In Which Alina's Nephew Gets a Christmas Present

December 25, 1162

"All right, Princess, now that we've given the children their presents, and I've given you yours," Severin began as he wrapped his arms around Alina and pressed himself against her, "out with it; what did you get me?"

Alina giggled. "Mmm... nothing."

His brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing and his mouth curling. "Sorry if I heard wrong, but... nothing?"

"I don't think you quite understood," she teased him with a laugh, lowering her voice in the presence of the children. "When I give you your present... that's what I'll be wearing."

As Alina could have expected, a devious smile conquered his lips. "Well, if you put it that way..."

"We can hear you, you know!" Raia groaned from the couch as she continued to bounce on the cushion, Jadin and Searle on either side of her; by this point, Alina had given up on nagging them about jumping on the furniture. It was a battle she couldn't win.

"Get a room!" cackled Jadin gleefully.

Severin sent a quick wink Alina's way. "Not a bad idea, if I do say so myself. What do you think, Princess?"

"Severin!" she scolded him, turning away as he attempted to kiss her. "The children!"

"They've heard worse, Aunt Alina," her nephew Searle assured her--the younger, blond one, that was, Renata's son. As fond as she was of her nephews, she did have to admit that the fact that they both shared a name with one of her sons did tend to make things confusing. Chaos had ensued even when there had been only one extra Searle, and now, there were two. The alliteration--Searle, second son of a Sadiel sister--was enough to drive anyone mad on its own, but when tripled?

Pushing the tangent out of her head, Alina rolled her eyes. "From you, I presume?"

"I don't see how that's relevant, Aunt Alina." He looked to his cousin for support, but the son of Alina's oldest sister did not turn around; she somehow doubted that he had even been listening.

In fact, it seemed even likelier still that he was not even aware that there was anything to be listening to, and simply did not care. As to exactly what was bothering him, Alina had no idea, but she could see that whatever shadow stirred in his heart was consuming him from the inside out. Severin had mentioned to her that he suspected it had something to do with Searle's recent marriage to Danthia; while Alina hoped for the girl's sake that this wasn't the case, she had to admit that she had yet to find any evidence to the contrary.

On the other hand, she also had no evidence for that theory. In fact, she had no evidence at all; she had half a mind to write Cladelia and demand an explanation, if only she didn't have an eerie feeling that the boy's mother was part of the reason he had come to Naroni in the first place.

Fortunately, she was temporarily relieved from her musings by a knock at the door. "Come in," she requested--almost pleaded--of the person on the other side.

"Falidor, if that's you, you know perfectly well that you are not welcome here today," sighed Severin with a grin of fond exasperation as the steward stepped into the room. "Did I not explicitly command you to stay home and spend Christmas Day with your children?"

Falidor laughed. "And a Happy Christmas to you too, my lord. I'll be gone momentarily--I'm just here to deliver a present, if you will."

"What sort of present?" Alina's husband demanded. "You'd better not be presenting it to me in the manner in which my wife intends to do with hers."

"I shall not even ask what manner that may be," promised Falidor, shuddering. "Anyway, the present in question has come straight from Dovia, and is of your favorite sort--pretty, red-haired, and blue-eyed. Unfortunately for you, however, the name on the label is your nephew's."

From what Alina could see, Searle's gaze did not shift from the window, but he held to young Laveria even more tightly than he had before, as though he meant to use her as a weapon--or a shield.

Falidor cast a quick glance over his shoulder. "Do come in, my lady."

Timidly, none other than Searle's own young wife entered behind the steward. At first, it seemed she saw only her husband, and only through closed, resigned eyes; then, she suddenly remembered where she was and turned on her heel to face Alina and Severin, fumbling into a hasty curtsy. "My lord... my lady..."

"Danthia," they greeted her in unison, before locking eyes and exchanging a brief, panicked glance. While it was true that neither they nor anyone else had any insight in regards to Searle's problem, one thing was painfully clear to both of them; the boy had left Dovia to escape something, and the last thing he needed at the moment was a reminder of that.

Fortunately, Danthia herself did not seem to sense their discomfort. Once again, it appeared that Severin and Alina and everyone else in the room did not truly exist in her universe; there was one star in her sky, and that was her husband.

"...Searle?"

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