AUDEAMUS

Chapter 36

The heat of a summer's night surrounded Collins as he reflected within his cell. His eyes wandered to the empty courtyard, remembering all that had taken place there. Despite his situation, a faint chuckle escaped him. In the distance, the night patrol strolled by and spoke in hushed voices.

Collins rested the back of his head against the wall as he listened to the murmurs of the July night, unable to sleep. Tomorrow he would be transported to Safeira and kept in another holding cell until his execution. He squeezed his eyes shut. Impersonating an officer was a condemnable offense, but it did not warrant his life. Collins supposed someone had to be the scapegoat after the death of Forster. Getting away from Hayes would be a breath of fresh air, as the quaint town was finally free from the tyranny of Wilson and the cruelty of Forster. Collins would not partake in that freedom. His secret — his ugly past and theft of another man's name — had gotten out. Everyone knew he was Miller now, a name that no longer fit him. While some scorned him, a handful of Cadherrians managed to develop a faint trace of sympathy for him.

Even Bella.

She had come to see him a couple of times. But she had been distant in her attempt to understand him. Maybe, deep within, she would forgive him. Maybe he too would one day.

Collins' eyes sprang open as he looked at the starlit sky. He knew Cullen had disappeared forever. He knew he didn't deserve it, but he truly hoped the masked man would make one final rescue.

Footsteps cut through Collins' reflection but he didn't bother to see who it was. A large silhouette of a man emerged as Sgt. Thompson placed a stool and seated himself in front of the cell. In his hands, Collins noticed a small bowl of broth and a piece of bread. In the fold of his arm, Thompson held a bottle of wine.

"From Lucy's?" asked Collins.

"I had her cook prepare her best stew." Thompson retrieved something else — what looked like a basket.

"These were meant for me, but I believe you should try them."

He handed him the basket and Collins caught the waft of minced pies.

"Dory, the Masen's cook, makes the best minced pies in the area!" Thompson exclaimed as he uncorked the wine and poured it into two cups.

Despite everything that had happened, Thompson still treated Collins with respect, as if he still was his superior officer.

Collins bit into one of the pies, not out of hunger but as a gesture of appreciation toward Thompson. "Thank you," he said as he looked down at the dirty floor of his cell.

Thompson nodded stiffly as he took a big gulp of his wine. He looked around as if waiting for something.

"You...you do not have to tend to me like this, Thompson," Collins said after an awkward silence "I do not deserve it."

"Maybe," Thompson agreed. "But what is done is done."

Collins downed his entire cup, expecting Thompson to pour him another one, but the bottle remained by his side. Two small eyes peered at Collins.

"You will always be Major Collins to us, sir."

"You should take care, Thompson. You never know who might be listening to you."

Thompson shrugged as he took another sip of the wine. "Do you really think they'll execute you in Safeira, sir?" he asked.

"I don't see why not," Collins sighed, taking a spoonful of the stew and dipping the bread into it.

"You seem awfully calm, sir."

"I have come to terms with my sentence." He noted that Thompson was still looking around as if waiting for something. Collins put down the bowl. "What are you waiting for, Thompson?"

The sergeant shrugged. "For Cullen. I've been waiting for him for weeks now."

A hearty chuckle escaped the prisoner. "Good one."

But there was no smile from Thompson, only a serious expression as he pressed his lips together. "Why wouldn't he come?"

"Because Cullen only rescued the innocent," Collins sighed. "I played a part in Wilson's and Forster's plans." He fiddled with the wooden spoon in his hands.

"You were blackmailed."

"But I still willingly helped."

Thompson shook his head. "I don't think you are a bad person, sir."

"Thank you, sergeant," Collins smiled. "But it is more complicated than that." He looked at the bolted garrison doors in the distance. "Cullen will not save me and I have come to terms with my fate. So should you."

Thompson emptied his cup as he got up. His large and rotound form blocked the silver beams of the moon momentarily. He paused, looking up at the immense sky. "For once, I want to do what I feel is right," Thompson said, his words barely above a whisper.

"Then do not worry yourself so with me, sergeant. It is what it is."

Thompson cast a glance at him before heading away, leaving Collins once more alone in the darkness. The fresh scent of the eve washed over him and his mind took him to the woman that occupied his waking thoughts. Collins wished he could have a final and private word with her, but he knew she would not visit again. She hadn't for almost a fortnight — ever since the news of his execution in Safeira was made public. Maybe it was for the best.

The hours ticked by and he eventually found himself on his back with his eyelids heavy. He had one final sunrise in Cadherra to look forward to before he would leave forever.

It wasn't until the early morning hours, when the rustling of keys and the creaking hinges of his cell door sounded that Collins darted awake, looking around in confusion.

By the entrance of his cell stood a large shadow. The weariness in his eyes did not allow him to clearly see who it was, but Collins had a wishful guess as the stranger pushed the door wide open.

"Cullen?"

The moon peeked out from behind a cloud as Collins' eyes widened.

"We have waited enough, sir. It seems you were right," came the subdued voice of Sgt. Thompson as he further pushed the door open.

Collins rushed up to stand. "What has gotten into you?"

Thompson fiddled with his fingers. "Well, sir, if I have learned anything from this past year it is that one should take matters into their own hands. If Cullen will not come to free you...then someone has to!"

"You could be shot for this, Thompson." Collins shook his head. "I would not wish you dead because you helped me."

A hearty chuckle emerged from Thompson. For the first time, Collins noted that the usual night patrol was absent and the bolted doors to the garrison stood ajar.

"I'll only be in trouble if you say it was me who helped you, sir."

In his hands he held a small sack, handing it over to Collins. "A fresh set of clothes, sir. The saddlebags have some food to last you at least a few days."

Hesitantly, Collins left the cell, his eyes scanning the deserted courtyard, finding that a saddled horse was tied to the pole by his old office.

"If you take the western gate, you'll find the path cleared."

Despite himself, Collins' eyes watered slightly as he turned to Thompson. He wanted to ask why, but found himself unable to speak. Thompson had never been good with reading people. But on this night he appeared a changed man, as if he understood the silent question Collins was asking.

"Because you believed in me, sir. You treated me as a soldier...when so many others treat me...well...as they do," Thompson responded with a shrug. "I do not know much of honor…I am not as brave as Cullen or Mr. Black. But I knew Forster. He blackmailed you sir, very few people could have stood up against that."

"You shouldn't call me sir, anymore, sergeant," Collins whispered. "I am only Mr. Miller."

Thompson shook his head fervently. "To me you will always be Major Collins. It doesn't matter what you were before."

Collins squeezed the fabric of the sack, a deep and shaky breath escaping him.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir...what will you do?"

It was a good question, something Collins hadn't pondered. "I...I don't know." He didn't have anything to return to, no home to go to. His face was known in the bigger cities, which he would have to stay away from. He looked to the horizon, toward the north, where Raven's Grove lay. "Maybe escape to the forest for a few days," he finally said.

"And then?"

Collins thought not knowing about his future would frighten him, but he found it strangely exciting. He had been given another chance at life by the most unexpected person.

"You have given me a fresh start, Thompson. I will not squander it."

The carriage pulled up to the opened gates, cascading sunbeams raining down on the traveler as he squinted against the warm light. Birdsong intermingled with the rustling leaves of the trees. Flowers, leaves and grass swayed lazily in the July sun.

Wilson's estate would forever be tainted by association with him. But its new inhabitants had sought to restore it to polite society. The scandal and confrontation which had rocked Hayes spread like a shockwave throughout Cadherra and Angloa.

Billy was helped down from the carriage by one of the servants. He looked at the polished façade of the whitewashed cluster of houses, chuckling to himself as he leaned on his cane.

"We were not aware you would come so early, Mr. Mayor!" Joseph said as he rushed outside to greet Billy Black.

The newly elected mayor of Hayes waved lazily with his hand. "An impromptu visit, Joseph. I hope I am not disturbing…"

"Mr. and Mrs. Masen are having breakfast in the garden. I shall take you to them."

He showed Billy through the house. The latter noted the now modest furnishings; the lavish paintings and textiles were gone. Wilson had lived in excess; the new inhabitants chose comfort and simplicity. He walked past the ballroom with Joseph, reminded of the confrontation his son had described. Billy could not begin to imagine what had truly taken place in that room, but he was happy with the outcome of it.

They reached the gardens at the back, a small terrace leading to a green field where tall cypress trees enclosed it. He had never been to this part before. There was some quaint garden furniture placed close to the house near a fountain which trickled quietly in the middle of the garden. The birdsong grew and Billy squinted his eyes as he stepped out into the sun once more. He removed his hat and pushed his newly shorn hair back. He had abandoned his long locks as a way to bid a final goodbye to his past life. Billy, like so many others, now looked to the future and the progress and change it promised.

Isabella Masen was seated opposite her husband, smiling as she lovingly looked at him while sipping a glass of apple juice. They had scarcely been wed six weeks, and the couple spent every waking hour in each other's company. She released a carefree laugh at some remark he had just made and took another sip. Edward Masen looked carefree too, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

The day Cullen disappeared into the woods after the battle, he was never seen again. The myth of the ghost of the general had only grown stronger and Hayes proudly spoke of his aid to them in their darkest hour. Billy, like some of the more astute townsfolk, had noted how young Mr. Masen's countenance had changed since the disappearance of Cullen. While many attributed it to his relationship with Mrs. Masen — for, indeed, she had managed to turn him into somewhat tolerable — others were not so certain.

The fop was gone.

As if he had never existed.

Another man seemed to have taken his place. He was more relaxed, more carefree. There was no arrogant or sardonic undertone to his speech anymore. He had shed any pretense of exaggerated manners and etiquette. His nose no longer pointed towards the sky. Edward Masen had taken to sports like riding and fencing, which he had previously shown a great distaste for. His nasal speech had all but faded away and the tall and starched cravats had completely disappeared.

"Mr. Black!" he heard a gentle female voice exclaim. The warmth expressed brought a gleam to his eyes. "Back so soon from Safeira?" she asked as he sat down to join them. Edward asked Joseph to prepare a plate for Billy as well.

"I returned yesterday evening but was too tired to make my way here. I hope you will forgive me," he apologized.

"We did not expect you to come here immediately upon your arrival," Edward said.

Billy held the warm cup of tea, looking at it absentmindedly. "I wished to see Jacob, and in my tired state I forgot that he had left Hayes." Something akin to sadness touched Billy's voice.

Bella leaned forward and placed her hand over his. "We miss him too," she murmured. "But I believe it was good for him to leave Angloa for a while."

"It is good that he has decided to travel with Jonah and discover the world beyond Angloa," Billy agreed. However, the loneliness in his eyes was apparent. How much they would miss Jacob hung unspoken.

Bella leaned back. "I understand that things are changing ever since the people of Hayes disregarded the provincial council of Cadherra and elected you mayor."

Billy nodded. "Aye, but it never would have happened if Lord Newton had not stepped forward with his support."

"How are things in Safeira?" Edward asked.

Billy sighed. "I laid out my proposal for some changes in the administration of Hayes to the Grand Assembly. I do hope it gets to His Majesty. Frankly, I am glad not to be working in the capital. It is too complicated and messy for my taste. Had not Sir Athar and his brother been there to help me, I fear none of my work would have even been considered." He drummed his fingers against the table as if deep in thought. Two yellow butterflies danced past them in the air.

"What of Wilson?" Bella wondered after a while, staring down at her half empty cup of juice. Little had been heard of the disgraced mayor of Hayes.

Billy's fingers stopped drumming. With his recommendation, Wilson could have been sentenced to hang. Yet, Billy never chose that option. Black eyes watched the swaying cypress trees as if mesmerized by them.

"He was taken to the prison in Leste, northwest of Castell."

Bella's nostrils flared slightly. Edward kept still, a frown working its way onto his face. His eyes darted to a lazy cloud drifting by high up in the sky. "And what now?" he murmured, mostly to himself. "What becomes of us, of Hayes, of Angloa?"

"We lead by example and hope that more towns follow. This is a step in the right direction." Billy paused. "Cullen told me he was but a man in a mask, that when the confrontation with Forster and Wilson was over, the real fight would begin. He was right… about it all," Billy chuckled. "I do not think that there could be any place in the local government for a man in a mask. At least not in this day and age."

Suddenly, they were interrupted by Joseph as he came out into the garden, accompanied by another man whom they all instantly recognized. They were surprised to find Willard Athar there, ever polished and graceful with an arrogant look gracing his features and his graying hair neatly combed back.

"Sir Athar is here for you, Mr. Masen," Joseph announced.

"Athar?" Billy blurted. "I thought you would arrive tomorrow!"

"You knew he was coming?" Bella asked.

Edward stood up and went to shake hands with Athar as if they were old friends. He turned to his wife and the mayor of Hayes. "Will you excuse us?"

Bella nodded slowly, casting a glance Billy's way, only to find him equally confused. They watched as Edward and Athar disappeared into the house.

When they were in the ballroom, where Cullen and Athar had confronted Wilson with the evidence, Athar let out a snort. "Really now, Masen, this is the estate you chose to settle in?"

Edward shrugged. "It's a damn fine house, if I say so myself," he said with a charming smirk. Athar had not seen Edward since he had ridden away that day in the square dressed as Cullen. The way he acted now was different, but he liked it. It was as if the true Edward Masen had finally been unmasked and deemed it timely to step forward.

"I am sure Mr. Black has already informed you about Wilson," Athar said as they took a slow stroll about the room.

"That is not why you are here," Edward answered, looking straight ahead.

"We have not had any luck with the letter," the other continued. "I am afraid it will be lost forever," he sighed.

Edward stopped. "Maybe it is for the best, my friend. No one else has stepped forward to pressure the king?" he wondered.

"No one. I believe Wilson never shared its contents with anyone save us, under duress."

Edward nodded, his lips pressing together firmly.

Athar clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head to the side in an almost mocking manner. "I haven't told anyone about you, Mr. Masen," he blinked.

"I never believed you would do so," Edward said.

Athar's eyebrow rose slightly. "Really now?" He took in the man before him. As he was now, the way he carried himself, how he spoke, how he acted, Athar could believe he had been Cullen. He was certain more in Hayes might arrive at the same conclusion. Yet, not even as much as a whisper about Masen and Cullen had been heard. Athar suspected Hayes would fervently protect one of her own.

"What about her?" Athar asked, his eyes shifting to a window, glancing past the thick wisteria vine framing it. Their eyes looked past the garden, catching the figures of Bella and Billy in a pleasant conversation.

Edward took another deep breath. "I haven't told her about the letter...the secret." He turned to Athar, emerald eyes drilling harshly into him. "But she was as much a part in this as I was. One day I will tell her, Willard. One day she will also know the secret of Cullen and William Fell."

"You said it yourself, it wasn't your secret to tell," Athar warned.

Edward shook his head. "Without her, none of this would have been possible," he argued. "Besides, I find it kind of fitting, don't you?" he blinked. "That Isabella Swan should know the secret as well."

Athar couldn't help as his harsh expression softened with the tugging of his lips. "I am sorry I missed your wedding," he said, deciding on changing the subject and leaving it behind. He knew Bella was trustworthy and honorable and would keep Cullen and William's secret.

"Oh, no worries, dear friend," Edward laughed. "Besides, I hear Michael Newton is getting married next month to Miss Stanley. You must have received an invitation."

The color drained from Athar's face as they proceeded to the gardens yet again. "Heaven spare me. I only hope that lad knows what to expect from the Stanley family."

"I believe he fancies the young lady," Edward mused.

"Then he must be blind," Athar muttered.

"Aye but love is blind, my good friend!" Edward laughed. He settled down as he turned to his friend. "My family and in-laws are coming to stay later this week. Would you do me the honor of spending some weeks here with us and revel in the peace we have achieved?" Edward asked, his hand on Athar's shoulder.

"Of course!"

They let their conversation settle before Edward frowned, bringing up a less pleasant subject. "Did you hear about Collins on your way here?"

The shadows in Athar's face had indeed grown. "I was told by Sgt. Thompson when I stopped briefly in town," he stated. "How did Isabella take it?"

"I thought she would be nervous at first. But considering what would have happened to him, she appears relieved…" Edward muttered.

Athar arched an eyebrow. "I take it you have no say in the matter?"

"I think she has forgiven him…to an extent. Yet, I do not think myself capable of forgiving him for what he did in our townhouse. He risked her life...he did not listen to her wishes and thought only of himself in that moment."

"From what I understand, Collins spent ample time with Friar Blackwater during his imprisonment. Blackwater himself told me he had seen the errors of his ways." Athar almost chewed on his lip.

Edward frowned. "I do not think I could ever trust him." He thought he might have seen something in Collins once, a man who stood up for morals and wished to help others. But after what he had done to Hayes and his family, even under threat, Edward could not forgive him.

"I understand," Athar nodded. "But do you really believe that he deserves to be executed for it?"

"Were it not for the information he gave us concerning Wilson's mercenaries, we might not be standing here. I do not believe he deserves death, but he shouldn't go free either. It is strange that Safeira would sentence Collins to die but allow Wilson to live."

"We all believe the greatest punishment Wilson can receive is to be locked in a small and cramped cell, having lost everything and having to live out the rest of his life in that knowledge. But they felt that Collins should not be allowed to live at all, that his death would set an example…at least within the military. They couldn't sentence Forster, so they sentenced Collins in his place." When Edward stared at Athar, the other shook his shoulders. "I agree...it is not just."

Edward's eyes drifted to Bella, watching her as she laughed with Billy.

Athar inched closer. "I know I shouldn't ask and that it is obvious but…you didn't have a hand in his escape, did you?"

Edward arched an eyebrow and let out a chuckle. "You know, you're not the first to ask me that question..." His eyes remained steadfast on his wife. "I was as surprised as the rest of Hayes." Emerald eyes locked on gray-green ones. "I did not have a part in it."

"Then…who did?"

"Does it matter? Someone in Hayes felt Collins had been wrongly sentenced. But instead of merely voicing their opinion, they decided to take action. Or maybe he really managed to break out by himself. While Sgt. Thompson has much improved since I first arrived, he and his soldiers are still…lacking. Breaking in and out…tricking the Royal Guard — considering how thinly spread they currently are — wouldn't be difficult." Edward leaned forward. "Speaking from experience of course."

"Well, I hope he comes to his senses and leaves Angloa. If he is recaptured, there will not be a second chance."

"I hope so too…" Edward agreed, his eyes narrowing on Bella.

There was a stillness settling in Hayes, as if the harsh tyranny they had lived under Forster and Wilson had never occurred. While some families had lost loved ones to the battle for Hayes, they rejoiced in the knowledge that their future was brighter than before. Under the leadership of Billy Black, everything had improved. Taxes were lower than they had been in almost three years, and people could afford to put food on their tables once more, reveling in the feeling of a full stomach. Hayes turned into the picturesque town it should always have been. There was no fear of the Royal Guard anymore. Sgt. Thompson had taken over as commandant of the garrison until a new captain could be appointed.

That night the town was still, the lazy summer breeze drifted by and a joyous song stemmed from Lucy's tavern as Thompson and his lancers celebrated in unison with some townspeople. Joe, Robert and a handful of others were there, joined even by Billy as they delighted in mead and lively company.

Beyond the cozily lit tavern and the enclosing walls of Hayes, exposed on the naked meadow outside of the town and staring at some faint stars in the sky, rode Collins. He didn't know where the horse was taking him as he let it roam freely. He had left Raven's Grove as soon as the sun dropped behind the western horizon.

One person came to mind. A face: two eyes and a soft mouth smiling at him. Collins had one final thing he needed to do before leaving Angloa.

His horse sprung into a canter, the sensation of true freedom strange to him. The burden of his secret was gone as it had been revealed, and as his eyes wandered up to the stars, he couldn't help but smile. The impact of his actions would, of course, forever haunt him. What he had done with Wilson and Forster would forever remain in his mind as a stain against what he had once strived to be.

The array of elegantly whitewashed houses stood like an island on a green sea of grass. He had visited this place many times, realizing this might be the last time he would see it…see her.

In the garden of her home, Isabella Masen walked alongside her husband in silent reflection. His hand rested on her waist, now that no prying eyes could scrutinize them.

In the dark velvet of night, soft silver beams of the moon touched her face as she turned to him. Her eyelashes cast deep shadows on her cheeks as she glanced down. The breeze carried with it a faint perfume of the night as it softly kissed the exposed skin of her arms and neck. Faintly, they could hear the echoes of hooting owls, the crickets playing their tune and the dancing leaves of Raven's Grove in the distance.

Edward's hand came to guide Isabella's face to his, finding that she was blushing. He looked deeply into her endless eyes, his thumb lightly caressing her lower lip, as if wanting nothing more than to take it with his own.

"What goes through that mind of yours…I wonder," he whispered to her as his other arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her in even closer than before. Her body pressed softly against his, their contours molding together, and a satisfied sigh escaped her.

"Wondering...thinking."

"About?" he asked.

She looked pensive for a while as her eyebrows knitted together. "In the square," she said as she looked up at him. "Why...didn't you unmask?"

In one quick action, Edward could have received the admiration of the entire town for his feats, probably the entire kingdom.

"Because, despite what I did, I broke the law."

Bella scoffed. "So did Mr. Black, so did half of Hayes."

"No, Bella, I really did break several laws. I broke Mr. Black and Jacob out of prison, instigated townspeople against the local government. Mr. Black was falsely condemned of treason, it is not the same. Cullen took on the heavier charges and if I had unmasked and some government official wanted to, they could have incarcerated me like they did Wilson."

"Athar would never let that happen, nor would His Majesty."

"I wouldn't take my chances." He released a tight lipped smile. "That is why I can never reveal it was me behind the mask."

A look of understanding entered her eyes as her face split into a wide grin. "Then I am grateful."

"Grateful?" He brushed a stray lock from her face.

"That it ended like it did…that you are here…with me," she smiled. His eyes glittered like the stars above them as his lips tugged at the corners. Edward murmured in satisfied agreement as his lips sought out the exposed skin at the base of her neck. Bella shivered at his touch.

"Anything else you are grateful for?" he whispered in that delightfully velvet voice she had come to love. She knew he was teasing her, driving her mad until she herself dragged him to their bedroom.

"I'm grateful that Hayes is free," she continued as he worked his way up her neck agonizingly slowly. "I'm grateful that Mr. Black is mayor…that Jacob and Jonah get to travel and see the world…that Sgt. Thompson is acting commandant of the garrison…that Mr. Ridge and Maria's deaths have been cleared." Her breath hitched in her throat as Edward kissed her earlobe.

She frowned suddenly, gently pushing him away. "And… there is one more thing I am grateful for…or rather, glad about," she confessed, her manner growing distant, as if she was expecting a harsh reaction from him.

"I am glad that he escaped," she said boldly, not wanting to feel apologetic about her feelings. "Collins did not deserve to be executed."

Edward's face remained a stoic mask for some time.

"No, he did not," her husband finally agreed. Something in his eyes sparked. "But he did much damage, Bella."

"But he repented, in the end. And…he is gone now."

Edward understood her sentiment, just as she understood his.

A sense of ease settled between them. Bella had wished to reveal her sentiment ever since Collins had escaped, she just hadn't found the right time. But, when indeed had it even been a good time to tell such a thing to her husband?

That was why she loved him so; with Edward she was allowed to think for herself, to make her own choices and stand by them. He respected her in a way Collins never would have.

The peaceful quiet of night enveloped them once more, Edward and Bella gazing at one another in silent reverie. Her eyes glistened, her pulse loud in her ears. She was reminded of the times she had spent with him as Cullen. Indeed, it was as if Cullen had returned to her, without the mask now. Bella couldn't believe her good fortune...that she should have ended up with such a wonderful man.

"I love you," she sighed.

"I know," he murmured back before his lips slowly came down on hers. Edward savored their kiss at first until it grew deeper. He kissed her as if he had just come out of the desert and she was the drop of water he so desperately craved. Their tongues danced in their mouths as their breaths increased. Her arms came up around his neck as she playfully nibbled on his lower lip.

"And I love you too, Mrs. Masen," he whispered back, burrowing his face in her chestnut locks as he closed his eyes. He reveled in the feeling of finally having her—not as Cullen—but as himself, as Edward Masen.

Suddenly, he tensed, the uneasy feeling of being watched washed over him. Without alarming her, his green eyes quickly scanned the area until he saw a man staring at them from atop the wall.

Edward's and Collins' eyes met for a brief moment, one waiting for the other to react. Collins watched her nestled in the arms of her husband, content. She had gotten the life he could never give her—the life she deserved. And he saw that she would be happy by Edward's side. Yet…after everything, Collins' heart broke in two, knowing she had never been his for she would never have melted in his arms like that.

The display of grief, understanding and acceptance displayed clearly in his eyes — all for Edward to see. He finally understood why Collins was there, to say a final goodbye before he no doubt left for someplace far away.

Collins gave Edward a stiff nod, as if urging him to always care for her. Maybe, in that same nod of acceptance, he too asked his rival for forgiveness for what he had done to him and his family.

Maybe.

Edward hugged Bella closer, her sigh of comfort sending a shiver through his body. In Collins, he strangely perceived something of himself — a man that had so dearly wished to be more than he was, a man with strong ideals and a notion for justice that was trampled by greedy and powerful men. Edward could have found himself in an equal situation had Wilson or Forster ever found out who truly hid behind the mask of Cullen before their downfall. Thus, he gave his rival a similar nod, as if acknowledging him — as if acknowledging the man Collins had strived to be.

And, just like that, Collins disappeared. Like Cullen, he too vanished from Edward and Bella's lives.

Her hand came up to his chin, shifting it so that he was gazing down at her. "Edward?"

"Yes?" he said, startled after the strange and silent conversation that had passed between him and Collins.

She frowned. "I said that we should retire for the night. It's late and your family will arrive quite early tomorrow."

His brow arched as he cast a boyish grin her way. "Sleep? But I'm not tired, my love," he blinked.

She stood up on the tips of her toes and placed a soft lingering kiss on his lips before wordlessly heading back to the house.

Heat stirred in Edward as he watched her silhouette make its way toward their home before rushing after her.

Bella clasped her hands in her lap, leaning back against the beige settee. The open windows to the salon let the fresh air in. On the glass table before them Sara had placed a pitcher of lemonade and some cups for them to quench their thirst. The wisteria vine which framed the back façade of the house swayed gently, the scent of freshly cut grass intermingled with citrus and cypress, reminiscent of the time she had spent in Zafra, reminding her in a sense of the Mediterranean.

"Where is he?" Emmett growled, shooting out of the sofa opposite the women, looking around frantically. "It's been hours since he left with Lord and Lady Masen!"

"Sit down darling and for the love of God calm yourself," Rosalie snickered. "You always look like a brute when the veins in your forehead pop. I am certain my parents and brother shall soon return."

"Yes, but…the grounds are vast, Rosalie," Alice filled in, sending a grin Emmett's way. "It wouldn't surprise me if they didn't return until nightfall."

"Nightfall?" Emmett exclaimed. "I'll not wait until nightfall. I have been practicing for this sparring match for weeks!"

"You will get your rematch," Rosalie sighed. She pointed at her husband. "Now, sit down!"

Jasper raised an eyebrow, sipping contently on his lemonade as he blinked at Alice. Bella's hand went to shield her mouth from the smile that spread across her face.

"Mrs. Masen?"

They all turned to find Sara standing in the round-arched opening. "Yes, Sara?"

"Sir Athar has arrived from Safeira with his equipage. To which room shall I send his belongings?"

Bella lit up as she heard Athar's name. "Oh, how splendid! Send him to the second room of the west wing, next to where my parents will be staying. But show him in here, I can take him to his rooms later."

Sara curtsied and left.

"Is it such a good idea for Sir Athar to be in the near vicinity of…your father?" Emmett asked tactlessly.

"Oh, a wonderful idea, I should think. While papa can be…quite intense at times, mama and I have delighted in the fact that the two of them get along strangely well. They seem to both have an affinity for chess. Besides, papa loves hearing of Safeira, even the dull mundane events taking place. And Sir Athar appears to enjoy speaking of them to him."

"Only because your father, for one, is a good listener!"

Athar entered the room with a proud and arrogant bearing. He looked as refined and polished as when she had last seen him, when Billy Black had come to visit.

"It was meant as the highest compliment, sir," Bella smirked.

His haughty expression softened. "Had it come from anyone else, madam, I would have taken offense. But having heard it from you, I am flattered," he said as she approached him. Athar bowed over her extended hand.

"We are delighted that you will join us, sir," she said.

He looked around as if searching for someone.

"My husband went early this morning with his parents to show them the extensive grounds."

"They have been gone for hours," Emmett added with a sigh.

"My husband also promised Mr. McCarty a duel in the patio once he returned. I think we all should find it immensely entertaining," she said with a twinge of sarcasm and nasality to her voice, mimicking Edward. It stirred a laugh in the rest of the group.

They sat down and commenced a lengthy discussion about Jessica Stanley and Michael Newton. Jessica's relationship with Bella had greatly improved after the battle for Hayes. She was still vain, mildly annoying and took a lot of energy and space. But her treatment toward Bella had softened. Michael's influence seemed to refine her.

A few hours passed and the rest of the family soon returned. Carlisle spoke of the wonders of the estate that had now been renamed after the Masen family. Both Carlisle and Esmeralda said the entire family should venture out on a picnic if the good weather held.

"But only after Bella has shown us Raven's Grove thoroughly," Jasper added. "Last year when we arrived you promised us a grand tour of the forest. Due to all the circumstances, we never really found the opportunity for it. I think it is highly proper we take you up on that offer again."

"Oh yes, wouldn't that be lovely?" Alice agreed. A roguish grin split her face in half. "You could show us where you and Edward would meet up in secret!"

The statement caused Bella's cheeks to flush madly and Edward to clear his voice several times. "W-who said we ever met up in Raven's Grove?"

"Oh, we have a feeling you did," said Jasper.

"Speaking of which, you will have to beg my pardon for my inquisitive and curious nature but…I must know how this whole masquerade came to be," Athar said. "I have been wondering for weeks now, trying to make sense of it."

"So have I," Emmett agreed, deeming it acceptable to wait a few more minutes to hear Edward's story before fencing him. "Especially Rose's part in it." He side-eyed his wife as she hid her flustered cheeks behind her pink fan.

"I certainly do too," Esmeralda said.

Edward cleared his voice with some lemonade, wishing he was drinking something stronger. "Where to even begin," he murmured, looking around as if to make certain no servant was close to overhear them. While Cullen was gone and they were safe, he still would never openly declare being the man behind the mask.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Alice asked.

Edward downed his lemonade, his eyes quickly glancing at the ceiling as if praying to a higher power for this to be over quickly.

"Well…I never really planned for it to happen..." A long pause followed as the air grew tense with expectation. Then Edward started speaking, and the more he spoke, the easier it became for him.

"It was a year and a half before the eventual collapse of the French monarchy. My first years at the university, I spent immersed in my studies in everything from science, philosophy to literature. I took fencing lessons as well, taught by wonderful professors. I made many friends. I was happy there, I learned much. News of what happened in Paris reached us, of course. One of my best friends was a Frenchman…a Parisian. He wanted to return to his family to make sure that they were safe as news of unrest escalated." Something flickered in Edward's eyes. "I went with him."

"There, I found a sense of unease of which I had never felt before. My friend wanted to stay with his family, but I tried to convince them to flee with me — either to England or to Angloa. This was before they started using the guillotine, before they executed the monarchs. I suppose it is easy to ask someone else to leave their home. Had it been me, I would probably have remained as well."

He sighed, leaning back on the sofa. Many eyes were downcast as they recalled the news they had received from the mainland. People couldn't begin to comprehend the horror that was happening in the glamorous French capital. But news that the streets of Paris ran red had everyone talking and appalled at such treatment, especially people within the Angloan aristocracy. The lower classes of Angloan society were divided. Some thought it a blatant waste of human life, an atrocious act that should go punished. Others could, to a degree, understand. There had been famines years before the uprising, people weren't getting enough food while the king and queen lived in excess in Versailles.

"I didn't return to England. After what I had seen in Paris…realizing how shut in I had been at university—even in Angloa—I wanted to discover the world I lived in, immerse myself in it. But such a thing was not possible sitting on a bench in a stuffy lecture hall or reading a book. Thus, my travels took me to Italy. I spent the better part of a year and a half studying rigorously under a fencing master. He was a drunkard," Edward paused, "and probably the best teacher I ever had."

Edward looked apologetically at his parents. "I am sorry that I led you to believe I was still in England. I don't think you would have approved."

"We would not have," Carlisle agreed with a curt nod. But he refrained from further interrupting his son, keen on hearing what came next.

"I made friends with many people, learned skills I never thought I'd have any use for…One time I broke a friend from prison. I was clumsy and inexperienced, but I managed to get him out. There was something about it that thrilled me. I do not know whether it was the excitement of breaking the rules or the idea of getting caught — but I saw it as an adventure. I did it a few more times, getting better and better, until I eventually failed at one point and had to flee the province."

Edward looked down at his hands. "News of a war against France eventually reached me as I was headed for Bordeaux to find a ship home. I got caught up in the conflict of '91, right at the end of it."

"You were at war?" Esmeralda exclaimed with wide eyes, unable to believe her child had been in the midst of such a horrid situation.

"I never fought as a soldier. But I was witness to the battles. I saw dozens of Angloan ships fire at the town and the town fire back. Many men lost their lives in the span of a few days. There were no ships going to Coldwick or Wessport, but I found one for Plymouth. Soon I was back at Oxford and back to my studies. But after what I had seen, the two years I had spent abroad, I…I couldn't return to my previous life. At the university, most students spend half their time at gatherings and balls or gambling and the other half recovering from the effects of excessive alcohol consumption. Many didn't even go to the lectures but sent people who they paid to take notes for them. I… didn't feel like I belonged in that world. I was a humble Angloan, cast into a stuffy society I didn't quite understand, the amount of ignorance most fops and peacocks expressed was alarming."

"Well, brother, touring the continent, exploring its cultures and hidden wonders is très à la mode now. I hear more and more are doing it," Rosalie added in a sarcastic tone. It coaxed a strained laugh from Edward.

"I had lost contact with my French friend. Thus, in the spring of '93, when news of the atrocities committed in Paris reached me, I went there, hoping to find him and whisk his family away. I arrived to find that his family had fallen victim to the guillotine. My friend was nowhere to be found." Edward's hands had entwined as he leaned forward. "I—" he sighed, shaking his head as his eyes grew into an empty stare. "There was a lot of blood spilt, many lives lost for no real cause. I had seen people suffer of starvation the last time I had been there. This, I suppose, was their long overdue revenge." He cleared his voice, the room completely silent as they hung onto his every word.

"I decided to return to Angloa, hoping to find peace here. I spent another few months trying to find my friend from abroad, but as we came into 1794 and winter turned to spring, I surmised that he had fallen victim to the guillotine like his family. The spring of last year I wrote a letter to Rose, letting her know that I had been in Angloa for a few months but to keep it a secret. I was still processing the supposed death of my friend," Edward continued. "I had no strength to meet you all and explain the entire situation."

Rosalie jumped in. "I told him that mama and papa had purchased a townhouse in Hayes. It was his idea to go there before coming to Safeira," she said.

"I arrived by ship in Coldwick and heard strange rumors about a certain captain and his treatment of Hayes. Something, call it intuition, a reflex, made me disguise myself as I arrived in Hayes for the first time. After bearing witness to the type of man Forster was and the way he treated Hayes, I decided to remain incognito for the time being…just until you — my family — were all here." Edward raked agitated fingers through his hair. "I started spying on Forster and his soldiers…thinking I could report him to the authorities in Safeira if I gathered enough evidence."

"You were the drunkard spending the days in Lucy's tavern, weren't you?" Bella asked.

"No one pays much attention to a poor drunk," Edward nodded. "The day Billy Black spoke out against him on the market square I was there, I heard every word, I saw the conviction in his eyes." Edward frowned. "I saw the pain and suffering in those listening to him, the need and want for change, much like people had desperately wished for a change in France. I didn't want Hayes to end up the same, but I also didn't want this town to lose hope when it was already so scarce. When Billy was thrown into prison — the only man who dared to speak out against Forster — I knew I had to do something. Men like Forster don't allow men like Billy Black to live for long."

"What if you had failed attempting to rescue him?" asked Alice. "What if you had been imprisoned as well?"

"Then we might not be sitting here now," Edward said. He looked at Bella. "I am glad I saved Mr. Black."

She lingered with her gaze on him. Had Edward never decided to act, Forster and Wilson might still be ruling over Hayes. She and Edward might never have had the time to form an acquaintance, the strong bond which had emerged between them both in and out of disguise. "So am I," she said.

"When I decided to rescue Mr. Black, I never intended to disguise myself as General Cullen. I found some dark rags and used some soot and grime to hide my features, I covered my hair with a black bandana and hoped that no one would recognize me. I must confess that I went to Coldwick and stole a stallion from one of the smaller landowners." Before his father could protest, Edward interrupted him. "I have returned him now, mind you. I couldn't very well keep him as Edward Masen lest the entire countryside find out who I am."

"I think some already suspect," Bella mumbled, patting his thigh. "Even if they haven't said anything…" She kept thinking of Lucy.

"I cannot keep something I intended to borrow." A small laugh overtook him, recalling the night he had saved Billy. "I hid Mr. Black away in a small hut in Raven's Grove. I washed up and returned to Hayes to see the damage I had done and to see if anyone had recognized me. I uh…I was quite astonished when Mr. Simmons spread the word that Cullen had been the one to rescue Black. I decided to use it to my advantage. I acquired better clothing and a mask that would cover my entire face and head yet allow me to move and fight freely."

"What about the persona you created when you returned?" asked Emmett. "Whose genius idea was that?"

Edward glanced at Rosalie.

She grew flustered and Esmeralda was the quickest to speak. "I am astonished you would keep such a secret from your own family. Your brother might be thickheaded, Rosalie, but I never thought you would be as well."

Rosalie shrugged. "I thought it made sense." She gestured at Edward. "You spoke of what you had seen in Hayes, of Captain Forster and the brutes that made up at least half of the Royal Guard. If Edward returned to us as himself," she said as she pointed at him, "he would raise immediate suspicion. A new young man from out of town that had studied science, philosophy and fencing at Oxford and abroad would most assuredly land him in Forster's prison. If Edward truly wished to have an impact, I told him he would have to disguise himself in daylight, at least until things calmed down in Hayes."

Her reasoning made sense to the rest of the family. "Had I not followed my dear sister's advice, I would probably—as she has stated—have landed in Forster's prison."

Silence settled in the salon, only the breeze coming in through the open window and the clock on the mantle of the fireplace next to them could be heard.

Edward cleared his voice after a while, sensing that the mood in the room was becoming rather subdued, pensive even. He cast a glance Emmett's way. "Well, brother…I understand you have been practicing for some time now?"

Emmett perked up immediately on the sofa, grinning widely. "Last time you caught me off guard, Masen, it will not happen again."

Edward stood up. "I like the confidence, my good man, but I think it will do you little good."

Both Rosalie and Bella rolled their eyes as their respective husbands started unbuttoning their coats and heading for the patio.

As the rest of the family headed out after them, Athar walked alongside Bella. "Has Mr. Masen expressed any thoughts on what he wishes to do next?" he asked under the pressing heat of the afternoon sun.

"You wish to steal him from me and take him to Safeira?" she chuckled.

"He has strong convictions which could be put to good use helping us in the government. Or he might wish to pursue a military career..."

"I think you would have to speak with my husband about that, Sir Athar," Bella said.

Emmett and Edward faced each other, stripped down to their shirts. They had foregone the protective vests and masks used for fencing.

"Do you not think he will be restless here?" Athar asked.

"Maybe, but I think, after the year we've had, he might need some peace and calm. Perhaps, in the future, he might think of a political or military career," she said. "Although, knowing how unconventional he can be, I wouldn't be so certain."

Emmett and Edward crossed blades, waiting for a signal to start their duel.

"The world needs more men like your husband…" Athar trailed off. "And Billy Black, Jacob Black, Lucas Ridge and Maria Haste" he continued.

The clash of steel interrupted their conversation as Emmett and Edward commenced fencing. The smile on his face as he sparred with Emmett warmed her heart.

"And Willard Athar," she added.

"Oh, come now—"

"You have done just as much, sir. Should my husband ever go to Safeira, I suspect he would only do so on the condition that he would work closely with you."

"I will not be in Safeira for some time," Athar said. "I am to be sent north to deal with the aftermath of the uprisings there and bring stability to the region."

"I wish you all the luck then, Sir Athar," Bella said sincerely.

An exclamation of defeat and disappointment rocked the courtyard as Edward sent Emmett's sword flying through the air and caught it, staring him down with his infamous Cullen grin.

"Again?" he asked, throwing the sword to Emmett.

His brother-in-law caught it and squeezed the hilt as he wiped the sweat from his brow. His scowl of defeat turned into a grin as well.

"Again!"

A/N: First of all, I would like to apologize for the big delay in posting this final chapter. This hiatus was completely unplanned on my part, I had planned to get the chapter out before Christmas but time just ran through my fingers. I'd therefore like to thank you immensely for your patience! I'd also like to thank the readers to reached out to me via PM, your messages were heartwarming 3
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and thus the end of this fic! Speciall thanks to Moonwinks, my beta. Without her this fic would not have been finished now in January, I can assure you, so show her some love too!

Now I take a break from the world of Angloa and move on to other projects I'm currently planning (don't worry though, we'll definitely return to Angloa ;) ). I have a few stories in the pipeline, I don't know when those might be posted however, this time I'd want to be sure that I'm happy with the end before posting the fic (and not do a bunch of rewrites, thus delaying my posting schedule!). I'll probably post updates and such on my (much neglected) Tumblr page, I hope to have something out around May-July but that's being very ambitious, it all depends on how much free time I have now that I've gotten a new job with more responsibilities.

Finally, I'd like to express my deepest gratitude to you all for being such wonderful readers! Your reviews certainly brighten my day and knowing that so many people have read this fic makes me so endlessly happy! So THANK YOU!

I wish you a good start to 2020 and hope to post something on here soon!

Cheers for now,

Isabelle