I Married the 'Mad' Heir

Ch 29: The Council’s Visit

The afternoon light was soft and golden, filtering through the slightly parted curtains. Orion was sitting in the large, cushioned armchair by the window. It had become his throne. A fortress of pillows supported his back, his sides, his neck. Master Arlen had finally agreed he could sit up for a few hours each day, provided he didn’t move much.

It was bliss.

He had a book in his lap, but he wasn’t reading it. He was looking out the window, watching the lazy drift of clouds. The throbbing in his head had subsided to a faint, manageable hum.

On the floor beside the chair, using a pile of cushions as a nest, was Abel. He was on his stomach, his chin propped on his folded arms, which were resting on the seat of the chair right next to Orion’s hip. His head was tilted back, looking up at Orion. They were talking in low, hushed tones about nothing in particular.

”Do you think Angel is bored?” Abel asked, his voice a quiet rumble.

”I think Angel is probably enjoying not having anyone on his back for a while,” Orion murmured, his fingers idly combing through Abel’s messy golden hair. It was a habit he’d developed over the last few days. Abel loved it; he’d practically purr.

”But we’re his friends. Friends should visit.” Abel argued softly, nuzzling his head against Orion’s hand like a big cat.

”We will. Soon.”

”Promise?”

”Promise.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The fire crackled. The house was quiet.

Then, the door creaked.

It was a small, hesitant sound. Not the firm swing of a maid or the confident stride of Master Arlen. This was the creak of someone trying to be very, very quiet.

Orion and Abel both turned their heads toward the sound.

The door opened just a crack. A single, wide green eye peered around the edge. Then another eye, grey and magnified behind a spectacles lens, appeared above it. The door opened a little more, revealing four small figures clustered in the hallway.

Millie stood at the front, her red braids bristling with determination. Willem was right behind her, adjusting his glasses as he scanned the room with analytical interest. Toben peeked around Willem’s side, his round face full of open curiosity. And clinging to the back of Toben’s shirt was Lissy, half-hidden, one hand gripping her doll Lady Rag.

They all froze when they saw they’d been spotted.

Abel’s face broke into a huge, delighted smile. He started to scramble up. ”You came!”

Millie held up a hand, stopping him. Her eyes darted from Abel on the floor to Orion in the chair. She was assessing the situation with the gravity of a general surveying a battlefield.

”We’re not interruptin’ nothin’, are we?” she asked, her voice blunt.

Orion, slightly taken aback by this tiny, fierce invasion, shook his head carefully. ”No. You’re not interrupting.”

Abel was beaming. ”Orion, these are my friends! The council! This is Millie, and Willem, and Toben, and Lissy.” He pointed to each one. Then, with immense pride, he gestured to Orion. ”And this is Orion. My husband.”

The children shuffled fully into the room, closing the door softly behind them. They stood in a ragged line, suddenly looking shy. They were staring at Orion with unabashed curiosity. He realized he was probably a figure of mystery and rumor to them—the new consort, the one who’d been pushed down the stairs.

Toben was the first to break. He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the mountain of pillows. ”Wow. You got a whole pillow castle.”

That made Orion smile. ”It helps me sit up.”

”Does your head still hurt?” Willem asked, stepping forward with scholarly interest. ”Master Arlen’s treatise on cranial trauma suggests the pain should subside logarithmically after the fifth day, but that swelling can cause intermittent...”

Millie elbowed him in the side. ”Willem. Not a lecture.” She looked back at Orion. ”We came to see if you was alive. Properly, I mean. Abel said you was, but he also thinks the kitchen cat understands politics, so.”

Orion let out a soft laugh. ”I’m properly alive. Thank you for checking.”

Lissy, still hiding behind Toben, whispered something. Toben bent his head down to listen, then nodded. ”Lissy wants to know if you’re the one who gave Brother Abel the secret date advice.”

Now it was Orion’s turn to be curious. He looked down at Abel, who had gone a little pink. ”Secret date advice?”

Abel ducked his head. ”I told them. About how we don’t need a meadow to kiss. They helped me plan the first one. The picnic that got... interrupted.”

Understanding dawned. These were the masterminds behind Abel’s sweet, clumsy attempts at romance. Orion felt a surge of affection for them. ”I see. Well, the advice was very good. But the new rule is good too.”

Millie nodded, satisfied. She finally seemed to decide the situation was safe. She marched further into the room, her hands on her hips. ”So. You’re gonna be okay then?”

”I am,” Orion said.

”Good. ’Cause Abel’s been moping around the courtyard like a lost puppy for days. It’s been depressin’.” She said it matter-of-factly.

”I have not been moping,” Abel protested from the floor. ”I’ve been guarding.”

”Same thing,” Millie said with a wave of her hand. She came closer, peering at Orion’s face, specifically at the fading yellowish bruise on his temple. ”Huh. That’s a good shiner. Did it hurt bad?”

”Millie!” Willem hissed. ”That’s an insensitive question regarding personal injury!”

”It’s fine,” Orion said, amused. ”Yes, it hurt quite badly.”

Toben sidled up to the chair, his eyes wide. ”Did you really fly down the stairs? Abel said you flew.”

”I... fell. Very quickly. It probably looked like flying,” Orion said.

”Cool,” Toben breathed, clearly impressed by the wrong part of the story.

Willem pushed his glasses up his nose. ”Actually, given the height and probable velocity, the term ’fall’ is more aerodynamically accurate than ’fly’. Flying implies lift and control, which you notably lacked.”

”Thank you, Willem,” Orion said dryly.

A tiny tug on his trouser leg made him look down. Lissy had crept forward. She was holding up Lady Rag. The doll’s cloth face was tilted toward Orion.

In a high, squeaky voice that was clearly Lissy’s, the doll spoke. ”Lady Rag says she’s sorry you got broken. She knows what it’s like. Her button eye fell off once and she couldn’t see right for ages.”

Orion’s heart melted. He leaned down as far as he dared. ”Please tell Lady Rag thank you. And that I’m getting new stitches, just like she got a new button eye.”

Lissy’s real face lit up in a shy smile. She hugged her doll and nodded.

”We brought you a get-well present,” Toben announced, remembering his mission. He dug into the deep pocket of his trousers and pulled out a slightly squashed, linen-wrapped parcel. He placed it carefully on Orion’s lap.

Orion unwrapped it. Inside were four items: a perfectly smooth, speckled river stone (from Willem’s collection). A slightly stale but beautifully iced ginger biscuit (smuggled by Toben). A small, expertly woven crown made of clover and daisy chains (clearly Millie’s work). And finally, a tiny, carefully drawn picture on a scrap of paper. It showed two stick figures, one tall with yellow scribbled hair, one shorter with brown scribbled hair, holding hands under a lopsided sun. On the back, in wobbly letters, it read: *Get well sun.*

He looked up at the four expectant faces. Abel was grinning proudly from the floor, as if he’d personally assembled the gift himself.

”This is...” Orion’s throat tightened. ”This is the best present I’ve ever received. Thank you.”

Millie shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but her cheeks were pink. ”S’nothing. Just stuff.”

”The stone has documented calming properties,” Willem stated. ”And the glycemic index of the biscuit will assist with energy recovery.”

”I ate the other one already,” Toben confessed cheerfully.

Lissy just smiled, holding Lady Rag close.

For a while, the children stayed. They settled on the floor around Abel’s cushion nest. They told Orion stories—about the best hiding spots in the garden, about the grumpy old carp in the pond, about the time Toben got his head stuck in the banister (Willem provided a detailed analysis of the physics involved).

Orion listened, interjecting now and then. Abel was in his element, adding details, laughing at their jokes. The room, which had been a sanctuary for quiet healing, was now filled with a warm, chaotic kind of life. It was nice.

Eventually, Millie checked the angle of the sunlight through the window. ”Right. We gotta go. Cook’ll be missin’ her biscuit tin soon, and Willem’s dad needs him for ledger-copying.”

The children got to their feet, brushing off their clothes.

”Will you come back?” Abel asked, his voice suddenly sad.

”’Course we will,” Millie said, rolling her eyes as if it were obvious. ”Now that we know he’s not gonna faint or anything.” She jerked her chin at Orion. ”You rest. And keep him out of trouble.” She meant Abel.

”I’ll try,” Orion promised.

One by one, they said goodbye. Toben waved vigorously. Willem gave a formal little bow. Lissy made Lady Rag wave a cloth hand. Millie just gave a sharp nod.

Then they filed out, closing the door with the same careful creak.

Silence settled back into the room, but it was a different silence now. Warmer. Lighter.

Abel rested his head back on Orion’s lap, sighing happily. ”They liked you.”

”I liked them,” Orion said, his fingers returning to Abel’s hair. ”They’re very... direct.”

”They’re the best,” Abel said simply. He was quiet for a moment. ”They were worried about you. Really worried. Especially after... you know.”

Orion understood. To these children, who lived in the cracks of the great house, violence from the masters was a scary, abstract threat. Seeing its results up close in someone Abel loved had shaken them.

”Well,” Orion said softly, looking down at the clover crown on his lap. ”You can tell them I’m tough. Like your brave stone.”

Abel turned his head and pressed a kiss against Orion’s thigh through the fabric of his trousers. It was a spontaneous, affectionate gesture. ”You are. You’re the toughest person I know.”

Orion didn’t feel tough. He felt sore and tired and cherished. But in that moment, with Abel’s head in his lap and the gifts from the secret council beside him, he felt something else, too.

He felt, for the first time since arriving at Valerian House, that he wasn’t alone. He had Abel. And it seemed, he might just have a few fierce, small allies as well.