In Which Raia's Mind Is Read

November 27, 1171

"Brought the duchess along, I see," noted Raia's father as Lorn ushered Leara into the room. "Dear God--I'm never going to get used to saying that, am I?"

In a bit of a teasing mood, Raia sent a wink Leara's way. "I imagine Lorn's never going to get used to hearing that."

Leara smirked. Lorn had been a regular visitor over the course of the past few months, but Leara's father had forbidden her from seeing Raia while she was still living under his roof. After the wedding, she'd called a couple times, but a slight bit of illness had been sweeping through Armionshire and from what Raia had heard, Leara had come down with a terrible case of whatever it was. It was good to see her back on her feet again--not to mention, here.

"Funny that you should mention things we're never going to get used to saying, really." Lorn sent a sly smile Raia's way, then turned back to her father. "What's it like to be old enough to be a grandfather?"

Raia's father granted the conversation a brief pause; she couldn't see his face from where she was seated, but she didn't doubt he was annoyed. "You damn kids these days have no respect."

Looking cheeky, Lorn shrugged. "Well, at least I don't have grandchildren."

"That's just because of the two of us, you're the only one who hasn't spent the better part of the past three decades getting laid."

Raia rolled her eyes. Only her father--and maybe her grandfather, she supposed--could take a joke about his age and turn it into a compliment to his own masculinity. It could have been worse, though. He could have been angry--about Lorn's jokes, everything.

In any case, Lorn didn't appear to know how to respond, or if he even wanted to; if that was it, Raia didn't blame him. "Well, I suppose I'll probably have grandchildren at a younger age than you anyway."

Raia's father sniffed. "Known ones, perhaps. Anyway, what was it you wanted to discuss with me?"

"Ah, yes!" Lorn snapped his fingers, a devious sort of twinkle in his eye. Having spoken with him earlier that week, Raia had a feeling she knew what he wanted; an exchanged glance with Leara told her that she wasn't the only one. "It's about my sister. You see, I can't help but notice that she and your son are rather--"

"Save your breath, Lorn," Raia muttered as she fiddled with the laces at her side; she knew she didn't look nearly seven months along, but at times she did feel it. "You're not going to win this one."

A sigh confirmed her father's agreement. He, however, could not afford to be so blunt; he was a diplomat, after all. "Lorn, kindly step into my study."

Lorn did as he was told, the newly-oiled door swinging shut behind him. Raia's father nodded toward Leara, then turned to follow, stopping at Raia's feet.

"Would you like me to put on a fire? I'd prefer it if you didn't do so yourself."

Raia groaned. Most fathers punished their knocked-up daughters by locking them in convents or quickly marrying them off or otherwise disposing of them; Raia's, whether he meant it out of spite or not, took the opposite approach and stifled her with constant patronizing. "Christ, Father! I'm not an invalid!"

"I know." He bent down and kissed her brow, then placed his hand on the doorhandle and pulled it open. "I just don't want you to worry about anything other than growing my little granddaughter in there."

"It could be a boy, you know," she ventured, if only because she thought it might bother him.

Indeed, she seemed to have succeeded in that regard. "It had better not be! Your stepmother and I have a wager, and believe me when I say that you don't want to know what I have to do if I lose." His mouth twitching into an indulgent smirk, he stepped into his study and shut the door behind him.

Shaking her head, Raia eased herself to her feet and dragged herself toward Leara; walking was beginning to get a little difficult, but it was never long before she grew tired of sitting around all day. "Ridiculous."

Amused, Leara glanced behind Raia toward the study door. "He seems surprisingly all right with everything."

Raia shrugged. "Well, he likes to think he is. I don't know if that's really the case, but I suppose he gets points for trying."

"You got that right." Her friend shuddered. "I don't even want to know what my father would have done if it had been me--shipped me off to the nunnery, probably, or married me off."

"He already did marry you off."

As if stifling a laugh, Leara's face strained. "Oh Lord, no! I practically married myself off; why could I have possibly wanted to stay in the same castle as Laralita for any longer than necessary?"

"Granted." Raia's gaze fell briefly to the wedding band on her friend's finger, then traveled back upward to meet her eye. "I suppose I lucked out in the stepmother department. Nora's really the only source of fun I have these days, since she got knocked up around the same time I did."

"Oh?" Leara raised an eyebrow; having grown up with the queen, the idea of a reasonable stepmother was no doubt lost on her. "What have you two been doing? Making dresses?"

Raia snorted. "Oh God, no! We both hate sewing, and Viridis has made enough dresses for a whole army of babies by this point anyway. We've mainly just been making fun of my brothers. We even went through their stuff one day--did you know that Jadin keeps a diary?"

"No!" The duchess's breath escaped her mouth in the form of a giggle. "What does he write about?"

"Mainly his sexual partners; he keeps a chart and gives them a score out of ten in every act." She watched in amusement as Leara continued to fight back her laughter. "Your sister-in-law has a row, but all of her squares are blank except for the kissing one. He gave her a perfect ten, and has stars by her name, plus an arrow and a note reminding him to 'complete data collection soon'."

"Well, someone will be getting a chaperon from now on, that's for sure!" Her snickers fading out, Leara pushed back her hair and sighed. "I know I shouldn't be laughing, but it's a funny thought--Jadin and his chart. Anyway, what else have you been up to."

Raia felt her eyelids droop at the very thought. "My brothers' Latin lessons."

Leara raised an eyebrow. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

"The thought of them turning in perfect exercises and then failing to conjugate a single verb when called upon amuses me somewhat." The laces suddenly loose again, Raia bit her lip and tugged at them; she'd always been scrawny, but if this was the cost of curves, she didn't think them worth it. "As does the thought of pissing off Father Sextus. But obviously it gets tiresome--do yourself a favor and never get pregnant."

An odd, winsome smile playing on her mouth, Leara swayed somewhat to the side. "Funny you should say that, really."

Surging out of her slight slouch, Raia blinked. "You don't mean..."

The grin unchanging, Leara nodded. "Goodwife Diarn says it'll some time around Midsummer."

Midsummer! They certainly hadn't wasted any time--not that Raia was surprised, the way Lorn and Leara always looked at each other. Trying to be mindful of her stomach, she pulled the other girl toward her and hugged her as tightly she could manage. "Leara! You sneaky little thing!"

"Alas, I fear I shall never be a little anything again."

"Nonsense!" She gave her a quick pat on the shoulder before stepping back. "I hope they're the same type and they can play together."

Suddenly devious, Leara shook her head in disagreement. "I hope they're different types--and they get married."

"Ha!" Raia ran one loving hand down the bulge in her kirtle; it seemed the only way to break the harsh news to the thing. "As if Lorn would let his firstborn marry the child of a steward."

"Then perhaps they shall have a scandalous love affair!" She snickered at her own joke; Raia soon followed. "Really, my eyes and your nose on the same person? We'd have the most beautiful grandchild that ever walked the earth!"

Grandchild? Raia wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or vomit; perhaps this was how her father felt these days. "For Christ's sake, Leara! Neither of us even has a full child yet!"

"Yes, thank God." While Raia took to fiddling with the now-tight laces again, Leara placed her hand to her chin and frowned. "When did we get so old?"

Ugh... they really were old now, weren't they? Raia sighed. "I never thought we'd be boring enough to carry on a whole conversation about babies."

"I know." Impatient, Leara rubbed at the back of her neck; Raia didn't know whether or not to warn her that she'd be doing an awful lot of that in the coming months. "How about we pretend this conversation never happened?"

Uncanny--she'd read her mind. "Agreed. Now, how about we go see if the master diarist has added another page since yesterday?"

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