In Which Fenrick Makes the Most of His Childhood

January 27, 1165

"All right, settle down, you two," scolded Fenrick's father from the couch. "Don't you go messing up your Aunt Nora's sitting room."

Beside him, Aunt Nora sniffed dismissively. "What is there to mess up, Falidor? My kids run around in here all the time; it's not a problem."

Fenrick's father dragged the foot of his boot along the grain of the floorboards. "Mine are older, though; they should know better. Besides, Aldara's being a perfect angel here and Cuthron's upstairs with Rifden. Seriously, Fenrick, Riala--please, just stop running around!"

Fenrick exchanged a quick glance with his sister, then rolled his eyes. This was the great thing about having a twin; whenever something concerning your age came up, you had an ally, even if she was taller than you. "But Papa, we're only making the most of what's left of our childhood."

Smiling, Riala nodded in agreement. "You see, Papa, we're seven now, and seven is close to ten, and ten is close to sixteen. Weren't you married at sixteen, Papa?"

A vein in their father's temple throbbed, which was rather out of the ordinary; ordinarily, it only emerged when he was speaking with their mother. "Riala..."

"And at seventeen, you were a father!" piped up Fenrick. "That means it won't be long before you're a grandfather!"

Defeated, his father sunk further into the couch, nearly falling onto Aldara. "Fenrick, what have I told you about using the G word?"

Fenrick cackled as he tagged Riala and dashed toward the kitchen. "It works!"

His father might have protested, but he found he was too distracted by the swishing of his Aunt Alsina's skirts as she trudged down the staircase, emerging from the upper level. Fenrick stopped; there was something odd about the way she moved. Aunt Alsina was usually a carefree, energetic girl who pranced around like a show pony, climbing fences and sliding down banisters. Her dull, lifeless tread was unsettling--there was something wrong.

Riala seemed to sense it too. "Aunt Alsina? Are you all right?"

Her concern was disregarded--perhaps even unnoticed. Brushing past the children, the older girl proceeded to her sister, not even bothering to greet her brother; in fact, it seemed to Fenrick that she was reluctant to even look at him. "Nora?"

Fenrick's older aunt frowned. "Alsina? Is something wrong?"

Alsina swallowed. It occurred to Fenrick that she was almost sixteen; suddenly, that age didn't seem so old anymore. "I need to tell you something... and I'd rather we were alone."

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