In Which Camaline Gives the Right Answer to the Wrong Question

December 27, 1173

As ill fortune would have it, Camaline arrived in Searle's new study only to find him snuggling with his wife. Didn't either of them have anything better to do? She liked Lettie--more than she'd ever express to the girl, perhaps--and of course she had nothing against Sparron's little boy-toy, but given the circumstances, their casual cuteness was vexing. That might have been an unfair judgment on her part--after all, how could either of them have known better?--but lately, it was just easier to be angry with everyone. She was angry with Lettie and angry with Searle. She was angry with Octavius and Holladrin and especially Sparron. Hell, she was even angry with herself.

Not sure how much more bunny love she could stomach, Camaline cleared her throat. Lettie sprung from Searle's lap as the two of them exchanged a naughty smirk. Newlyweds. Thank God she'd never been so stupid.

"Good morning, Camaline," Searle greeted her from the couch, his arm still slung around Lettie's shoulders.

Camaline stiffened. It wasn't a good morning, but she didn't care to argue. "Searle."

"You know, I don't think I've seen you since my wedding." A wistful smile crossed his face as he twirled a lock of Lettie's pretty red hair around his finger. "How have you been?"

Of course he hadn't seen her since the wedding. He hadn't bothered calling--not that it mattered much to her, but Sparron's melancholy morphed into all-out woe whenever Searle hadn't been around in a while. Granted, it wasn't as if Sparron was willing to take matters into his own hands and pay Searle a visit himself. They were stuck in a stalemate of idiocy that was taking its toll on her best friend and Camaline was sick of it. "I've been well enough, thank you very much."

"Likewise," Lettie laughed as she landed a pinch on Searle's thigh. "I can't say I thought you'd ever call here, though. Are you two friends?"

"Friends-in-law, perhaps." She'd meant it as a serious response, but Searle seemed to find it amusing. Stupid kid didn't suspect a thing, did he? "Have you thought about paying Sparron a visit? You haven't called in months."

Well, that seemed to kill his good spirits. Lettie tried to calm him by squeezing his hand, but Searle's hurt look remained. "Does he want me to? Kind of made himself scarce since the wedding, hasn't he?"

"He's confused."

"He wouldn't even talk to me on his way out."

"He's scared."

"He's not himself anymore."

"He--" She caught herself just in time. She might have been angry with Searle--with Sparron, Lettie, everyone. She wasn't a nice person and she knew it. But things were bad enough and she didn't need to make them any worse. "He's been ill."

Searle's back straightened, his head inclining to meet her eye. His own put the blue of his tunic to shame; it was no wonder Sparron admired them so. "What?"

"You heard." Camaline tucked a stray hair back beneath her diadem and sighed. "It happened earlier in the month. He came down with something all of a sudden and we didn't want people to panic. That's why you haven't seen much of any of us lately."

The boy blinked; upon completion, his lashes looked just a little damp. "Is he all right?"

No--no, he wasn't. But to say that outright would have been insensitive even for Camaline. "He'll live."

Searle eased somewhat. Lettie, on the other hand, seemed to get that it was the right answer to the wrong question. "He's not really ill, is he?"

Camaline sniffed. The only way to deal with that question was to dodge it. "It's nothing life-threatening."

And yet, the look on Searle's face said it all.

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