In Which Geneva Enjoys Some Male Company

September 1, 1155

If there was one good thing about being pregnant, Geneva decided, it was the fact that you could be as lazy as you pleased and nobody else would give a damn either way--you were in delicate condition, after all.

So it was that she found herself lounging on the couch in Roderick's study. Nothing of any particular interest was happening, but at least there was an opportunity to study the figure of a man other than her husband; not that she had anything against Roderick, but having had the same man for so long was getting quite old.

"So what is it you wish to discuss with me, Dalston?" Roderick inquired of the duke, seemingly barely aware of young Ietrin in his arms.

Dalston waited for him to set the nine-month-old down on the floor, then began. "Well, with my baby about to be born any day now..." he trailed off, the excitement of near-fatherhood gleaming in his aquamarine eyes.

Geneva followed her husband's gaze as it fell to Ietrin; much to Roderick's chagrin, the boy had not yet grown out of his habit of sucking on his own fingers. "You're looking forward to this? Really?"

Dalston chose to ignore him. "As I was saying, I'm now more concerned than ever about this priest business..."

"Are you accusing me of not trying to find a priest?" roared the king. "Dalston, I must have sent word to every parish and chapel in all of Dovia--I can assure you, not a single priest will come! It is out of my control!"

"Forgive me," Dalston muttered softly. "I just supposed that with Geneva as pregnant as she is, you would have been trying a little harder to find someone to baptize your second child."

As she studied her cousin's face, Geneva couldn't help but notice how handsome Dalston was in comparison to Roderick. His silky hair, his youthful features... oh how lucky dear Celina was, to be married to such a man!

Geneva privately suspected that Dalston was much better in bed than Roderick as well. Not that it would take much, she added to herself.

There was a knock at the door. "Enter," Roderick hissed in annoyance.

His young steward, the auburn-haired Aldhein, entered, closing the door behind him. For one brief moment, his green eyes met Geneva's own violet ones; he couldn't have been older than twenty, she noticed now.

"Excuse me, your majesty," Aldhein began, continuing to gaze at the queen, "but there is a man here to see you, claiming to be your cousin."

Roderick gave him a cock-eyed stare. "My cousin? But all of my male cousins are back in Dovia..."

The steward quickly crossed the room and leaned toward the king, still not quite taking his eye off Geneva. "He has a priest with him, your highness."

"You don't say?" replied Roderick, one eyebrow still raised. "I know, of course, my cousins are quite fond of me, but I didn't think any of them would take the trouble to personally escort a priest here all the way from Dovia. Send my dear sweet cousin in here, so I can thank him."

"Of course, sir."

After a hasty bow, Aldhein strode back toward the door. Geneva couldn't help but gaze after him as he left; there was something highly attractive about that spring in his step...

About a minute later, the door opened once more, and Roderick's cousin stepped into the room.

Roderick scowled. "You!"

"Roderick, Geneva," Severin addressed the two of them. "I trust that you are both well. Little Ietrin sure has grown since the last time I saw him."

Much to Geneva's utmost delight, Dalston smiled; that smile could melt brick, she was sure of it. "Well, this is certainly a surprise. How many years has it been, Severin?"

"Too many, for sure," answered the newcomer. "Is it true about you and my cousin Celina?"

"Married one year on November twenty-ninth," Dalston confirmed, "and we'll have a little one to celebrate with us."

"Really? When exactly will this little one be joining you?"

"Some time this week, actually."

"Congratulations! My wife and I are expecting one of our own near the middle of next month."

"Is this the same wife you practically stole right out of your brother's wedding chapel?"

"As far as I know, she's the only wife I have."

Satisfied, Dalston sat down on the couch beside Geneva. Nervously, she pulled herself to her feet; she didn't trust herself to keep her hands off of him while he was sitting next to her.

Fortunately, he didn't notice; he was still in conversation. "I thought so. You two will have very beautiful children."

"Why thank you; I agree, providing they all look like her. And speaking of lovely pregnant women..."

Geneva blushed. "It's nice to see you too, Severin."

"Geneva, still as beautiful as ever," he greeted her. "When is Prince Ietrin's new sibling expected to arrive?"

"Around the same time as yours, actually," she told him.

"You hear that?" Severin asked her stomach. "You'll be playing with my little baby, and Dalston's; aren't you excited to hear that?"

Roderick, Geneva realized, had never done this for either Ietrin or this new baby; surely Severin would do this for all of Alina's babies. Had Dalston done this for Celina's? She guessed he had.

"I think he just kicked me," she laughed.

Severin grinned. "I take that as a 'yes'."

"Oh for the love of God!" snapped Roderick. "You already stole your brother's wife; I'd appreciate it if you didn't take mine as well! Geneva, sit down."

Sighing, she obeyed, praying she would be able to deny herself the pleasure of touching Dalston. As a compromise, she stole a quick glance at Severin's backside; she vaguely wondered how he looked without pants.

It was only when she settled on the cushion that she noticed Dalston watching her out of the corner of his eye, a disapproving, but unsurprised look on his face. Perhaps that was not all he was feeling, though. No, something told her he was just a slight amount jealous.

"Anyway, why are you here?" Roderick demanded of his cousin, slowly pacing in front of his desk. "And more importantly, when are you leaving?"

"Not for a while, I should hope, seeing as I've been living here in Naroni since March."

Roderick froze. "March? March? You've been here for half a year without my even knowing about it?"

"Apparently."

"Well, go back to Dovia where you belong!" the king commanded. "Or better yet, whatever heathen land your mother came from, you bastard!"

"Oh, Roderick, Roderick!" exclaimed Severin. "Every time I see you, you insist on insulting my parents. And didn't your steward tell you? I may have solved one of your problems."

"How so?" Roderick snarled between clenched teeth.

Severin grinned, then called, "Master Aldhein! Kindly send the good father in!"

The priest, it turned out, was an average-sized man with long blond hair and a thick beard to match. He also had a pair of familiar hazel eyes--however, Geneva couldn't quite place them.

"You may already know this man, Roderick, considering he's your second cousin, but I don't think you've seen each other in quite some time. This is Father Quintus, brother of your Baron of Tetran, and your new priest."

So this was one of Medea's many brother-in-laws; he did bear something of a resemblance to Octavius, Geneva supposed.

"Roderick," Quintus acknowledged the king. "I haven't seen you since my brother Tertius got married... eight years ago now, I believe?"

"Something like that," agreed Roderick. "How was it that this unruly cousin of mine was able to persuade you to come, whereas I could not?"

The priest frowned. "What are you talking about? Nobody's had any word from you or any of your subjects since you left Dovia--if Severin hadn't come to see me, you would be widely assumed dead, if you aren't anyhow."

"But I sent word!"

"How?" inquired Quintus

Frustrated, Roderick rolled his eyes. "Carrier pigeon, obviously."

"But Roderick, there are no carrier pigeons in Naroni," Dalston argued.

"All right, carrier swallow. But a bird nonetheless!"

"Well, that explains it," sighed the father as he turned to face Geneva. "You are the queen, I presume?"

"Yes," Geneva replied. "A pleasure, Father."

"Indeed, your majesty."

She couldn't quite decide whether Quintus or Octavius was the more handsome brother without Octavius actually present. In all honesty, she didn't find either of them too attractive, but there were more important things to look for in men than beauty alone--virility, for one.

Father Quintus made his way to the window and gazed outward toward the inner plains of Naroni.

"What a lovely landscape," he mused aloud. "Entirely empty--reminds me of the pews during my sermons back in Dovia. Oh well; perhaps with nothing else to do in this country, people may actually come to church."

"Damn you, Severin!" Roderick began to curse his cousin. "You've brought me a priest, therefore placing me in your debt! Well, since I hope to be rid of you as soon as possible, I'll be blunt--what do you want?"

Severin chuckled. "You never could accept a friendly gesture, cousin, but now that you mention it, there is one thing I suppose you could do for me."

"Argh... name it and it's yours."

"All right. I would like official lordship over Veldora."

"Absolutely out of the question!" spat Roderick. "Look, your father may be a duke, as well as my own uncle, but your mother is a filthy foreign thief--you average out as a gentleman, at best. I could forgive you for being my uncle's bastard if you had only become a priest as he intended; blazes, even after you ran off with Alina, you may have been able to persuade me to give you a decent-sized farm for you to tend as you pleased. But lord over a whole shire? Out of the question--you lack the proper breeding."

Roderick did have the most annoying voice when he yelled; Geneva distracted herself by sharing a brief glance with Dalston and his beautiful eyes. Dalston never shouted, she was quite sure.

"The way I see it, my blood is just as red as yours," Severin calmly insisted. "If you want, I could even cut myself and prove it. Besides, I doubt you'll be able to find anyone you think more suitable who would be willing to leave Dovia, and there's a little village growing in Veldora; the sooner you name someone lord, the better."

"A village?" Roderick repeated.

Severin nodded. "I daresay you have many subjects in that shire you never even knew you had. Besides, we both know that if you say no, I'll come back and ask again every day until you change your mind."

The king sighed; he was a little short compared to Severin, Geneva noticed, who in turn was shorter than Dalston.

"In that case, I suppose I don't have much of a choice--I couldn't bear to see your face every day for the rest of my life. Consider yourself Lord Veldora."

"Thank you, cousin," Lord Veldora acknowledged him. "I can assure you, you won't regret your decision."

"Don't be ridiculous," mumbled Roderick, placing one hand on the side of his face in a troubled manner. "I can assure you, I already do."

Suddenly, Aldhein dashed into the study, a slight smile on his face. "Your grace!" he addressed Dalston. "I've just received the word--the duchess has gone into labor!"

Dalston sprang to his feet; although Geneva could understand his reaction, she couldn't help but feel just a small amount snubbed. "Lina? My baby? Right now?"

"Yes," the steward confirmed. "You might wish to hurry home to your wife."

He didn't need to be told twice--within seconds, he had sprinted from the room, Roderick, Severin, and Father Quintus all close at his heels.

Now that the men had all gone, Geneva felt free to release her pent-up romantic energy with a dramatic sigh. She would have to start limiting her time in male company, she decided, before she allowed herself to do anything stupid.

"Well..."

She had been wrong; the men had not all gone. Aldhein was still here, his green eyes starting at her face and vast traveling southward.

Somewhat embarrassed, she quickly stopped swooning, just in time for him to offer himself Dalston's now empty side of the couch. "So, your majesty, it's just you and me now."

She could no longer fight it; she allowed him to place his arm around her shoulders, then casually leaned into him, resting her hand on top of his, which in turn lay upon her leg. "Oh, you are a filthy liar, Aldhein--can't you see that my son is on the floor?"

"So he is," he agreed. "But perhaps now that Papa's gone, it's about time for the little prince's nap..."

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