In Which Alina's Story Is Interrupted

February 16, 1166

Alina watched through narrowed eyes as Viridis crawled onto her cousin's bed. The girl had taken a slight, childish fancy to Searle during his previous visit, one that had reemerged with his return. When Severin had asked her what she found so interesting about the young man, she had replied, "He's so mysterious and sad and handsome--like a fairytale prince!"

As much as she privately disagreed, Alina figured that with four girls, it could only be expected that one of them would be the type to hang onto those old stories throughout her life. Riona was almost done with them, and even Vera had begun to lose interest; Raia, of course, had never cared much for them in the first place. Viridis, on the other hand, was still a believer, the possessor of a spark of innocence that Alina no longer saw in her other daughters. Perhaps it was because of this that she was the lone member of the household who had managed to make any progress with the wayward cousin.

In turn, Alina was relieved to notice, Searle didn't seem to mind the little girl. Nearly nineteen was an age at which she might have expected a young man to find a seven-year-old rather tiresome, but he tolerated her--indeed, he may have even been fond of her. Maybe he found her somewhat refreshing after three years that had been monopolized by adults and babies. She might have hoped that Viridis would spend more time outdoors while she could--she had just recovered from yet another spell of illness, and Alina was past the point where she could convince herself that there wouldn't be another one in the near future--but she had to admit that the girl's visits with her cousin did seem to benefit them both.

"I take it you want another story?" he asked as she settled herself, his voice taking a neutral tone--knowing Searle, neutral was the best one could hope to hear.

Viridis shook her head. "No. You tell the worst stories ever."

Alina raised an eyebrow. "That's not a very nice thing to say, Viridis."

"But it's true, Mama," she insisted. "All his stories are so sad."

Beside her, Searle shrugged. "If you know such great stories, why don't you tell one?"

"I will!"

She opened her mouth to begin, then promptly closed it once more--only to open it again. Closed... opened... closed...

Searle drummed his fingers expectantly across his midsection. "I'm waiting..."

"Mama," Viridis ventured, shifting her gaze from Searle to Alina, "can you tell us a story? Please?"

Frowning, Alina's eyes flickered to her nephew. He reclined with his legs crossed, boots still in place, just as apathetic as ever, his brief emotional peaks seemingly only spurred by the presence of his little dreamer of a cousin. She wondered if he'd ever been told a bedtime story in his life--knowing his parents as she did, she doubted that either of them could have ever been bothered. "Fine. Any requests?"

Viridis bounced in her excitement. "A love story!"

There were few love stories that Viridis didn't know by heart; Alina would have to make up something as she went. "All right. Uh... once upon a time, there was... a princess."

"Was she pretty?" asked her daughter instinctively.

Alina nodded. "Beautiful. Anyway... her kingdom was at war with another kingdom, a kingdom with whom her own shared a deep animosity."

Frowning, Viridis turned away. "I thought this was supposed to be a love story, not a stupid war story."

"Oh, but it is a love story!" she promised. "So... one day, the princess and her brother were out on their own, relieving themselves from the pressures of royal life, when they were, uh... taken hostage by enemy soldiers!"

Her daughter yawned; perhaps she should have introduced the romance at the very beginning. "They were taken to the opposing kingdom... and who should the princess meet there but a handsome, mysterious man!"

Now she had the girl's interest, she could tell from those wide brown eyes and that giddy grin. "Oooh! Was he a prince? Was he? Was he?"

"No." She didn't know where the answer had come from--it hadn't been the one she had planned--but somehow, it just seemed to fit.

Viridis, of course, seemed to think otherwise. "Well, that's not right! Who ever heard of a princess falling in love with anyone who wasn't a prince?"

Alina sighed. "Sometimes people fall in love with people they aren't supposed to; Lord knows your father and I were never--Searle? Are you all right?"

As she had spoken, her nephew had grown rather tense. She watched as he closed his eyes and exhaled, his foot twitching all the while. "I'm fine, Aunt Alina. Sorry about that."

"Searle--"

"My lady!"

She was cut off as Falidor burst through the door. "Excuse me for not knocking, but... you have guests."

Alina tilted her head, a frown growing with each degree; they hadn't been expecting anyone. Was it a messenger? Had something happened back in Dovia? "Who is it?"

"Your sister and her husband, your ladyship," Falidor replied, casting a wary glance Searle's way. "Your parents, sir."

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