Chapter 44 - Daryl

The Kingdom was nice.

I guess.

We had two small rooms to ourselves—one for me and Ella, the other for the kids. It wasn't fancy, but it was clean. Safe. The walls didn't shake with gunfire. The roof didn't leak. The floor didn't creak under the weight of dread. We had three meals a day, warm water, beds with real mattresses.

They even had a teacher who welcomed Ian into her class like he belonged there. She said he asked too many questions, but she didn't seem to mind answering them.

Everyone was nice.

Too damn nice.

I didn't trust it—not fully. But sitting here, in the warm grass beside the garden, with the sun spilling like honey across Ella's skin and Ruby's laughter floating through the air like music—I couldn't bring myself to hate it.

Ella sat cross-legged beside me, the folds of her skirt billowing over her knees, with Ruby perched happily in her lap. Our girl was chubby-cheeked and pink from the sun, clapping her drooly hands together as Ella narrated the world to her like it was a fairytale written just for them.

Warmth bloomed low in my chest, spreading slowly like a rising tide.

"What about these toes?" Ella cooed, grabbing one of Ruby's sock-covered feet and lifting it toward her mouth. "Oh, I could just eat them up! But whew, they're stinky! Yes, your little toes are so stinky, Miss Ruby. How'd they get so stinky? You can't even walk yet!"

Ruby squealed in delight, her tiny fists flailing in the air like she was trying to fly. Slobber dripped freely down her chin, soaking the collar of her shirt.

"Oh, I agree," Ella gasped, eyes wide in mock surprise. "Maybe just one little bite won't hurt..."

She leaned in dramatically, her mouth open wide as she made exaggerated chomping sounds. "Om nom nom nom!"

Ruby burst into a fit of bubbly giggles, flopping backward against Ella's legs and kicking her feet like she just heard the funniest joke in the world. Her laughter was breathless and pure, the kind of sound that cracked you open and made you feel like maybe everything wasn't all broken after all.

I couldn't help but smile, watching them.

"Daryl!" Ella gasped suddenly, lifting Ruby slightly as she peered into her mouth. "I think she's got a tooth poking through! Come look!"

I shifted closer on instinct, bracing a hand behind her for balance as I leaned in. Ruby blinked up at me, her mouth still open in a gummy grin.

"Lemme see, baby girl," I murmured, brushing my thumb gently along her soft cheek. I cradled her tiny chin, easing her lower lip down just enough to peek inside.

And sure enough—two little white buds had broken through her bottom gums.

"Well I'll be..." I huffed a breath, grinning despite myself. "Look at that. Not one, but two."

Ella beamed. "She's gonna start biting us any day now."

I chuckled, leaning down to kiss the top of Ruby's head. "I thought we had a deal, sweetheart," I said softly, my voice dropping. "You don't get any bigger 'til you're forty. You're breakin' the rules, baby girl."

Ruby responded with another loud gurgle, spit dribbling down her chin. I caught it with my thumb and wiped it away, then kissed the corner of her mouth.

"Traitor," I whispered teasingly. "Growin' up behind my back."

Ella watched me with something soft in her eyes—like she couldn't quite believe I was real. Like she was memorizing every second.

"You're such a sucker for her," she said with a quiet smile.

"Yeah," I rasped, my throat suddenly tight. "I am."

Because how could I not be?

"Good morrow, dear friends!"

The voice floated toward us, bright and booming like a bell rung at dawn. My eyes rolled before I could stop them, and I didn't even bother to hide it. Only one man in the damn apocalypse would talk like that on purpose.

Ezekiel strode toward us with all the pomp of a king in a stage play, staff in hand, robes fluttering behind him like he had a fan crew just out of sight. That same guy—Jerry—ambled behind him with a big dumb grin on his face, like always.

I didn't rise. Not right away. I just glanced up from where I sat with Ella and Ruby in the grass. The sun was still casting long shadows from the garden walls, warm and soft in the early light.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," Ella said brightly, elbowing me in the ribs to behave. I grunted and stood, brushing my hands off on my jeans. She took my hand without a second thought, and I pulled her gently to her feet.

"We're settling in," she added, smiling up at the King. "How are you? And Shiva?"

Ezekiel inclined his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling with warmth. "Ah, the great lady Shiva remains as formidable and elegant as ever. Her appetite, I fear, rivals even Jerry's. And as for myself—I fare well, indeed. The day is fair, the people are fed, and the gardens flourish under this golden sun. I could not ask for more."

His eyes dropped to Ruby, who had quieted at the new voice. She blinked up at him with sleepy curiosity, one tiny fist wrapped around Ella's braid.

"And what of my young comrade?" he asked, directing the question to both of us but smiling at Ella. "Where is the brave lad who calls me King without irony?"

"He's with your teacher," she said, brushing a hand over Ruby's curls. "He was very excited about school this morning. Woke up talking about how he was gonna read every book."

Ezekiel laughed—a deep, pleasant sound that echoed lightly across the courtyard.

"Well spoken! A noble ambition indeed." He looked thoughtful. "I trust he will find his hunger for knowledge matched by our humble resources."

"Thank you again," Ella said, her voice dipping just slightly. "For letting us be here. For letting him learn. I tried teaching him myself, but..."

Her words trailed off, and her smile faltered.

I slid my arm around her waist, tugging her into my side. Her sadness came soft and quiet, but I could feel it all the same. She never talked about it much, not even to me—not about the other moms in Alexandria, how they whispered after Paul, how they closed ranks when she didn't. She'd tried to keep Ian in their school, tried to push past it, but she'd felt it—how they judged her, like grief was contagious.

"Fear not," Ezekiel said, his voice gentle now. He took a step closer, lowering his staff slightly as if to signal a shift in tone. "Even the greatest kingdoms know sorrow. Even the strongest of leaders have stumbled in the dark before rising again. In this place, knowledge is not a prize to be earned—it is a gift we share. Your son is bright. Quick of mind. Fierce of spirit."

Ella blinked hard, her smile returning but softer this time.

"He gets it from his mama," I muttered, giving her hip a squeeze. "She's the smart one."

"Indeed," Ezekiel said with a grin. "Your lady wife is clearly a woman of keen wit and fiercer heart."

"Don't give her a big head," I said, shooting him a warning look even as Ella snorted beside me.

He merely chuckled and rested both hands atop his staff.

"I shall take my leave," he said, bowing his head just enough to be polite. "The day is young, and my duties many. But I am glad to have seen you in good spirits, and your little one so full of joy. May peace and provision walk beside you always."

With a final smile and a dramatic swish of his cloak, he turned and strolled away, Jerry following with an awkward wave and a mumbled "Later."

Once they were out of earshot, I leaned in and grumbled in Ella's ear, "Swear to God, I keep expectin' that man to ask us to a joustin' match."

Ella giggled, bumping her hip into mine. "I like him. He's sweet."

I shook my head but didn't argue.

I still didn't trust anyone fully—not yet. But in that moment, with Ruby's weight resting against Ella's shoulder and the morning warm and slow around us... I could admit, for the first time in a long time, it felt like we had a chance to breathe.

Just a little.

The garden was quiet again after Ezekiel left, save for the occasional chirp of a bird overhead and the rustling of leaves in the warm breeze. Ruby nestled sleepily against Ella's chest, her little fists clutching the fabric of her mama's shirt, her breaths coming soft and steady.

I sat back down in the grass, my elbows resting on my knees. Ella joined me a moment later, settling Ruby comfortably in her arms, absently swaying as she looked out over the crops.

"We need a plan," she murmured after a long stretch of silence. "He likes us, sure—but liking someone and going to war for them? Not the same thing."

I grunted. "Ain't wrong."

Ella looked down at Ruby's face, brushing a kiss to her temple. "They're comfortable here. Safe. Ezekiel doesn't want to risk that. He's built something good and he's scared of losing it."

"He will lose it," I said, jaw tight. "The Saviors don't stop. Sooner or later, they'll want more. Food. Weapons. People. Don't matter how polite Ezekiel is—they'll push."

Ella sighed. "Yeah, and by the time he sees that, it might be too late."

Ruby stirred slightly, rubbing her face against her mama's chest and letting out a tiny, breathy whine. Ella hushed her gently, rocking her in slow little movements, her eyes never leaving mine.

"We need to make him see that now, not later," she said. "Before he makes the same mistake Rick did. Before someone here gets Lucille'd."

I looked at her, frowning. "You wanna tell him that? 'Hey, I watched a man beat our friend's skull in with a bat, and you're next if you don't act?' Think that'll win him over?"

"I mean, it is the truth," she shot back. "But no. Not like that. I know how to talk to men like him."

I raised an eyebrow. "Men like what? Fancy? Full of shit?"

Ella grinned. "Exactly. He likes stories. Metaphors. He wants things to mean something. So I'll give him meaning. I'll paint him a damn picture."

Ruby let out a soft, snorty sound and I couldn't help but smile. Ella tucked a finger under Ruby's chin, wiping away a bit of drool with the edge of her sleeve.

"Look at her," she whispered. "She's got no idea what kind of world she's growing up in. No idea what she'll have to face. If we don't do something, if we don't get ahead of this..."

Her voice cracked. She blinked it away, strong like always, but I saw it—just for a second—that edge of fear underneath all the fire.

"She ain't gonna grow up like that," I said. My voice was low, firm. "Neither of 'em will. I'll kill every damn Savior between here and the coast if I have to."

"I know you would." Ella turned to me fully. "But this isn't just about killing. It's about uniting. And that means convincing Ezekiel to step up. Which, unfortunately, means we gotta be a little more delicate than your usual brand of diplomacy."

"Delicate," I muttered. "Ain't in my vocabulary."

Ella smirked. "Good thing you've got me, huh?"

Ruby made a soft cooing noise, blinking up at her mama before wriggling in her arms, one hand grabbing at Ella's mouth. Ella laughed and kissed her tiny palm.

"I'll do the talking," she said. "But I need you there. Right by my side. You give it weight. You've got presence."

I snorted. "I've got bad posture and a resting murder face."

"Exactly." She winked. "It works for you."

I rubbed a hand over my beard, thinking. "You sure you're up for this? He ain't dumb, Ella. You show too much fire, he'll think you're reckless. Show too little, he won't take you serious."

"I know." She leaned her head against my shoulder. "I'll walk the line. I'll make it personal. I'll tell him what we've lost. What we're fighting for. I'll talk about Maggie. About Glenn. About the baby. I'll talk about us. About the life we're trying to build."

I wrapped my arm around her and Ruby both, holding them close.

"We tell him the truth," I said. "That there's no safety with the Saviors. That his kingdom only stands 'cause Negan ain't looked twice at it yet. That once he does, it's over unless we stand together."

Ella nodded. "We'll do it tonight. After dinner. That's when he takes walks through the courtyard. You know, being all noble and dramatic."

I chuckled. "Ain't wrong."

She tilted her head to look up at me, something warm in her gaze. "You think it'll work?"

"I think," I said, pressing a kiss to her temple, "if anyone can get through to him, it's you."

Ruby hiccupped. Then farted.

Loudly.

We both froze, then broke into quiet laughter as she blinked up at us, utterly unbothered.

"Damn," I muttered, fanning the air. "What do we even feed you?"

Ella gagged playfully. "Death. Apparently."

I kissed Ruby's drool-covered cheek, then Ella's. "Alright," I said, getting to my feet. "Let's go clean up the tiny demon and get ready. Tonight, we change a kingdom's future."

"Right after you change that diaper," Ella grinned, holding Ruby out like a gift.

"Hell no."

"Hell yes."

"Shit," I muttered.

"She already did," Ella sing-songed.

And just like that, with a strategy in our heads and baby poop in my future, we headed back toward our rooms. Together. Ready for whatever came next.

~

The sun was dipping low by the time we left the garden. I held Ian's hand as we walked toward the barracks where Morgan stayed. He was out front sweeping the same damn spot for the third time that day.

Ella crouched down beside Ian, brushing her fingers through his curls and murmuring something low. He nodded solemnly, then looked up at me.

"You comin' back?"

I knelt beside him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Always, little man. Just gotta go talk to the king for a bit."

He nodded again and turned to Morgan, who gave Ella and me a look I couldn't quite read—somewhere between worry and knowing. He'd tried to talk us outta this earlier, said Ezekiel wasn't ready. But that didn't matter. We had to try.

Ruby was strapped to Ella's chest in one of those slings that made her look like a mama kangaroo. She was dozing, cheek pressed against Ella's chest, her fist tangled in her mama's shirt.

We walked the rest of the way to the courtyard in silence. Ezekiel was exactly where Ella said he'd be—beneath the pergola wrapped in blooming ivy, strolling with a sort of theatrical grace. Jerry stood a few paces behind, ever faithful, ever awkward.

The King turned toward us as we approached, hands clasped in front of him, that damn smile already forming.

"Lady Ella. Lord Daryl," he said, inclining his head. "A fine evening to you both."

Ella gave a small bow at the waist, and I watched the glint in her eyes. She knew how to play this. She didn't have to fake the respect, not exactly—but she knew the game. And damn, was she good at it.

"Your Majesty," she greeted, her voice warm, reverent. "May we speak with you?"

"Always," he said, gesturing for us to walk beside him. "To what do I owe the honor of your company on this twilight eve?"

Ella smiled, shifting Ruby slightly. "We come with heavy hearts and hopeful hands, Your Majesty. There's a storm coming, and we hope to weather it with you. Not against you. Not apart."

I kept to the side, silent, scanning the perimeter more out of habit than worry. But my eyes kept drifting back to her—my girl, holding that baby, speaking like some damn envoy, but still every inch herself. Fierce. Bold. Unrelenting.

"I assume you speak of the Saviors," Ezekiel said, voice softening. "Their shadow stretches far, and I do not doubt the weight of your words. But the Kingdom is at peace. It is a fragile, precious thing. One I do not gamble lightly."

Ella nodded. "And I respect that, truly. But peace with the Saviors is like peace with a snake. It only lasts until they decide they're hungry again."

Ezekiel was quiet for a moment, then turned his gaze to her. "Lady Ella... you have seen much."

"I've lost much," she corrected. "We both have. Friends. Family. Safety."

Ella took a step forward. "Negan propositioned me."

The words hit like a dropped blade.

Ezekiel blinked.

"He told me I could be one of his wives," she said, voice sharp now, bitter at the edges. "He offered me protection. Said he'd take me and my kids in, that he'd take care of us."

She drew in a breath, steadying Ruby against her. "He said I'd never go hungry again. That I could keep Ian and Ruby safe—if I belonged to him."

Jerry shifted beside Ezekiel. I didn't move, but I could feel the heat boiling in my gut just hearing it again. I'd heard it before, when she first told me, but it never stopped cutting.

Ella kept going, voice lower now but more intense.

"When he made our group kneel," she said, "he didn't just look at me. He sized me up. Then he came to our gates. He came int my home, touched my face. Asked if I'd ever thought about a 'better life.' One where I didn't have to fight. All I could think about was my son watching. My daughter at home. I thought about whether I could kill him fast enough if he tried to take me."

Her hand gently stroked Ruby's back.

"I've seen what he does to people who say no. What happens when someone gets in his way. And I'll be damned if I let him put his hands on me again, or come anywhere near my kids."

Ezekiel's expression faltered—just slightly. But I saw it. The flicker of something real beneath the calm.

"We have negotiated terms that maintain balance," Ezekiel replied.

Ella scoffed, soft but sharp. "They're not terms. They're threats with a smile."

God, I could've kissed her right then.

Ezekiel was silent for a beat too long.

I stepped forward just enough to draw his eye. "She ain't wrong," I said. "You think Negan sees this place as some untouchable sanctuary? He's just biding his time. Waitin' for the right moment to gut you and take your crown."

Jerry stiffened behind him, and Ezekiel's eyes narrowed—not outta anger, but calculation.

"And you would have me jeopardize all we've built for the chance that you're right?"

Ella looked him dead in the eye, her jaw set. "Not a chance. A certainty. The Hilltop is already bleeding. Alexandria was nearly crushed. How long do you think your deal will hold? When they want more than melons and pigs? When they want people? When they take your fighters and your children?"

Ezekiel's shoulders shifted, his jaw tightening.

"My daughter," Ella said softly, bouncing Ruby gently, "doesn't understand what a Savior is. But one day she will. If we don't stop this, if we don't fight together, she'll grow up in a world ruled by them. I won't let that happen. Not for her. Not for any child."

Ruby whimpered again, and Ella pressed a kiss to her dark curls.

Ezekiel looked at her for a long time—too long. I could tell by the crease in Ella's brow she knew what was coming before he even said it.

"My lady," he said gently. "I hear the truth in your words. I do not deny the threat. But the Kingdom is not prepared. My people have known stability, not strife. I cannot lead them into a war they do not understand, one they may not survive. I will continue to honor my agreement with the Saviors... for now."

Ella didn't move. Didn't flinch. But I saw her stiffen.

"I admire your conviction," he added. "Truly. But I must protect my people. As I know you would do for yours."

I moved to her side, letting my hand brush her back. She didn't pull away, but she didn't lean into it either. Not yet. Not with this taste of failure on her tongue.

She nodded, slow and quiet. "Then we'll fight without you."

And it sounded like a promise. A dangerous one.

Ezekiel inclined his head. "I pray you do not have to."

"Hope's a beautiful thing," she replied. "But it doesn't stop blood from spilling."

She turned, silent, and walked away with Ruby still strapped to her chest, holding her tighter now, like a shield.

I finally stepped forward, my voice rough.

"She ain't wrong. You can dress it up all you want with speeches and smiles, but Negan's just waitin'. Sooner or later, he's gonna decide this place is worth the effort."

Ezekiel exhaled slowly. "The lives within these walls are my first duty. They look to me for calm. For hope. I cannot shatter that hope by leading them into war."

Ella didn't speak right away. She nodded slowly, lips tight, that fury cooling into bitter acceptance.

"I understand," she said. "You're doing what you think is right. But I want you to remember this moment. Because when he does come, and he will, I hope you remember the people who tried to warn you."

She adjusted Ruby again, who stirred with a soft squeak.

"We'll fight without you," Ella said quietly, turning to leave. "Because we have to."

I gave Ezekiel a long, hard look, then followed.

We didn't speak as we walked.

The gravel crunched beneath our boots, the air thick and heavy despite the breeze that stirred through the Kingdom's trees. Shadows stretched long across the grass, and the sun sank lower behind the stone walls, but there was nothing soft about the quiet between us.

Ella held Ruby close, her hand protectively cradling the baby's head, her lips pressed against the curls atop it. She was all tension—rigid shoulders, white-knuckled grip, eyes fixed ahead. Even the slight weight of our daughter couldn't ground the storm that brewed inside her.

We reached the edge of the clearing, where the trees opened and the golden light spilled through. There, a little ways off, Morgan knelt before Ian, showing him how to brace his feet just right, how to hold a staff steady.

Ian's stick was too long, his stance too wide, and he was chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tried to mimic Morgan's form. But he was focused. Steady. Happy.

We stopped walking. Just watched.

Ella didn't speak.

I didn't either, not at first. I let her soak it in—the safety of this moment, the rare calm. But I could see it all over her face: she was boiling.

I stepped closer, slipping a hand gently into hers. She didn't flinch. Didn't pull away. But she didn't squeeze back either.

"He's alright," I murmured, watching Ian swing the stick slow and careful through the air. "Morgan's good with him."

"I know," she whispered, her voice low. "I know he is."

Her gaze never left Ian, but I could see the shimmer in her eyes now. The way her throat moved when she swallowed it down.

I pressed a kiss to the side of her head, soft. "You did good in there, Ella."

"I shouldn't have had to," she said, voice brittle. "I shouldn't have had to beg."

I didn't have an answer to that. Because she was right.

"He wants to protect his people," I said after a beat. "Even if it means doin' nothin'. Even if it means lettin' others bleed."

"He said no without saying no," she whispered. "He just wants to close the gates and pretend the world won't reach them."

She looked down at Ruby in her arms, brushing a kiss to her temple. "It always reaches you, eventually."

I heard the crack in her voice then. The tremor. She wasn't just angry. She was scared. Scared and furious that we were still here—pleading for help, still not safe, still looking over our shoulders.

Her fingers tightened around mine.

"I can't stop thinking about that day," she admitted. "The lineup. What we saw. What we felt. I can still hear Maggie screaming. I can still see Carl pinned to the ground."

I said nothing. My throat was too tight.

"I keep thinking," she went on, "what if Negan hadn't given me a choice, when he came to Alexandria? What if he'd decided I was his the moment he saw me? What if he'd taken me—taken the kids—without asking?"

Her voice trembled now, barely above a breath. "What would I have done? What could I have done?"

I turned her toward me, my hands firm on her hips. "That didn't happen."

"It could have."

"But it didn't," I said, my voice low and sharp. "Because you were brave. Because you held your head up. Because you didn't break, even when he tried to make you."

She blinked hard, the shimmer behind her eyes finally spilling over. I caught the tear with my thumb, brushing it away.

"You're stronger than him, Ella. Stronger than any of 'em."

"I'm tired of having to be," she whispered. "I want a world where I don't have to keep proving that."

"We'll build it," I said, my hand sliding around to the small of her back. "For them."

She looked at me for a long time—those eyes of hers searching my face like she needed to memorize it all over again. She let out a shaky breath and leaned into my chest.

I held her tight, pressing my cheek to the crown of her head. Ruby stirred in her arms, gurgling softly.

When she pulled back, she nodded toward the clearing. "Let's go see our boy."

We walked the rest of the way in silence, hand in hand.

Morgan looked up as we approached, a calm smile on his face. Ian turned at the sound of our steps, his eyes lighting up.

"Mom! Dad! Watch this!"

He lifted his stick and attempted a spin—nearly whacking Morgan in the knee. I chuckled, and Ella laughed through her tears.

The storm hadn't passed. But the sun had broken through just enough.