Touch of Flame



Meredith's eyes blazed with pent-up fury as she glared at him. "No, Richard! She is not! She is your niece," she hissed with vehemence.

"Meredith…" Richard pleaded, a soft note of desperation in his voice.

"No!" Meredith was incensed, pacing around the room, circumventing the bed that was a physical barrier between them. "You don't get to decide when she is your daughter and when she isn't. You don't get to determine when you are a husband or a father. You don't get that privilege anymore!" Her voice was choked with anger, simmering resentment spilling over.

He was blindsided. She was right. He had been making decisions at his convenience without considering their impact on those around him.

"You can't just make my husband disappear one day and expect me to welcome him back the next! Who do you think you are?!" Her voice was a whip, her fury palpable. "I can't keep up with your whims anymore."

His gaze fell, too burdened by guilt to meet her eyes. "Meredith, I... I've been lost for a long while... but I'm finding my way back now. I don't mean to hurt you. I want to rectify my wrongs. Please, allow me a chance."

She blinked rapidly, as if to force back the tears welling in her eyes. "It's too late, Richard. You're too late."

"No, don't say that," he pleaded, taking a few hesitant steps toward her. "I promise things will change. I'll be there for you, for Andrew. You know I love him like a son."

Tears began streaming down her face, but her arms remained defensively crossed, her features strained with the emotions she fought to restrain.

"You deserted him, Richard. You made a promise to Russell that you'd look after him, and you left him high and dry." Her voice was laced with accusation.

"I know…" He swallowed hard, haunted by his shortcomings. "I've caused so much pain and I am deeply sorry. I seek only a second chance. I want to be there for Andrew."

"And how will you manage that? He'll never know his real father and YOU…" Her voice escalated, her temper flaring. "You are NOT Russell!" she choked out. "You are NOT my husband. It was you who dragged him into this mess and now he is gone!" Tears were falling freely now. "And yet here you are, flaunting his appearance, parading around under his name… I can't stand it!"

Richard, shaken by the intensity of her grief, moved closer, reaching out hesitantly to comfort her. "How could you do this to us?" she cried, striking his chest. "Everyone mourns for you, but my husband is the one who's gone! How am I supposed to forgive you for that? Tell me!" In her grief, she seized his collar, shaking him as sobs wracked her body.

His heart felt as if it was being torn apart. The damage he had caused was immeasurable. He allowed her to vent her anger, to hit him, and then gently drew her into his arms, letting her cry against his chest.

"I loved him so much!" she sobbed.

"I know," Richard murmured, tears welling in his own eyes. He, too, mourned the loss of his brother.

"He's gone, Richard. He's gone and he's never coming back."

Richard held Meredith as she wept, offering silent comfort. When her sobs finally subsided into tired whimpers, he guided her gently onto the bed, tucking her in. He brushed away the last of her tears with a soft touch, promising himself that he would be there for her from now on, to care for her, and make things right.

Gently, Richard stroked Meredith's arm, offering silent comfort as she lay with eyes closed, small, hiccuping sobs occasionally breaking the quiet.

After a time, she stirred slightly. "I should get up," she murmured, attempting to rise.

"No, rest," Richard urged softly.

"You've returned. There are matters I need to attend to."

"Nothing is more important than your rest right now." He assured her.

Meredith looked up at him, her blue eyes softened with fatigue, contemplating perhaps to voice another protest. Instead, she chose to close her eyes once more, allowing sleep to take over.

Once her breathing had evened out in sleep, Richard quietly slipped out of the room, stepping out into the hustle and bustle of the castle. Catching sight of one of Meredith's personal servants, he called her over. "Arrange for a private dinner for the queen and I tonight. Something nice and special. Let the kitchen know to prepare her favorite dishes."

The young servant's eyes lit up at the prospect. "A romantic dinner, Your Majesty?"

Romantic? That wasn't exactly his intention, but... "Yes," he confirmed, hoping that such a gesture might quell some of the negative rumors about his indifference towards Meredith. He knew those rumors were hurtful to her. 

Satisfied, the servant hurried off to attend to her duties while Richard continued on to the castle's laboratory to meet with Bram, to ensure him that Ravaina was safe.

"Where is she?" Bram asked, eyes wide with worry.

Doing his best to encapsulate all the events, Richard relayed what had transpired. Bram was visibly shocked by the revelation.

"I know," Richard admitted. "There's much we need to do, and I've been considering how to introduce our peoples to each other. But I have my reservations about how well that will go."

"It's a dangerous proposition," Bram agreed, "but if anyone can do it, it's you, Your Majesty."

Richard clapped Bram reassuringly on the shoulder before making his exit, heading to a private council chamber. He sought counsel on the state of the kingdom, eager to understand what damages needed addressing. Meanwhile he also decided to discuss Andrew. 

"What's your assessment of Andrew as a ruler?" he posed to the council. "I want your honest opinions, and I ask that you not compare him to me. Consider his age and experience."

The councilors pondered for a moment, evaluating their responses.

One of them, a seasoned diplomat known for his prudent advice, broke the silence. "He is impulsive, Your Majesty. His grasp on the principles of rule is robust, but his application of that knowledge is lacking. He often disregards counsel, fully aware of potential consequences but choosing to act on his whim."

Richard took a moment to absorb the critique, thinking about what he could do for Andrew.

Another counselor chimed in, "He is careless. Very quick to make enemies."

Richard nodded; he was aware of this but also knew Andrew wasn't always like that. His own guilt had led him to indulge Andrew's whims, neglecting the discipline the young man needed.

"Does he have potential?" Richard asked. "Could he become a capable ruler with the right guidance and support?"

The council was divided on this. Some were skeptical, believing Andrew lacked the essential temperament to rule. Others thought he had potential if given proper mentoring.

One of his most trusted advisors spoke up, "Your Majesty, vision and purpose are essential. Andrew needs to want to rule for the right reasons."

Richard acknowledged the wisdom in his words. There was indeed a great deal of work ahead with Andrew. 

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