In Which Adonis Can't Believe His Good Fortune

March 19, 1155

Damn, that's a lot of horses! Adonis thought to himself as he peered into the enclosure that sat between his new house and barn. How the in the blazes am I supposed to take care of all these animals? I'm only one man with one barn; these bastards look like they could use some more space, that's for sure!

There were six of them in there, he counted, and he could see a hint of a mare and her foal inside the barn. Eight horses... back in Dovia, he'd never even had eight chickens to take care of. He was going to be a busy man here, that was for sure.

Adonis had arrived in Naroni only a few short days before, and still couldn't believe that he, a boring sort of man with no strong fondness for change or adventure, had been persuaded to come here. It was only a few short months ago that he had been living in a small Dovian village at the foot of a not-so-small Dovian hill, a poor farmer, the son of a poor farmer and a long line of poor farmers before him, struggling to make ends meet. His harvests had never been bountiful, as Adonis had never been a lucky man. Grudgingly, he had learned to accept this; he would live to be old and miserable, then die alone without a copper to his name.

Then he met a priest. Well, not quite a priest; a young man training to become a priest at the monastery atop the not-so-small Dovian hill.

One night, Adonis had been lying in bed after a hard day's work, thinking about how terribly unlucky he was when someone had come knocking at the door. It was the young student, who had run away from the monastery in order to marry the girl for whom he harbored a life-long love, the daughter of a count. Out-of-the-blue, he had asked if Adonis would agree to be a witness--and offered a large reward if he did.

Adonis had decided to humor him; it had seemed a crime for he, a poor, ugly bachelor who would likely never find a wife, to stand in the way of true love. Of course, the young man was unlikely to actually reward him, but after twenty-six years of living, Adonis was used to disappointment.

How very wrong I was, he mused as he turned his back on the horses and glanced toward the small pond in front of his house. The two ducks and their combined eight ducklings must have settled there on their own accord, but the Naroni swans preferred more secluded bodies of water, such as forest springs; these must have been Severin's work, like the horses, that bastard! Damn him and his bloody generosity!

Although by this point he should have seen it coming, Adonis was surprised to see all that awaited him in the barn.

Yes, there were more horses.

Ten, he counted. Ten in here, six out there. Sixteen horses. I'm going to be in debt to those two for as long as I live.

It did not stop at the horses and swans. There were also two milk cows.

And fourteen piglets.

I met an old widow living near the border, Severin had told him before sending him off to his new home, only a few minutes' walk from the castle at Veldora. She was anxious to rid herself of her late husband's livestock, so I bought her animals for you. If nothing else, consider them a part of Honora's dowry.

Well, the house and the barn and gentleman status are enough, Severin, Adonis thought bitterly as he entered his house and began to inspect it. It was fully furnished, just as its former Naron inhabitants had left it. It was rather eerie, to think that his new possessions had once belonged to the descendants of gods, and eerier still to think that they could come back at any time to claim them, but really, he would just tell them it was Severin's fault, not his.

Sighing, Adonis ascended the stairs to his spacious attack--if he had any children, he supposed they would sleep here. He caught site of a door on the far wall; he knew it must lead to the upper level of his barn, but he had the human need to prove himself right.

Honora had beaten him here, he saw. He felt the need to take a few steps back at the site of his wife. Honora was a woman of startling elegance, an exotic beauty from some distant land that was not Dovia. She had been his prize for helping Severin and Alina wed; they had given him Alina's lovely young maid, which, Adonis had to admit, was a much greater gift than a full barn.

Admire her as he did, however, he was very much afraid to touch this delicate creature. He saw no reason why a woman of her beauty should want a man such as him; surely she had been against their marriage. And of course, they barely knew each other--he couldn't even name her homeland. She was a complete mystery to him, and he to her; therefore, he felt it best to leave her some space.

Suddenly, Honora turned around and looked at him; was that a hint of a smile on her face?

"You can come closer, if you want," she told him. "I don't bite."

Her gaze shifted to the door as he drew nearer; he wondered if this meant anything.

"Lovely house, wouldn't you say?" Honora mused aloud, likely more to herself than to Adonis. "Lady Alina and her new husband are very kind."

Adonis nodded in agreement; her eyes returned to him. "Adonis," she addressed him, "there is something I'd like to say to you."

"I know," he admitted. "I'm sorry about all of this, Honora. Severin and Alina really should have taken your own happiness into consideration when they arranged our marriage. I understand if you would prefer to sleep in a different room, or even go back to the castle with Alina--I just hope you know that it was never my intention to hurt you."

For a moment or two, she merely stared at him. Then, without warning, a grin broke out upon her face. "You silly man! That's not what I wanted to say at all!"

Adonis blinked. "It isn't?"

"No!" she insisted. "I was just going to say that really, this is fine for me. It isn't as if I had a sweetheart somewhere waiting for me. You're a good man, Adonis, and even if you don't love me, I know you'll treat me well. I just hope that this marriage isn't putting too much pressure on you."

"None at all," he assured her. "Well then... I suppose we're both fine now, aren't we?"

"That we are. Just... I have to ask you for something."

He nodded. "Say the word and it's yours."

Her features were lit with keen interest, as if even the thought of this something gave her more happiness than she had ever experienced in her young life. She couldn't have been older than eighteen or nineteen, he realized now; just looking at her youthful face made him feel like a dirty old lecher.

"I want a baby."

This had been the last request he had expected from her. She, a radiant young flower, wanted to have a baby with him, a hook-nosed old farmer; nothing would ever surprise him again.

"And then maybe after the first one... we could have more?"

Except for that.

Adonis laughed as he pulled her closer, touching those delicate features for the first time. "Honora, my dear... did I ever tell you that I am a very lucky man?"

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