No Fury

Now: Fifty Six

A/N: Update number two today because you're all so kind to vote, comment, and tell your friends about this story. Your messages and tweets mean so much to me. Really, thank you. I know you're all eager for Harry to return, but I can't rush the story! Even when it gets rough, you need to trust me! ~Spark

~~

Weeks pass, with no word about Harry, Liam, or the rest of the army.

Not even Zayn, after routinely eavesdropping on the Council, knows whether they sent word to the King, or are simply waiting out the war.

Zayn and I meet daily, at the noon hour where the creek grows from a small trickle into a rush, and he passes along everything he knows.

Sadly, it is very little: Maria remains alive in the tower. Douglas has been removed from the Council. The castle is quiet - a mass of guards and servants and not many more.

Every day we meet, and every day I struggle to not scream to the sky with frustration that there is no news of Harry.

I also watch with joy and sorrow as Anne grows bigger each day. Already Harry has missed her first dimpled smile, her neck growing strong enough to hold up her head, her tiny, happy sounds.

They are but small milestones, I tell myself. Her entire life is ahead of her, and ahead of us.

So when I see Zayn walking toward my cottage at dusk one day, my heart soars at the prospect of news. And then, from behind him, a somber soldier steps out of the brush.

My hysteria bubbles up and out of me, a tight gasp like steam held under pressure. I take an involuntary step backward, whispering, "No, no, no."

With hands outstretched, Zayn approaches, bidding me to remain calm. "Catie, don't."

"What is it?" I ask, grappling behind me for something to hold onto before slowly sinking to the ground and pointing to the soldier. "Why is he here?"

My mother comes up behind me, asking in a quietly controlled whisper, "Catie? What is happening?"

"We do not know, Catie," Zayn babbles. "We do not know."

In an instant, my heart is too big for my chest. It pounds too harshly. Or maybe it has stopped beating entirely, and the drumming inside me is the last spasms of consciousness.

"Don't know what?" I ask.

Zayn looks helplessly to the man at his side, who crouches before me.

I can barely draw breath.

"Lady Cathryn," he says gently.

I do not hear the rest of it. I fall to the side.

~~

When I wake, my head is in Zayn's lap in my parents' home. Mother and Da pace the floor and Mary sits, mutely holding Anne near the hearth, staring straight ahead.

None of my family will look at me. But the soldier stares down at my face, eyes clear.

"Is Harry dead?" I ask in a terrified whisper. The words come out thin, choked off. "Is that what you've come here to tell me?"

He shakes his head. "No, my Lady."

I push to sit, blinking away the dizziness. Zayn makes to steady me, but I gently resist his handling. "I am all right. Please, tell me."

The soldier sits in a wooden chair across from us, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Two weeks past, the Council sent word by horseman to the King. The King knew of Spain's involvement in the war, of course, but not the rest of it. In the letter, the King was informed that the Queen had betrayed his father, leading to his assassination and that of his four guards."