In Which Florian Says the One Thing

August 2, 1172

"Oh no, you don't." Seoth's rag hit the counter with a resonant fap! as he cut to intercept Florian at the door--not that Florian was in any mood to be intercepted. "We're closed."

Closed? So much for thinking that the evening couldn't get any worse. Florian dug the nail of his thumb into the side of his index finger and scowled; damned if he was leaving without a drink. "You're usually open later."

The innkeeper's mouth curled into a sneer--a sight that he would have ordinarily found amusing. "Well, forgive me for wanting to take a well-deserved rest after that pack of rowdy slobs I just kicked out. I daresay my poor family hasn't slept a wink all night."

"Oh, and you think your family has problems." An angry, irritated itch welled at the base of his shin. He kicked it with his other leg, but that only served to substitute one grievance with another. "Apparently my son and my stepdaughter are a couple."

He crossed his arms and waited for Seoth to respond--a dropped jaw, a raised brow, a pint on the house. But Seoth only shrugged. "So?"

"So?" The blood boiling in his fist, Florian circled around the other man toward the interior. Of all the things Seoth could have said, he'd chosen a syllable so apathetic it had never even been an option; he might as well had mentioned the slight breeze outside. "Is that all? So?"

Seoth further proved his impertinence with a roll of his eyes. "Well, it's not as if they're actual siblings, is it?"

"It should be!" Why couldn't the idiot just see that? Why couldn't he have seen poor Thetis in that half-catatonic state in which Florian had found her, the guilty looks on Setran and Evera's faces as he'd given them a piece of his mind? And where the hell was that drink? "Evera calls me her father! Setran calls Thetis his mother! They were brought up as brother and sister from the time Setran was born! They even shared a crib, for Christ's--oh shit! They even shared a--"

"Florian, I highly doubt that babies have reproductive urges." His manner as blunt and deadpan as ever, Seoth crossed his arms and glowered; he was no taller than Florian, but he had way of making it seem as though he was staring down from an extra foot. "I take it Evera shares a room with at least one of her sisters, and Setran with at least one of his brothers? If so, you probably don't have to worry about the nights. Just be sure not to leave them alone during the day and don't think any more of it--and speaking of things you should be doing, try leaving."

Baffling. Florian had known his fair share of oddballs, but Seoth really took the cake; how did he not see the problem with this? "All right, just pretend you have a stepsister. Would you ever consider getting involved with her? Ever?"

"I do have a stepsister." Florian raised an eyebrow; Seoth took advantage of his shock and brushed past him. "You've met her, actually. You make a point of ogling her breasts every time you see her in here."

Florian sniffed. "Liar. The only breasts I ever ogle in here are your wife's."

"Exactly."

Wait... what?

He spun around and grabbed Seoth by the shoulder; the other man faced him with an annoyed glare, but Florian could only gape. How was it that everyone around him was barking mad all of a sudden? "You married your stepsister?"

Seoth smirked. "It's good to know that you're not entirely lacking in the logic department."

"You married your stepsister?"

He pushed a lock of hair back behind his ear, the poison gold of his wedding band flashing in the dim candlelight. "I thought that had already been established."

"You married your stepsister?"

The innkeeper's dark eyes hardened beneath the shade of his narrowing lashes. "Florian, it's not as if she's my--"

"What the hell is your problem?"

There--he'd said it. The one thing he hadn't been able to say to Evera. The one thing he hadn't been able to say to Setran. If nothing else, at least it was out of his system now--at least he had said it to somebody.

Seoth crossed his arms against his torso and stared in a calculating silence, the air thickening and the light of the room fading and flickering in an eerie rhythm. Then--

"My problem is that it's past closing time--and you, good sir, are still here."

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