Now, that would never be.
It was all of these things that Roi grieved over as he sat next to his son’s casket. When it finally came time to lift the lid and look at his son’s face, he did it without hesitation. What greeted him was nothing horrific; Beckett looked as if he was sleeping, except for the fact that he had a giant bruise on his forehead and his skin was as white as snow. However, it also had a greenish cast to it, as did his ears, his fingers, and the tip of his nose.
That was the only hint of death.
Roi wept softly as he put his hand on his son’s head. He could see exactly what had happened and exactly how Beckett had broken his neck. The proof was in front of him, and it was a difficult thing to accept. He stood next to the casket for another hour, his tears falling on his son as he spoke to him softly and told him just how much he was going to miss him. He also told him of Diara and how he hoped Beckett would wish him well. He asked Beckett to take excellent care of his mother, who had been alone these many years. Roi rejoiced in the knowledge that Beckett and Odette were finally together again.
To be truthful, it was the only thing that kept him from collapsing into complete despair.
With the lid of the coffin still removed, he went to sit down again because he was emotionally and physically exhausted. He couldn’t see Beckett’s face from where he sat, but he could see his son’s hands, as they were placed over his chest. Somebody had tied them together to keep them from falling away. He lost track of time as he sat there, lost in memories, until he heard faint footsteps approach.
“Roi?”
It was Christopher. Roi took a deep, ragged breath and looked up to see his father standing a few feet away. When their eyes met, Christopher smiled faintly.
“Your mother has sent me to see how you are faring,” he said quietly. “She wanted to make sure you did not require anything.”
Roi returned his gaze to the open casket. He shook his head unsteadily, finally lifting his hands in a gesture that suggested he didn’t know what he needed.
“Nay,” he said, his voice dull with grief. “I do not require anything. But tell me something, Papa.”
“If I can.”
“How would you feel if you were sitting in my place and I was in that casket?”
Christopher sighed heavily. “Distraught,” he said. “I would feel what you are feeling. Utter agony and distress.”
Roi knew that. He really didn’t even know why he had asked, only that he was looking for some commiseration.
“Mama told me about the child you lost before Christin was born,” he said. “Other than that, you’ve never really lost anyone close to you, have you?”
Christopher moved to sit down next to his son, on a stone bench that jutted out from the wall. “Nay,” he said truthfully. “But only by God’s grace. I’ve lost knights and friends. I’ve lost my parents. But I have never lost a living child or even a brother, thankfully. I have been very fortunate.”
Roi was still looking at his son. “How do I recover from this?” he asked. “I told Mama that I did not think I would survive this, but I will. I know I will. But survival is not recovery. How do Irecoverfrom this?”
Christopher put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “By remembering what you do have as opposed to what you have lost,” he said. “You have Adalia and Dorian. They are upstairs right now, and they need you. And you have a kind young woman who is about to be your wife. Lad, sometimes when God takes something away, he gives us something in return. He would not leave you completely alone in your hour of pain.”
Roi thought on the ray of sunshine he’d brought with him, who was up in the hall at this very moment, and he could feel his heart lighten at the mere idea.
“Mayhap,” he said. “You have never met Diara before, have you?”
Christopher shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But your mother likes her already. That is a good sign.”
Roi smiled weakly. “It is,” he said. “Mama is very selective about the women she likes.”
“True,” Christopher said. “Especially those marrying her sons. I feel some pity for them, to tell you the truth.”
Roi’s very nearly chuckled at the thought of his tough-as-iron mother inspecting women meant for her sons. “Diara can hold her own against Mama,” he said. “She is a very amiable person.”
“I know,” Christopher said. “I’ve seen it. I’ve spent the last few hours speaking to her, and before I realized it, I told her nearly everything about my time in the Levant. She managed to get it out of me, and I did not even know it.”
That made Roi laugh. “You do not easily speak on those things.”
“I do not.”
“She has a way about her, doesn’t she?”
Christopher nodded firmly. “She’s enchanting without being pretentious, and that, my son, is a gift,” he said. “Kingdoms go to war over women like that. Cheltenham knows what he has in her, but I must admit, I cannot believe such a woman is Robin le Bec’s daughter. A man like that… I should not expect such an affable child.”
