In Which Abrich Gets an Opportunity

March 24, 1169

"Claddie, what are you doing up at this hour?" Abrich sat up as Cladelia waddled into the room, her goofy smile in place, her violet eyes wide at the sight of him. Somehow, she still adored him; she'd forgiven him, or forgotten. He hadn't forgotten. He hadn't forgiven himself.

Ignoring his question, she ran a hand over her swollen middle and sighed. "I'm getting fat."

Abrich shook his head. According to both his parents and hers, Cladelia had once been a bright, precocious child, but had the ill fortune of being kicked in the head by her sister's pony at the tender age of four. Had it been a larger horse, she probably wouldn't have survived, but the impact had still been enough to stunt her mental growth and permanently render her much like a young child. She knew that there was going to be a baby come August or so, but Abrich didn't think she quite understood that said baby was actually growing inside of her. "Aw, sweetheart, you're as pretty as ever; it's just the baby getting bigger."

Giggling, she scuttled to the couch and perched herself upon his lap, just like she might have done with her father. Abrich wasn't sure if it was right to treat her like he did--indulgent, maybe even patronizing--but he wasn't sure how else to approach her. She was his little cousin; it still felt so strange to think of her as his wife.

"Abrich," she addressed him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "How'd the baby get in there?"

Shit. If she had forgotten about that, he didn't care to remind her. He still remembered her quivering lip, her trembling body, her crying eyes beneath him on their wedding night. He remembered feeling like a sick monster, that time and the couple of times after. It hadn't felt right to touch her. He wished she had protested, screamed for help, begged him to stop, but she'd never said a word; she'd never understood enough of what was happening to do so. Each time, he'd walked around in a trance-like state for days afterward, too ashamed to look her in the eye, obsessively praying that her monthly would not come and agonizing over the prospect of hurting her again when it did.

Now that she was pregnant, he had promised himself he would never lay a hand on her again. If it was a boy, then he would have an heir and there would be no need; if it was a girl, or a stillborn, then he supposed his brother would be lord when he died. He would not let himself violate this innocent creature any longer, not even for the sake of reproduction. He would not delude himself into thinking it was his right. He would not allow anyone else to tell him that it was.

"Uh... God put it there, Claddie."

Her girlish laughter rang throughout the room like the tinkering of a tiny bell; Abrich couldn't help but smile. "Abrich? How's the baby going to get out?"

...Shit. "Uh, well..."

Luckily, the conversation was brought to a halt by a knock at the door. "Sir?" It was his father's steward.

"Yes?" Abrich replied, glad to be talking about something other than childbirth.

"His Grace the Duke of Luperia is here, and he requests an audience with you."

A visitor--and one he couldn't refuse, at that. Thank God. "Send him in."

The steward didn't dawdle. In less than a minute, the duke was inside.

"Uncle Lonriad!" Cladelia sprang from Abrich's lap and launched herself into Lonriad's arms as best as her pregnant form would allow. Lonriad wasn't really her uncle, or his--he was something like a second cousin, twice removed to both of them--but seeing as he was old and their grandfather's closest fried, the name seemed to fit.

"Claddie!" he exclaimed, releasing her from the embrace and resting his hand upon her bulge. "Getting bigger, I see. Too many candies?"

Cladelia shook her head. "Nope. Baby! But speaking of candy..."

"Yes, I brought some," Lonriad assured her, "but it's getting late, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Abrich could only see the back of Cladelia's head, but he could tell that she was pouting. "Aww!"

"Claddie?" Abrich knew that Lonriad was fond of the girl, but all the same, he doubted the duke had come all the way from Luperia just to bring her a few candies. "You know what you asked me earlier? Just before Uncle Lonriad got here?" She nodded. "Well, why don't you go ask my mother the same question? She'll be able to give you a much better answer than I can."

Cladelia kissed Lonriad on the cheek, then hurried on her way. Abrich pulled himself to his feet and took a few steps toward the other man. "How can I help you, Uncle?"

"Well, Abrich, I was wondering if you might do me a favor," the duke began, his blue eyes twinkling. "You might find it beneficial, actually."

He grinned. "Ask away."

Lonriad returned the smile. "Well, Rudolphus will be accompanying King Oswald to France some time in late May or early June, and I was thinking I'd maybe travel to Naroni around that time--see how Severin and the children are doing, you know?"

Abrich nodded. He thought he knew where this was going, but he was surprised that Lonriad had picked him; surely someone like Cladelia's brother Tarien might have been a better candidate? "So you want me to manage your lands while you're gone?"

"If you don't mind," Lonriad confirmed. "You're a responsible young man, and since you're going to be lord one day, I figure you could use the practice."

"That I could." Noticing that his shirt was a little wrinkled, he pulled down on the hem to smooth it. "It's a few months before Claddie's due, so I should be able to help you. Thank you for the opportunity, Uncle."

Lonriad placed his hand on Abrich's shoulder. "No, it is I who should be thanking you. You know as well as I that I can't leave my shire unmanned, and while my wife is a capable woman, my younger children are going through some difficult stages right now and have her most thoroughly exhausted. But I have to see my son, make sure he's all right; it won't be long before you can understand that."

Abrich glanced down at his wedding band, then back at the duke. "Actually, Uncle, I think I can understand just fine now."

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