Ties of Blood and Ink, Ch 22
Barnaby
Shortly after Pip’s seventeenth birthday - which Alexander had insisted on celebrating with cake and presents, despite Pip’s protests - Alexander sat in the sun-drenched solar, taking advantage of the light to repair an astrolabe. Pip was seated behind him, ostensibly working on a carving, but Alexander hadn’t heard the scrape of Pip’s knife for quite some time.
“Alex? I… I have a question. For the game.”
Alexander turned, setting his tools aside. It had been weeks since they had last spoken of the game. “I’m assuming this is why you’ve been one loud noise away from jumping out of your own skin all morning?”
Pip’s words poured out in a rush. “If… do you think Sora would say yes? If I were to ask her to marry me?”
Setting down the astrolabe, Alexander let his genuine happiness show in his smile. “Of course she would. I may not have much experience with courting and marriage, but I see the way she looks at you.”
“Like I’m a clumsy valet who trips over his own feet?” Pip asked, only half-joking.
“Like she loves you, Pip.”
Pip’s hand jerked to the pocket of his valet uniform, his words still quicker than normal. “Ah. Well, then. It seems like it’s time. I asked your father months ago for permission - he said something about Sora and me already being family, which I still haven’t quite… And Sora, I know she’s marrying downward, but she says she doesn’t care. She has no parents to convince in any case. The land - she said it wasn’t much, mostly just a house by the sea - she signed it over to her cousin when her father died so that’s settled. You’re doing so much better, the kingdom’s finally stable. There’s-”
“Pip. Breathe. You’re doing it again.”
Pip stopped and took a steadying breath before continuing, slower this time. “Right, sorry. Point is, no more excuses. I’ll ask her tonight. Provided I don’t lose my nerve.”
Alexander looked back down at the astrolabe; he still had four pieces to fix in place before it was whole. “You… found the right words for me, Pip. You can manage four words for her.”
Behind him, Pip muttered, “Right. Four words.”
#
Sora walked down to the training yard, a shawl wrapped tight against the autumn chill. She and Pip had spent many an evening here. At first, it had been a place for Pip to vent the frustrations he couldn’t show elsewhere, both to her and on the straw man they had nicknamed Barnaby. Eventually, their talks had broadened and she’d spent more time examining the stars with him and less time helping him re-stuff the dummy.
Pip was already waiting, apparently adding more straw to Barnaby’s frame. She frowned; was he preparing to hit it again? Everything had been going so smoothly these past few months.
“Pip? Is everything alright?”
Pip spun around. “Sora! Everything’s… fine. Fantastic, really.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Truly? Because you look more nervous than the time Master Heggs discovered someone had ruined the entire bin of saffron.”
Pip shifted, stepping aside. “Well… it’s Barnaby. I think he’s… taken ill. Could you take a look?”
Sora rolled her eyes as she stepped forward. “Pip, I know we named him, but he’s just straw stuffed into a ripped tunic. What are -“
She looked down and stopped short. A ring, set with a stone the color of the sea, was nestled in the straw just above the neckline of Barnaby’s tunic.
“I wanted him to be holding it, but as he has no arms… anyway, Barnaby wanted to ask you a question. Sora, would you… marry-”
She didn’t wait for him to finish; she turned and kissed him as suddenly as that first one in the armory.
“You can tell Barnaby the answer is yes. Of course I will. Now, I believe he has something of mine?”
Grinning, Pip retrieved the ring and slipped it onto Sora’s finger. He turned back to Barnaby, and gave the lopsided dummy a sharp salute. “Job well done, soldier. Dismissed.”
Barnaby shifted slightly to the left - which Sora attributed to the breeze, though Pip, predictably, took otherwise “See? He approves.”
Sora laughed and took Pip’s hand as they walked away. “He is not allowed to be best man, Pip.”
“Maybe just a guest, then.”
#
As Pip and Sora walked off and out of view of Alexander’s sitting room window, Rosella was practically jumping in excitement. “Of course she was going to say yes! She told me she was going to have to start dropping hints if he didn’t ask soon. If they don’t wait too long, we can have the wedding before the first snow - Alex, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m very happy for them; they deserve it.”
She shot him a disbelieving look, her eyes flashing. “I’m sure that’s very true. But you also have that look - the one that means something’s bothering you and you’re trying to hide it.”
Alexander looked to the ceiling in exasperation, then back down as he retreated to the sofa. Rosella knew him far too well by now. “He’s moving out, isn’t he?”
Rosella blinked, caught entirely off guard by the quiet anxiety in his voice. She looked from him to the stacks of parchment detailing the last of the reconstruction projects and harvest reports scattered across his room. “They’ve been courting for over a year now, Alex. You’ve planned the next two years’ worth of quarry shipments and bridge repairs, yet it just now occurred to you that Pip would move out when he gets married?”
“Somehow, yes.” He rubbed his forehead with one hand. “I guess I’m not… nothing on the mountain changed, Rosella. There was no reason to plan for the next year beyond the garden, the work. To do so felt… foolhardy. A guaranteed way to ensure everything fell apart.”
His hand dropped back to his side, his voice quieter. “Pip has always been here. To think of him gone… the day Alya disappeared, she never came back.”
Rosella moved to his side, and he let her give him a rare hug. “He’s not disappearing, Alex. Father was going to announce it as soon as they made it official. He’s been planning on gifting them a cottage for their wedding, one as close to the castle gates as he could find. A few minutes’ walk, Alex. That’s all.”
“A few minutes,” Alexander repeated. “Good. Pip spends too much time worrying about me; it’ll be good for him.”
“Let’s give them a little while, and then go find them; Pip is probably a ball of anxiety about your anxiety. But don’t spoil the surprise! Father’s so excited to tell them.”
“I won’t say a word,” Alexander promised.
#
The wine had been Rosella’s idea. Pip and Sora had agreed to Rosella’s suggestion of dinner, just the four of them, in one of the private family sitting rooms.
“You can tell Mother and Father tomorrow,” Rosella said, after having a message sent to Valanice to let her know. “But tonight? Just us.”
“I’m sure Mother already-“ Alexander began, but Rosella’s look cut him off.
“Shh. Tonight. Just us,” she repeated, uncorking the wine.
They settled into the familiar space as the afternoon light slowly yielded to the amber glow of the fire. The talk came easy, even for Alexander, with the three people he knew best in the world. Eventually, Pip left to fetch their meal, and Rosella trailed after him—partly to help, and partly, Alexander suspected, to ensure Pip didn’t return with more honey cakes than actual dinner.
“Congratulations,” Alexander said. “I know I said it before to both of you, but I wanted to say it again. To you, specifically.”
“Thank you,” Sora said, her fingers tracing the rim of her goblet. “He’s a good man. I think - no, I know - my father would have approved.”
“Pip told me a little about him. I’m sorry.”
Sora tilted her head, a silent acknowledgment of his sincerity. She swirled her wine, as if seeing more than the firelight’s reflection in the dark liquid. “I was fifteen when the news was confirmed. His ship had been overdue for a week, but I think I already knew. It… felt the same, when my mother was ill. Like a veil had been drawn over the sun.”
Alexander set his own goblet down. He let the silence settle, empty, the way Pip had often done for him so many times in the West Wing, and waited for Sora’s lead.
“He loved sailing,” she continued. “Much like you with your books. After Mother died, he stopped; he let someone else take the helm so he could watch over me. I made him go back, eventually. I couldn’t stand seeing him wither. He had lost too much - her, and the sea. But he kept teaching me, whenever he was home. I made sure of that, too.”
“What did he teach you?”
She gave a soft, sad smile. “Plants. How they predict the weather, and will share those secrets if you know what to look for. Same with the sky. And the stars, how to navigate by them, even if you’ve lost your way.”
“I’ve noticed some of the plants, and the way the sky shifts. But I would love to learn more,” Alexander said, looking upward as if he could see the constellations above. “And the navigation, too. If you’d be willing teach me.”
She looked at him, the melancholy fading a little. “Yes. I think… I think he would have liked-“
She broke off as the door creaked open. Pip and Rosella entered, arms laden with trays of bread and soup and only one plate of honey cakes, and the quiet moment quickly grew into the clinks of shuffled dishes and tearing of bread. The talk returned to predictions of everyone’s reactions to the happy news, and eventually to wedding plans and logistics. When the last plate had been cleared, Rosella rose to leave with a quiet, “I can manage by myself tonight,” to Sora. Alexander took the hint, standing up to say his own good nights, and headed toward his own suite, happy to leave the rest of the evening to the two of them.
#
Given their long courtship, Pip and Sora chose to marry as soon as her cousin arrived from the coast. They were married in a small, simple ceremony - sans Barnaby, despite Pip’s many jokes to the contrary. For once, Alexander genuinely enjoyed the festivities, watching his best friend exchange vows, dance with his new wife, and endure the teasing of his sisters. He even chuckled when Pip’s youngest sister chased him around the room, threatening to ‘decorate’ his new outfit with cake.
Alexander had no concerns when the couple departed for the cottage the Crown had gifted them. Pip had tested the route; at a run, it was only six minutes away.
After a great deal of thought, Pip had chosen Bennett to take over night duty in the West Wing. The seventeen-year-old had originally come to the castle after his farm was destroyed by the dragon, and in the chaos that followed, had been shuffled from position to position as needed. He approached this new role with a quiet seriousness, lacking Pip’s usual levity. But watching Bennett listen intently to Pip’s quiet instructions, Alexander thought the boy a good choice.
The practice nights had gone smoothly, with one exception: they had forgotten to tell Bennett that Alexander often disappeared to the tower early in the mornings. He had handled the resulting confusion well, rousing Pip in the guest room with only a touch of alarm.
The final transition went even better; Bennett only needed to summon Pip once in the following six months. Still, Alexander couldn’t quite shake the feeling that things were going too well. Something would crack eventually; it always did. When Pip arrived one morning in a panic, Alexander was certain it finally had.
Alexander was still lacing his boots when he heard Pip arrive. Then came Bennett’s voice from the sitting room. “Master Pip? Is everything all right?”
Alexander didn’t wait to finish the laces; he was in the sitting room before Pip could answer.
The valet was collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands. “She’s fine. Well, not really. She’s actually feeling rather sick.”
“Sora? Should I get-“
“No, sorry that’s not what I meant. She’s with child, Alex. The nausea is normal, I remember Ma struggling with my youngest sister. Bennett, you’re relieved.”
Bennett offered them both a puzzled look. “Congratulations, Master Pip? I think?” before slipping out the door.
Alexander sat beside his friend, his heart still racing from the morning’s alarm. He looked at Pip, then down at the slight tremor in the valet’s hands. “What Bennett said. Is it… congratulations?”
Pip let out a ragged breath. “It’s terrifying, Alex. What if I’m no good at this?”
“Take it one day at a time, just like you did with me. An infant is… simple, really, comparatively speaking. Food, warmth, comfort. When they get older, you handle the jokes, and I’ll provide the… educational resources.”
“You’re already claiming the uncle title, aren’t you,” Pip said, finally looking up.
“Niece or nephew is much more succinct. It is simply… efficient.”
Pip laughed. "Efficient. Right. Stars forbid a prince of Daventry just admits he wants to hold a baby." He shook his head, the panic in his eyes quieting to a softer apprehension. "Alright. One day at a time. I can do that."
"We can do that," Alexander corrected quietly.
Pip studied him for a long moment, then cleared his throat. "Well then. Since Bennett has fled, I suppose I should make sure your tea isn't cold. Though, knowing you, you've probably forgotten to drink it anyway."
"My morning was interrupted by a rather distressed valet," Alexander noted.
“Ah, well, the valet is now distressed by how dangerously close it’s getting to breakfast. Which is cranberry scones. Unless you’d like a truly distressed valet, I suggest you finish those laces.”
#
“Valanice, a question for you. Did you know, before the twins were born, that there were two of them?” Sora asked.
Alexander noticed the way she shifted in her seat, her belly large enough to hamper her movement. He made a mental note to make sure extra cushions were brought to his sitting room.
Valanice set her tea down, her eyes going distant. They were seated in her solar, and it suddenly occurred to Alexander that she would almost certainly have been carrying him and Rosella in this very room.
“I suspected so, long before the midwife confirmed it. The way I grew so quickly, the storm those two kicked up. It was terrifying, yes, but we were so excited to meet them. And there was a certain… relief, I suppose, at knowing they had each other, even in the womb.” She sent a warm, gentle smile toward Alexander and Rosella.
“Do twins run in your family, Sora? Because if not, the chances—“ Alexander started to say, but Pip was quick to interrupt.
“Alex,” Pip said, his tone teasing but firm, “if you start listing facts and statistics again, I’m revoking your uncle status.”
“Right. Sorry, Pip.”
Pip had made it very clear that he no longer wanted to hear any more of the books Alexander had been studying.
Sora answered the original question anyway. “No, they don’t, Alex. I’m as sure as I can be that it’s either a Cayden or Clara in here.”
Rosella nearly squeaked with excitement. “You’ve picked out names, finally!”
Sora smiled. “We’ve reached a compromise, yes. No Barnaby. Actually, Rosella, there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”
While Pip and Valanice continued to debate the various merits of potential names, Sora and Rosella continued their own quiet discussion.
Alexander, seated between the two groups, picked up snippets of both conversations, and let the warmth of the voices wash over him:
“You’ve been my best friend since I came to the castle, Rosella, and I wouldn’t-“
“Ma was rather insistent on Pippinward again, I really don’t know why-“
“-I quite understand. You have a new priority now, and rightly so.”
“How did you decide on Alexander, anyway?”
“And it’s not goodbye; as Pip likes to say, it’s a six-minute-”
“-Graham wanted his grandfather’s name, but-“
“Pip insists it’s a girl, that I carry-“
Pip, hearing his name, broke in. “Are you going on about her kicking again? I’ve survived two sisters; I know a stubborn streak when I see one.”
They all laughed, the solar echoing the warmth of the bright, clear summer day outside the windows.
#
The room darkened for a moment, as it often did when a cloud passed over the sun. Sora glanced to the window, the back of her neck prickling at the memory of her words to Alexander months ago - about the veil covering the sun. But the cloud passed, the room brightened again, and she let the moment slip away as she turned back to her husband and friends.