Serenity lagged behind, staying clear of Hector's wrath. She could see the anger in the way he walked, head forward, and not looking back. No casualness in his steps, each one forced as if his knees no longer bent right. The lack of conversation was not unusual, but now it was by desire.

"My sorrows, Hector," Serenity said when the sun began to find the horizon. She feared they would walk through the night if no one spoke first.

"He is a good man,' Hector said. There was no longer a growl in his voice. At least that was a good sign.

"Aye," Serenity agreed. Craven is a good man. A worker of the earth growing wheat, and he bathed often enough. Strong and pleasant of face in the way of his kin. His smile brought joy to a room, and his words were sweet.

"Why this time?" Hector asked, still talking to the trees in front of them. Serenity sighed, then sat on the trunk of a fallen tree that lay along the path. Without turning, Hector stopped and looked up at the darkening sky.

"I have no reason," Serenity said. Tears began to emerge at the corners of her eyes. "There is never a reason. Not one I can point to." She lowered her head toward her lap. "It feels wrong. That's all I know. I tried, by my mother, I tried." She looked up and saw that Hector had turned. "Something in me is broken. I know I must, yet I cannot."

"Mayhap, it is I who is broken," Hector said. He sat on the ground in front of Serenity. "To this day, I do as your mother commanded. Guide and protect, guide and protect." He shook his head. "It would seem I like Craven more than you." He looked up into her eyes. "Mayhap, I should seek his hand."

The laughter was weak but pleasing. Hector did not hate her for pushing off her duty again. Serenity adored the idea of having a child, yet none of the men she met ignited the fire her mother told her about. There was nothing to lead beyond friendship.

"My mother spoke of how she knew my father would be my father," Serenity said as her eyes found the ground again. "Something inside her churned about, and everything became exciting and new. Love made itself known without question." When she looked up, Hector had the oddest smile on his face. He was staring behind her as if there was something beautiful off in the trees. A moment later, he stood and held out his hand. She took it and rose from the log.

"Sometimes I forget that your happiness is equally important as my vow to your mother," Hector said. They were walking again, this time side by side. "Being last-of-the-line should not force you to take a man who does not churn your insides about."

"I am looking," Serenity said.

"Aye. Perhaps too hard, and that is my fault." Hector brushed off his pants, though Serenity saw nothing that needed dislodging. "You are young with many years left for producing a child. I should not be selecting bulls as one would for cattle. When the man comes, you will know, not me."

"Craven is a good man." Serenity wanted Hector to know his choices weren't bad, just not for her.

"Aye, and a tearful one now," Hector said with a smile. "You set his insides churning about, of that I do know."

"I was kind as I could be," Serenity said. "I saw disappointment in his eyes, but he agreed a union would not be for the best."

"He lied," Hector said. "A good man knows when to let go and will not show all until he is alone. I assure you, he saw himself growing old with you."

"Mayhap, the Goddess isn't ready for me to find a mate. Mayhap, the Answer will appear, and I need to be unfettered for him." Serenity hoped so. The world was full of men she did not wish to bed. There had to be one she found enticing. It would be easier if the choice were made for her.

"Aye. Or mayhap, you will find the man who gives you a stomach ache in the next town." Hector laughed when Serenity slapped his shoulder.

"Mother did not say stomach ache!"

"Insides churning about?" Hector shrugged. "Does that not describe a sickness." Serenity embraced his chuckling. It was a welcome-back to normality. She didn't know what she'd do without Hector, and anger would build a wall between them. Anything, even ribbing her about love, was better than separation.

"Unbreakable love," Serenity said with softness the quelled Hector's laughter. "That's what the tale says, and that is what I desire." She looked at Hector. "I would know that feeling without guessing. There must be one in this world who will stir that in me."

"Then we must find him," Hector said. He pointed back into the trees where a clearing could be seen "After a meal and a nights rest, we will look for him together."

"He will not make the night," Juno said.

"There is nothing you can do?" the old woman, Biana, pleaded.

"It is beyond my skill," Juno said carefully. "He is old, and the Goddess is calling him home. Nothing can be..." Biana fell into Juno's arms and began to sob. It was an odd thing for Juno to wrap her arms around a non-cursed woman. They thought of her as plague most days. When the world shifts severely enough, rules shatter and any warm soul will do.

Juno spent the night dripping a potent tonic into the man's mouth every so often. It eased his passing, allowing him to sleep without the fits that occurred the day prior. In the morning, there were more tears when the breathing stopped peacefully.

Men came after the body was wrapped. They would haul him to the town's burial site, downstream and over the hill. Biana was too frail to follow, so Juno stayed with her as she said her goodbyes. With the body gone, Juno was surprised by an offer of tea.

"Aye, it would be welcome," Juno said. She watched Biana work, her age making every task slow. Juno knew better than to offer help. Biana needed to feel useful and required a simple task to occupy her mind.

"You knew my Victon," Biana said. Juno flinched at the statement. There were many men in town she knew. Or perhaps, knew her. If they had coin, she was cursed to service them. Victon had commissioned her on a regular basis. Juno had thought she hid the recognition well.

"Aye," Juno replied, though it wasn't a question. The woman lifted the pot of boiling water in shaking hands. For a moment, Juno thought the water was meant for her. She was relieved when Biana poured the steaming contents into two mugs.

"He spoke of you," Biana said. She brought the cups to the small table and set them down.

"I...I can not say no," Juno said, even though all knew it to be so. Biana snorted and turned back to her work. She wrapped new leaves in two sets of tea-stained cloth and tied them off with a leather strip. Turning back, she placed one in each mug and sat down across from Juno. The task had taken many times longer than it should.

"Victon was all I had,' Biana said, her wrinkles seeming to multiply as she spoke. "He was a good man to me, and I good to him." Juno tried to speak, but Biana shushed her with the palm of her hand. "I blame you not." She smiled. "He was not a good man when not within my reach." A chuckle followed, which led to a brief cough.

"He was fond of you," Biana continued. She sipped her tea. Juno decided it was best to taste the brew as well. The leaves hadn't been in long enough, but she preferred drinking hot water to talking. "It is I who allowed him coin for his visits." Biana shrugged and put down her mug. "Better to know than to have him sneak about like a fool."

"Unlike some, he was always kind," Juno said. She didn't know what else to say, or if she had just said too much. The situation was uncomfortable.

"An easy task at the end, was it not?"

"Aye," Juno admitted. "His body was failing him, and he wished only to talk." She pursed her lips and thought of her next words. How much should be said of such things? She decided upon the truth. "He thought himself less than what you deserve. Thought himself weak for desiring me." Juno chose to leave out Victon's tears. There were many nights where her only duty was to hold him.

Biana smiled again. "He would return a better man, for a time. Age did not suit him, and I think he saw you as a young man sees a young woman. Something these old bones could not give him."

"Mayhap, it is best if I..."

"You will stay," Biana said. She pulled four coppers from a pocket in her skirt. "Two for easing Victon's night, two for your time this day. You can not say no."

"What...what do you wish of me?"

"Your ear and your words, nothing more," Biana said. "I desire what I no longer have. Someone to talk to."

"Most ladies would not wish my time," Juno said.

"I am not most ladies. I am old, and now alone. You and I share someone, granted you by the curse and me by love." She smiled again, her whole face creasing in a pleasing way. "Is it so different than the time you spent with Victon."

"Here, my skirts will remain on."

Biana laughed. "Aye, our skirts will remain on. He said you had wit."

"Then, I shall find the time pleasing," Juno said. "I know few women out of the house, fewer still who will talk to me beyond birthing or illness."

"Age and time whittle away at such things. Here I sit no longer caring for such things as one's place in town. Victon will be buried in the same ground as all others. One day, I will join him and lay next to the cursed and the privileged. Does the Goddess care? I think not."

"It is my hope that after this," Juno said, indicating the world with a wave of her hand, "we are no longer tied to our lot. At least, it makes things better to think so."

"And what of this time?" Biana asked. "Do you not see beyond the grind of the curse? Victon spoke of a boy, someone who you cherished. I would hear of him for my coppers." Juno found Biana's wrinkles enchanting. It enhanced her expression and announced her desires and pleasures loudly. Her interest was real, and Juno decided it was worth as much as the coin.

"I only mentioned him in passing," Juno said.

"It is not how he heard it." Biana shook her head with eyes intent on the demanded story.

"His name be Kelton," Juno began. She lifted the tea to her lips and sipped, savoring the lack of real duty and the discussion of a topic that gave her joy. "This coming winter will be the third since I saw him last. I miss the boy and desire to see the man he has become. In my mind, I see him happy with babes running around him. His wife is empty to me, but I know she is happy in her life, for he is a good husband and father."

"And you wish it to be you?"

"Aye. More so than this tea, which pleases me greatly," Juno replied. It brought out more of Biana's crinkles. "I shared little with him in the time we had, yet it was everything. Had he asked, I would have burned off my mark," she wiped her hand across the wilted rose on her wrist, "and run away with him. Alas, he wouldn't allow such a risk."

"It is death to wipe the mark," Biana said while nodding.

"Aye, and for him as well," Juno continued. "It was not our time." She smiled and touched the tips of her fingers to her lips. "We kissed once. Only once mind you. Yet, it is the only kiss I remember."

"I still remember my first kiss," Biana said. She chuckled. "It was not with Victon. A winter or two before I met him."

"Did your insides churn about?" Juno asked, remembering her lips against Kelton's. "The world did not seem as odd. Everything made sense for a moment."

"Aye," Biana said, nodding. "That is how it is. It was that way with Victon as well. It is those moments that make life bearable. Where is this Kelton now?"

"I can not say," Juno said. She sipped her tea and wished Biana hadn't asked.

"Did he not feel as you did?"

"I think he did."

"Then why did he not return?"

"It is complicated," Juno said. Again, she returned to the tea to stall the issue.

"I am the Goddess's woman," Biana said. "That does not mean I see the Brethren as her voice. I did once, long ago, but time has carved that away as well. The King, the Brethren, the curse...they can all fade away for life does not need them."

"There are risks in those words," Juno pointed out.

"So be it. My Victon is gone, and I shall soon follow. Do you think they will curse these old bones?" Biana asked. Her smile was a treat. Juno laughed.

"My words are riskier," Juno said.

"They will not leave these walls," Biana said. "We will share our evil thoughts and laugh at the men who think themselves above us." Juno took a long drink of tea, emptying the mug. The bottom held more flavor than the top.

"Pour some more," Biana said, pointing at the pot that still simmered near the warmth of the hearth. "Water is the only thing left that doesn't cost coin."

Juno rose and refilled Biana's cup and her own. The leaves were new that day and being wet, stained the water more quickly than the last cup.

"My Kelton has red hair," Juno said as she returned the pot to its rock slate and sat down. She sighed. "It was beautiful when washed, almost as if it were grown on a girl." She smiled at the memory, then turned serious. "And he had a scar from ear to lip." She mimicked the line of the scar on her face with her finger. Biana gasped.

"The one they were hunting?" Biana asked. Juno nodded and bit her lip at the risk. "There has been no word of him for what...a winter, mayhap two?"

"Aye," Juno said.

"He killed one of the Brethren, did he not?"

"Aye, and some of the King's Own," Juno replied.

"No one kills a Brother," Biana said.

"Kelton did not want to," Juno argued. "The Brother was attacking his friends. He never liked thinking on it, so I don't know the tale in full."

"It is whispered that he is the Answer."

"I wish it so, then I do not," Juno said. She took a sip of tea - stronger tasting than the last mug. "I wish him happiness, and I do not see the Answer happy. The Answer must bring horror before salvation, and thus succumb to it. Do you see?"

"You are the last-of-the-line," Biana said.

"Nay," Juno said, shaking her head. "My mother said nothing, and her mother had four babes, three of whom were girls. I am not the last of any line."

"It is another reason to hope he is not the Answer," Biana said. "It is said this last-of-the-line will have unbreakable love for the Answer."

"Aye," Juno admitted. "It is another reason. Though, wishing him the Answer is for naught. His witness was found and hung upon a tree. If the story be true, he is not the one."

"Things are not always what they seem," Biana said. "My Victon was weak, yet made me strong. He lost trust by visiting you, yet returned better. I should despise you, yet I do not. I see little joy in being alone and much joy in your future visits. Nay, nothing is as it seems. The story is only words, and words have many meanings. Mayhap, the last-of-the-line is you, by way of a twisted play with words."

"It matters not," Juno said, waving away Biana's thoughts. "He is not here anymore."

"And why would he not return?"

"Not here," Juno said, pointing to the ground. "Not in Aragonia. I do not know how it was done, yet I know he no longer walks this land. Mayhap, he remembers little of me now."

"The lands beyond?"

"Aye, though I know nothing of where. The King and Brethren do not rule there, so it must be better than here."

"Goddess," Biana said with a sigh. Juno nodded. The lands beyond the waters were a mystery defined only by the stories of the tellers. Juno thought them embellished and false. They shared a comfortable silence, sampling more from their mugs.

"If you wish to tell me, I would hear of how you first met Victon," Juno asked. That brought back Biana's smile. Juno settled as Biana emptied her mind of good memories of her and Victon's life together. The stories were of ordinary things, which Juno envied. To have someone who cared beyond a night or fought to bring out the joy in the other, was something she desired beyond all else. She had friends in the house and a few infrequent ones like Gossamer. None held her heart as a red-haired boy could.

For nine moons, Juno visited Biana. Two coppers worth of smiles every fifth day. When Biana began to struggle for payment, Floren dipped into the house's dwindling surplus to account for Juno's time. Some in town became aware of the odd arraignment, and a collection was made. It was a strange meeting, Floren and a woman who would not be seen speaking to the cursed on any other day. An agreement was struck for food and Juno's visits. Biana had no family and could no longer mend clothes as in the past. The town desired to be neither cruel or kind. "Cursed healers were best suited to the task," the woman said. Floren accepted the coin, not caring about the intentions. The Brethren cared little how the tithe was collected.

"Call for him," Biana slurred. She was delirious with milked eyes that no longer saw the world. Juno had been ready for it, yet still, the tears came as she held one of her few friends in her last moments.

"He is gone," Juno whispered back. Biana's mind was back into one of their favorite topics; Kelton. Biana shared Juno's dreams about what could never be. In return, Juno relived Biana's past. Neither of them desired the present.

"He will come," Biana said, her cracked and swollen lips tried to smile. Juno blotted them with a wet cloth.

"Shhh," Juno said, and wiped her eyes. "He is safe. I wish nothing more for him."

"Call...he will..." Biana's breath left in a slow exhale and never returned. Juno shifted Biana's head from her lap to the bed. She moved to the corner of the room and sat on the floor, hugging her legs. She was shaking when the weeping claimed her body. Death comes to everyone, but why must it come to one with so few friends.