In Which Dalston Steps into the Clear

October 26, 1157

"Really, Dalston, I appreciate your decision to sit here with me, but please bear in mind that I am not a first-time father," declared Roderick curtly. "I don't need anyone to assure me that my wife and baby will both be fine."

Oh, what a clueless sot the king was, not even giving a thought to the possibility of this baby being any man's but his! If he hadn't been saving all his pity for himself at the time, Dalston would have gladly given some to Roderick.

Oh God... he hoped it was Roderick's. It had to be Roderick's.

"But in the meantime, I suppose we can talk," the king continued. "I still would like an answer from you in regards to your Lorn and my Leara. I already have my other two tidily engaged to Octavius's kids, and..."

"Fine," Dalston sighed; he supposed it was the least he could do for a man he had made a cuckold of, even if said man had already been made a cuckold numerous times. "Learianna, Duchess of Armion--it does have a nice ring to it."

Roderick grinned triumphantly; Dalston wondered if he would ever see that particular smile from him again. "It does, doesn't it? Thank you, Dalston. I'm glad you've finally come to see things as they are."

Hesitantly, Dalston nodded. "Yes, well... you're the king, aren't you? Who better for my son than a princess?"

"Exactly," agreed Roderick. "And who better for my little girl than a boy who will one day be a duke?"

"A prince, perhaps?" mused Dalston. He knew it wasn't his place to question Roderick's decisions, but he felt that as long as their was conversation, he could temporarily forget that Geneva's baby might be his own.

"True, but I imagine most princes are already engaged," sighed Roderick. "Plus it would be nice to solidify my ties within Naroni first."

Dalston opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the creaking of the door and the sound of a woman's footsteps making their way towards them from the bedroom.

"Congratulations, Roderick," Medea bade the king. "A daughter."

The baroness had addressed Roderick--did this mean that she could tell just by looking at the baby that she was Roderick's? Or was she just trying to keep her friend out of trouble?

"A daughter!" Roderick sighed in relief. "Oh, a king can never have enough daughters! Does she look like her mother?"

Frowning, Medea glanced downward at the little girl in her arms. "Not particularly--first one not to have her eyes, even."

"Come along, Dalston," the king addressed Dalston as he stood. "Let us go and welcome the new princess."

Gritting his teeth, Dalston followed. He did not relax until he took a good look at the baby--then, he smiled.

There was no possible way that this girl was his daughter. How long had it been since an ancestor of his had eyes so brilliantly green? And how could two people with hair as fair as his and Geneva's produce a brunette child? This was it; he was in the clear. This baby was most definitely Roder--

Wait a minute.

Roderick also seemed to notice that something was wrong. His smile fading, he stared quizzically at the infant, blinking rapidly. Finally, with one last parting glance to the child, he strode between Dalston and Medea and opened the door to the bedroom.

"Geneva?" the king called to his wife. "I understand that you've just given birth and you're sore and tired and all that, but whenever you feel up to it, I would greatly appreciate it if you could please explain to me how this baby came to bear such a striking resemblance to my steward..."

NEXT CHAPTER: