Dead Flowers - AU Sequel to The Birth of Grace

[eiahmon]

Title: Dead Flowers
Rating: R for RAPE, M/M SLASH, and MPREG. Don't say I didn't warn you!
Disclaimer: I don't own Marluxia or his alter ego. Wish I did though.
Summary: AU to the ending of “The Birth of Grace.” Marluxia is cold, cruel, conniving, and manipulative, everything Lumaria is not. What would have happened if the Heartlesss had not shown up when they had, and if Lumaria developed some of his Nobody's traits?

Send me dead flowers at my wedding, and I won't forget to put roses on your grave.
“Dead Flowers”
The Rolling Stones

Lumaria moaned as he began to surface from the depths of sleep. Two things became apparent to him quickly; he was sore in places that he had never been sore before, and there was a warm body pressed up against him with its arms around him. Knowing what he was about to see, but dreading it all the same, he forced himself to open his eyes and look around.

He was the bedroom that he had used since his early childhood, and the room was dark. The windows were open, allowing the night breeze to carry in the delicate scent of the cherry blossoms from the castle garden below into the room. He was lying in bed, covered only by a thin sheet, and he was naked underneath it. His pink hair was matted and tangled, and the sour smells of sweat and sex tickled his nose, overriding the cherry blossoms.

Beside him lay his – Lumaria couldn't help how his lip curled in disgust at the mere thought – soon to be husband. The man was also naked, lying on top of the sheet, and his arms were holding Lumaria tight, preventing him from wiggling away. Lumaria stared at him, and memories of the previous night came trickling back to him, much as he didn't want them to: Dahlia's death, being carried screaming through town, being tied down to his bed, the spells to make him capable of bearing a child being cast, and then...

Lumaria wrenched his head away and dry heaved off the edge of the bed as he remembered what the bastard sleeping next to him had done. He remembered screaming in pain and denial, struggling futilely against the chains that restrained him as he felt his parents' eyes staring at him in disapproval, and that bastard.... He shuddered in remembered horror and tried to get out of those embracing arms, but they only pulled him closer. He shuddered again and cried out softly as tears burned in his blue eyes.

It was then that he realized that since the first spell cast upon him had succeeded, then it stood to reason that the second, the fertility spell, had also worked, which meant chances were good that he was pregnant with the bastard's child. A sob broke free, and he began to cry. It wasn't fair! He hadn't wanted any of this!

The bastard mumbled something in his sleep, pulled Lumaria closer, and one of his hands began to stroke his tangled hair. The false gesture of affection only seemed to make him cry harder, but no one came to check on him, no one knocked softly at the door and asked if he was alright, like they would have before. Alone in the dark room with the monster that had raped him with his parents' permission, Lumaria sobbed out his misery and grief, and no one ever came.

******

When asked, Lumaria could remember little of the wedding that took place on the following day, his sixteenth birthday. He recited his vows to be faithful to his husband, to obey him, to be a good wife, in a monotone without even really being aware of what he was saying. He picked at his food at the wedding feast, and was silently grateful when he was able to escape to bed early due to his “delicate condition”. One of the male servants in the castle had been assigned to carry him to bed, since he was under orders from the court physician to never walk, and he was allowed to sit in chairs for short periods only.

His attendants, all of which were women since he had been raised to be a lady wife, removed his wedding robes, which were one step away from being a full on dress, took down his hair from the elaborate knot it had been styled in, dressed him in his nightshirt, and tucked him into bed under the clean sheets and blankets. All but one - his old nurse - left the room, and she would stay near him in case he needed anything. When his – his stomach churned at the thought – husband was around, she would leave.

Physically tired, mentally exhausted, but unable to sleep, Lumaria laid in his darkened bedroom, listening to the servant shifting in her chair and was grateful that the physician had dictated that he sleep alone so not to disturb his unborn child and risk losing the pregnancy. At least then, he wouldn't have to share a bed with the bastard. It was bad enough that he would have to endure... that every day to keep the spells maintaining the pregnancy going.

If only he and Dahlia had been able to run away together. He honestly didn't know where they would have gone; the world was small, and they would have been found eventually, but it would have been nice to have escaped for a little while.

Dahlia, his only friend, the only one that cared about Lumaria as a person instead of as the royal heir, a baby maker, and a way to climb to the top of the social ladder. And she was gone. Gone from his life, gone from the world. Had her parents found her body yet? Had she been left in the field to rot? Or had her head been impaled on the spikes of the gates like the castle gardeners'? He would have to find out. Traitors and those executed for consorting with those above their station were never given proper funerals, but if he was able to order it to be so, and his father or husband didn't countermand it, then at least he could see that she was taken care of. It was the least he could for the one who had given him the happiness that had otherwise been denied.

His chest hitched, and tears scalded his eyes as he thought of her and all the things they used to do; he remembered harvesting the wheat on her family's farm, sparring with scythes, sitting under the stars and talking about what shapes they saw. More tears fell, and he began to sob quietly into his pillow. He was only vaguely aware of the sound of his nurse getting up from her chair and approaching the bed. A second later, she sat down on the mattress beside him and gently began to stroke his hair.

“Lumaria,” she said softly, using his name instead of his title, which she had not done since he was ten “you must rest, child. You have another life besides your own that needs to be cared for. Things will get better, little one, I promise.” He reached out and clasped her other hand in both of his own, clinging to her and the comfort she offered as he cried himself to sleep.

******

In the morning, Lumaria was awakened rudely by his husband pulling the blankets away from him. He closed his eyes and nearly bit through his bottom lip trying to keep silent as the bastard did his part to “support the pregnancy”, and he was relieved beyond all measure when he left the room immediately after. His nurse carefully cleaned him up, straightened out his nightshirt, tucked him back under his blankets and sat with him so he could get a few more hours sleep.

“You need the rest.” was all she said on the matter, and he smiled gratefully at her and dozed off.

Later in the morning, he was allowed to sit up in bed, and the physician, as well as the mage that had cast the spells, checked on him and informed him that so far, everything was going well. He smiled weakly at them as they stood to depart, but the smile abruptly vanished when his husband walked in as they were leaving. Right behind him came a few servants with breakfast, and Lumaria felt his heart sink when he realized that the bastard was going to eat with him. He kept his eyes averted as he picked at the meal that had been placed on a tray across his legs, but a sudden painfully tight grip on his chain made him look up into his husband's furious face.

“Who am I, Lumaria?” he spat in a low voice, but Lumaria was too surprised by the question to answer. The grip on his chin tightened until he yelped in pain. “Answer me! Who am I, Lumaria?”

“You are my husband!” he cried “Let go! You're hurting me!”

Instead of letting go, the man only tightened his grip, until Lumaria felt that his jaw would break from the pressure. “That is correct. I am your husband, and you are my wife, which makes you the submissive partner and me the dominate partner in this marriage, which means you will do as I say, and I want you to act like a wife should and not like a frightened mouse!” With that he shoved Lumaria away from him with such force that he nearly tumbled from the bed. He managed to catch himself on the bedpost just in time, but the breakfast tray wasn't so fortunate, and it fell to the floor. The breaking of the dishes attracted the servants, who came running as his husband strode out of the room. They carefully picked up the broken crockery and spilled food, while his nurse helped him sit back up in bed and smoothed out the blankets.

“I'm so sorry.” he sobbed as they cleaned up “I didn't mean for him to do that.” They assured him that it was alright and no trouble, and once they had gone with a promise to bring him another plate of breakfast, his nurse sat down beside him and drew him into her arms. He stiffened at first but then relaxed and laid his head on her shoulder and allowed her to stroke his hair and coo nonsense words to him like she had when he was a small boy frightened by the thunder outside.

They sat that way for a few minutes before an anxious knock forced them to separate. She stood up from the bed as Lumaria bade the visitor to enter, and the physician stepped in, followed by the mage.

“I heard you nearly fell out of bed.” the first said as the second cast spell after spell to check on the condition of the pregnancy “You should be more careful, my lord. You are in a very delicate condition right now, and it would be very easy for you to lose the baby.”

Lumaria only nodded miserably and didn't bother to say that he had nearly been shoved out of bed, not fallen. His nurse kept silent as rules dictated, and after confirming that the pregnancy was stable and the tiny life was unharmed, they departed. Not long after, his attendants appeared with another plate of breakfast, which, without the noxious presence of his husband, he was able to eat. He was then laid down for a nap, which he did, desperate for any sort of escape from his reality.

******

Spending his days and nights in bed, with only occasional visits to a chair in his private sitting room, and with little to do but read and think, Lumaria slowly passed the days and months of his pregnancy. In the second month, despite his protests, and on the orders of his father, the gender spells were cast on his unborn child, but they did nothing. He was already carrying a girl, and his parents immediately started to make plans to have her betrothed. Lumaria vehemently protested the decision, and to his surprise, the physician backed him up, citing that, with the high risks associated with male pregnancy, that it was a possibility that the child may not make it to term. His parents grudgingly conceded, and all betrothal plans were put off until after the child was born.

Lumaria still had to deal with the daily visits from his husband, and he had asked the mage during a check up if sexual contact with the father really was necessary, and he had been crushed when he was told that yes, it was. They did not know why, but the chances of the pregnancy making it to term were much higher with it than they were without it. Of course his husband learned that he had asked, and the man's anger left him with bruises on his arms and face, but he had ordered the servants to say nothing. Accusing a member of the royal household of abusing the heir, even if it was true, could result in execution, and Lumaria had no desire to see someone else beheaded because of him.

He also learned that the servants had done as he asked, and buried Dahlia secretly on her family's land. Only they and her parents knew where she was, but they promised to show him as soon as he was able to leave his bed, for which he was grateful, and he told them so. He had heard rumors floating around the castle that she had only been out to use him to climb the social ladder, but he knew that was untrue. If anyone was doing that, it was the bastard that his parents had married him off to.

Granted since his husband was not of royal blood, he could never ascend to the throne and would never rise higher than prince consort. Once Lumaria's father passed away, Lumaria himself would hold all the power....

Wait....

Only those of direct royal lineage could ascend to the throne, and Lumaria knew that while his husband was nobility, he was of no relation to the royal line. Sooner or later, Lumaria's father would pass away or become too old and sick to rule, and all of that meant that one day, Lumaria himself would hold all of the power.

As he dropped off to sleep that night, a seed of an idea was planted. It was just a tiny seed, but out of a single seed, forests can grow. He need only to bide his time, and time was something that he had plenty of.

******

Lumaria threw his head back against the pillow and screamed as the contraction tore through him. Gentle hands smoothed his sweat soaked hair from his forehead, but he paid no mind to them as he tried to push a baby out of an opening that he swore was much, much too small. The process of childbirth had been explained to him, and he had also been warned that it took longer for men since the male body was never intended for such a thing, but the dry facts were in no way adequate preparation for the reality.

“I see the head!” the court physician announced from his position between Lumaria's legs, and someone somewhere assured him that it was nearly over. The words were no comfort to him as another contraction came, and he pushed with everything he had, screaming through his clenched teeth. He didn't care about anything else at that point; he just wanted the baby out of him, the sooner the better! The contraction then ended, and he sagged back into the mattress, breathing heavily from the effort. For the first time in months, he felt something other than disdain and anger for his mother, as he realized that she had gone through the same thing with him. Of course the tiny flicker of sympathy was not enough to erase what she had allowed to be done to him, and oh that hurt!

Lumaria screamed again as the contraction destroyed his train of thought, and he pushed hard as his hands clenched the sheets hard enough to tear them.

“Almost done, my lord!” the physician called out, and Lumaria managed a tired nod as the contraction ended, and he went limp upon the bed again. His water had broken overnight, and it had been a long wait for hard labor to begin. He had heard whispers that if it took any longer, then they were going to cut him open to take the baby out that way, and he had been very happy that it hadn't been necessary. Of course, he had also heard his parents asking how long they had to wait before he could be impregnated again, which had not helped his mood as the hard labor began.

They want me to do this again! His mind screeched as he pushed with the next contraction. He knew that outside his room, his parents and husband were waiting for word, and he was glad that they were not allowed inside until the birth was over. His mother had wanted to be in there with him, but he had demanded, and gotten, her banished from the room. The decision to marry him off to another man and force him to carry a child may have been his father's decision, but he was fully aware that not once had she protested it or tried to change her husband's mind, even as it became obvious to everyone that her son was miserable.

“One last push, my lord.” the physician said encouragingly, and with one last breathless scream, Lumaria pushed and felt his daughter being gently pulled out of him. He collapsed back onto the ruined sheets, exhausted, and a cup of water was held to his lips for him to sip. A few seconds later, a baby's cries filled the room, and he raised his head to see her being cleaned up as her cord was cut. She was then wrapped in a blanket the same shade of pink as his hair, and his attendants helped him sit up in bed so she could be placed in his arms. He held her awkwardly for a moment – the mage's spells gave him the ability to carry a child, but not the maternal instincts on how to hold and care for one – until someone showed him how to cradle her in his arms with her head resting in the crook of his elbow.

She was an ugly little thing, he noted, with red skin, eyes that were squeezed shut, and tiny wisps of pink hair on her head, but at the same time, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Yes, she was that bastard's child, but she was also his, and he was unprepared for the surge of emotions that he felt as he gazed into her tiny face. He barely noticed the lesser contractions that saw the delivery of the afterbirth as he watched the perfect little person that he was holding in his arms.

“My lord?” The physician's voice made him look up from his daughter, and he saw the man standing there with a pen and an official looking document in his hand; the birth certificate, he supposed. “What is her name?”

Lumaria looked back down at his daughter. He had given some thought to names, especially when his husband told him that he had no intention of naming their child, and his first thought had been to name her after his friend. But no, as much as he loved and missed Dahlia, he felt that giving his daughter that name would... curse her somehow. Plus he knew that his husband would be furious if he did so, and he tried to avoid being on the receiving end of the bastard's temper.

“Azalea.” he said softly as he held her close to him, and the physician nodded and wrote the name down. The wet nurse was then allowed into the room, and Lumaria reluctantly handed his precious bundle over to her to be fed. His servants helped him out of bed, and helped him walk, for the first time since he had become pregnant, to his private bath, where a steaming bath was waiting. He relaxed with a sigh into the hot water and allowed himself to be bathed by the servants, enjoying the feel of his first full on bath in months. Before he had been given sponge baths after his husband was done with him. He was then dried, dressed in a clean nightshirt and his dressing gown and bundled back into bed, which, it seemed, had a new mattress in addition to the new sheets and blankets. Azalea was returned to his arms, now dressed in her own tiny gown and socks in addition to her blanket, and his parents and husband were allowed into the room.

His mother held her arms out eagerly, but Lumaria only held his daughter closer and tried not to smirk at the crushed look on his mother's face. His father looked at Azalea for a long moment, and then he smiled in satisfaction.

“She will be a fine heir to carry on the royal line.” he announced “I will begin searching for a suitable husband for her on the morrow.”

“No.”

Everyone in the room turned at that single word and stared in shocked surprise.

“No.” Lumaria said again, looking up from his sleeping daughter to look his father in the eye, something that he had never been permitted to do “You will not find her a husband. If she is to be married, then I will find someone suitable for her.”

“Are you refusing my authority, Lumaria?” his father asked dangerously, and Lumaria lowered his gaze, realizing that he was on thin ice.

“No, my lord,” he said softly “but she is my child, and I wish to be responsible for that part of her life.”

So I can make sure she isn't saddled with a bastard like her father. He added mentally.

There was an endless silence and then: “Very well, I will allow you to do this, Lumaria, but you will see to it that she is betrothed, or I will handle it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

His father swept out of the room then, followed by his mother, and not long after the servants departed as well, leaving Lumaria alone with his daughter and husband. He could feel the bastard's eyes boring into him, and he held Azalea closer. The silence in the room grew oppressive, and Lumaria felt himself starting to shake, terrified at what the man might do, but then footsteps strode from the room, and the door slammed behind him. The loud noise startled Azalea awake, and the baby began to cry as Lumaria let out the breath that he had been holding.

******

A baby's soft cries roused Lumaria from his sleep. He groggily raised his head from his pillow and immediately realized that he was not alone in the bed. His husband was sleeping behind him, spooned up against him, and Lumaria groaned; no more pregnancy meant no more having the bed to himself. One of the bastard's arms was wrapped around his waist in a gesture of possession, but he was easily able to wiggle out of it and get out of bed. He slipped his dressing gown on over his night shirt and padded barefoot across the polished wood inlay floor to the door to the nursery that had been added a month before Azalea's birth. He eased the door open and poked his head in to see Azalea fussing in her bassinet while her nurse soothed her. He opened the door all the way and stepped in, and the quiet creaking of the hinges alerted the woman to his presence.

“Oh my lord,” she said quietly “I apologize. I didn't intend for her to wake you.”

Lumaria waved that away. “Is she alright?”

“She is fine, just a little fussy at the moment.”

“Has she been fed?”

“Yes, my lord, just a few moments ago.”

“Then go back to bed. I will stay with her.”

“Are you certain, my lord.”

“Yes, now go.”

The woman bowed her head. “As you wish, my lord.” She hurried out of the room to her own bed, and Lumaria walked up the bassinet and looked down at the fussy baby inside. The child noticed him standing there and gazed up at him in silence for a brief moment, before her eyes closed, and she began to cry again.

With a small sigh, Lumaria reached down and gently scooped her into his arms, and then he walked over to the nearby rocking chair and sat down. He had no idea what to do. How does one go about quieting a crying baby? Maybe he should have asked that before he sent the nurse from the room.

“Hush, little one.” he said softly, using the pet name that his nurse had used for him so many times “Go back to sleep.” Azalea ignored him, and, if anything, cried even louder. From the other room came the sound of his husband getting out of bed, and a moment later, he came through the door.

“Shut that brat up!” he hissed angrily, and then he seemed to realize who was holding her. “What are you doing in here, Lumaria?”

It should be obvious! Lumaria wanted to snap, but instead he averted his eyes as he had been raised to do. “I am holding our daughter.” he said quietly.

“Let the servants take care of her and come back to bed.” He leered, and Lumaria was barely able to repress a shudder. “We never were able to have a wedding night, and I would like to... rectify that.”

“We had it the night before.” Lumaria said sharper than he had intended “Or have you forgotten what you did to me?” The bastard's hand connected hard with his left cheek in a painful slap.

“Remember your place, Lumaria.” he said dangerously “I am your husband, and you will treat me as such.” With that he stormed from the room and slammed the nursery door, which only upset Azalea even more.

“Is everything alright, my lord?” came the nurse's voice from the other door into the room.

“Everything is fine, go back to bed.” He heard the door close, and only then did Lumaria allow himself to reach up and rub his stinging cheek. There was going to be a bruise there in the morning.

“Looks like it will be just you and me, Azalea.” he said softly, and to his surprise, the baby began to quiet at the sound of his voice. So he talked to her and cooed to her, and soon she was sleeping quietly in his arms. He smiled down at her, and it dawned on him then that he loved his daughter. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her tiny forehead. “I love you. I won't let that man hurt you.”

Lumaria frowned thoughtfully. His husband had shown that he had no trouble hitting someone that had angered him, and he had already shown that Azalea's crying angered him, which was completely stupid. Azalea was a baby; babies cried, even Lumaria knew that. If violence was how he fulfilled his obligations as a husband, how would he be as a father? No, he would never allow that bastard to raise a hand to their daughter.

In his mind, the tiny seed of an idea that had been planted months before began to grow.

Despite his husband's demand that he come back to bed, Lumaria spent the night in the nursery, in the rocking chair. Even when Azalea's nurse came to feed her next, Lumaria remained where he was, and eventually, he fell asleep there. He never noticed how the nurse smiled at him and covered him with a warm blanket before she returned to her own bed.

******

Lumaria's husband and parents were delighted at his sudden change in behavior and attitude. When asked, he simply stated that he decided that it was better to try and make the best of his marriage, especially since the two of them had a child to raise. Four days after Azalea's birth, once the spells had worn off, the new family was part of a parade celebrating the new royal heir, and Lumaria acted every bit the happy wife and mother, waving to the crowd with a smile on his face while he cradled Azalea in his other arm. Later he stood arm in arm with his husband while locals presented them with gifts for their daughter, and through it all he smiled like all in the world was perfect.

That night as they were readying for bed, his husband mentioned that since the spells had worn off, they couldn't have sex the normal way, but there was another method available to them. Lumaria knew what he was asking, and inwardly he cringed in pain, but outwardly, he nodded in agreement. It was oh so painful, but as he laid beneath his husband, crying out with every thrust as tears rolled down his face, he told himself that it would be worth it in the end. He had to convince everyone that he was happy and content, even if it meant doing things he didn't want to do. He had to fool everyone.

As much as he wished to, Lumaria never went to visit Dahlia's grave. Doing so could destroy the illusion that he was carefully building, and he couldn't afford that to happen. He did resume his daily visits to the castle garden, and he always took Azalea with him. The new gardeners steered clear of him as he pulled weeds and trimmed flowers, which suited him just fine. Instead he spoke to his daughter, whom he laid on a blanket on the soft grass next to him and occasionally tickled her chin with a flower that he had picked, which made her gurgle and wave her tiny hands at him. He was careful to keep her eager hands away from some of the plants in the garden which were poisonous, especially the deadly nightshade.

The pair also went for walks around town, with the royal guard hanging back with strict instructions from Lumaria to not act unless one of them was in clear danger. Lumaria used to opportunity to meet people from the working classes and hear what they had to say. Most of them lived comfortable lives, but they did have a few things to say once they were assured that Lumaria was not his father and would not have them beheaded for speaking their minds. They also paid visits to the local farmers and craftsmen, and one farm family was shocked when Lumaria passed Azalea off to the farmer's wife, rolled up his sleeves, and began to assist in readying their fields for planting. Soon Lumaria and Azalea were quite the popular pair among the working class, much more so than Lumaria's parents, who were practically never seen.

The seed of an idea was growing rapidly.

******

Azalea grew like a garden flower during summer rains, and to her mother she was the most beautiful thing in existence. When she was six months old, her grandfather demanded to know over dinner why she was not betrothed yet, to which Lumaria replied simply that he hadn't found anyone suitable enough yet.

“I've given you enough time, Lumaria.” the elder man stated “Find her a husband, or else.” Lumaria nodded in agreement, but all plans of betrothal vanished from the family's mind when the following night the ruling lord suddenly became violently ill. He had eaten his dinner, including a small berry pie, but not long afterward his wife noted that his eyes were dilated, his speech was slurred, and that he was staggering around like he was drunk and talking to people that only he could see, even though he had only had two glasses of wine with his meal.

He was taken to bed, where the court physician tried to ease his symptoms, but since no one knew the cause, it was decided that they would just have to run their course.

No one noticed Lumaria taking a few nightshade berries from his pocket and throwing them into the dining room fire. No one had seen him slip into the kitchen earlier and slip several of them into the then unbaked pie that was meant for his father. He knew the dose wasn't high enough to kill the man, but it would be more than enough to make him think of other things than betrothing his granddaughter for a while. Because no one was going to force Azalea into the same situation that Lumaria was trapped in.

******

When Azalea was 15 months old, her father decided that he wanted the spells cast on Lumaria again so they could try for a son. Lumaria had no desire to carry another child, but, in keeping with the illusion of a happy wife and mother that he was projecting, he agreed, and the spells were cast. The child was conceived immediately and more spells confirmed that he was carrying a son. This put a slight kink in his plans, but he made the best of it, reading books to Azalea and telling her stories about all the things he had Dahlia had done – when no one was around to hear of course. Gifts from the townspeople began arriving at the castle for him once word of his pregnancy got out, which delighted him. It showed him that his plan was working.

Azalea's father refused to have anything to do with her, which also suited Lumaria just fine, but he did show his displeasure at his wife spending so much time with her, but since child rearing was a womanly pursuit, he couldn't really say anything about it other than grumbles once the couple was in bed for the night. Grumbles which Lumaria always ignored, because Azalea having no relationship with her father fit into his plans nicely.

Three months into his pregnancy, Lumaria was sitting up in bed, 18 month old Azalea snuggled against him, as he read out loud to her from the book he had a servant fetch him from the library. His little flower was a picture of beauty, with her soft pink hair, eyes that were a brilliant blue-green, and rosy cheeks. She only had a vocabulary of about a dozen words – her first had been “Mama” which had reduced Lumaria to tears upon hearing it – but she was well versed in using tone and body language to get her point across. He was pointing out the pictures to her and smiling at her attempts to say the new words between giggles when the door opened, and her father strode in.

Lumaria looked up from the book, ignoring Azalea's attempts to get him to start reading again (Which included small tugs on his shoulder length hair and an insistent “Mama, book!”), and one look at his husband told him that things were about to get ugly.

“Azalea out,” the man said abruptly “Your mother can read to you later.” Azalea looked up at her father; the man practically never spoke her to, but Lumaria spoke before she could even begin to get down from the bed.

“She doesn't have to leave.” he said “Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of her. Then I would like you to leave. You're interrupting her story time.”

Lumaria had just enough time to realize that he had made a mistake as the man's eyes filled with sudden rage, and he strode forward and snatched Azalea off the bed by her arm.

“Stop!” Lumaria yelled “You're going to hurt her! What are you doing?” The bastard ignored him as he carried the screaming child to the door and unceremoniously tossed her out into the hall before slamming the door shut and locking it. He then turned back to Lumaria, who shrank back into his pillows in terror.

A hard slap sent his head snapping to the right, as the bastard yanked the blankets away and grasped Lumaria's nightshirt by the collar and tore it open.

“What-why?” Lumaria sputtered in shock. Why was the man so angry?

“It seems my dear wife,” the bastard snarled as he finished tearing the nightshirt open “that you have forgotten that I am your husband, and you are my wife. You do not order me to leave the room, you do not tell me what to do! When I tell you to put the book down and send the brat out of the room, that it what you will do! It looks like you need a reminder!”

Lumaria's eyes widened in horror; oh no, this bastard was not going to rape him again! He raised both hands and tried to push the man off of him, but his husband was much stronger and heavier than him, and it was like trying to move a mountain. So he pressed his legs together, crosses his ankles and did the only thing he could do.

He screamed for help.

Another hard slap rocked his head to the side. “Stop screaming and stop fighting me!” Another slap, and then a fist connected hard with the side of his face. Lumaria stopped screaming abruptly, dazed and in pain, and his husband took that opportunity to push his legs apart, but before he could go any further, he was interrupted.

The door slammed open, and the servants ran in. Snarling in rage at the interruption, Lumaria's husband shoved him hard, which sent him tumbling to the floor. The impact knocked him out of his daze, and he began to cry as he was gently picked up and placed back on the bed by one of the servants.

“Azalea,” he asked through his tears as he heard someone shouting for the physician 'Where is she? Is she alright?” A warm hand clasped his own, and he looked up to see Azalea's nurse standing there, with Azalea safely in her arms. He reached out to his daughter, and the woman carefully placed the child on the bed beside him.

“Mama,” she sobbed, and Lumaria gathered her to him and let her cry into his hair.

He didn't notice it at first; the faint tickle of something running down his inner thigh, but when he did, he reached a shaking hand down and touched the fluid that he could feel down there. Praying silently – Let it be sweat! - but knowing with a sinking heart what it really was, he pulled his hand back and confirmed his fears.

Blood.

A few seconds later, the baby that he had been carrying began to feel like a rock in his belly, and then he began to cramp. By the time the physician arrived, Lumaria knew that it was too late; his son was gone. Barely an hour later, the three month old life that he had planned to name Ralium was delivered six months too soon. He clung to Azalea during the entire ordeal, refusing to allow her to be taken from him, and he kept his eyes closed as someone stroked his hair as he cried himself to sleep.

******

After the miscarriage, Lumaria moved his plans up a bit. No one, not his parents, not the physician, and certainly not his husband, said a word on what had caused Ralium's loss, which only drove him to finalize things quicker. No, they insisted that it was just one of those things, that male pregnancy always carried a high risk of miscarriage and premature birth. Everyone ignored the bruises on Lumaria's face from being struck repeatedly or the fact that it was his screams that had alerted the servants to a problem. They also ignored the bruises on Azalea's arm from being carelessly picked up and flung out of the room by it.

It was that last fact, more than anything else, that drove Lumaria onwards. Abusing him was bad enough, but no one laid a hand on his daughter. Or his son.

Miscarriages were often thrown out with the trash, but an appeal to the servants saw Ralium's tiny little body buried secretly in the garden, his grave unknown to everyone but to his mother and to the one that had buried him. If anyone noticed that Lumaria often paused at that spot, no one said anything.

Three months after Ralium's loss, Lumaria's father sickened again, with the same symptoms he had displayed a year before. The last time, he had recovered in a few days, but this time, his illness dragged on, until it was clear that he wouldn't be able to rule for quite a while, if ever.

Crown Prince Lumaria was named regent in his stead, and he began to execute his plans in earnest. His popularity with the working class stood him in good stead with them, and that popularity skyrocketed when he remembered all the things they had told him during his visits. He eased the trade restrictions on their goods and lowered their taxes. When the noble families complained that doing so would lower the revenue generated the maintain the roads and such, he conceded that they were right – and promptly raised the taxes on them.

Lumaria had noticed something interesting during long hours of boring social events as a child. The noble families did very little. They controlled vast amounts of money, and large parts of various industries, but all they did was hold the purse strings. It was the skilled labor working under them that kept the works going. If anything, they seemed to be responsible for many of the financial woes of the lower classes by controlling price wars to suit their needs. He remembered clearly that his husband's father had once bragged that he had completely ruined a local tailor for not getting decorative embroidery exactly right.

No, the real power was with the working class, those whose hard work made the economy go 'round. If the noble families were wiped out to the last, the sudden influx of cash would hurt things a bit in the short term, but in the long term, nothing would change. However, if the working class was lost, the world's economy would collapse in mere days.

It was definitely time for some change.

After the issue with the taxes was done, Lumaria's husband had cornered him in their bedroom. Lumaria had allowed himself to be slapped around, but he refused to change things with the taxes. He was the ruling lord in all but name, and no one had the authority to order him around any more. His husband had stormed off, angry but secure in the knowledge that when the lord recovered, things would go back to normal and that Lumaria would be punished for his insolence.

But the lord didn't recover, and the physician was at a loss as to what was causing the man's illness. As his health spiraled downwards, his son was making sweeping changes. The next thing the he changed was that property and businesses could only be passed down to sons. The noble families screamed in pain, but the working class cheered at the news. Many business and homes had been lost when there hadn't been a son to pass them on to. He also decreed that they would have access to the gender spells if needed, which before had been only for the noble and royal families.

It was why the royal family had so many female servants. They had two families that had been serving them for generations, and the gender spells were used to ensure that there was always a steady supply of women to be maids, nurses, and attendants. They were the only commoners that were allowed to use the spells, but who and when was dictated by the ruling lord, which was another thing that Lumaria planned to change. He felt that the family life of the servants was really none of his concern. If they wanted a son instead of a daughter or vice-versa, who was he to tell them no?

“What are you doing, Lumaria?” his husband demanded one night as they were readying for bed “What are you thinking?”

Lumaria ignored the questions as he brushed out his hair before getting into bed, and he allowed the bastard to have his way with him, even though his touch made his skin crawl. He knew exactly what he was doing. His plan hinged on four things.

One, that a member of the royal house that wasn't a member of the royal line could never ascend to the throne, regardless of who they were married to. The only exception to this was that a non royal could rule as regent if they were married to or the guardian of, a royal, but only if there were no other members of the royal family to do so.

Two, a woman could ascend to the throne provided that there is no close male heir.

Three, that the working class hold him and Azalea with respect and affection, so when he began pulling the world down around the nobles' ears, they couldn't risk touching him without a revolt that would destroy the economy and their comfortable lives.

Four, that everyone believe that he was happily married, so when things began to happen to his husband, no one would suspect that he was responsible.

Lumaria's mother was from an offshoot of the royal line, but she could not rule in her husband's stead as long as Lumaria existed. There were plenty of men and boys in her family, but none of them were close enough to gain the throne, which meant that other than Lumaria, Azalea was the only heir. The working class loved him already, and things that he was changing in their favor just made them love him even more. It helped that he had shown on multiple occasions that he was not averse to rolling up his sleeves and working where help was needed. The last part was the most difficult. He hated his husband with a freezing passion, but he had to make everyone believe that he loved the bastard, so when he dropped dead, no one would look his way. At least running the world allowed him to spend as little time with him as possible, though he still made time to read and play with Azalea every day. His daughter would not grow up raised by servants like he had.

******

By the time Azalea turned three, her grandfather was so ill that many had given up all hope of his recovery. No one had managed to figure out what exactly was wrong with him, and that was because Lumaria was very careful on how he dosed the man with the deadly poison of the nightshade. Berries dropped into pies, juices squeezed into wine, tiny bits of the leaves slipped into food; he was very careful not to be seen by anyone, which was one of the reason why it had taken so long for the man to get so sick. There were some days where he just wasn't able to do the deed without being seen. The other reason was that he needed the man to suffer an extended illness, so when he finally died, there would be no autopsy or investigation.

Finally, one freezing winter's night, Lumaria decided it was time. He silently made his way through the dimly lit halls to his father's room, and after making sure no servants were about, slipped inside. The physician had dictated that the man sleep alone, so not to disturb his rest, so Lumaria didn't have to worry about his mother. By the light of a fire roaring in the fireplace, he could see his father's still form lying on the bed under the blankets, and he quietly shut the door, locked it, and then approached the bed.

The man's eyes fluttered open when Lumaria climbed up onto the mattress and knelt down beside him. but he said nothing. He'd long ago lost the ability to speak.

“Hello, Father.” Lumaria said quietly, and the man's eyes focused on him “I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here, and the answer is simple. I've come to put an end to you.” The man's eyes widened slightly, and Lumaria chuckled. “Oh come now, you can't tell me that you didn't see this coming. You treated me like a means to an end as a child, allowed me to be raped, married me to a man that beats me and caused me to lose my son, and it never crossed your mind that I might get vengeance? I hate you; I despise your very existence, and your death will make things much, much easier for me. Once you are taken care of, next will be the bastard you married me to. Once he is gone, then I will have my vengeance for myself, Azalea, Ralium, and Dahlia. You know, Dahlia, that commoner that I bedded like a whore? The one that the royal guard beheaded, on your orders, I found out later?” Lumaria shook his head slightly. “No matter, it's done now, and soon enough, so shall you be.”

With that, he carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out the single nightshade leaf that he had saved before the garden had gone dormant. The leaf was dried, but it would still serve it's purpose well. He held the leaf up so his father could see it.

“This, my dear father,” he said “is a single leaf from the Deadly Nightshade plant, also known as Belladonna. I'm sure you're aware that's it's poisonous, especially since I've been slipping bits of berries and juice from it into your food and drink for months, but I'm also sure you don't know just how poisonous it is. Why, eating this entire leaf would be more than enough to kill you.” With that, he pried the man's mouth open and shoved the leaf in as far back as he could. He then held his mouth shut and stroked his throat with the other, just like he had when Azalea was reluctant to swallow her food. A second later, he felt the man gulp the leaf down, and a quick check of his mouth confirmed that it was gone.

“Goodbye Father.” he said evenly as he stepped down to the floor “I will take good care of the world after you are gone.” With a satisfied smile, he walked out of the room and back to his own, where he climbed into bed with his sleeping husband. Not even the bastard's arm looping around him possessively could wipe the smile off of his face.

One down, one to go.

******

The world mourned their lost lord, at least for a short while. He hadn't been well liked among the working class, so it was with great fanfare that Lumaria, now 20, ascended to the throne after the one week mourning period. Azalea was named Crown Princess, and her father became the Prince Consort. Despite his new position, Lumaria knew that he would still have to deal with the abuse from his husband, for doing anything about it would announce that things weren't as good in the marriage as he wanted people to believe. Even the servants were mostly ignorant; his husband was careful to be violent only when they were alone, and few remembered Ralium's loss. Those that did never spoke of it.

Still Lumaria knew that he had to tread carefully in planning his husband's death. Just because so few of the servants were there to witness what caused him to miscarry didn't mean that they wouldn't speak of it if something were to happen to arouse their suspicions. Even a lord could be executed for murder, which would leave Azalea at the mercy of the noble families, who would have her betrothed and her future husband ruling as regent before she was fully out of diapers. Once she was old enough to take the throne, her husband would be pulling the strings, controlling her like a puppet, and Lumaria would be damned if he was going to let that happen to his little girl.

So he bided his time, dealt with the physical abuse and the bastard's seemingly insatiable sex drive at times, and waited for the right moment.

While he waited, he continued tilting things in the direction of the working class, and he and Azalea continued their visits to the townsfolk, who were always happy to see them. Azalea even made a few friends among the local children, and Lumaria was just content to sit nearby and watch her play, thrilled that she was getting the childhood that he had been denied.

The grumblings from the noble families continued, but they showed no sign of acting on their anger. Only Lumaria's in-laws really said anything, and it was merely to ask his husband if he could do anything to bring their new lord under control before he destroyed life as they knew it. Upon hearing that, Lumaria had locked himself in his room and had the best laugh of his life. Life as they knew it, indeed. And he was just getting started!

Azalea knew her father's family, of course, but she didn't like them. They expected her to act the same way that her mother had been raised to, which meant keeping eyes down, speaking softly, and no boisterous play, and their disapproval at how she was being raised upset her so much that by the time she was four, she refused to see them. Lumaria was more than happy to indulge her on that.

It was also at that age that Azalea began her formal schooling. Before her first lesson, Lumaria had pulled the tutor aside and told him in no uncertain terms was he to restrict his daughter. If she showed interest in science and medicine – fields restricted to men – then that is what he would teach her. The tutor had been surprised but had quickly agreed. Azalea could already read a little, a by product of being read to so much, but she found him in the garden after her first lesson, bursting with enthusiasm about all the new things she had learned. The two had sat down on a stone bench under the cherry trees, and Lumaria had been unable to keep the smile off of his face as his listened to his child chatter away.

As he tucked her into bed that night after her bath, he supposed she was one thing he could thank his father and bastard of a husband for. She was the one that was keeping him going, and everything he was doing, he was doing for her.

“G'night Mama,” she mumbled sleepily as he smoothed some of her pink locks away from her face “I love you.”

“I love you too, Azalea.” he whispered as he leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek “Sleep well.”

******

Just after Azalea turned six, her father began making noises about getting her betrothed. Sitting at his desk in his office, with his back to his husband, Lumaria had frowned in sudden anger. He had already swore that when the time came for Azalea to marry, it would be because she had found the one she wanted to spend her life with, not because an heir was needed.

His husband had started to become a problem. He wanted Azalea betrothed, he wanted Lumaria to stop overturning laws that favored men over women, he wanted to have a son that could inherit the throne, he wanted Lumaria to stop changing things in favor of the working class, etc, etc. Lumaria was getting quite tired of listening to him. He was also tired of being hit and punched whenever he did something that the bastard disagreed with. So far, Azalea had no idea that her father regularly beat her mother, and Lumaria never wanted her to know, but it was only a matter of time until she walked in on them. She had been moved from the nursery to her own rooms, but she still wandered into her parents' rooms on occasion, especially if she was ill, lonely, bored, or frightened.

Yes, it was time for Lumaria to be rid of his husband.

He planned everything perfectly. It was a well known fact around the castle and nearby town that the man loved two things: wine and hot baths. He especially loved combining the two. So one night after reading Azalea her bedtime story and tucking her in, Lumaria went down to the wine cellar to fetch a bottle of his husband's favorite red, followed by a stop at the kitchen for two glasses. He then returned to his rooms to find, as usual, his husband was soaking in the massive tub. He then carefully retrieved a tiny packet of yellowish green powder from where he had hid it earlier, which he then secreted in the pockets of his dressing gown.

Steeling himself – This is for Ralium, he told himself – he opened the bathroom door and stepped in, careful to close it behind him. His husband looked at him suspiciously, but then his eyes landed on the bottle of wine and the two glasses, and a lecherous smile stretched across his face. Lumaria carefully set the items down on the side of the stone tub, and slowly removed his dressing gown and night shirt, trying not to shiver at the appreciative looks his husband was giving him as he did so. Once he was naked, he gingerly stepped into the steaming water, and as he expected, his husband wasted no time in going for the wine. A glass for each of them was poured, and Lumaria only lightly sipped his, while his husband downed his in nearly one gulp. A second glass was quickly poured, and Lumaria smirked inwardly in triumph as the idiot drained that one as well. After a third glass, the bastard set the glass down, reached across the tub, and pulled Lumaria onto his lap. Lumaria felt his skin crawl like it always did whenever the bastard touched him, but he ruthlessly repressed it. He was here for a reason.

After a quick lovemaking session that saw water splashed everywhere, he offered his husband a fourth glass of wine, careful to sit the bottle on the floor instead of the tub after it was poured, which was quickly downed, as well as a fifth. They still had half of the bottle left. To his annoyance, the bastard looked like he was ready to get out of the tub, so Lumaria practically threw himself on top of him, to which the idiot laughed, and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. More sex followed the kiss, which was followed by even more wine. Lumaria was careful to drink down his single glass, so not to arouse suspicion later, and he watched in satisfaction as his husband's eyelids began to droop, and his words began to slur. Now for the finishing touch.

He leaned over the edge of the tub to the nearly empty bottle, and reached into the folds of his dressing gown and pulled out the small packet that he had secreted earlier. He carefully tore it open, and, hoping that his husband was too drunk to notice the pungent odor of mature cheese, dumped the powered valerian root extract into his husband's wine glass, followed by the last of the wine. He swirled it around with his finger for a moment before he turned back to his husband and offered the glass to him. Like he suspected, the bastard drank it down immediately, and Lumaria nearly crowed in triumph.

Instead he only leaned in close and whispered two words so softly that only the two of them could hear:

“For Ralium.”

The bastard's eyes widened in sudden horrified understanding, but he did not move as Lumaria stood up from the water and stepped out of the tub. He couldn't. Valerian root is a potent sedative, and while overdosing on it resulted in little more than a heavy sleep, it, combined with the alcohol and the warm water, which just happened to be deep enough to drown in, would be more than enough to get the job done. Lumaria dried himself, redressed himself in his nightshirt and dressing gown, and then went to bed, nearly breathless with excitement that things were falling into place. Just to be on the safe side, he had left himself a smaller packet of the root extract under his pillow, which he quickly swallowed to ensure that he slept instead of lying awake all night. As the root did its work, he couldn't keep the smile off of his face.

Things were working out perfectly.

In the morning when he emerged from the depths of sleep, Lumaria looked over his shoulder to see that the bed behind him was empty and cold, like it hadn't been slept in. Trying not to act too eager, he threw the blankets back, put his dressing gown on, and padded into the bathroom.

There in the tub, cold and lifeless under the water, was the bastard that his parents had married him to. Lumaria allowed himself a moment to indulge in his triumph, but no more than that, and then he began shouting for help. Even as the servants came running and Lumaria forced himself to whip up some tears and act distraught and shocked, inside he was cheering.

He finally had vengeance, for himself, for Azalea, Ralium, and for Dahlia.

******

Dressed in his formal clothes, 32 year old Lumaria watched as his daughter's attendants fussed with her hair and dress one last time before they stepped back. She turned to look at him, and her bright blue-green eyes were alight with happiness and excitement. It was the day after her seventeenth birthday, and Azalea was getting married. He stepped forward and offered his arm with a proud smile.

“Shall we, my dear?” he asked, and she smiled back at him.

“Yes, Mama, it's time to get married.”

After her father's tragic (Lumaria snickered inwardly every time he heard that.) death when she was six, Lumaria found himself filing the dual roles of mother and father to his only child. The circumstances of her conception and birth had been explained to her (Aside from the fact that she had been conceived by what was essentially a rape. She never needed to know that particular piece of information.), and she never stopped referring to Lumaria as “Mama” with “Mother” being used for formal occasions. It never seemed to bother anyone; it was well known among the people that their ruling lord had carried and borne his daughter himself. It was also well known that Azalea's father had died when she was very young, and so she had been raised solely by their lord from age six.

Which is why no one batted an eye when Lumaria walked her down the isle to where her soon to be husband was waiting. The young man was one of Azalea's friends that she had met when still a toddler, and he was apprenticing under one of the town's physicians, and he was, in Lumaria's opinion, a fine young man that would treat his little girl right. The skies above help him if he didn't.

After placing his daughter's hand in her fiance's, Lumaria stepped back and watched the proceedings, unable to believe that his little Azalea had grown up so quickly, but to be fair, many things had happened in the years after her father had died. With the overturning of many of the laws that favored men over women, the birth rate of boys vs girls was evening out nicely. There were girls apprenticing to be craftsmen, physicians, and many other fields that used to be closed to them. Since daughters could inherit property and businesses, families no longer had to have a son to keep from losing everything, which spurred more people to try their hand and such things.

Not everything was perfect. The noble families were still a thorn in his side at times, but they were mostly quiet after he had financially ruined the family of Azalea's father after they demanded one too many times that she be married off to some toothless old man that was old enough to be her great grandfather. The old man controlled a significant portion of the world's cotton industry, and they wanted a piece of it. When they persisted in their pursuit of the union even after Lumaria warned them repeatedly to leave it, he had decided to shut them up for good. Since the family's wealth came from the beer and wine industry, which they controlled most of, he had approached one of the local farmers, one of Dahlia's brothers actually, and asked if he was interested in getting into that. The man had eagerly agreed, and Lumaria had given him the backing he needed. Within a few years, Nilan had undercut the other's profits so badly that their business imploded, leaving the family a ruin of what it had once been.

The noble families had mostly shut up after that.

Since then, Lumaria had assisted many others in breaking into fields that up until then had been tightly controlled by the nobles. Those that were smart adjusted their business plans accordingly and thrived in the competitive market. Those that didn't collapsed. The economy was up, business was booming, and Lumaria was the most beloved lord in recorded history, though if Azalea kept up her work in the agricultural field, trying to increase yields without increasing field size, she just might surpass him one day.

“I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Lumaria shook himself from his thoughts just in time to see Azalea and her husband share the kiss, and he smiled and applauded with the rest of the guests.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, Crown Princess Azalea, and her husband Crown Prince Consort Marin!”

Oh yes, it had all been worth it.

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