He remembers

*Calliope*
The grand room of Morton’s city residence was overflowing with guests. Djuna had insisted that a celebration be held to honor Zac and his accomplishment.

As I watch Zac wending his way among the crush of people, I’m struck by his confident swagger and the ease with which he smiles… even if I suspect much of it is for show. While he accepts the tribute with grace and dignity, I know he still questions his deserving it.

Dragon Parliament is not yet in session. People have come to the city specifically for this affair. While they haven’t all attended the ceremony that afternoon, they’re all chatting about it, seeking out what details they can find. It is not every day that someone is knighted.

The ceremony took place in the ballroom of the Grand Palace. My throat clogged with tears that I refused to allow to reach my eyes; I wouldn’t embarrass Zac for the world as I watched him in his scarlet uniform kneel before the Queen. Seeing him in it again makes me realize that he has aged more than the time that has passed since I first fell in love with him. War and wounds have taken a toll. He looks older than his twenty-six years. So much older. But then I look a great deal older as well. I wouldn’t change a minute of the hardship that has shaped us both.

In a ritual dating back hundreds of years, the Queen touched a sword to one of his shoulders and then the other, speaking words that I barely heard over the thundering rush of blood in my ears. Then it was done. And Sir Zac arised.

He looked magnificent.

His family was there. They are not strangers to the Queen, and she greets them warmly. In a ceremony earlier in the day, I was formally presented to Her Majesty. But my honor is nothing compared with Zac’s.

He has traded his uniform for a black swallow-tailed coat, white shirt, silver waistcoat, and pristine white cravat. He moves about the ballroom with such grace, no evidence of a limp. All his physical injuries have healed. I wish I could be as certain of his emotional wounds.

When the party ends, a little after midnight, we will return to our residence. It is not so far away… an hour at the most. I can’t wait to be absolutely and completely alone with him. I’m even thinking that the carriage might suffice for a bed. My love for him is so grand, my passion immeasurable. I want his hands on me and mine on him. I will tease him about the fact that I’ve never taken a knight to my bed before.

Sir Zac. Lady Dragan.

My father is certain to be impressed. Since Christmas, I’ve received a letter from him, inviting me to visit. I still feel some awkwardness around him, but in time, perhaps it will lessen until it no longer exists. I can hardly fathom how wonderful…

“Calliope?”

The familiar voice turns the blood pumping through my veins into ice. A chill goes through me. I straighten my shoulders and my spine. If I’ve learned nothing else from tending to soldiers, I’ve learned that defeat comes after the battle and not before. Turning slowly, I smile as brightly as possible. "Miss Whisenhunt."

The black hair She had refused to cut while we were in the east is captured into an elaborate style decorated with loops of pearls. Her blue gaze roams over me as though she’s searching for something, and unfortunately, I have a good idea of what it might be.

The woman smiles warmly. "Calliope, after all we’ve been through, surely there is no cause for such formality between us. But please, tell me. How is my son? How is Zane?"

I feel as though I am standing in a foggy haze, the ballroom fading away until I am once again in the war, sharing a sparsely furnished room in the north tower with a dozen other nurses. My bed is next to Sarah’s.

One night, I heard her crying softly. Fearing Sarah had encountered ruffians as I had, I crept out of bed and kneeled on the cold floor beside her bed. “Sarah, whatever’s wrong?”

“Oh, Calliope, I’ve been a naughty girl. I’m in trouble.”

“What sort of trouble?"

“The sort that . . . ruins reputations. Captain Dragan and I . . .”

I felt the sharp pain that the man who had been so kind to me had chosen Sarah, had been intimate with her. “We should talk about this in the morning, somewhere private.”

Sarah nodded, and I returned to my bed, where I wept my own silent tears. How silly I had been to think that I meant something special to the captain. He saved me and comforted me simply because that was what soldiers do. They protect.

I thought something special existed between us, but it was simply my longings, my desires. He was in love with someone else.

But the following morning, as we walked near the waterfront, Sarah confessed, “I believe I shall go to Paris, have the babe, and leave it secretly at a foundling home."

I was appalled. “Surely Captain Dragan will marry you.”

“If he knew of my condition, possibly."

“You can send word.”

“I do not wish to marry him.”

I stared in stunned silence, trying to wrap my mind around this woman not wanting what I desperately long to have. Finally, I stammered, “Why ever not?"

“I have no desire to be a military wife. Coming here was a lark. And Zac is the second son. He will inherit nothing. He is not a man of independent means, except for what the regiment gives to him, and that is pitiful. I would have to do without so much, and as I have learned since coming here, doing without does not suit me at all. No, I will not tell him of the babe. No one must ever know, Calliope. I wish to find a man who will provide for me as I wish to be provided for. Knowledge of my indiscretion would hamper my becoming well situated.”

“I’m sorry, Sarah. I don’t understand what you’re talking about. But to give his child away…”

“I do not wish to have children, ever. This was a mistake. If I did not fear that ridding myself of it now might bring me death, I would do so this minute."

“I cannot believe…”

“No, you probably can’t. You no doubt believe in love.”

“Don’t you?”

“No, I believe in being well taken care of.” She squeezed my hand. “I don’t suppose you’d consider coming with me, because quite honestly, I’m terrified.”

I thought of Captain Dragan… how he rescued me and comforted me. I thought of how wonderful it felt to be held in his arms, to inhale his masculine scent, to feel the warmth of his body penetrating his clothes and mine. I thought of his child, given away to someone who might not have a care for it. “Yes, I’ll go with you."

Two weeks after the child was born, she placed him in my arms. “Do something with him. I care not what.” The next day she disappeared, and I have not seen her since. I took Zane as my own, making a silent promise to Captain Dragan that his son will never be unloved, will never come to harm.

In this ballroom, I stare at the one person who has the power to shatter my promise.

I open my mouth to assure Sarah that Zane is well and that he will remain so as long as she remembers that she willingly gave him up, when Zac’s familiar hand landing on the small of my back stops me.

“I have been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart. What say we… Sarah?”

Everything within me… every hope, every dream, every desire… dies. Zac remembers nothing at all about me.

But apparently, he does remember the woman who gave birth to his son.