In Which Leara Sees Support for the Theories

November 2, 1204

While they had made arrangements for most of their children, neither Leara nor Lorn would have hesitated to break off any of those betrothals had the other party proven unsuitable: violent, ill-tempered, manipulative, neglectful, or otherwise a risk to a spouse's well-being. A dreadful marriage, indeed, did not a strong alliance make--nor would any alliance have been worth the cost of any hope for one of their children's happiness.

So far, however, their children's betrothals had proven to be, more or less, functional matches. Celina had been wary of Karlspan at first, but by the time they'd married, they'd grown quite fond of each other. Neva had grown up with Prior, and their relationship had eventually moved from friendly to affectionate. Privately, Leara didn't quite like Eliana as much as a mother-in-law ought, but it wasn't as if she was outright wicked, and she seemed to make Dalston happy enough. And of course, she couldn't have picked a better woman for Ricky than Hollie.

But if their streak of good fortune there was bound to end eventually, she was relieved to see that Koradril wasn't the one to break it. Farilon's early death had caused Camaline enough grief over her parents' political games, enough anxiety over an uncertain future. Koradril, for all Leara wouldn't have thought Camaline too keen on a widower nineteen years her senior, had both his Aunt Holladrin's steadfast goodness and his father Oswald's unfailing health. It hadn't been her chance at romance that Camaline had mourned with Farilon, after all, but her settled future.

Not that, Leara mused as she caught Camaline glancing Koradril's way yet again as he and Lorn carried on with talk of some trade route or another, romance was out of the question.

"You're rather quiet today, darling."

"Oh?" Camaline blinked, as though she herself hadn't realized this--or hadn't been overly aware of her mother's presence. "My apologies, Mother. I may have talked myself out for the day on that morning walk I took with Koradril."

"That's quite all right--though I didn't know you'd taken a morning walk."

"I didn't tell you?"

"No. I suppose that does support your theory of having talked yourself out, though." Leara smiled, as much to herself as to her daughter. The men's conversation, from what she could hear, did seem to skew in favor of Lorn's voice; perhaps Koradril had found himself in a similar condition. "That, or the theory of how little there can be to say in front of one's parents; I somehow doubt you and Koradril spoke much of trade routes."

"But why shouldn't we have spoken of trade routes, Mother?" Camaline looked over at Koradril quickly before turning back to Leara with a pink tinge to her cheeks. "A princess ought to know something of trade routes, after all."

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