No Matter What

**"No Matter What"**is the eighteenth episode of *War* and the 67th episode overall.

The episode was published on April 25, 2021.

In the episode, an attack in Bovo rattles the rest of the Granite Bloc. In Canis, the Connelly brothers face their inner turmoils.

## Appendix

Episode Title Card**A:** Map of the War, 723**B:** Bovish Royal Family, 723**C:** Canisian Royal Family, 723**D:** Felexan Royal Family, 723**E:** Leprolian Royal Family, 723**F:** Highland Castle, West Terrier, Canis**G:** Checkerhall, Boso Bovo, Bovo
**E:** The family tree was altered to remove the siblings of Cottontail X and Glaucous Oldman that are irrelevant to the story.

## The Episode

*—Diary of Lana Loudoun—*

*—September 18, 722—*

*Vulpus has annexed the areas of Capricon it has reclaimed, except the capital of Baahaa, which is the new principality. Prince Harald of the Hornover dynasty rules over this micronation, and King Bacon believes this is the first step toward a Vulpus Empire. The Vixen Queen’s announcement came this evening, along with a new map. The annexed territory includes the part still under Canisian control. It appears we get a new map everyday, whether it be from our side or theirs. My eyes often travel to the edges, wondering where they go. Is there really no other place for us?*

—Checkerhall, Boso Bovo, Bovo—

—Kingdom of the Cows—

-January 31, 723-

King Octavio VI was up before everyone else, which was standard for him. He was in the habit of being up before the sun even rose. He made his own breakfast nowadays, after the palace was forced to liquidate much of their staff to send them to the armies.

The breakfast hall of the royal palace was never in need of electricity, as it was surrounded by windows. The King ate by himself nearly everyday. His wife had died of cancer only four years ago. His eldest son and heir, Clarence, was a late riser. He had another son, Humberto, but he lived in his own castle in the north of the country.

Life in the palace was lonely, especially now that Leprolia was days away from falling and an invasion of Bovo was imminent. Octavio was overtly worried for the safety of his people.

A figure appeared in the arch between the breakfast hall and the foyer. It was Clarence, still in his pajamas.

“Son!” Octavio cried in disbelief. “You’re never up this early.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Clarence mumbled. “I’ve been up for hours.”

Octavio patted the chair beside him, and Clarence sat.

“Can I get you some toast? I made eggs too.”

“Sure.”

Clarence Truett was forty-one years old, married, but without children. In a few years, Clarence’s wife would become too old to bear children, and the line of succession would inevitably involve Humberto and his heirs. A decade ago, that would be of the utmost importance to Octavio. Continuing the family line and the dynasty was once the paramount responsibility of a Bovish monarch. Now, it was absolutely meaningless.

When Clarence began eating, he noticed the day’s newspaper in front of Octavio. The headline was anything but abnormal:

“King’s Popularity Abysmal; Cows Demand Conscription Reversal!”

Octavio noticed Clarence’s concerned expression.

“Ah,” Octavio murmured, “nothing new. The army is still upset about the new conscription laws.”

Under the executive orders, which Octavio signed a few weeks ago, cows as young as fifteen were eligible for the draft. Numbers were the only way to guarantee a victory over a Summer Sun invasion.

Unfortunately, the army was not just upset about the conscription changes. The nation’s treasury was empty, and the King’s personal coffers were wholly depleted. He was unable to properly fund his army, and thus many soldiers went hungry. This was not unusual for any nation, but that did not curb the resentment of the people.

Octavio was tired. His fur was beginning to fall out. He took the throne in 681, well over forty years ago. Perhaps it was his time anyway.

“Clarence,” Octavio began, figuring now was as good as any for this conversation, “I thought we should discuss the concept of abdication.”

The Prince dropped his fork and gaped with a shocked expression.

“Father…?”

Octavio outlined his concerns about his ability to lead when his popularity was piss-poor. The King would have to be a beacon of hope and confidence for the army to have the necessary morale to defend the country. Clarence leapt out of his chair to protest, and Octavio stood too. The King began pacing, and soon they found themselves on opposite sides of the table.

“You cannot abdicate. It’s weakness!”

“Clarence, that is not true. I think it would show strength of character and confidence in you as my successor.”

“It’s a cowardly way out. *You* swore to rule this country for the duration of your lifetime.”

“I disagree.”

The two continued to bicker, which was not at all how Octavio imagined this conversation going. He thought Clarence would be open to the idea, as it would enable him to take the throne sooner, with his father as an advisor at his side, and have a longer reign than would probably have occurred without an abdication. Octavio was 73 now, a perfect age for retirement. If only there was not a raging war that prevented him from taking a quiet resignation in the countryside.

Ultimately, Octavio realized, he would not want to push the crown onto his son’s head if he was not ready, or not willing, to take it prematurely.

“Alright,” Octavio surrendered. “I will not abdicate. We won’t have to discuss this again.”

Clarence exhaled. Relief? He walked around the table, and gave his father a hug. It was unusual for the two of them; Octavio was not a touchy individual. Clarence pulled away and smiled.

Octavio heard glass shatter, and then pain ricocheted up his body from his lower back. His knees buckled and he collapsed, hitting his head on one of the dining room chairs on his way down. Clarence cried out and rolled his father onto his side. Octavio gasped for air, but something had struck him. Something…

An assassination!

Octavio felt blood oozing from his body onto the carpet. Glass broke again, and he felt another object impact his body. A bullet?

“HELP!” Clarence yelped. Octavio tried to fall onto his back, but there was something protruding from it.

“Father!” Clarence pleaded. “Father, stay with me. You’ve been hit with two arrows.”

Arrows! How…

A third whizzed overhead, impacting the table. Clarence knocked over a few chairs to blockade Octavio from the broken window.

He began to feel numb, blood continuing to spill out from where the arrows hit him. Breathing became difficult, and he reached out for Clarence.

His were the last eyes the King of Bovo saw.

—Highland Castle, West Terrier, Canis—

—Kingdom of the Dogs—

Bentley and Thumper Connelly were having breakfast together in one of the parlors. Bentley had been so preoccupied with sieges and defenses and trenches and battles that he had neglected several members of his inner circle. Yesterday he had a prolonged dinner with Evangelina, who was days away from being eighteen-years-old. She was only three when this war began. She had even developed opinions about various wartime topics, which Bentley found most interesting to discuss.

Today was Thumper’s turn to eat with the King. The brothers remained close throughout the war. Bentley detected a bit of a rift when he threw Lady Libby out of the castle for her treachery against Victoria Vixen and Canis. He would never be able to forgive his mother for working with the Vixen Queen to assassinate the love of his life. That Thumper was so quick to overlook it was frustrating. The compromise between them was not to discuss their mother.

Bentley opened the morning mail, which by principle did not include news of the war. When dining with a family member, he made it explicit that he only wanted to receive letters, cards, or other personal matters. It usually meant for a small stack.

“Look at this,” Bentley grinned, showing Thumper one of the envelopes. “Another marriage proposition from Lady Orkney.”

“For you?” Thumper asked.

“Nope,” Bentley chuckled. “For you.”

Thumper blushed, and quickly shook his head.

“No, thank you.”

Bentley read over the proposition again, which included several flattering pictures of Lady Orkney. She was a few years younger than Thumper, and still of child-bearing years.

“Are you sure?” Bentley pressed. “She seems enamored with you. She says you write.”

Thumper heaved a sigh.

“I merely write back. I don’t mean to be rude.”

Bentley folded the proposition and stuck it back in the envelope. He eyed his brother curiously. He did not seem at all interested. Bentley understood his own reasons for not remarrying, as it felt like a disservice to Victoria, and he also wished to send a message to all his critics who believed that Victoria was merely a lustful affair. By not remarrying it was apparent that Victoria was truly the love of his life.

But Thumper had never shown interest in anyone other than Esme Stewart, Evangelina’s mother, who passed away more than fifteen years ago. They had never been in love, their marriage an obligatory union to give Evangelina the best family life possible.

“Thumper,” Bentley said gently. “I’m sorry if I sound like Lady Lib…mother…when I ask this, but why have you never taken a second wife? We’ve never really talked about that. I hope you don’t feel like you can’t marry just because of my own prerogatives.”

Thumper was silent, staring at the space between Bentley and the wall. Then, he shrugged.

“I don’t want another wife.”

Well, Bentley thought, some things really are as simple as that.

“Okay,” Bentley chirped. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Bentley resumed eating, sweeping the envelopes to the end of the table. He could sense Thumper was still looking at him. And then, he spoke.

“I’m gay.”

Bentley lifted his head. Thumper immediately dropped his eyes. He was hunched over the plate, and Bentley could see he was shaking. Whatever emotions he was feeling, they were valid. Homosexuality was illegal in every country of Cartonia. For centuries, it had been taboo, though in the current century there was a shift toward passive acceptance that gay people existed. Bentley had only ever met one gay person before—Queen Roxanne’s deceased brother Lorenzo Lazoy.

But it did not matter. Whoever he was, whatever his preferences, whatever his sexuality, he was his brother. No matter what.

And so Bentley smiled.

“I—“

He struggled for words. “I don’t know what to say, and I’m sorry that I can’t say anything wise, but I am just so happy that you told me.”

Thumper’s lip trembled.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he whispered. “I’ve never…” Bentley nodded in support.

“Hey, hey, of course…”

Two quick knocks came at the parlor door, and then it was opened. A page rushed in.

“Your Majesty! I’m so sorry for the intrusion. Horrible news from Bovo…”

Bentley jumped to his paws.

“Not now. Please inform Queen Roxanne and she will act on whatever it is on my behalf. Leave us be, and no more interruptions. That is an order.”

The page blinked in surprise, then bowed and ran from the room.

Since Bentley was already on his feet, he hastened to give his brother an affectionate embrace. The weight that appeared to be crushing Thumper may have lessened just with that.

“Thank you,” Thumper muttered, “for being so accepting.”

Bentley pulled away. He gazed at his brother.

“Absolutely. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“It’s illegal,” Thumper’s voice cracked.

Bentley remembered Thumper’s impassioned speech in the Chamber of the Commons as he fervently advocated for the repeal of the Limitations on Marriage Act, which would enable interspecies marriage.

“*Let love be love, and there be no restrictions.”*

His words were intended to go even beyond interspecies marriage, and allow same-sex relationships. Bentley could not imagine, or even begin to imagine, what Thumper must have gone through all these years, repressing himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bentley asked. Thumper was still shaking.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Bentley did not say anything else. Ultimately, this was Thumper’s time. This was his choice how he wanted to proceed. Bentley dropped to the floor and sat with his back against the window. Thumper remained in his chair. There were a couple of minutes of silence until Thumper was ready to speak again.

“I don’t know why I told you,” he muttered. “I didn’t think I would ever tell anyone.”

“How long have you known?” Bentley asked, and immediately regretted the question. It seemed like a stupid thing to ask. How could anyone pinpoint a time for something like that?

“Um,” Thumper shrugged. “I don’t know. After Esme.”

“She didn’t know?”

“No.”

“Evangelina?”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. She’d…what if she never talks to me again?”

Bentley could not fathom Evangelina would ever do that to the father she loved so dearly, but he did not say this. Regardless of Bentley’s opinion, that was Thumper’s perception and it was veritable.

“I think you did the right thing by telling me,” Bentley stated. “Now you have an ally. You have me, and I’ll help you through whatever it is you’re feeling, or thinking, or experiencing, if you need me. I’ll never know what is going on in your head. I can’t imagine the journey, but you are who you are. You’re my brother. Nothing has changed, and nothing ever will.”

Thumper swallowed hard, and tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.

“I just feel…” Thumper choked, “that I’ve lived a lie…”

Bentley’s heart was breaking to see Thumper like this. He had no idea. It never even crossed his mind. All these years, for nearly four decades, Thumper had wrestled with this identity crisis. And his fear was absolutely justified! The law was punishable by imprisonment.

“Hey,” Bentley broached, “I want you to know that as King I will protect you until my dying breath. Don’t be afraid of the law, if you can manage it. I…do you think we should try to repeal it?”

Thumper did not look at him. He passively shrugged.

“I don’t know. We won’t have the support.”

“Executive order?”

“No, don’t…I don’t want attention being put on the issue. I’m not ready for anyone else to know. I wasn’t sure how you’d react, but I…I don’t know; you’ve inspired me almost. Maybe telling Evangelina wouldn’t be bad.”

Bentley nodded.

“Only if you want to. You owe nothing to anyone. You get to decide who you tell, when you tell them, how you tell them, and where, and why. If they act negatively, then they’re not worth keeping around.”

Bentley shouldn’t have said that last part, especially if that applied to Evangelina. She was old enough to understand what being gay meant.

“Is there anybody? Or has there ever been?”

Thumper vehemently shook his head.

“No. No, I never…”

Bentley changed the subject.

“So, did you know that Jacquetta Lazoy’s son was gay?”

Thumper flicked his eyes at Bentley, then looked away again.

“No, I didn’t know that.”

Bentley needed to shut up. He so desperately wanted to assure Thumper that everything was going to be okay, that he just kept spewing the first few things that came to mind. He should not have brought up Lorenzo Lazoy, the eldest son of Jacquetta Lazoy and King Siam I. Lorenzo had a serious relationship with another male cat, and his parents’ fervent condemnation of the two had caused Lorenzo to die by suicide. Bentley knew that Jacquetta regretted that decision above all else and had actually campaigned for the Limitations of Marriage Act Repeal to include the framework for allowing same-sex relationships.

“If you’re worried about telling Evangelina,” Bentley said carefully, “you should know that Jacquetta would not judge, nor be against you. She could be an ally as well.”

He told him about her efforts to change the Repeal. Thumper nodded.

“Okay. Thanks.”

Bentley sighed.

“I’m sorry if I said anything I shouldn’t. I’ll stop talking. If you ever want to talk about this, my door is always open. You are the most important person in the world to me, Thumper. I want you to be happy, and I want you to love yourself as much as I love you.”

Now, Thumper broke down, and Bentley crawled over to hug him again. Thumper slid out of his chair, and the two brothers held each other. Bentley inwardly vowed never to let him go.

—

“Where’s Bentley?” Queen Roxanne II asked as she took the telegram from the page. The Lazoy royal family had just concluded breakfast in their quarters, the same ones that Queen Libby had once occupied before being forcefully ejected from the castle. Princess Zamora had just left to go for her daily walk around the courtyard with her keepers.

“In the green parlor with the Crown Prince. He requested not to be disturbed.”

Roxanne lifted an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you say there was an incident in Bovo?”

“Yes,” the page said simply. Roxanne dismissed him. Madonna Jacquetta placed her bookmark inside her journal and went to read the telegram with Roxanne. Lionel Lazoy was plucking out his white hairs in the mirror.

“Read aloud,” he requested, his back to them. Roxanne broke the telegram’s seal.

“Nations of the Granite Bloc,” she read, “King Octavio VI…has been assassinated in Checkerhall!”

Jacquetta gasped. Lionel turned from the mirror, openmouthed. Roxanne continued, “The King was struck by two arrows, both fired from a clocktower on the palace grounds. The first pierced his lower back, which caused mild paralysis. The second punctured his aorta. He died on the spot in the presence of…*King* Clarence…”

“How awful!” Jacquetta whimpered, her paws over her mouth.

“There have been no arrests yet,” Roxanne stammered. “Responsibility for the assassination is being claimed by an anti-royalist group in Bovo known as No Crown Now. King Clarence is safe, and under protection. Rest in peace, King Octavio VI.”

Roxanne dropped the telegram on the coffee table and pressed her paw to her forehead.

“Anti-royalist group…” Lionel pondered. “Not even the Summer Sun.”

Jacquetta shook her head.

“When we turn on each other, then we have truly lost. A kingdom divided in itself cannot stand.”

Lionel was rubbing his head in deep thought.

“There’s nothing we can do,” he moaned. “This is an issue specific to Bovo. Clarence will have to restore unity if we can hope to rely on Bovo as an ally. If their country really falls apart…they won’t be strong enough to stop the invasion. The foxes and deer are weeks away from conquering Leprolia! Days, even!”

“Days,” Roxanne agreed.

Jacquetta whimpered again.

“Poor Octavio…he was such a good man. Well, I’m going to observe a few minutes of silence for him. Roxanne, please let me know when you talk to Bentley about it. I’d like to be there.”

—February 2, 723—

-2 Days Later-

After dinner, Bentley went to his room to get changed. All day for the past two days, all anyone was talking about was King Octavio’s assassination in Bovo, and yet Bentley could not think about anything except Thumper. He was astounded by his brother’s bravery, and his sudden decision to come out as gay. Since that breakfast, Thumper had not said anything else about it. Whenever Bentley saw his brother, Thumper would act completely normal. Bentley wasn’t sure he would be able to do that if the roles were reversed.

Then again, how would he know?

Bentley opened the door to his bedroom, and there was Victoria. Sitting on his bed. She was smoothing her white dress.

“Hi,” she said simply. Bentley slammed the door. He didn’t know why; he forgot that no one else could see her.

“Hey.”

She floated off the bed and glided toward Bentley.

“You’re troubled. What’s bothering you?”

Bentley did not mention Thumper. He promised he would not tell anyone, even the dead.

“King Octavio has been assassinated.”

Victoria’s eyebrows went up.

“Are you experiencing flashbacks?”

Truthfully, Bentley had not. And that surprised him. He still had nightmares of Victoria’s head exploding on live television. Maybe he was unaffected today because Octavio had died by bow and arrow and not gun?

“No, but it’s still upsetting. He was an ally, and a friend.”

“Hmm,” Victoria said doubtfully, regarding Bentley with her piercing gaze. “You’re sure it’s not Thumper you’re worried about?”

Bentley cocked his head at her.

“How did you know?”

Victoria tapped her head and chuckled.

“I know what you know, my love.”

Bentley wanted to hold her paws, to kiss and caress her, but that was always impossible. She was nothing but a phantom, a visage unattainable.

“What should I do, Victoria?”

Her paws moved toward where Bentley’s were, as if to simulate holding hands.

“I think we should discuss this at another time.”

“Why?” Bentley asked, his eyes closed to better imagine her really being here. “I want to talk to you now, Victoria.”

“Because,” Victoria giggled, “your valet is in the room.”

Bentley’s eyes burst open. Victoria was gone, but Hamish McRory was standing by the door, his paw still on the knob. His mouth was open, and he was staring at Bentley with wide eyes. Neither said anything for a while, both their gazes locked in focus.

“Majesty!” Hamish sputtered. “I’m so sorry. I’ll go. Please forgive me. I was just coming to…well, it doesn’t matter. Goodbye.”

Hamish nearly dropped what he was holding—it looked like one of Bentley’s suits—and struggled to close the door behind him. Bentley crossed the room and caught the door before it shut. Hamish actually gulped.

“Did you see her?” Bentley asked stupidly. Hamish met Bentley’s eyes for a moment.

“No, sir. I didn’t see anybody.”

Bentley paused. He opened the door all the way and took the suit out of Hamish’s arms.

“I’d like for you to come in for a while.”

Hamish nodded and folded his arms in front of him. He followed the King inside the room. Bentley could say with confidence that Hamish was the best valet he’d ever had, and in the three years of service had proven himself an illustrious member of the Highland Castle staff. He was only twenty years of age, and yet highly skilled in his trade.

Bentley did not talk about Victoria, not to anyone. If she came up in conversation, he would deftly steer her name away. Thumper’s bravery the other day had inspired Bentley, and he realized that just as Thumper had suppressed his sexuality, Bentley had suppressed his trauma from losing Victoria. He didn’t feel it would be right to unload onto Thumper as he struggled with his own issues, and Hamish was here already. He had caught Bentley unhealthily dealing with Victoria’s passing by imagining her ghost, which he did too often.

“Sit.”

Bentley pointed at one of the couches near the fireplace. Hamish obeyed. Bentley stood by the mantle. Few people knew that there was actually a secret passage behind the mirror, only accessible from this side. Bentley only learned of it when he ascended to the throne and Maximilian Walters told him. Apparently King Ewan never used it.

“Majesty,” Hamish beseeched, “I really am sorry for walking in unannounced. I did not know you were in here. There was no light under the door, and Mr. Clackmannan said I had to get this suit to you before dessert and…”

“Hamish,” Bentley interrupted, “I’m not going to scold you. I was hoping to talk to you.”

The valet’s eyes widened.

“About…?”

“Victoria.”

Hamish frowned and averted his gaze.

“Majesty, I would never want to force you to relive such painful memories…”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Bentley said. “They shouldn’t all be painful. I was so fortunate to have her, and we had a whole year of bliss. How is it that I’ve so easily replaced that happiness with bitterness and anger? Anger at the Vixen Queen, at my mother, at all those people who castigated us and accused us of…immorality. It’s tormented me.”

Hamish nodded. He still appeared extremely uncomfortable.

“Majesty, am I the right person to share this with? I’m just your valet. I…don’t want to say anything out of turn.”

Bentley sat across from Hamish and tried to get as comfortable as he could so that Hamish wouldn’t be so tight.

“Don’t be afraid of saying anything that would or might offend me. I’ve never spoken to anyone, properly, about Victoria. Over the years I’ve come to regard you as a friend. We’ve had many conversations about a myriad of topics in front of my mirror. I trust you. And I’m curious what your thoughts are.”

Hamish eased.

“Thoughts on what?”

“Victoria. I’ve always said that I would never remarry because no one could ever replace her. But people get remarried all the time. Do you think I’m being stubborn? Am I precluding myself from another bout of happiness?”

Hamish turned around to look at the spot where Victoria was standing before he walked in. Bentley knew he couldn’t see her, but he did think it was strange how he was looking at the exact spot.

“I think it’s noble, sir.”

He turned back to Bentley. “She was the love of your life, they say. And I think that’s apparent to all of us. She’s the martyr who dug a thousand trenches. She’s the woman whose death became the catalyst for war. She’s bigger than all of us, and her legacy is stronger than any of ours will ever be. I think you, and others too, have idolized her. And you cannot, when you’ve put someone on such a pedestal, rationally love another in the same way.”

Bentley’s heart skipped a beat. Hamish’s words made a lot of sense. He was wise beyond his years.

“That’s true,” Bentley simply replied, his voice soft. Hamish leaned forward.

“Your Majesty, if I may, do you see her?”

“What? Now?”

“No, I mean, in general. Mr. Clackmannan told me when I got hired that you often stare off into space, and that he believes you might see Victoria there. I thought that was an odd thing to say, but I’ve noticed it myself. Including tonight. You were talking to her, weren’t you?”

Bentley hesitated. He never admitted it to anyone, not even Thumper.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I see her. She’s with me almost always. She…lives in my head. That’s the only place she can really be alive as I knew her. Mr. Clackmannan is most observant, as are you. Um…but I’d really appreciate it if what we’ve said tonight stays between us.”

Hamish lifted a hand resolutely.

“You have my word, your Majesty.”

Bentley began laughing.

“You probably think I’m crazy. I guess I should apologize that you have to see your King so vulnerable. The truth is there aren’t many people I can tell this to. I know you can’t really understand, but I’m very grateful for your insight.”

Hamish squirmed on the couch.

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Majesty. I think you’re the greatest dog I’ve ever met. I’m glad you told me all this. I’ve never had the chance to say it to you, but I’m sorry for what happened to Victoria.”

Bentley tipped his head.

“Thank you.”

“Have you ever done anything to commemorate her? The only pictures I’ve seen are the ones in your room. Here. Other than that…it’s like she never existed.”

Bentley hesitated again. In his head, he saw her memorial down by the lake. Only Thumper had gone down there with him.

“Uh, yes,” he admitted. “I built a…sort of shrine to her on the banks of the lake near the castle. It’s…uh…private.”

Hamish nodded.

“I think that’s good of you. Somebody has to preserve her memory.”

Bentley bit his lip.

“Would you like to see it?”

—Northern Leprolia—

—Kingdom of the Rabbits—

Sterling Oldman, now King Cottontail X, openly wept as he signed the instrument of surrender. He was less than a kilometer from the Bovish border. The deer and foxes cut the convoy off, and demanded unconditional surrender from the King. Further, the Vixen Queen commanded that he abdicate his throne and denounce his successors, else they would be executed in the same way as the Willonian royal family. Doing so would enable the family to escape.

Sterling had to protect his family now. That was more important than his crown. He was mostly sad that Leprolia had truly fallen. The Summer Sun controlled over 98% of the country. By the day’s end, there’d be no more Leprolia.

They’d go to Canis, and join Azure Oldman. At least they could be together as the rest of the world collapsed around them.

—Lake Hund, West Terrier, Canis—

Hamish got out of the car. The sun was setting over the lake, the sky a magnificent magenta. Bentley was already walking toward the forests bordering the beach. Hamish hurried to keep up with the King. They walked for a few minutes through the brambles, though Hamish could see that a path had been worn over the years underfoot. Soon, they came upon a stunning sight.

Bentley had built a cairn for Victoria. A massive one, too. It was a pyramid of stones, arranged neatly and jutting toward the treetops. It was taller than both Bentley and Hamish. Framed photographs of Victoria and Bentley, and Victoria alone were at the base. Flowers wreathed the ground. Bentley stopped short of these flowers, and Hamish kept his distance so as to not disturb the site. This was more than a memorial; it was a private sanctuary for the King. Hamish was honored just to be here.

“This is it,” Bentley exclaimed. He gestured with his arms, then let them fall flat against his sides.

“It’s spectacular,” Hamish commented. “This must have taken a while.”

“It did,” Bentley muttered. “But there wasn’t any rush. I just wanted it to be perfect.”

Hamish smiled at the King.

“I think she’d love it.”

Bentley seemed to be getting emotional, and Hamish avoided saying anything else for fear of upsetting him further. Instead, he knelt before the pictures of her and said a silent prayer, his eyes squeezed shut.

Hamish was born and raised in the north, in the service of a great Lady. Northerners often believed in a higher power, in a force that bonded the world together. Hamish felt as if he could close his eyes and reach into the ether, and wish Victoria’s soul eternal rest.

“What are you doing?” Bentley asked.

Hamish opened his eyes and glanced at the King.

“I’m saying a prayer for Victoria.”

Bentley swallowed.

“Could you…” his voice cracked, “say it aloud?”

Hamish nodded. He stood and looked for a rock that was not part of the cairn.

“In the north,” he explained, “we build cairns too. I’d like to add a stone to add my respects. I’ll just set it at the base, if that’s alright. And then say the prayer.”

Bentley nodded. Hamish found a grey stone and clasped it in his hands. He got back on his knees and stared at the picture of Victoria.

“Bless thee, Victoria Vixen, in life as in death. You are immortal in memory and spirit, and we remember you. We cherish you, and we preserve you. We ask for strength in your absence, and for peace of soul and body. We bless you. *Tha sinn gad ionndrainn*.”

Bentley stared.

“What was that last part?”

“Oh,” Hamish blushed. “It’s ancient Canisian. Dead language…it means ‘we miss you.’”

Bentley smiled absently.

“You know ancient Canisian?”

“Just a little,” Hamish replied. “Enough only for prayers. My parents were very spiritual people.”

Bentley took a shaky breath.

“Do you know any others?”

Hamish turned back to the cairn. He clasped his hands and bowed his head.

“May those who love us, love us. May that love be unconditional and pure. May everyone experience this love and all its light. If there are those who do not love us, may their hearts be turned. If their hearts cannot be turned, then turn their eyes red, so that we may know them by their stare.”

“That sounds more like a curse than a blessing,” Bentley muttered. Hamish stood, dusting off his pants.

“If there was only love in the world, then there’d be no need for the second verse. I believe we all have a choice to make everyday, whether or not we’re going to love those around us. Everyone we see. In 707, when your relationship was made public, this country made the conscious decision to close its heart to you and Victoria. That was wrong, and I’m sorry it happened.”

When he said “sorry,” he looked at the cairn. At Victoria. Bentley then bowled him over, wrapping his arms around him. Hamish could swear he could hear the King crying, but blocked out the sound.

For fifteen years, the King had bottled up his feelings about Victoria, and kept them to himself, locked away in that bottle. And today, not only was the bottle open, but it had been shattered.

—

Thumper Connelly steeled himself to gather all of the courage that he could as he climbed the stairs toward the Felexan royal apartments. Roxanne and Zamora were playing a game with some of the palace staff, and Lionel was in the library. That would mean Jacquetta Lazoy would be alone in her rooms.

Bentley was right; he would like a second ally before he told Evangelina. Bentley did not understand all the consequences that came with being gay, but Jacquetta did. She was the mother of a gay son, one who died by suicide directly because of condemnations of his sexual orientation. Bentley probably mentioned Lorenzo Lazoy because he was scared that Thumper would also take his own life. That was not going to happen, but Thumper understood the concern.

The door to Mother’s former chambers was open. During Bentley’s final confrontation with Lady Libby Galloway, Thumper had to break the door open with a baseball bat. It had since been replaced.

Jacquetta Lazoy was reading by the window, a lamp illuminating the cover of a journal. Thumper cleared his throat and knocked.

—

Jacquetta was caught off guard by the knock, and she jumped. She closed her journal—she was reading over former entries—and saw Thumper Connelly in the archway. He appeared more timid than usual.

“Come in,” she beckoned, and he entered. He shut the door behind him, which Jacquetta thought was strange.

“Is anyone else here?” he asked. Jacquetta lifted her eyebrows.

“Uh…no. Just me.”

Thumper nodded. He was tugging at his hands. Jacquetta swung her legs off the couch and stared at him.

“What is it, dear?”

His breathing got heavier. A hundred scenarios began whizzing through Jacquetta’s head. Was it Roxanne? Zamora? Lionel? The King? The war?

“I’m gay.”

Jacquetta gasped. She did it on impulse, purely because it was unexpected. But she recomposed herself instantly and ran over to him.

“You are?” she whispered with a huge smile. “Oh, my dear! Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy to hear that. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” Thumper muttered. “Better? I don’t know. Scared.”

“I know,” Jacquetta replied. “Trust me, I know. It has been so long since I’ve heard those words but believe me I have spent years wishing I could redo my response.”

She pressed her paw against his face. In him, she could see Lorenzo. “I love you, Thumper. You are beautiful in every way. I’m not just saying that. That is the truth. I don’t care what any law or social stigma stipulates. You are you, and that is perfect.”

Thumper just nodded.

“I told Bentley two days ago. You’re the only other person who knows.”

Jacquetta threw her hand over her heart.

“I’m honored you would trust me with this. My son, Lorenzo, was gay too. He told me and my husband together over dinner, and I was horrified. I…well, sorry, I can’t really talk about that time. It was the darkest, worst place I’ve ever been. And I put myself there. Oh gosh, here I am talking about myself when this is your time. Are you going to tell anyone else?”

“Evangelina,” Thumper stated. “I owe it to her.”

Jacquetta pursed her lips.

“I understand that, but you don’t *owe* anybody anything. If you don’t want to tell her, or you’re not ready, you don’t have to. This is entirely up to you.”

Thumper smiled at her.

“Thank you, Jacquetta. You’ve really made me feel a lot better.”

“I hope so. The last thing I’d want is to make you feel worse.”

She caressed Thumper’s face again, as if doing so would bring Lorenzo back. Undo her own sins. She had told Queen Libby that she would spend the rest of her life repenting for the crime of casting out her own son when his version of love conflicted with hers.

Jacquetta was grateful that Libby was not alive to see her son come out as gay; if her disapproval toward Bentley’s love was any indication, she would not have been accepting. And then Jacquetta would fear history would repeat itself and Thumper would…

“If you need anything from me, Thumper,” Jacquetta emphasized, “do not hesitate to ask. I stand beside you, unconditionally.”

He left after another hug, off to find Evangelina. Jacquetta exhaled and sat on the edge of the couch. Thumper would assuredly find a third ally in Evangelina, and all the acceptance due to him. That could not be said for others in the country. Gay people were hidden away, acknowledged in existence but condemned in public. The widely-held stance nowadays was that you can be gay, so long as you kept yourself hidden. Jacquetta wanted very much for that to change, but didn’t know if it was possible.

—

Lionel Lazoy was with Maximilian Walters and Minerva Taylor in their most frequented spot: the library. The death of King Octavio VI hit Lionel hard; it became apparent that no one was safe, even royals in their own palaces. Octavio was eliminated by his own citizens, cows discontent with his rule. He did not deserve to die, and it was a real tragedy that he did.

Lionel was staring at the map of Cartonia. Not the war map, not the fluctuating conquering diagrams. The physical terrain map of the continent. It was cut off at the bottom, where the Expanse began.

“There’s gotta be something,” he mumbled. Minerva and Max glanced at him.

“What?” Minerva piped up. “Did you say something?”

Lionel whacked his paw against the map.

“There’s no way that the Expanse is uninhabited. I know it’s desolate, but we only know that as far as we can see from the Vixen Cliffs.”

“Not true,” Max retorted. “Expeditions were sent out centuries ago. A lot of them didn’t come back. Those that did said there were inhospitable mountains that were insurmountable to climb.”

“All bad,” Minerva yawned.

Lionel was convinced the best way to preserve the monarchies of Cartonia—the Granite Bloc specifically—was to escape over the Vixen Cliffs and head south. He only shared this with his family and Minerva and Max, but all rejected the idea. They were adamant there was nothing south. There was a reason why no other settlement outside of Cartonia had been established in nearly 1000 years: it was impossible.

“There’s *something*,” he assured himself. “I know there is…”

“It’s idle speculation,” Minerva rebuked. “You’re looking for a way out. I get that. None of us want to stay in this war. But our resources are better spent focusing on this conglomeration of warring states, not a fantasy one beyond our borders.”

Lionel shook his head dramatically.

“You want a way out? This is it. The Expanse. I’m serious.”

He pointed at the space beneath the bottom of the map. “That’s the key to an escape. This is the way out of Cartonia.”

## Production

### Continuity and Story Arcs

King Octavio VI was assassinated in Bovo by an anti-royalist group opposing Bovish leadership in the war. He was succeeded by his son, Clarence Truett, as King.

Thumper Connelly came out as gay, the first such story arc in Storytime.

The secret passage behind the mirror in Bentley Connelly’s bedchamber was previously shown in a flashback scene in the season 3 episode “Into the Fire.”

Sterling Oldman, as King Cottontail X, officially surrendered Leprolia to the Summer Sun in exchange for his family’s escape to Canis.

Lionel Lazoy, Maximilian Walters, and Minerva Taylor revisited the concept of escaping Cartonia through the southern Expanse, previously discussed in “Two Moths Drawn to the Flame.”

### References

Victoria Vixen being the “martyr who dug a thousand trenches” is a reference to the common saying of Helen of Troy: “the face that launched a thousand ships.”

Jacquetta Lazoy said "a Kingdom divided in itself cannot stand," which is a quote by Thomas Hobbes.

## Trivia

* The title of this episode comes from a Calum Scott song of the same name. It specifically centers around the coming out experience.
	+ The line was not quoted but rather made as an inward vow by Bentley Connelly upon learning that his brother Thumper Connelly was gay.
	+ The episode was originally to be titled "Uneasy Lies the Head That Wears a Crown," but it was changed when the theme of the episode was altered.
		- The planned theme was going to be focused on Bovo and the Octavio VI assassination, but Thumper's storyline ended up taking the central focus.
* This episode was written in a single day (July 20, 2020).
	+ The only other episode this season to accomplish this feat was "Two Moths Drawn to the Flame."
* Victoria Vixen’s memorial is based on the Balmoral Cairns in Scotland, especially the large pyramid-shaped cairn erected in honor of Prince Albert, husband of Queen Victoria.
* "*Tha sinn gad ionndrainn*” is Scots Gaelic for “we miss you.”
* This is the first Storytime episode to depict a coming out, introduce an openly gay character, and use the word “gay.”