No Fury

Now: Sixty Four

A/N: Thanks for all your votes & comments. I really do read them all! We write stories here simply because we love to string words together - all we ask is that you vote for the chapters you enjoy. It absolutely makes my day to see so many of you enjoying this story and talking about it!  Love you guys! ~Spark

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I close my eyes, pressing a hand to my face. Just the thought of Maria right now makes my insides slither with rage. "You do not know what you are asking of me to go from what we've just done, to discussing her."

Harry's hand slowly slides away from my breast as I roll to my other side, but he follows with his body, scooting into my back, cajoling.

"I know the timing is all wrong," he says, kissing my shoulder. "But I feel . . ." He searches for the right word. "I feel prepared. We — you and I — are in a place where we can face some of these things now. Before, I felt so overwhelmed, so isolated. But I'm not. I have you."

I squeeze my eyes closed, struggling to not feel resentful.

I roll to face him again, kissing his soft mouth. "You do have me. You always will." I study his eyes, looking for any sign of fear or hesitation there. "But the story is . . . it is not as easy as you think."

His mouth comes to my neck. "I am sure you are right. But I want to return to my home. I want to bring you with me. We cannot do that until I know everything it is that we face back there."

He is right. We cannot stay in the fantasy of this shed for the rest of our lives, no matter how much I wish to.

I sit up, crossing my legs and staring across the room to where our baby sleeps soundly in the bassinet. "I do not know where to begin," I admit.

You married a woman you did not like.
She caught you with your lover.
She betrayed you.
Her father betrayed us all.
She is responsible for the death of your father.
She imprisoned me, and stole our daughter.

It is so much. How can I possibly tell him all of this while we lie here, naked in our bed?

"Tell me about her?"

I nod, grateful that he has prompted me this way; it is easy enough to start there. "She was a princess from Spain, the youngest, with four older brothers."

"Her father is the king, our ally, correct?"

I nod, but already this story has spun away from me too quickly. "We believed him to be an ally. You found during he war that he had been giving money to the rebels."

Harry stills beside me. "Why would he do that? His daughter is already queen of our country. He has access to everything he could possibly want."

I shake my head. "I do not know. Maybe to remove your family and increase his influence?"

He allows this with a tiny tilt of his head. "Problems with Spain are larger than a skirmish with a few rebels. This worries me."

"I know. That is likely the biggest issue you'll need to face upon your return."

He nods slowly as he considers this. And then he closes his eyes, squeezing them tight. "Aye. I know who she was." He presses his hands to his eyes, struggling. "I met her."

"Yes. You spent a year in Spain when you were young. You met her then."

"Thin," he says. "Small boned. Neither pretty nor plain."

"Yes," I tell him, watching as he struggles to pull the memory forth. "Do you recall her name?"

He sits up, rocking a little. "It is just there. . . I can see her face . . ." He opens his eyes, looking at me for help.