Venetian Moon: The Promise

By: Bunniko

Disclaimer: I own no rights to Sailor Moon by Naoko-san or "Dangerous Beauty" of Regency Enterprises.

Summary: 16^th century Venice. The Lunar Court is reincarnated in a Paradise of sorts.

Note: Due to the setting, the English names from the translated manga suit my needs best. (With the exceptions of the Generals.) This is Part 5. I recommend you read the Introduction, Part1: The Encounter, Part 2: The Connections, Part 3: The Beginning, Part 4: The Seduction and Part 5: The Illusion first.

AN 2: I know I posted this the night before (2-12-01), but I had to because my computer was acting screwy and I thought I might lose the whole thing. This is the edited, perfected version ; Ah yes, I AM a perfectionist!

"Venice, 1583 - the richest, most decadent city in Europe. Its women were treated as property – few even knew how to read.

But there were some who enjoyed a different fate . . ." ~ opening of "Dangerous Beauty"

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Darien and Matteo were aboard the French ship Marie. They were headed for Cyprus. The first wave, which had carried off Vincenzo, Jerome, Netheniel and a host of other lower ranking nobles, was already seeing battle with Turk troops. In another day, they would join their friends, their fellow Venetians and their French allies in a bloody turf war against the Turks.

The last night before they landed, Darien and Matteo both took time to remember the precious moments with their soulmates and to think about the future. It was the last time they could afford to do so until after the battle was over.

The next morning, with all thoughts of home, love and the future pushed away, they joined their comrades on the battlefield. Approximately the same time that Darien and Matteo joined the battle, the plague began to make its slow burn through Venice's most susceptible: the poor, the hungry, the very young and the very old.

Even as hundreds died every day, the courtesans continued their normal lives. The young and the strong nobles, the idealistic and the highly patriotic nobles had left to serve their time and risk their lives for fair Venice. The old, the infirm and the cowardly but rich who could buy others to fight for them, remained at home. Together, those left behind, the courtesans and those too afraid to fight, pretended that nothing was wrong. They had perfect faith that Venice would emerge successfully from both the war and the bothersome epidemic. They danced the night away, enjoyed each other's company, ate far more than they really needed to and ignored the growing turmoil of the lower classes. It wasn't that they were totally insensitive, though in hindsight, they were foolish and careless. They were just so confident in the future that they were already celebrating! But through the lenses of the poor, the sick, the dying and the frightened, this was just another example of the excesses of the upper classes. In their eyes, God had abandoned them. The zealots were right there to take advantage of the growing fear that God had cursed them. It was the zealots who came up with the reasons why God had damned them. When the uneducated masses fall prey to propaganda, when man's fear prevails over common sense, tragedies befall the entire human community.

In the country, Bunny, Mina, Amy, Lita and Raye were isolated from the turmoil and pain. The girls, at a suggestion from Raye, had all clipped a lock of hair from their lover before he had left. When the girls had been younger, they had all saved up a little money from doing odd jobs for Matilda. One day, a peddler selling lockets had induced the girls to part with their hard-earned money. The day their loves left for war, those lockets had finally been put to use. Each lock of hair was wrapped with a piece of paper. On that paper was written a prayer to protect him in battle and in travel and to bring him home safely. The lock of hair and paper were placed inside the locket and the locket would remain about the neck until he came home safely. The locket also became a source of comfort. Whenever fear or loneliness grew too much, the girls would clasp the locket tightly in their hands and focus on their beloveds.

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When Beryl and Signora Mancuso arrived, they brought with them the mothers of each of Darien's friends. Also joining them would be Beryl's closest friend in Rome, Tatiana Veretti. They arrived in state, in ostentatious carriages, with enormous trunks. Each one wore a dress whose modesty was only surpassed by a nun's. Only their faces and hands were visible. Each woman's hair was tightly coiled about her head in a most unflattering style. In contrast, the five girls who had tumbled out in the foyer to see what was going on were much more provocative in appearance. Though they were dressed in fine gowns, the necklines were lower, their arms were bare and their hair was down. Their mere appearance was highly shocking to the prim and proper minds of the new arrivals.

For a tense moment, the women stared at each other warily. Signora Trentini stared at Raye in shock and disapproval. Beryl's hate-filled gaze never left Bunny. Signora Mancuso, always a frail woman and now suffering from consumption, clung to Beryl's arm, looking about her in confusion. Signoras Treviso and Viscusi were blatantly staring at the girls in horror, shocked by their improper attire and appearance. As the silence grew uncomfortable, Signora Luccese decided, for the sake of her son, to attempt a truce.

Crossing the foyer, she approached her daughter-in-law. "Mina, dear, how nice to see you again!" She smiled as warmly as she could, reminding herself that she was the daughter of a powerful man and the wife of her son. In spite of the young blonde's many faults, she knew Matteo loved her and she was determined to treat Mina with the same respect due a properly raised noblewoman. She supposed that Mina couldn't be blamed for all her faults since her family had abandoned her. Suddenly her smile grew truly genuine as she realized she could use this time to mold Mina into a proper wife! She gushed on, to fill the awkward silence. "Isn't it lovely? Signora Mancuso has invited us here to escape all the unpleasantness in the city. Now we shall have a chance to get better acquainted!"

Mina silently sent a prayer to God in thanks for her love of acting. Summoning up her best smile, she returned the woman's words in the same vein, wanting to please Matteo and to have a good relationship with her mother-in-law. "Indeed Mother Luccese, it is a gift of the Lord."

Ashamed, Jerome's mother tried the same tactic with Raye. Raye tried very hard to mimic Mina, but both lacked the genuineness that was quickly becoming evident in Mina and Signora Luccese's conversation. Their stilted conversation finally died off, leaving another silence in the hall. Beryl filled it rather suddenly, raising the discomfort level as well as her voice.

"I will not have these whores in my house!" she shrilly declared. Signora's eyes rolled upwards at the word 'whores' and by the end of Beryl's shriek, she had collapsed in a dead faint. Beryl staggered under the sudden and unexpected weight of her mother-in-law, but her icy gaze never left Bunny. "You will remove yourselves at once!" she ordered imperially, flicking her gaze to encompass Amy and Lita as well.

Mina stiffened. "You will not command my sisters to leave." Beryl's sneer conveyed what she thought of Mina's exclamation.

Lita rose to the challenge. "This house is part of the reward Darien received for complying with his family's wishes and wedding a bitch like you!" Beryl paled and several of the women present gasped. Luckily, Signora Mancuso had not awakened or she would have no doubt fainted again at Lita's words. Lita ignored the reactions, going for blood now. "Darien alone owns this place and he told us to stay here until his return."

Beryl actually hissed. Though they had kept their silence during the exchange, the mothers of Darien's friends secretly wondered at Beryl's behavior. Noble women were trained from birth to be silent, gentle, soft-spoken, polite and even-tempered. Beryl was actually being insolent! It was simply shocking!

Finally, the tense silence was broken, this time by Tatiana's arrival. Sweeping in late, she gasped as she noticed Signora Mancuso. Quickly she prodded the girls, assuming they were servants, into helping the woman get ensconced in a bedchamber. The mothers, Beryl and Tatiana then set about selecting rooms, still far too close for comfort in the girls' opinions. Beryl even had gone so far as to ferret out Bunny and Darien's room. Bunny, entering her room, had been shocked and hurt to discover that Beryl had ordered all of Darien's things removed to her room. She wavered between anger and devastation, but refused to cry, knowing Beryl would find pleasure in her pain.

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The next day promised to be no better. Out of courtesy to the noblewomen, the girls arose early, wore their most modest gowns and styled their hair in a more confined manner. They joined the women for breakfast. Breakfast was a strained and silent affair; the only conversation was a discussion between Signoras Luccese and Trentini. They had caught themselves up in a detailed discussion enumerating all the things that Raye and Mina would have to do and obtain in order to fill their proper roles.

After nearly an hour of lectures on the proper gowns, shoes, hairstyles, manners and the like, Beryl rose from her seat and inquired nastily if the 'whores' had finished packing. She further informed them that one of the carriages was already waiting outside to take them back to Venice. It was clear she expected no disobedience. Mina took charge of the argument, declaring again that her sisters would not be forced to leave. Lita, Bunny, Amy and Raye all took a great interest in the argument, though the older women, especially Signora Mancuso seemed shocked. Tatiana held her napkin to her lips, struggling not to laugh. The argument, however, was staved off by the sudden appearance of a messenger, looking for Amy.

All eyes swiveled to the petite girl who read the missive swiftly, her blue eyes widening. She rose politely, excusing herself with an uncharacteristic air of distraction, then hurried out of the room. The four girls glanced at each other in surprise, murmured their own apologies and raced after her. They flew down the corridor til the reached Amy's room. Mina, the last to arrive, slammed the door heavily behind her. Four pairs of worried eyes bored into Amy's blue ones.

"Amy, what's happened? What is it?" Raye demanded.

"It's Mother Petrucho. She says that something horrible has happened and that we must return at once. She begs us to return swiftly." Each of the girl's eyes filled with worry and confusion. Not one of them spoke as their thoughts raced. Even though they had parted on awkward terms, love and loyalty still burned bright, calling the girls to obey Mother Petrucho's plea. Without a word, they packed up; gathering up treasured items and clothing hastily. Bunny, Amy and Lita waited inside the carriage that Beryl had arranged for early that morning while Raye and Mina bid polite farewells to their mother-in-laws. All five were so caught up in their concerns that not one noticed Beryl as she watched them leave. If they had, the slightly triumphant look in her eyes, the evil grin on her face, would have chilled them to the bone.

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The fighting had been fierce from the moment the battle begun. Both Darien and Matteo's battle armours were stained with blood, both friend and foe's. Darien had held his father as he died.

Signore Mancuso had taken a short sword to the stomach yet had continued fighting until he lost too much blood to stand. The man who had stabbed him died by Darien's hand. Darien stayed at his father's side throughout the fight, amazed by the passion and fervor in his father's eyes. Signore Mancuso fought fiercely, occasionally raising his voice to bellow out patriotic phrases, which served to heat the blood of both sides. His love for Venice was displayed by the wanton way he spilled enemy blood . . . and his own. Though his wound was grievous, he never slackened until his own blood slicked the ground beneath him. His sword slipped from his hand, his body slid nervelessly to the ground. Darien caught him at the last moment, dragging him to the sidelines, leaning him up against a tree. For some reason he couldn't quite define, Darien didn't want his father's last view of the world to be the sight of men hacking each other apart. He didn't want the last sounds his father heard to be the screams of the dying, the wounded, the battle-crazed. He wanted his father's final breath to be clean, not tainted with the dust of battle. Signore Mancuso was beyond the pain, beyond awareness as he reclined, staring up at a beautiful blue sky. Overhead, a gentle sun rained warm light down on the carnage of man. A sea-scented breeze became a part of his last breath. Whispered on that gentle wind, "For Venice!" the last words of a patriot.

When Signore Mancuso's soul departed, Darien paused for only a moment before rejoining the battle. From his father's body, he took his jewelry, the crest that proclaimed him a senator, the signet ring of the house of Mancuso and his father's sword. He would return later, if possible, to bury his father. He could not stomach the idea of his father's belongings becoming the property of some battlefield scavenger who spent his nights robbing the dead and the dying. Sheathing his own sword at his side, he fought til nightfall with his father's blade, until the encroaching darkness necessitated a temporary cessation of combat.

Each side retreated to their own camp, but watchfires were built high, their light piercing the veil of night. He sat in its fickle illumination with Matteo. It was there, eating something poorly cooked and better left unidentified, sitting in silence, forcing back memories, that Netheniel found them.

His long brown hair was matted with blood and grime, his clothing and armour gore-soaked, a cocky grin on his face. Matteo shook his head, his own white locks battle-decorated. Darien looked at his unshaven, gore covered friend and hid a grimace as he speculated about his own appearance. Jerome and Vincenzo ambled up a moment later, equally smattered with blood, gore, sweat and dirt. They ate in silence, accompanied Darien in burying his father in silence, then returned to a watchfire, to sit, staring into the flames in silence. They slept in turns fitfully, haunted by dreams of home only to awake in hell. The cries of the dying occasionally rent the air, making true sleep even more elusive.

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No one greeted them when they entered the main room. Lita led a charge up the stairs, meeting up with an exhausted Mother Petrucho on her way down. Her face was pale, her hair in disarray, her body thin, the basket of linens she carried appearing to be far too heavy for her. Lita snatched it from her, whirling about, heading for the kitchen. Raye and Mina were the next closest and they supported Mother Petrucho, coercing her into adjourning to her room and getting some rest. Bunny and Amy entered the room the girls had once shared. It stank with the distinctive odor of sickness. The drapes were closed, sealing the room in a gloomy darkness. Two women lay in the gloom, moaning and tossing.

Amy ran to her mother's side, Bunny to Matilda's. Basins of water were sitting near each woman, and the girls gently bathed the sick women, washing away the fever-induced sweat and trying to cool them down. Mina and Raye joined Amy and Bunny once they had been assured that Mother Petrucho was resting. Lita came upstairs with some broth. Bunny and Amy were appointed as nurses to Matilda and Leila respectively. Lita handled cooking and washing. Raye, Mina and, to a lesser extent, the other three undertook a deep cleaning of the house, beginning with the sickroom.

Though Mother Petrucho had always managed to spare her girls such menial labors, their determination soon had the house smelling and looking like a healthy, happy home. The sickroom was now bright, there were always clean linens and fresh water and good food available. The girls grew accustomed to their old dresses again. Matilda and Leila were not recovering, but they weren't worsening either.

Within two weeks though, they were running low on foodstuffs. Lita and Bunny set out for market. Though food was much more expensive now, they weren't concerned. Lita and Bunny were supervising the loading of their purchases into the gondola when the crowd turned ugly. Some poor young boys in ragged clothes caught hold of both girls. Bunny attempted to struggle free, stumbling back. Unwilling to let her get off easy, punches were thrown at her, as if from all sides. She managed to take a few punches rather well, until one caught her completely off-balance, sending her splashing into the canal. She came up spluttering, aided by the gondolier more out of the knowledge that she had money rather than any real compassion on his part.

Normally, the sight of Bunny falling into the canal would have frozen Lita in place. However, the night Netheniel had comforted her so tenderly seemed to have soothed her demons. She only stayed still long enough to see Bunny come up, furious but alive. Her concern made her an easy target though. A woman slapped her; another spit on her. Two boys punched her. She stumbled back under the blows, occasionally hitting back as her temper flared. A solid blow caught the side of her face, sending her reeling back from the crowd. She found herself on a narrow walk, between the canal and a building. The crowd was forced to thin as it strained to reach her and Bunny and the gondolier took advantage, pulling Lita into the gondola, away from the cursing crowd.

The next night, Matilda took a turn for the worse. By morning Leila had also. Even Mother Petrucho didn't seem too healthy. Leila lost track of the present, calling out for Evan. Amy couldn't comfort her. Matilda stayed lucid to the end. She interrogated each of the girls, desperate to hear that they were happy, that their young men were treating them right. They assured her that they were. She passed away peacefully in the afternoon, content that her girls were safe. Leila died a few hours later, never returning to the present, still calling for Evan.

Late that afternoon, while Mother Petrucho tossed and turned in a restless sleep, Bunny and Mina carried Matilda out. Her body was covered in a sheet; a gondola half-filled with the dead waited outside the house. Lita and Raye were preceded by Amy as they carried out Leila's sheet-draped body. As the two men manning the barge of the dead unceremoniously dumped Matilda's body on the pile, Amy took a step back, then another. Tears blurred her eyes as she moved away from the horrible scene. She failed to realize how much distance she had put between her and her friends until she became aware that she was encircled by hostile faces.

In front of her was a courtesan. Her colored hair fell over her face. She was tied in a frame that resembled a doorframe. Her hands hung limply, stretched high over her head and to the sides, bound at the wrists to the corners of the frame. Her feet were bound apart as well. Her gown's back was ripped away, her skin marred with bloody lash strokes. Amy knew from the way her head lolled that the woman was dead. She swung her gaze away, only to find a more horrific sight. An empty frame and a sneering man in black robes filled her vision.

By this time, Leila's body had been taken. The four girls looked around in confusion for Amy. Then they heard yells.

"Kill the whore!"

"Make her pay for what her kind has brought upon us!"

Lita and Bunny winced at the familiar shouts. All knew instinctively that Amy was in danger. Mina took charge. "Bunny, Lita, you stay." When both looked ready to argue, she continued. "Raye and I are nobility now." Not that the rabble would know that, but she hoped it would prevent them from arguing. It didn't, so she was forced to continue. "You and Lita are still courtesans. And besides you are both still bruised." A moan from inside the house settled the issue and Lita and Bunny surrendered, rushing in to check on Mother Petrucho. Raye and Mina rushed off to aid Amy.

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Beryl was in excruciating pain. Her baby was coming early. She lay in her bedchamber, screaming in agony. Signora Mancuso had summoned a midwife only to learn that the midwives, like the doctors, had already succumbed or were succumbing to the plague. An apprentice midwife had been found, but the poor girl was intimidated by Beryl. She was also very uncertain, having never witnessed a difficult delivery. They had already ascertained that the baby needed to be turned, but when the poor child had tried to explain to Beryl what needed to be done, Beryl had gone into almost an hour long rant about various Biblical admonitions. In the end, after twenty hours of labor, when Beryl was too exhausted to fight, she was unable to prevent them. Signora Mancuso stood in the doorway, looking in on Beryl.

Her red hair was sweat-soaked and matted. Her red-brown eyes were dull and pain-glazed. Her face was paler than the white nightgown she wore. She lay as still as death, her breathing shallow, her eyelids struggling with each slow blink, as if begging to stay closed. Her head was lolled to the side as she stared at nothing. Signora Luccese moved then, pinning Beryl's arms down. Signora Mancuso turned away just before the apprentice turned the babe, but she wasn't able to escape Beryl's scream.

An hour later, Beryl gave birth to a healthy, fat, screaming son, who seemed none the worse for his difficult birth. Beryl never saw him. Her eyes no longer saw the present. In her mind, she was envisioning the horrors she hoped Darien's whore was suffering. The image of Darien and that whore dancing suddenly filled her mind. She knew that she was dying. She knew just as certainly that as soon as she was gone, he would go to her. A tear slid down her face, not a tear of sadness, but a tear of envy. She hated them for their happiness. Her last thoughts were of the revenge she had dreamt up. She imagined Darien returning home to find his mistress scarred and mutilated. She imagined her face as he rejected her. A cruel smile drifted across her face as she grew still.

Signora Luccese turned from the washing of the babe to Beryl. She lay there, glassy-eyed, a chilling smile on her face. "She's dead," she murmured, crossing herself. "God have mercy on her soul." Then she looked down on the squalling, hungry infant. "And on yours, motherless one."

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Signora Mancuso did not recover. Convinced her son and husband were as dead as her daughter-in-law, she barely glanced at her grandson. She withdrew from reality more with each passing day. The apprentice found a healthy wet-nurse for the lad, but he still had no name. Yet he thrived, even though he got very little affection and was viewed more as a burden than as a gift.

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The battlefield stank. It was a Sunday and a truce had been negotiated. Each side was combing the dead for the living. Vincenzo and Jerome were looking for their friends, searching both the dead and the living. Vincenzo found Darien and Matteo together. Matteo had taken a bolt in his right shoulder and Darien was trying to help remove it. However, a deep gash in Darien's left arm was causing difficulties. Vincenzo gazed at both of them, having not yet been noticed. Ascertaining that they would both survive, he leaned his right side laconically against a tree and cleared his throat. When both looked at him, he gave them a cocky grin. "Lemme guess. I should see what you did to the other guy?" Darien smiled, a strange sight on his gore-covered face, but Matteo only rolled his eyes.

"Do something worthwhile!" he ordered. Vincenzo slowly complied, removing the bolt with almost insulting ease to Darien's way of thinking. Then he placed cloths over both men's wounds and they headed back to camp.

Jerome's luck wasn't quite as good at Vincenzo's. While searching, he crossed over a dead Turk. Only problem was the Turk was only half-dead. He attacked Jerome, sinking a dagger into Jerome's right thigh. Jerome fell to one knee, stunned by the raging pain. Instinct took over, knocking the man's dagger away. Drawing his own dagger, Jerome buried it in the Turk's chest, right up to the hilt. He stayed like that for a long moment before finally hobbling on, determined to complete his task before seeking a medic. He literally fell over Netheniel.

Netheniel was lying half-propped up against -- something. Jerome thought it was a rock, but there were bodies draped over everything. Netheniel's shirt was soaked in blood and his color was bad. His eyes were half-closed, but he looked at Jerome with recognition. "Hey."

"Neth! Are you hurt?"

"Yeah." Netheniel replied, too slowed by loss of blood to snap at his friend's dumb question. He lifted his shirt, revealing a long, shallow cut to his chest. The slash extended from his right abdomen to an inch or two below his ribs on the left. It wasn't especially deep, but it was obvious that it had been bleeding for quite a while now. Jerome, unable to support Netheniel on his own, was forced to call two men over to help them return to camp.

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Vincenzo enjoyed being the golden child, the only uninjured one for the rest of the truce. As soon as the truce ended though, he was back out there, drenched in blood. The war was going badly. Before his friends had fully healed, orders came. Cyprus was lost. They were to return to Venice at once. By the time the ships set sail, Darien, Matteo and Jerome were moving about with relative ease, though they were still healing. Netheniel was still confined to bed-rest. Leaving with many less men than they had arrived with, all five managed to get on the same boat. This proved to be the only thing that save Vincenzo's life when his charmed existence ran out. The third night at sea, Vincenzo came down with a fever.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. He had to be isolated, but Darien made sure that he was well cared for. Vincenzo pulled through, many pounds lighter, much paler, but looking forward to seeing his sweet Amy again. The night Vincenzo was allowed up and about again, the five spent the night on deck, studying the night sky and discussing their plans for when they finally returned home.

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Raye and Mina couldn't get to Amy. They could see her, bound like the dead courtesan. The back of her dress had been ripped away and a man stood behind her, a whip in his hand. A zealot stood before her, denouncing her, heaping accusations and blame on her head.

Raye snorted, "He sure doesn't know Amy." Mina nodded, still straining to get through the crowd. On the other side, she could see a man easily moving through the crowd. He was hooded, dressed in the same black as the zealots, which made the crowd part for him.

A sharp crack rent the air and Raye and Mina stared in helpless horror at a thin line marring Amy's back. The horror began to fade as rage boiled up within them as the line turned red and blood began to drip down her exposed skin. A soft cry had escaped Amy, but she struggled to stave off tears. It wasn't the actual whip that hurt, she reasoned as she waited for the next blow. It was the anticipation of the pain that hurt. The knowing it was coming, the helplessness to stop it.

The hooded man had reached her now. He stepped between Amy and the whip-wielder. He drew a knife, slicing through her bonds swiftly. Tossing her over his shoulder, he spoke only one word in his ominous voice. "Move!"

That one word scattered the crowd. Easily intimidated, they found him to be more specter than man. Indeed, by nightfall, the story had spread that Satan himself had rescued one of his whores.

Raye escorted the man downstairs and offered him some stew. He gratefully accepted. Mina joined Bunny and Mother Petrucho. Lita gently cleansed Amy's back and applied a slave to the ugly red ridge.

Bunny was sitting beside Mother Petrucho. "How is she?"

"She's too weak. She hasn't the strength. She used it all caring for Matilda and Leila."

Mina hung her head. "Two mothers lost."

Bunny spoke softly. "But you still have your mother-in-law. She seems to be trying to care."

"But she'll never love me the way Mother Petrucho did." Mina was crying openly now. Bunny slipped her arms about her twin. She was already cried out and didn't know what to say.

Raye set a trencher down in front of him and managed to control her curiosity long enough for him to eat a bite or two. "Who are you?"

The hood tilted slightly. Then the hood was pushed back, and Raye found herself staring into eyes that were so like Amy's that she got chills. "Evan." She breathed. Shock filled the man's eyes, but before he could speak, she answered his unspoken question. "She died calling for you."

She instantly cursed her runaway tongue as the man's eyes clouded with pain. "So she's gone. I'm too late."

"I – I'm sorry, I"

He cut her off. "My daughter . . . tell me of her." He sat silently as Raye obeyed.

Lita cared for Amy in silence. The girl lay on her stomach, head cradled in her arms, deep in thought. Lita thought it best to leave her in peace . . . for a while.

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Word had finally reached the Venetian fleet about the plague in Venice. As the ships raced home, each man prayed for their loved ones.

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Mother Petrucho and Signora Mancuso passed away on the same day. Only one was genuinely mourned. With no reason to stay, the girls packed up and returned to Darien's home, to honor the wished of their lovers. Evan accompanied them. He and Amy became very close, finding a loving parent-child relationship. Evan extended his heart to all the girls and they all grew very fond of him.

They arrived at the manor in due course. With Beryl gone, they were treated with more courtesy. Their presence soon began to change things. Raye and Mina made extra efforts to get along with their mothers-in-law. Bunny took charge of Darien's son, christening him Daryl. She respected Beryl's memory as his mother, but she loved him, both for his own sake and for Darien's. Under her loving care, Daryl flourished. Lita and Amy began to study how to behave like proper noble ladies with Raye and Mina. Signoras Viscusi and Trentini began to take notice of them.

Mina became violently ill three days after their arrival. At first everyone was frightened that the plague had caught her, but when they learned she was expecting, they made a collaborative effort to pamper and protect her. The stress she had been under had made her more delicate and Beryl's death only served to haunt them.

That was where their men found them.

Amy was walking in the gardens with Evan. Vincenzo was furiously jealous, until she saw him. She flew across the garden into his arms, laughing and sobbing. It was several minutes before he was properly introduced to her father.

Raye was deep in conversation with her mother-in-law when Jerome suddenly lifted her up, bid his mother a polite good afternoon and carried his wildcat off to their bedroom.

Lita was baking molasses cookies for Mina when a hand reached out for one of the ones that were cooling. Reflexively, she slapped the hand away, scolding, "Netheniel, be patient." She returned to stirring her molasses mixture for perhaps ten seconds before she froze. Turning, she stared at his broadly grinning face. "Netheniel!" He swept her into his arms and the cookies were forgotten as he kissed her hello.

Mina was sleeping. Matteo's mother had scolded him quite strenuously, insisting that he must not surprise, excite or upset her in any way. He was dying to see her, to hold her, to the changes his child was making to her body. He slipped in quietly, standing in the shadows, gazing at her. Finally, unable to resist her a moment longer, he slid to the floor beside her. Kneeling there, he gently kissed her awake. When she awoke, he moved to the bed to kiss her senseless.

Bunny was in the nursery. She was standing near the window, sunlight glinting off her blond buns. Daryl slept peacefully in her arms as she hummed a soothing tune. Darien's heart melted at the sight of his son in her arms. It took this image for the realization that he was free to fully sink in. He crossed the room quickly. Bunny turned, her mouth a perfect "O". He gazed down at his son, running a finger gently over his cheek. Then he lifted the little one from her arms and placed him in the cradle. Bunny opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. He led her back to the window, placing her in such away that the sunlight seemed to dance around her. He dropped to one knee. The look on his face froze her. "Marry me."

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One year later:

Amy and Vincenzo and Lita and Netheniel were married right away. Mina gave birth to twins, one boy and one girl. They named them Jarell and Sara. Raye gave birth to a daughter two months later and they named her Rose. Bunny and Darien waited the conventional year of mourning before marrying. They married a week after Daryl's first birthday. They all continued to live on the country estate, though plans were in the works to enlarge the manor.

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Well Minna-san – whaddya think? I finally finished it!!! Gomen for the delay. My sister thought it would be so kind of her to share her virus with me. She's such a sweet kid. First she gave me chicken pox, then strep throat and now this. I ONLY get sick from her grrrr lol Ah well, I hope you find the ending worthy of the time it took to get it up. It is nowhere near the original ending, but muses are fickle friends. Please, feel free to tell me all your thoughts! Doomo arigato gozaimashita for reading! *bows* Until next time!

~Bunniko