In Which Falidor Does Something Stupid

December 8, 1170

"...and last but not least, this is the master bedroom." Raia crossed to the other side of the room and turned around, as if anticipating a response, but Falidor couldn't give one--not right away. He'd been an awkward, silent wreck of a man just trying to hold himself together for the whole duration of the tour, and his lord's pretty, brown-eyed daughter was the last person he would force to watch him fall apart.

"It's... nice," he managed at last, though he didn't think the word did it justice. It was a spacious room--far more spacious than his own at home, and even moreso than the guest room in which he was currently staying--and filled with fine furniture that he wasn't sure he could ever afford if he doubled his work hours. He could say the same of the rest of the house; whoever Raia ended up marrying would be a lucky man to live in such a house.

Hell, who was he kidding? Whoever Raia ended up marrying would be a lucky man to have her.

"Have you seen the view?" He turned his head and stared out the large westward windows, allowing his gaze to linger only a couple seconds before staring at the wall once more. "I know it's not much at this time of day, but you should see it at sunset. It's too bad we have to be back at the castle for supper, really; we might have been able to watch it otherwise."

Falidor shrugged. "Some other time, perhaps." In truth, he had forgotten much about sunsets, as it had been years since he last saw one. Back in Dovia, his father had sometimes taken him and Nora out to the yard and they'd watch as the clear Bandera sky became a bright shell of pink and orange and gold before the last sliver of sun fell past the horizon and left the display to fade to twilight. After his father died and the family had moved to Naroni, he'd climb up on the roof some nights and observe as he tried to get his thoughts in order--his late father, his ailing mother, his lazy grandfather. The last sunset he remembered had been mere hours before his impromptu wedding, fourteen years ago now.

Fourteen years--fourteen fucking years and he'd never once thought of watching a sunset with Ailede. She probably wouldn't have cared to if he'd asked. Ceidrid watched sunsets with Evaleith, and Alsina watched them with Aldhein; Nora had watched them with Jothein, and he was sure she watched them with Lord Severin now as well. With that in mind, it seemed almost a blasphemy to share such a thing with a woman whose only happiness came from making him miserable. Sunsets, perhaps, were for lovers--not that he knew how lovers felt about anything.

Or maybe he had some idea.

"Falidor?"

God, what had he been thinking, coming here with her? She was scarcely older than his twins--he could even remember carrying her around when she was a baby! He'd seen her nearly every day for fifteen years, a restless, headstrong little girl with a mop of dark hair and a knack for bossing him around.

Every day--and somehow, some months ago, she'd suddenly become a woman.

"Falidor!"

He turned around to find that she'd drawn closer--great. It was so difficult to keep a straight face when his palms were sweating. "Sorry?"

"I was wondering if you knew why I brought your here." She crossed her arms and stared, her eyes as expecting and unyielding as ever; if she thought he might read her mind, she was bound to be disappointed.

"Err... to show off?"

Raia laughed--not some forced giggle like the women at the brothel or a spiteful cackle like Ailede, but a clear, ringing laugh. "No, stupid! I brought you here because it's your birthday and I want to give you a present! Happy birthday!"

His birthday! She was not the first to mention it, but he hadn't felt old until the words had sprung from her lips. When he'd woken, thirty hadn't seemed any different from twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven; now, it was every bit as ancient as he'd thought it was when he'd been fifteen. He'd always hoped he would have made something of himself by thirty, but now that time was here and he was much the same--listless, useless, pathetic. If not for his children, he wouldn't have thought twice if offered the chance to be fifteen again and start anew.

"Falidor?"

He'd blanked out again--symptomatic of his age, no doubt. A little light-headed, he stepped around to the front of the couch and sat. "Sorry. Thank you, Raia; I'm not sure why you might have given me a tour, but it has been fun."

That rich, girlish laughter chimed about the room again as she took a seat beside him. "You idiot! The tour isn't your present--it's the house!"

...what? Of all damnedest the things he'd never thought he'd hear.

"You're kidding, right?" She had to be; there was no other explanation. "Why would you give me your house--your father's house, technically? Does he know about this?"

Raia dismissed the questions with a wave of her hand. "I'm not kidding--and I did ask my father. He said I was crazy to want to give away a house like this, but it was mine to give if I wanted to. I can have my pick of houses, but I think you should have this one."

Falidor looked around the room again. It was far finer than anything he could imagine for himself; the intricate mantle alone was probably worth more than what his parents had earned in their lifetimes. "Raia, I can't take this house from you; you love this house."

"Not as much as I love you." Startled, he gaped at her; had she just said she loved him? "What do you say? Will you please take the house? It has room for all your children if they want to stay with you every other week, and it's close to the castle and the village while still being remote enough for your wife to have trouble finding; please take it?"

He sighed. If there was one thing he'd learned in fifteen years, it was that there was no refusing those eyes. "All right; I'll take it."

Without warning, she launched herself him, a joyous squeal ringing from her moist, perfect lips. "Oh my God! This is going to be so much better for you and the children, Falidor--I promise!"

His hand nestled itself in her hair as he returned the hug. How was it so thick and silky at the same time? Venus herself would have killed for such hair, he was sure of it. "Thank you, Raia. This is... well, I certainly wasn't expecting this. Do you think I could move in gradually? I don't know if I feel right about leaving straight away."

"Move in however you like," she agreed. "It's your house, after all. But really, you wouldn't be leaving straight away; you should have left years ago."

Maybe she was right. Maybe... but he'd never had the strength before. "Raia, I don't think..."

She pressed her finger to his lips and grinned. "It's your birthday, you moron; you don't have to think."

So, for a moment, he didn't. He'd forgotten, however, that people tended to do stupid things when they weren't thinking.

Stupid things like kissing their lords' daughters.

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