In Which Florian Annoys and Is Annoyed

February 11, 1170

Florian stepped into the study and greeted his disgruntled lord with a wide grin. He had been given the day off, and he knew exactly why--indeed, it was also the reason he had come. "Happy birthday!"

The baron shot him an annoyed glare; Florian briefly wondered if he'd considered the possibility of a surprise visit for the sole purpose of being a grievance. "Get out."

As if he had any intention of doing so. "So, my lord, how does it feel? Is there truly such a difference between thirty-nine and forty?" If there was one thing that Florian had learned about the nobility, it was that most of the adults had an incredible preoccupation with their ages; birthdays were always dreaded, and God help everyone else if one of the lords or ladies was approaching a multiple of ten.

His lord slouched further downward and sighed. "I gave you the day off; can't you just go and savor that extra freedom like anyone else would?"

"Not a chance." Florian made sure to maintain his smile; the baron was looking annoyed, but not quite sufficiently so.

The nobleman pulled himself to his feet and stepped around the desk. "Don't you have a wife and children at home?"

"Well, yes, but most of the kids are off playing with Falidor's brood," Florian replied, taking a secret delight in the thought of stuck-up Ailede having to put up with his unruly offspring. "Anyway, Thetis wanted me to go to the village to pick up some herbs; if she asks, I was never here, all right?"

The baron raised an eyebrow. "Well, if your wife needs herbs, then perhaps you should go and get them for her."

Florian dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "I sent Evera and Setran to get them. Besides, Thetis only thinks she needs herbs--pregnant women, you know? And would you believe that she's claiming it's going to be twins?"

Likely for the first time that day, a smile broke upon the baron's face. "Well, if any woman deserves the honor of twins, it's Thetis--and if any man deserves the burden of twins, it's you."

"I won't argue with you there." Florian brushed a bit of hair out of his eyes, then shook his head. "I just hope it isn't triplets."

"What's this? You're having triplets?"

Florian glanced back toward the door, the source of the voice revealing herself to be the baroness, her small son in her arms and her own bulging middle a fraction of the size of Thetis's. "I thought you had the day off, Florian."

He smirked; he could tell by the sparkle in her eye that she'd been expecting him. "Well, it isn't every day that my lord celebrates his fortieth birthday."

"I don't believe 'celebrate' would be the right word," groaned the baron.

"Birfday," repeated young Nythran, though Florian doubted the boy understood such abstract concepts just yet.

Regardless, it seemed only proper to reply to a nobleman, even if he was under a year old. "Yes, Nythran--birfdays. You haven't had any yet, but your father has had more than enough for both of you."

Laughing, the baroness waddled to her husbands side and handed him the toddler. "He wanted to see Papa--to wish you a happy birfday, no doubt."

The baron rolled his eyes, but nonetheless indulged the boy with a hug. "Thank you, son."

"And speaking of birthdays," the baroness mused with a smile, turning to Florian, "isn't Thetis nearing her due date?"

Florian nodded. "Just one more month now. Poor thing's getting pretty tired; had to send Evera and Setran into town for herbs."

"Evera and Setran?" For some reason, her blue eyes widened. "You mean to say that your boy is old enough to be taking girls on trips to the village?"

It seemed that Florian was not the only one who had stepped into the room with the intention of being an annoyance. "What? Of course not--she's his stepsister."

The baroness exchanged a quick grin with her husband. "Well, it isn't as if she's his actual sister."

"She might as well be," Florian reminded her. "They grew up together. Evera was in my care for nearly a year before Setran was born."

"So what you're saying, then, is that they've had their entire lives to grow fond of each other."

Shit. He'd forgotten how difficult it could be to argue with the baroness. She was sharp, charismatic, and armed with a distracting amount of cleavage; had she not been, he might have thought of a retort. "Congratulations, my lady; you have me sufficiently annoyed."

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