In Which Lonriad Wrecks Cambrin's Furniture

January 28, 1157

Not wanting to risk another run-in with Geneva, Lonriad had stolen away to Cambrin's mother's old sitting room while everyone else socialized in the hall. Ordinarily, he'd have been eager to finish what he'd started with that woman--hell, why not? She was pretty, willing, and wildfire between the sheets--but he'd noticed at breakfast the Severin seemed to be keeping a close, loathing eye on her, so he figured it wasn't the best idea.

Damn, what had he done to that kid? He'd been a good father... hadn't he? Sure, he'd always been a little gruff with him, but he was gruff with everyone; besides, the boy had adored him before he hit ten or eleven. Plus, Severin had two kids of his own now--and, if Lonriad's observations of a flushed Alina frequently running out of the breakfast hall meant anything, a third on the way--so surely he understood how difficult it was to be a father. Why couldn't things just be the way they had been before?

Oh, but it never would! His boys were men now, no matter how often he half-expected to see eight-year-old Rudolphus leaving a trail of muddy footprints down a corridor, or five-year-old Severin sprinting toward him with a turtle he'd found by the pond, begging him to let him keep it. Lonriad couldn't deny that he probably had an army of bastards running around, but as he'd never seen hide nor hair of any of them, they could possibly not fill this void.

No, he would never know the joys of being a father to a young child again. And really, why should he? He was fifty-five years old. Fifty-fucking-five. Really, it wasn't entirely impossible for him to have some great-grandchildren somewhere. He would have to visit Severin in Naroni to see children again, providing he was even welcome there, or pester Rudolphus and Eudocia into finally starting on their brood.

Ah, too much thinking never did him any good! He had to clear his mind somehow... but what could he do? He could go maid-chasing, he supposed, but knowing his luck, his wife or one of his sons would walk in on them. No, he needed something more innocent than sex... something he could do on his own...

And so it was that the Duke of Luperia proceeded to jump on the couch.

And oh, what fun it was! He felt like a boy again, only without a nagging parent or tutor to barge in and scold him. Why had he allowed so many years to pass since the last time he'd done this; he vowed to take advantage of such solitude in the future.

"Well, I must say," came a surprisingly amused voice from the doorway, "this is the first time I've ever seen you so happily jump on something that wasn't visibly female."

"So you think this couch must be a boy, son?" Lonriad laughed. "It can't be--it's got pretty pink pillows."

Severin chuckled appreciatively. "I can't help but wonder what the old countess would do if she could see you now."

"Surenica? She'd skin me alive, the crazy old bat! Er, may she rest in peace," he added hastily.

"I take it you two didn't get along very well?" mused Severin.

Lonriad smiled, but he wasn't sure exactly why. Maybe his vindictive feelings towards Cambrin's mother ran deeper than he would have thought. Maybe he was just happy that he was having a civil conversation with his estranged son. Or maybe he was just really having fun jumping on this couch. "To put it lightly--not unlike yourself and her shrew of a daughter. My God, that bitter banshee is just like old Surenica. No wonder you can't stand her; I sure as hell wouldn't be able to. You know, sometimes it really surprises me, just how much you take after your doting father."

For some reason, Severin fell silent, restoring the usual air of awkwardness between them. What had he done now? Was it something he'd said?

"Perhaps you should stop jumping on Cambrin's furniture," he muttered, only just audible. "You're his guest, after all."

"Oh, Severin!" exclaimed Lonriad. "Don't you remember how much you used to love doing this, you silly boy? Or have you filtered out all your memories from that time when you didn't hate your old man so much?"

Severin sighed. "I wouldn't say I hate you..."

"You did when you were thirteen," he reminded him.

"Who doesn't when they're thirteen?"

"Point taken. Now, get up here, brat!"

Reluctantly, Severin trudged over to the couch and stepped onto the far cushion. "You never used to join me when I asked you to."

"I was waiting for you to get big enough so that I wouldn't bounce you straight through the ceiling," Lonriad explained. "Basic physics, boy."

For the first time in a decade, Lonriad heard his son laugh. "My God! I'd forgotten how much fun this is!"

"Just you wait; Raia and Jadin and whatever parasite's currently lodged in your wife's uterus will remind you in a few years!" Lonriad assured him.

"Kindly refrain from discussing my wife's uterus."

"What? Am I supposed to be unaware of its existence? Anyway, son, how's Naroni?"

"It's all right," Severin replied. "A little on the quiet side, but not a bad place to settle down and raise a family."

Lonriad raised an eyebrow. "Quiet, you say?"

"Are you surprised?"

He nodded--or at least, as best he could while jumping. "I've heard stories about that place that are anything but quiet."

"Such as...?" pried Severin. "As a lord and a citizen and a man with a family, I have the right to know what sort of kingdom I'm living in."

"True," Lonriad agreed. "Severin... has anyone gone mad since you've been there?"

Severin frowned. "Not to my knowledge; as far as I know, the only mad people in Naroni were already mad when they got there. Why do you ask?"

"Maybe don't share this story with anyone except for your cousin Roderick, all right?"

"All right..."

"Good lad!" Lonriad chuckled as he continued to bounce up and down, higher with each successive jump. "Anyway, about six years ago now, I was out hunting with King Farilon, and suddenly, this young naked lady stumbled out of the forest, starving, dehydrated, dog-tired... practically dead. So we gave her some water and asked her what had happened."

Severin nodded. "And...?"

"Raving mad she was before she passed. Thought she was a man, transformed into a woman by some enchantment."

"Enchantment?" repeated his son skeptically.

"Her words, not mine," Lonriad insisted. "Anyway, she died within the hour, but not before she could tell us her nonsense. Long story short, she claimed that she and a friend had been hunting in the Naroni area when they were attacked by these glowing, naked creatures that turned them into women, impregnated them, and held them hostage for six months. At the end of that time, both gave birth to a set of twins--twins with strange eyes, and odd markings on their faces. The other girl's babies came first, and she died. Then, this girl had hers, took a day or so to recover, and then just ran until she found us. Madness--people go mad there."

The younger man didn't seem convinced. "You're making this up."

"I am not--you can ask the king yourself," he argued. "Now, watch me do this flip."

"You idiot geezer!" scolded Severin teasingly. "You'll throw your back out, you crazy old man!"

Lonriad grinned deviously. "That's the idea; everyone knows that the best way to get a man's spine back in place is to have a woman pound it there!"

"OH MY GOD!"

Cambrin kicked the door shut behind him as he cringed, horrified. "Lileina's new couch! Why are you two jumping on our furniture?"

"Why not?" Lonriad demanded. The silly boy, worried about the couch! He'd forgotten what it was to be a newlywed, concerned with such petty things as furniture--worried about what his wife might say, no doubt! "And, more importantly, what are you going to do about it?"

The earl took a moment to consider.

NEXT CHAPTER: