In Which Geneva Says a Last Goodbye

February 19, 1171

There were three bedrooms on the upper floor, and the first two Geneva had tried contained only sleeping, red-haired children. As for the lower floor, she'd only found an unpleasant-looking housekeeper in a small room off the kitchen and of course Aldhein himself in the master bedroom, his arm draped around a pretty young thing with a silky crop of crimson hair. A pity, really, that so much time had passed and they'd left so much unsaid between them, as he was still as majestic a figure of raw sexuality as she remembered--and come to think of it, that redhead hadn't been looking too bad either. It might have been nice to have one last rendezvous, but they'd both been asleep and that was far from why she was here anyway. She had more important things to do.

Mindful of the floorboards and hinges, she slipped into the third bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. "Lyssie?"

As she could have expected, the girl was also asleep, peaceful and untroubled as though she believed there to be countless sleeps ahead of her. Poor darling--she really had no idea what was going to happen to her when she woke, did she? As far as she knew, she was just going to go for a morning stroll with her cousin, then go about her day as usual. It was cruel of them to keep her in the dark like this, but what else could they do? Surely a wide-eyed girl of thirteen would never consent to such a thing if asked.

"Lyssie?" She stirred only slightly--probably for the best, Geneva had to admit. The last thing Eilyssa needed was to wake to find a stranger at her bedside, even if said stranger happened to be her own mother.

Not for the first time, she wondered how things might have turned out had she stayed. Her last two children would likely not have been born, but she wasn't sure she liked the idea of Laralita as a mother for her three with Roderick. They were so alike, her husband and his new wife--probably too alike to raise a group of well-balanced children. At least they were happy, she supposed--and so was Eilyssa, whom she probably couldn't have been much of a mother to anyway.

Or, at any rate, Eilyssa was happy for now; alas, that wouldn't last long.

The girl's eyelids fluttered as she murmured something in her sleep. Geneva didn't try to decipher it; instead, she closed her eyes and imagined each word to be 'Mama'. She knew it was perhaps a vain self-indulgence, but such motives mattered little when it was one's last chance.

She watched as her daughter rolled onto her side, a light stream of drool falling from her mouth. For a second, she considered wiping it, but on second thought she figured it wasn't a great idea; it would be best to just let her sleep while she could.

Geneva sighed and looked to the ceiling. She'd always meant to see her children again, but she'd never thought the circumstances would be so dire. Was she a coward for not coming back sooner, perhaps? Or was she simply a fallen leaf in the wind, drifting to and fro, landing only where the breeze happened to lose hold of her?

Not that it mattered anymore.

"Goodbye, Lyssie." She took a few quiet steps toward the bed and pulled the blanket over Eilyssa's exposed shoulder. "Mama loves you."

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