Aliya was roused from her sleep by a series of raps on the door.

Her eyes heavy, she sleepily groaned. "Yes?" she asked.

"Aliya."

It was not the way her mother-in-law strode into the room without an invitation that made Aliya sit up in alarm, but the dread in the woman's voice when she called her name. "What is it?"

Natalia's green eyes were shaking with panic. "Oliver."

Cold waves washed over her, stopping her heart. She feared to ask so she slid out of bed, her heart starting to beat again, drumming in her ears, rapidly and strongly it was almost painful. The darkness was not a hindrance as she reached for her coat. "Where?" was the only word she could muster.

"Everleigh."

A shiver ran through her while she slipped into the easiest footwear.

A tear rolled down Natalia's face. "We have to go now."

Aliya nodded, her own tears blurring her vision as she followed her mother-in-law outside the bedchamber.

Natalia did not know much as well, all they knew was that Pemberton was rushed to Everleigh moments ago.

Aliya could not help the shaking of her hands, but as she silently cried, she noticed Natalia's own hands slightly trembling. She reached out and they held on to each other tightly, both of them refusing to cry because the anguish and fury were too strong at the moment, and the idea of the unknown muddled their minds.

The journey to Everleigh was probably the most agonizing one Aliya had to suffer.

West Blackwood's white manor was humongous, but neither ladies spared time to even marvel at its beauty as soon as they arrived. Aliya jumped out of the carriage and helped Natalia down before they both rushed up the stairs that led to the main doorways of the estate which was held open for them by a young man with blond hair and blue eyes that looked like they were about to burst into tears.

"I am Darren, my ladies, Lord Eaton's valet."

Aliya nodded. "Where?" Aliya asked the man.

"Upstairs, my lady," the valet said, rushing to guide them upstairs. "The Duke and Duchess of Calbridge were likewise informed, but were told not to come as their son is quite fine," the valet told them as they rushed down the corridor. "As to Mr. Garmont..."

"What?" Aliya asked, heart beating fast.

The valet paused to reply, "He—he did not make it."

"Was his family informed?"

"Mr. Garmont has but one family. She will be informed once she is found."

"Good God," Natalia gasped behind Aliya.

The valet continued walking.

"What happened?" Aliya asked, harshly wiping tears from her face.

"They just arrived from Herst, the three of them—Doctor St. Vincent, Lord Calbridge, and Mr. Garmont. They decided to stay another day to justify their journey to Eaton. They went out to hunt—"

"Oliver does not hunt," said Natalia.

"Yes, he said the same. But he went."

"And?"

"As they were nearing the woods, shots were fired."

Aliya stopped walking, her body unwilling to listen to her mind to move on, for she suddenly felt the dread that she had been keeping at bay since they left Coulway. Her shoulders began to shake. But then she shook her head as Oliver's words rang to her mind.

I promise...

He promised he would return. And Oliver St. Vincent was always right.

"Where is he?" Aliya asked the valet.

"He is in that chamber," the valet said, "but he is currently being operated, my lady!" the man shouted as Aliya rushed past him toward the door, quickly followed by Natalia.

She burst into the room to find Pemberton bent over the side of the bed. Robert Dior, looking completely unharmed, jumped from the corner of the room to rush toward Aliya and stop her from coming closer to the bed.

"Let go of me," she ordered, fighting with her entire body.

"You cannot come closer. Dr. Pemberton is working, my lady."

"Let go of me!" she growled, seeing her husband—her giant husband—lying lifeless on the bed.

"Let Lady Aliya go, my lord," Pemberton murmured from the bed. Looking over his shoulder, the old doctor added to Aliya, "You stay at the other side."

Aliya nodded and rushed to the opposite side of the bed. She reached for her husband's hand and squeezed it. "Ollie," she choked out. "Ollie."

"He can hear you, my lady, keep talking," said Pemberton, frowning at his work.

"What are you doing?" she asked, seeing the large, open wound at the side of Oliver's torso.

"I just found the source of the bleeding and currently searching for more damages."

"Then he will be fine?"

Pemberton's face was grim as he looked up at her. "I cannot say."

"But you have stopped the bleeding."

"This is not the only injury he sustained," Dr. Pemberton said.

Aliya's eyes wandered all over Oliver and it was only then that she saw his bandaged left arm. "There is also one on his back that was the most fatal. The bullet passed through him and went right into Garmont's chest. Lord Calbridge said he tried to save Garmont."

Her face crumpled and she searched for Natalia.

"Did the bullet miss the spine?" her mother-in-law asked Pemberton as she joined Aliya at the side of the bed, lips pursed and eyes filled with tears. But her face was firm and strong.

Pemberton sighed. "Barely."

Eyes shaking in panic, Aliya turned to Natalia. "What does that mean?"

"Oliver may or may not be able to walk if he survives this."

"I care not for that. I need to know if Ollie will live—"

"He will survive this, Aliya," Natalia said in a strong voice.

Aliya slumped on the bed and kissed Oliver's hand. "Darling, please..." she begged. "Please, Ollie..."

Aliya could only beg. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, trembling with fear and anguish as she openly sobbed.

For the next hour or so, Aliya remained very still beside Oliver, holding his limp hand over her lap as her other caressed his forehead. From time to time he would flinch in pain and sweat would drench his face. She was both relieved and tormented for he was alive, but he was suffering.

Finally, Dr. Pemberton finished his work. He stretched his back slowly and told Aliya that he did his best. "I will return later to check on him," the doctor started, then paused to look at her. "It is an advantage that Oliver has a large built, my lady, and he is still very young. I am confident that he will survive this if we prevent infection."

Aliya nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. Please, have a rest. And do not go home just yet."

The man smiled at her. "I will stay, my lady."

Natalia approached her. "You need to rest, Aliya. There is a nearby drawing room—"

"No. I want to stay here."

"I will stay here with him until you have fully rested—"

Her mother-in-law stopped herself as Aliya vigorously shook her head. "You are with babe, Aliya," her mother-in-law reminded her. "You have to rest."

She shook her head. "No. I am not tired. You rest, Mother. I will stay here with him."

Natalia looked at her unconscious son and nodded, leaving Aliya in the room with Oliver.

She lay beside him, wrapping her arms around his good hand. Tilting her head, she brushed his hair out of the way. She listened for his weak heartbeat, she watched his chest slowly rise and fall while holding her own.

And then a picture of many Olivers flashed before her eyes.

Oliver walking down the path of the garden in the Winthrop estate. "Ali!"

"Ali!" Oliver shouting her name in the café.

Oliver's foxed, booming voice in the middle of the corridor in Sinclair. "Ali!"

Oliver calling out her name on the side of the street in Strait. "Ali!"

She started to shake again, crying for how could such happy memories bring so much pain?

"Ali!" Oliver hissing her name in the café knowing too well they would be trapped there in a blizzard.

"Ah, you make my heart flutter, Ali!"

Oliver calling out her name to stop her from talking to those ladies in the Stapleton Ball. And Oliver hissing her name as she faced the pair of women who called him the beast.

Her Oliver poking his head through the door to hiss, "Ali!"

Her husband shouting, "Ali," as he made love to her to tell her he loved her.

Aliya trembled with pain and fear. "Ollie," she choked out, turning to snuggle closer to his side. "Ollie..."

Fifteen-year-old Oliver shouting his dreams against the wind, "Bigger than Sutherland! Bigger than the world!"

"Please, darling...don't... just don't..." Aliya's pained cry was muffled by his arm. "Ollie... please..."

*****

Dr. Pemberton checked on Oliver hours later. Natalia came by to ask her if she needed anything, giving up on any attempts to tempt her to take a rest elsewhere. The woman stayed longer, sittign quietly beside the bed, looking at nowhere but her son.

Robert Dior spent a few minutes talking to them about their journey before he said he had to leave to inform Garmont's remaining relative.

"Oliver told us that it was too perfect," he said before he left. When Aliya remained mum, he added, "We should not have insisted that he join us for the hunt. He never liked hunting."

Aliya could only nod then. "He likes dead things, my lord, but he prefers saving lives."

She convinced Natalia to rest and promised to let the woman stay with her son later.

Then she fell asleep beside Oliver, hugging his arm.

She did not know how long she slept, but when Aliya awakened, she sprang up in bed in a panic. She looked down and found Oliver lying motionless on the bed. Scrambling, she felt for his pulse and waited for the rise and fall of his chest. And then she quietly sighed in relief.

Refusing to cry, she gripped her husband's hand tightly.

She took a long breath and slowly let it out. She no longer know how she ought to feel. She was furious, but it was not as strong as the fear and pain.

Intending to ring for food because she did not need it, but her babe did, Aliya slipped out of bed, the room eerily quiet.

"Where are you going?"

Her husband's voice made her whirl around in complete surprise. And even though it was weak and breathy, Aliya burst out in tears of relief and joy, and she rushed back to his side. "Nowhere," she whispered, kneeling on the floor beside the bed to look into his half-open hazel eyes. She tried to stop the sobbing, but her body trembled yet again. "Darling, I am going nowhere."

He blinked, slow and heavy. His lips twitched. "Good. And I love you." Opening one eye, he added, "I told you I will... tell you... once I return. A bit late, but..."

Aliya planted a light kiss on his mouth. "And I love you, too." He smiled. "You are no longer going to take missions. Nothing, Ollie. Do you understand?" A soft scoff escaped his lips. "You may be a giant, darling, but you do not know how to bloody fight."

It took him awhile to answer and she saw how he struggled for each word. "No fight. It was ambush."

"I care not. You still would not survive it. And Dr. Pemberton says there is a possibility you may no longer be able to walk."

The scoff he released came out as a soft sigh. "Bloody old idiot. You... have very little confidence... in me."

"I have very little confidence in myself. I do not know if I can survive another like this."

His eyes tenderly looked at her. "I am fine, darling. Fret no more. This... just a scratch."

Her eyes widened. "A scratch? Oliver St. Vincent, you can barely breathe!"

His eyes closed. "Hmm. Talk about this... later."

Aliya's shoulders started to shake, but not with tears. She was shaking with laughter.

*****

Three days later, everyone thought it was a miracle that he could now manage to be out of bed, even Oliver.

And the moment he could Oliver wanted to leave Everleigh. Oliver wanted to attend Garmont's funeral.

He glared at Pemberton. "I can move my toes, old man! Look!"

The doctor watched as Oliver wiggled his toes. "Hmm."

"I will be on both feet in no time," he insisted. "For now, I want to be wheeled to a carriage so I can go home."

Aliya stood beside her husband's bed. "Will he be able to endure the ride back to Coulway?"

"Ask the more competent doctor, Ali," her husband snarled.

Dr. Pemberton chuckled, shaking his head. He kicked Oliver's shin.

"What the bloody hell, Pemberton!" Oliver gritted out.

Pemberton nodded at Aliya. "If the carriage travels slow, he will survive the journey. You are the worst patient, Oliver."

Oliver scowled. His mother helplessly sighed. "Very well, we go home."

With Dr. Pemberton's approval, he was transferred from Everleigh back to the villa in Coulway where the Hayhursts clamored around him with concern. Even Jason was seen smiling with relief as he pushed Oliver's wheeled chair through the main doors.

"Ah, my kind of quiet," Oliver said as he listened to everyone trying to talk at once. He was in the drawing room which had been transformed into a bedchamber due to his condition, and the said room had also become the new parlor where everyone would often find themselves wandering into when they had nothing else to do.

Christopher and Patricia would come by and chat, and even forget he was there on some occasions. His mother and Geveva would also stay there to talk about household matters. Even Jason would frequently find a reason to be in the room, claiming he was looking for hidden brandies which amused Aliya.

The day before Garmont's funeral, they all gathered in the same room.

"Your father and Ellise are very worried," Natalia told him. "They wish to come."

"No," he said. "This is not the best time to leave Herst," he added.

Natalia nodded. "I told them the same thing."

"Tell them I am unfortunately alive."

"Ollie!" Aliya gasped. "That is not the way to phrase it. You unfortunately survived."

Christopher and Patricia laughed while their mother blindly tried to stop them by swinging her arm in their direction. Natalia could only shake her head and roll her eyes.

"I want to walk around the garden," her husband declared later that afternoon.

"You can barely manage to stand. Dr. Pemberton said that the bullet he took out your back was near your spine. Do not rush things, Ollie."

He lifted his legs. "These legs are strong, darling. But I might need a cane for a while."

Aliya sighed.

"I need to exercise."

"No, Ollie—"

"Then I need a brandy."

She pursed her lips, trying not to laugh as he grinned at her. "I will wheel you in the garden and you can practice standing for five minutes."

*****

The funeral was held in private. Merely Robert and Oliver were the Royals present.

"Sad thing to die a Royal," Oliver said through his teeth as they watched Garmont's coffin descend below the earth. "Your friends cannot even see you goodbye."

Across from them, a woman wearing all black with her face hidden by a back veil stood quietly. She was not crying, and she left as soon as the coffin reached the ground.

"Who is she?"

"Sheridan Garmont," Robert Dior replied, eyes on the woman's back. "The only living distant relative."

With the funeral over, Aliya felt bad for Terence Garmont. He died a hero, yet no one seemed to know, except for the very few who could not even come to celebrate the service he gave his people.

As Jason wheeled Oliver back to their carriage, Aliya took Oliver's hand in hers. Staring down at him, she noted his taut face. She squeezed his hand. "Ollie, I hope you do not—"

"No, darling," he interjected with a shake of his head, looking up at her, "I do not blame myself for his death. I blame the people behind the rifles."

She could not find the right words, so she fell silent.

The silence was much needed for now.

*****

The following day, while Oliver stayed in bed as ordered by his wife, Tanner MacMier and Rider Fairborne arrived without notice.

Aliya ushered the two men into their bedchamber and stood by the bed.

"Ah, so you are still alive," Tanner greeted. "Good. Are you crippled?"

"I can kick your bloody arse all the way to Strait if that is what you are asking, my friend."

Tanner grinned. "I trust that you can do just that."

"If he does not kill himself first, that is," added Aliya with a sigh.

Oliver's gaze veered to Rider. "Why are you here?"

"We are here to ask you a question," Rider said, wasting no time, giving Oliver the impression that something was wrong.

"What is it?" he asked. "Did something happen to Rothsker?"

"No, he is fine. Your father transferred him to a nearby location from Winfield and hired a few men to protect him," Tanner replied.

"When did you last see Eaton?" Rider asked, stepping closer.

Oliver shared a curious frown with Aliya. "The night we had the last opera before we took Rothsker from Coulway. Why?"

"He has not yet returned."

"And Greene?"

Both Tanner and Rider shook their head. "Greene has also failed to return to his estate."

With Aliya's help, Oliver moved to sit at the side of the bed, his eyes narrowed. "Are you saying that Eaton is missing?"

"We cannot find him. No trace of him elsewhere and it has been more than a week. They should be here by now as planned."

"He was last seen riding with Greene to the south," Rider added, brows furrowed.

"Belcourt?"

"We do not know."

"Bloody tarnation," he cursed under his breath.

"Get ready," Rider ordered. "Darcy is on his way."

*****

"I will go with you," Aliya told him as she helped him dress.

"No."

"Why? Is it because of Lord Darcy?"

He smiled. "Yes."

Aliya sighed, looking at his pale face. She reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear and run her palm through his beard. "We will have to trim these."

He chuckled. "You are a very cooperative Royal Wife, darling."

His wife rolled her eyes at him. "I try to be."

He placed his hand over her abdomen. "Wait for me?"

"I hate doing it, but do I have a choice?"

He laughed. "I am telling you, darling, we are becoming the standard Royal Couple."

Leaning down to meet his lips, Aliya chuckled. "That, we are."

Jason wheeled Oliver out of the villa with the Hayhursts and his mother and Aliya staring after him with concern, but Oliver could not be happier to finally be out.

But that happiness was shortlived as he was reminded of the seriousness of the matter he and the rest of the Royal Circus had to face.

With their Royal Master missing, the other one had to come out and take over.

It should not happen. No one desired for Lord Darcy to come out because it meant the Circus was in trouble.

It took Jason and Oliver a while to navigate the path to the Theater. Oliver was still in pain, but he managed to climb down to the basement with Jason's help. "This is the closest we had ever been, Jason."

The man merely nodded. "Yes, Doctor."

"Are you thinking of throwing me down the stairs?"

"The flight is too short, Doctor."

"You devil," he said with a laugh.

Oliver would love to drown the pain with brandy, but he learned pain was good. It reminded him he was still alive. And he was one lucky bastard to be alive. He would have not forgiven himself if