struggled to get out of bed, tangled up in his sheets and revolver in hand. He pulled the curtain away to reveal- a branch from the bush below. He pressed his head against the window, cooling his forehead and trying to calm down his heartbeat.

He was on the first floor. How could there be someone just standing outside his window? The only one who could conceivably fly would be the devil, and he was safe behind the divine protections placed by the priests. And if someone tried to climb up the building, Ekliptik's people who now guarded him constantly would have seen them.

He was safe.

He was just tired. Paranoid. Perhaps a cup of tea to calm the nerves would help.

Properly drained by the experience, he managed to put on a warm robe. The gun was safe in one of the large pockets, and Rosamund was off to the kitchens.

A cup of tea really helped. He felt warmer and more relaxed, so he decided to pack a small platter with cookies left over from Nivelir's teatime, and another cup. He went upstairs, ignoring the door to his original bedroom as he walked down the hallway. Passing by another door, he heard a quiet sob. Wasn't this-

"Adanita?" he called, pressing his ear against the door. Absolute silence. Was she- well she was awake, surely. Ah, damn it all. If it is this bad, he can't just walk away. This wasn't the time for cowardice. If she tells him to leave, he will, but he needed to at least try. He turned the doorknob and opened the door slightly. Just a crack, just enough for the light of his candle to get through. "Captain Vervain, may I come in? I, uh, I have some tea..." he tried.
He heard a quiet sniffle and some movement. Was she wiping her tears? "Please," she quietly said. "I- I want the light."

Oh gods. This was something he caused.

No one else.

He entered the room, closing the door behind him, and placed the platter on her nightstand. He used his candle to light up the room a little. Not too much, in case she wanted to go back to sleep instead of speaking to him.

"Are you alright?" he quietly asked, too afraid to face her giving her some space.
"Aye." She sat up in her bed and reached for his cup. He noticed she took her gold beads out of her hair while sleeping. There was no glimmer in the dim light. Her face was in the shadow of her bed canopy. "I- Lightning woke me up. Thought it was cannons. Then I couldn't remember where I was. I thought..." she went quiet.

"I am sorry," he said. "Can I stay here for a moment?"
"A-aye. Did y-you see this coming? No, you couldn't have..."
"Lightning woke me up, too," he said. He sat on the side of the bed, looking at the flickering candlelight.
"Ah, right. Oh gods, where did these bags under your eyes come from? Damn it, I didn't see you for a day, Rosamund!" she said.
"It happens when you have trouble sleeping," he replied. "Considering my age, I think I should be allowed to have them."
"Considering your age, I'd think you'd know better than skipping out on sleep."
He let out a soft chuckle. He couldn't help it. Even if it was just a day, he missed her.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said. "For what I said. I could see how horrible of a thing it was the moment I said it, but I was too upset to run after you and apologize immediately. I- I have no excuses. I got angry and I am sorry."
"Hah. It's fine. I'm sorry for calling you a piece of shit, too."
"Pardon? When did that happen?"
"Somewhere at the start of the fight."
"I don't remember it at all," he said. Other, much more upsetting things followed it. "I accept your apology, however. I'd much prefer if you didn't use such language for me ever again." He didn't deserve insults, especially not during arguments.
"Never again," she promised. "I- I was also angry. I apologize."
"It's fine."

Working towards it, it seemed. Rosamund wondered how he should continue. He wanted to offer her a hand, but he felt that if she wanted such a thing, she'd put it closer to him. One was holding onto the teacup, other one in her lap, and he was sitting a polite distance away from her so as to not disturb her. The pinecone, he realized. That was what she was holding.

"I am sorry for not coming to see you sooner," he tried. "I thought I should give you space. I didn't want to bother you with my presence, and considering how the conversation ended, I was worried I'd make you upset if I visited too soon."
"I think this is the first time you came to my room without me telling you to," she absentmindedly said. She was right, he realized. The only times he was here was when she was sick, or when she asked him to see her new dress. "I assumed you wouldn't come on your own," she admitted. "But facing you in your office was somehow... not an option."
"The power balance?" he suggested.
"I suppose."
"It didn't occur to me. I apologize."
"It's alright."
"No, it- it isn't. I am sorry. I apologize for making you feel as if I think I am always right. I apologize for making you think what I say is the only option. I didn't mean- I want our agreements, us working together, to be a choice and a compromise. If I made you feel that you had no right to input, or that I'd only do things however I like... That's not how I want to work with you. I want us to work together and keep each other safe."
"I know," she said. "I do, too. I was only... I was afraid, when I saw the weapon. I didn't mean what I said. You're a good man. I'm sorry."

Ah... she meant it. She really did. Rosamund felt a horrible weight lifting from his heart. He was a good man, she said. She meant it.

"Do you have the gun with you?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
She reached out with her hand, waiting in silence. He sighed and gave her the revolver. It wasn't as if she needed it if she wanted to harm him, nor would she run off with it now. And, well. He trusted her.
"Would you have really broken all ties with me if I took it?" she asked, carefully holding the weapon.
"Gods, Adanita. Yes," he said. "Please understand. One of us needs to let it go and I am begging you, don't ask it from me. I cannot give this to the world. I can't- I don't want to be responsible for it. I will melt it down if you ask me to. I- I just can't. Please."
"Rosamund, stop it. I don't want you begging like this..."
"I'm sorry-"
"Enough," she said firmly, standing up. "Rosamund, you're shivering."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop it. Go sit down on the couch," she said, returning him his weapon. Ah, was he about to be kicked out? Well, she said the couch, so perhaps not. He went to take a seat as she requested, while she found a large blanket in one of her closets. She wrapped one end around her shoulders, and the other end around him as she took a seat by his side.

"There. I didn't want to suggest you come to bed by my side, I thought you'd be uncomfortable. Personal space, right?" she asked. "Are you feeling better?"

Blessed darkness of the room. He was, in fact, feeling a lot better. This meant she wasn't angry with him anymore, right? She kept a few centimeters of distance between them out of consideration, too. He felt good. He was calming down, tightly holding the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"Thank you," he quietly said.
"Aye, aye," she said. "You aren't afraid of me, right? This is fine with you, right? It's just cold, I need the blanket too..."
"Hah. Wouldn't I still be shivering?"
"Suppose you would."
"Thank you," he repeated. "I just need a moment before we can continue speaking."
"Take your time."

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. He closed his eyes, listening to the waning rainfall outside. It would be extremely inappropriate if they hugged now, while trying to discuss important matters. It would also be inappropriate to lean against her. Damn it all, he was trying to keep the balance of power equal, asking for something like that would make it all fall into water. As much as he would have liked to hug her, to let her know he truly was sorry, and that he forgave her for things she said, too... as much as he would have liked to be held in her warm embrace, and be told the same.

No. He could never do such a thing. Even this was inappropriate.

He got up, carefully placing his end of the blanket around her, making sure she was warm and comfortable. He tightly wrapped his robe around himself and sat down on the coffee table, still close to her but not, well, not pressuring her. Hopefully. She didn't comment on this, or tried to stop him from leaving her side. Good.

"I cannot give you this weapon," he firmly said.
"Alright. Let's speak alternatives, then," she replied calmly. "Imagine your plans failing, and we enter a war. What am I to do?"
"You didn't think it could happen until you saw my revolver."
"Oh, I did. I didn't discuss it with you, though."
He stared at her face, deeply alarmed. "What- what did you do?"
"Nothing yet," she said. "I only planned on the possibility with Teo and some more trustworthy people. Securing some trades with Bretonia's enemies, with enough steps between us so that these negotiations wouldn't be affected. I know what I am doing, Rosamund."
"You were preparing for-"
"-a possibility," she cut him off. "Again, I didn't do anything that would put these negotiations in danger. But if this doesn't work, I need options. I am listening."
"I won't fail," he said.
"You can't know that."
"I assure you-"
"I believe you are a skilled man. I believe it when you say you worked as a diplomat, and that you think you can negotiate peace between large powers. But I am not a large power. We are a loose group of criminals. If they decide it is easier to wipe us out, no amount of diplomacy would work to reverse that decision. It wouldn't be a war to show off who's stronger before the wigged men in carpeted rooms decide to speak again, it would be a slaughter. Look me in the eye and tell me you can stop it."
"I can."
"You are lying, Lord Governor. Either to me, or to yourself. In either case, it is disgusting to see." She looked to his right, crossing her arms. Waiting.

Gods... she was right. If Sarmia, or one of the other powers decided that they could afford it after all, then the seas will be dyed red with blood, and skies turn black from the soot of burning ships. He... needed a leverage. Words alone could not prevent it.

"I apologize. I... am an idealist at heart."
"I know. That was why I was so surprised to see you with this gun. But considering all the situations you've walked into, including all the duels you've initiated in my presence, I suppose I shouldn't have been so... I apologize. I forgot that, as merciful and kind as you are, you must have been able to kill all this time. You wouldn't have become the Governor otherwise. I felt betrayed because I forgot how many sides you have. You are a very complex man."
"Thank you, I suppose."
"Hah. There is nothing wrong in taking necessary steps. This is nothing to be ashamed of, Lord Governor."
"Do you find taking the revolver a necessary step?"
She thought about it for a moment. "No. I'd say your threat worked. Whatever you might succeed at doing for me will be more valuable than a new weapon... so, if you wouldn't do it because I took it, it would be a loss by default."
"I apologize for stooping so low. It- it was a necessary step." She shrugged, unbothered. He continued, trying to buy time to think of a solution. "It hurt to do it. And your response hurt too. It's not cowardly to choose not to enter conflict. The bravest thing anyone can do is to look in the face of danger and... choose not to shoot. The bravest actions are speaking, diplomacy, working towards the future where nobody ends up injured. Your death didn't make you a coward. It made you more careful and hopefully more mindful of your options in the future. Killing your enemies is easy. Asking them to stand down is terrifying. So, I understand the apprehension to this approach, considering your previous life and your current one. I hope you understand how brave you are choosing to be."
"Hah. Are you trying to make me blush?"
"Oh, are you? Damn it, I should have lit up the room better so I can see."
"Is that so? Perhaps I should say the same." She flashed him a brilliant grin he could see even in the shadowy room. He felt his face turning red as he looked away. His moment of weakness didn't go unnoticed, it seemed. He almost started apologizing again, but he realized she was simply toying with him a little. After all, if she minded it, she would've done something.

He let out a quiet sigh.

"I will put my own money aside for-" he started and raised his hand to stop her objections. She ignored him.
"I don't need your money!" she said.
"Listen. Think of it as a bet," he said. "As- as insurance. If I succeed with my diplomatic approach, you will have friends among nobles and dignitaries of numerous countries, and I will keep my money. All ended well. And if I fail, everything should be arranged in a way that you are more than able to defend yourself. You will become a baroness, and in Bretonia that title means something even if it is one of the lowest. Hannau Cove will be yours to fortify or run as you like. Considering the natural fortifications the area has, you won't need to do much on that front. However, you need to open a factory for making furniture. Gather several loyal craftsmen skilled with woodworking and smithing. I will find some people for you, too. Have them create high quality furniture, sell it around the archipelago or the world as you see fit. Buy more wood and metal than you need, and if things go awry, you will be able to turn it into a musket factory instead."
"Hah. And what about gunpowder?"
"I- ah. Right. Well, these islands are volcanic in nature. Sending a few expeditions towards the old craters should find you all the sulfur you might need. As for saltpeter, I will have my father give you the recipe for it. And the blueprints for muskets, the ones that people use in this world. I will provide these, too. The best of the best, of course. Your pirates will be as well-armed as any other power. Is this enough for you, my Queen?"
"It... could be."
"Just in case," he begged. "Use this only if I fail, or if I die. Don't head into war, please. Finish the fight, but do not start it."
"I promise," she said.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"You are shivering again."
"I'm sorry."
"You apologize too much," she said. "It doesn't suit you."

She raised her arm, holding the blanket up. Inviting him back. It finally dawned to him that she meant nothing by it. He was the one acting strange. He could imagine her on the deck of her ship, huddled under a blanket next to Teodolit or Ekliptik. To her, this wasn't inappropriate. It was just warm. He let out a quiet laugh and returned to her side. Why not? She wrapped the blanket around him again, placing her hand on his shoulder just for a moment before letting him go.
"Personal space, right?" she asked with a smile in her voice, and it was his turn to grin at her.


Sitting in comfortable silence, they waited for the rain to end.