e crib beside them, talking,
kissing, and gently touching in the subdued light and near darkness of
the room. They spoke in the way that couples do, who have not yet
taken their troth for granted, understanding with fewer words what the
other meant, but still trying to read the deeper meaning of what was
said, and to reaffirm their own commitment by expressions of special
tenderness and love.

"But tell me the truth," he continued. "That he never touched you I
can believe. It shows in his eyes. But why does a conquering General
in the midst of an war, a widower, take a beautiful young woman from a
detention center? Only to protect her, and to be a governess for his
children? Forgive me, Ara, but no one is that noble."

"Yes. I think deep down he always hoped that I would fall in love with
him, with his children, and become his wife or mistress." Her fingers
gently reassured his throbbing chest. Then, as if embarrassed and
needing to change the subject, she added. "But really, I'm not as
attractive as all that. It is only in your eyes that I'm beautiful."

"Then the rest of the world is blind..... But how could he think to
keep you forever, or that you would abandon your own home, your own
family?" From these words she understood that he had accepted her
faithfulness, and as far as this was possible, dismissed jealousy,
which would only wound them both.

"You have to remember how it must have seemed to them at the time. Our
colonies had been taken, along with the Dutch. And shortly afterward,
Schiller was destroyed. . .and the Coalition thrown into confusion.
The blindness of the conqueror, I suppose. They had known nothing but
victory, didn't seem to realize the men that they had killed, and the
lives they had torn apart---"

"I'm glad I hit him. BASTARDS. I wish they could have seen their
handiwork at Dracus."

She rose on her elbow and looked down at him, trying to understand the
change. He would never have said (or done) such a thing a year ago.
He turned toward her, with the changed eyes and soul of all innocent
young, thrust into war and forced to grow up too quickly. Then all at
once her eyes clouded with pain, as she seemed to realize that she too
had been unaware of the suffering caused by such men. And her own
anguish and grief, that she had had to discipline for so long, for her
unborn child's sake, spilled over. She hid herself against him.

"He was always telling me that the Coa