In Which Medea Looks into the Mirror

February 20, 1158

The nurse had the day off, so Octavius had recruited his new steward to babysit the twins while Octavius and Medea were at the banquet in honor of King Farilon's visit. Medea was none too pleased about this; steward or not, Florian was nothing more than a filthy, thieving peasant. To make matters worse, he'd brought his own children along--they were certainly the sort of riff-raff Medea did not wish for her children to associate with, she reminded herself once again as she watched Jeda and Evera play with the ark.

"Mama play?" asked Jeda, offering her a doll suddenly.

Medea sniffed at her daughter's impertinence. She had not 'played' since she had been a girl herself, running around, dressing up, babying her dolls with Geneva...

"Don't be stupid!" she snapped. "You should know by now that it is not my duty to play with you."

Jeda's lip quivered slightly, but she didn't cry; Medea had never tolerated crying.

Florian's eyes flickered her way, full of disapproval--as if a steward had any right to disapprove of anything a baroness did! "Didn't you ever ask your mother to play with you as a girl, my lady?" he sneered.

The gall of this man! Good Lord, she hated him; Octavius could not have found a less suitable steward if he tried.

"Of course not!" she spat. "Your mother might have been a mere farmer's wife, Master Tumekrin, but my mother was a countess; she had no time to play, and I understood that. Therefore, I expect my children to understand that I have much more important things to do."

Florian rolled his eyes as he continued to gently bounce his son up and down. "Ah yes, I've forgotten how the kingdom as we know it will cease to exist if you don't sit on that couch and stare blankly ahead of you. I'll have you know that Lady Alina's mother was also a countess--and Lady Alina plays with her children."

"Alina is a child herself," dismissed Medea.

"That would certainly explain why she looks a girl of no more than eighteen or nineteen, while you yourself could pass for more than thirty."

Insulted, she exchanged a quick glance with Octavius, commanding him to put this rogue in his place, but he seemed to have just shrugged off everything Florian said, if he'd even been paying attention at all. No, whenever Octavius's precious babies were in the room, nothing and no one else existed for him. Such a weak, simple man... she vaguely wondered what that hussy of a princess saw in him.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Medea hissed as Octavius approached her, Sparron in his arms.

Sighing, Octavius shook his head. "What would you have me do?"

"I don't know!" she chipped. "Dismiss him, maybe?"

"Why? He's a vast improvement on my last steward, you know that."

Medea sent a piercing scowl Florian's way--in his immature fashion, he replied by sticking his tongue out at her. "Sure, he was an idiot, but at least he had some manners."

"You certainly are one to talk about manners, my lady," Florian addressed her with a smirk.

"Florian, please," Octavius silenced him, but Medea could detect a slight chuckle under her husband's breath. "Anyway, Medea... are you ready to go?"

She cast one more glare Florian's way, then replied, "Most definitely."

"No, you're not," protested her husband.

Medea raised an eyebrow. "Sorry?"

"You're wearing your hair down," he informed her. "We both know you never even leave your bedchamber with your hair down--let alone your home."

Upon this realization, her eyes bulged. "He's seen me with my hair down?" she gasped, pointing at Florian.

Florian smiled coolly. "Why the past tense, my lady?"

"Well, better Florian than every noble in Naroni, plus King Farilon and Prince Oswald," mused Octavius.

"And Duke Lonriad and his son," added Florian.

This was too much; she could not bear for them to go on like this. Trance-like, she glided across the study and through the door, down the long, narrow corridor that led past Octavius's bedroom, the nursery... then, finally, into her own chamber.

Oh, how sweet it was to be alone! No whining, snivelling children anywhere! No weak-willed husbands, no rude stewards...

Just her...

...as always...

...alone...

...abandoned...

...her only friend...

"All right, I'm ready now," Medea announced herself as she made her way back into her husband's study. Looking up from the couch, Florian snorted; she ignored him.

Meanwhile, Octavius merely stared.

"What is it?" she sighed--what a most tiresome man he was!

"Uh, Medea," he began, seemingly careful with his choice of words, "are you... sure?"

Medea's eyes narrowed. "Don't be a fool, Octavius; of course I'm sure."

His confused look remained. "I don't know..."

"Well, let us go now," she insisted, turning on her heel and striding toward the door. "We can't keep King Farilon waiting, can we?"

She half-expected either Octavius or Florian to reply, but neither said a thing.

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