In Which Severin is Answered

January 18, 1166

Alina moaned softly as Severin dipped her to the floor, planting a trail of hungry kisses from her chin down her jaw line. "I can't believe we managed to get all of the children out of the castle at the same time!"

"Mmm," he hummed in reply, although he didn't consider this a particularly difficult feat. Now that she had recovered from her most recent spell of illness, Viridis had needed some fresh air and Raia had been more than willing to take her for a ride. Jadin and Searle had gone hunting with their cousin the squire, and Severin's mother was quite happy to take the younger three for the day. Frankly, he didn't know why they didn't do this more often.

And yet, that inevitable knock on the door still came. "Remind me next time to get rid of Falidor too."

Severin glanced up at the door and shook his head. "Not now--I'm trying to finish up some important paperwork."

Alina stifled a giggle. "'Paperwork'? Is that my new nickname or something?"

"Think you need a new one after thirty years of 'Princess'?"

From the other side of the door, Falidor sighed. "You know I hate to interrupt you when you're busy with your... paperwork, my lord, but your nephew is here."

"You'll have to be more specific," muttered Severin as he pulled his wife to her feet; so much for thinking they would have some time alone. "I have more nephews than the king has delusions."

Silence. Then-- "If I told you that you knew which one, well... would you?"

He did. A quick exchanged glance with Alina told him that she did too. "Well... yes. Send him in."

"Yes, my lord."

The steward's feet shuffled away from the door, only to be replaced by another disheartened tread drawing nearer. Indeed, he did know who it was... but what was he doing here? "Come in, Searle."

He felt his eyes widen as the young man opened the door. It had been only three years since Severin had last seen Searle, but it seemed that the boy had aged thirty. He was pale and disheveled, slouching and with dark shadows under his eyes to rival those of any man thrice his age. He dragged his feet with the strain of a gout-ridden geezer and his heavy brows sagged over his troubled eyes. If Searle hadn't been standing upright, blinking and breathing, Severin might have mistaken him for a corpse, or perhaps some tortured specter.

"Excuse my appearance, Uncle Severin, Aunt Alina," he mumbled apologetically as he made his way into the room. "I've been somewhat ill."

Severin nodded, though he couldn't help but doubt that 'somewhat' was the appropriate adverb. "In that case, I hope you feel better soon."

Alina took a few steps toward her nephew and met his eyes, her pretty lips forming a sympathetic frown. "Searle, we heard about your sister. We're so sorry for your loss."

Searle tilted his head upwards, as if to prevent a stray tear from falling. He choked back a sob, then nodded. "Thank you."

"Give our regards to your family," added Severin, though he privately doubted that Haldred and Cladelia would appreciate any sentiments from him; Cladelia had never quite forgiven him for robbing her sister of the chance to become a duchess.

Searle closed his eyes. "I will when I see them next."

Severin looked at his wife, who was rocking back and forth from heel to toe; he had known her long enough to know that this meant she wished to change the subject. Sure enough, it wasn't long before she asked a question. "How are your wife and daughter?"

Her nephew shrugged. "Haven't seen them since my sister's funeral."

Severin raised an eyebrow. "I take it that Danthia doesn't know you're here, then?"

The younger man glanced down at the toe of Severin's boot. "Well... no. She might figure it out, though."

So he'd run off on that poor girl again. For Danthia's sake, Severin almost wished Searle stayed abroad for longer this time; by Dovian law, a year's absence constituted divorce in absentia, and Lord knew that Searle's wife deserved a chance to find some happiness after all the rubbish she'd put up with. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Searle, but I believe you have a duty to both her and your child."

Searle swallowed. "I know, Uncle... but I'm just not strong enough right now. I had to get away from Dovia for a while."

"Strength isn't staying on your feet, Searle," Alina whispered softly, as if more to herself than to her nephew. "It's pulling yourself up when you fall."

He coughed; to Severin, it sounded almost like a hollow, soulless laugh. "I don't think anyone can pull me up now, Aunt Alina; God knows I can't do it myself."

It seemed to Severin that he could only be asking one thing. "I take it you want to stay here a while, then?"

Searle cast an awkward glance around the study, seemingly eager to avoid Severin's eyes. "If you don't mind. I'm sorry to impose."

Alina sighed. "Searle..."

"I won't be here as long as last time, I promise," he insisted, "and I'll spend most of my time on my own, so the rest of you don't have to put up with me. I just need somewhere to stay, and I know you two are the only ones who might have me."

Rolling her eyes, Alina gnawed on her lower lip. "Fine. I'll have a room prepared for you."

She edged past her nephew and left the study, the sway in her hips present even in her annoyance. She stepped into the sitting room, then closed the door behind her, leaving Severin alone with the unexpected guest. All was silent for a moment. Two moments... three...

After about five minutes, Severin's curiosity got the best of him. "Searle, why are you here?"

Searle stared at him, his eyes among the most hopelessly broken that Severin had ever seen. "You're the only one who won't judge me."

Severin frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

The boy straightened his posture, as though struggling against the urge to fall to pieces. Despite his illness, he suddenly looked no older than ten. "Have you ever loved someone all your life? Loved someone you were never supposed to love? Loved her so much that you feel your heart crumbling within your chest every minute you spend away from her?"

Caught off-guard, Severin exhaled slowly. "Yes."

Searle's teal eyes flickered into contact with his own. "Then you shouldn't have to ask."

And yet, he had still been answered; he understood. "Riona was... more than a sister to you, wasn't she?"

Nodding, a tear streamed from the corner of Searle's eye. It was soon followed by several others; he lifted his hands to his face and sobbed. "I love her. I love her so much, and now... now..."

Severin stepped forward and placed his arm around his nephew's shoulders. "Searle..."

"I thought she was all right! That was the only thing that ever kept me going, and now she's dead, and it's my fault! She did what she did because of me!"

Severin raised his free arm and held the boy in a tight embrace; he would have to make sure to scour whatever room Alina had chosen for any potentially hazardous objects. "Your aunt will be back soon to take you to your room. You need some rest, Searle; if there's one thing that can take a lot out of a man, it's love."

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