18th July 1103

“Hello my love,” Isaura’s husband murmured as he carefully sat down on the side of the bed.

Isaura started, causing a spasm of pain to run rampant down her spine. She had dived in deep, so deep into the realm of her own pain that she had been oblivious to her husband’s presence in the room. It was easier when she could lie there, floating in stasis. Then she could count the moments passing, focus on the twisting ache of her spine, count the bones in her body one by one. She came up gulping and spluttering.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Lochan gazed at her with concern, the corners of his mouth drooping.

In response she lifted hers up in a difficult smile, “No, no… you just startled me that’s all.”

“Oh, good,” her husband sighed and leaned back against the bedboard.

His fine brows were knitted into a frown, the tension in his body evident from the way the tendons in his neck were standing out.

“Is everything alright?” she asked softly.

He sighed again, “No. It’s not really.”

“What’s wrong Lochan?”

He stared at her for a long time. She knew he was seeing the pallor of her skin, the dark hollows around her eyes. She had lost even more weight in the last months so that her dresses had to be tightened by the seamstress to prevent them falling off entirely. Her hair was falling out in clumps so, in order to cover the bald patches, her lady maid had to carefully arrange it. She wondered if he found her beautiful any longer. When she looked in the mirror all she could see was a spectre of her former self, as though she were long dead but her body refused to admit it and let her continue decaying above the ground.

Her soul was trapped inside this cocoon of pain and suffering. She would not be free until her body finally gave in and let her die.

“Please, tell me,” she murmured, reaching for his hand.

He took it in his own, slowly rubbing his thumb over the dry skin.

“Eallair wants me to go on the ship to Lomorrad and Fjaerland,” he replied dejectedly.

“He trusts you” Isaura replied gently.

She shifted position on the bed. Even this was a monumental task that required her to drag her numb left leg in to place. She carefully smoothed down her dress where it had crumpled and turned back to Lochan.

“I know he does. And he shouldn’t trust Eanraig. I certainly don’t. In my mind it would be madness to send that man off with the diplomacy of Mhalwae in his care. He doesn’t speak for the Kingdom. I’d send Garrick but the way he’s been since the new baby was born, I don’t trust him to keep us safe. And Radomir… well…”

“Then of course you must go,” she replied, “there isn’t any question. What are you concerned about? I’m sure things will run smoothly here without you. Madlenka’s got a head on her shoulders and she has no trouble reigning in Eallair if she needs to.”

But he was staring at her with such a look of devastation it nigh broke her weakly beating heart in two.

He would be gone for many months. It was a months travel to the Northern continent alone. And then there would be diplomatic missions to various allies. He would be gone a long time. She felt his hand trembling in her own and she squeezed it a little tighter, snuggling in close.

“You’re afraid something will happen to me while you’re gone,” she whispered.

She closed her eyes as she leaned against him, exhausted from merely shuffling across the bed. She was so very tired and so ready to fall asleep and never wake up. But she saw now that she could not give in to that desire. Not yet.

“Yes,” he choked and she felt his tears hot against her cheek.

He drew away from her, rubbing his eyes in shame. Then she felt his arms tighten around her waist. Her spine throbbed and ached sending pulsing shivers up her neck and down again to die out in her numb legs.

“I can’t lose you,” he mumbled and another tear spilled unbidden and ran down his cheek.

“Lochan, my dearest heart, but you are going to. I cannot stay like this forever. We both know how this is going to end. It’s been coming a long time.”

A ratcheting sob rose from his throat as clutched her to his chest.

“You are going to lose me my love and you must prepare yourself for that,” she said softly, “but I will always be with you. Always. Whenever you forget that just look at our daughter. I am with you in her.”

“And on the day you die I will be waiting for you at the gates of heaven.”

He was weeping openly as she had never seen him do, his mouth open wide gasping air, his lower lip trembling as he tried to control the sobbing.

She clasped him around his neck, pulling her meagre weight up by her arms so her face was level with his, “You must go with the ship Lochan. You must do this. For the Kingdom. You cannot think of me. This is more important than me.”

“Then you must promise me something,” his voice wavered.

“You mustn’t let go while I’m away. I couldn’t return…” he drew a rattling breath, “and find you gone. I couldn’t do it Isaura. It would be the death of me.”

“Promise me,” he squeezed her tighter, sending a bolt of agony through her body.

“Promise me,” he ground his teeth, staring at her with red rimmed eyes.

She was so very, very tired.

“I promise,” she murmured and kissed his trembling mouth.