In Which Isidro Turns to Ice

April 7, 1175

The morning light wreaked havoc in the brief seconds it met Isidro's freshly-opened eyes, but it took only a few rapid blinks to weaken it. If only the sight of Riona could have been so easy to handle.

Maybe he'd been a little hard on her. Yes, she should have known better, but... she was just a kid. She was immature and impulsive and likely a little scared. She was trying to find a place in the world and just because he'd given up on ever doing so himself didn't mean that he couldn't understand the desire. She was adrift and in search of a safe harbor, and yet she couldn't see that she'd had one all along.

But if he could... then surely it would have been cruel not to point her in that direction? Or maybe not. Maybe she had to make her own mistakes.

Or maybe she'd already made them.

But it wasn't as if it was productive to just sit and ponder it. Isidro rolled onto his back and lifted himself by pressing his palms to the mattress. Riona was still asleep, but Bernardo's snores still rang from the next room; they didn't need to be up just yet. He would let her sleep a little longer if she cared to. Maybe he'd see if Augustin and his father were awake. He didn't know how he'd excuse his leaving the party or how they'd react but he was past the point of caring. He'd learned long ago that his father's love was not a reward to which scrawny, scar-faced mongrels could aspire. He had nothing to lose.

Beside him, Riona shifted. She lay with her back toward him, the uneven fringe of her self-cut hair not quite long enough to hide the back of her swan-like neck. Her milky skin was flecked with tiny freckles all the way down her back so far as he could see. They suited her, but if she was anything like most of the women he knew, she probably hated them. Then again, she wasn't much like most of the women he knew.

Oh well. It wouldn't be long now before their acquaintance drew to a close. His father had chosen a slow route--probably to trick Maria's father into thinking the journey had been more arduous than in truth--and Isidro didn't doubt that he could make it back to Naroni in less than a couple months, even with an uncooperative Riona in tow. She'd be safe in her father's arms again, and then he'd... well, that was the fuzzy part. If he left now, he didn't think his own family would take him back. Maybe he'd just have to set up a farmstead somewhere. At least he had time to think about it.

"Izzy?"

Cringing, Isidro rose from the bed and watched as Riona pulled herself into a sitting position. Why the hell did she insist on calling him that? "I had a dream about you last night. You were in a boat on a river and--"

"Never mind that." As if he cared about the silly dreams of a fourteen-year-old. He didn't recall much about being fourteen, but he doubted it had included boring everyone in sight with the details of meaningless night visions. Maybe it was different for girls? "Look, I'm sorry about last night, all right? Maybe I was a bit harsh--but I'm still taking you home."

Resolute, he made his way around to her side of the bed; Riona slung her legs over the side of the bed and sniffed. "If you don't want me around, why did you let me tag along in the first place?"

"I figured that by your logic, my permission would rob the idea of its appeal." And never again would he attempt to figure anything by her logic--ever. "Clearly, I was wrong."

"I'll say." She laughed a pretty little laugh that she'd been hiding under forced low guffaws for the past few months. Her eyes seemed to spark in time with it. Isidro had never been partial to blue eyes--he found them common and unremarkable alongside the greens and the violets and the vast range of hazels the world had to offer--but somehow he couldn't look away. "But you can't take me home just yet. We've hardly even done anything."

"My apologies in that case, but it's necessary." Riona raised an eyebrow. She wasn't the sort who would blindly accept what he had to say and he knew it. How to put it, though? It wasn't so much a question of what he deemed suitable for her ears as it was how much he cared to admit. "I can't risk my father finding out about you. He... well, he has a specific idea of what a woman should be, and women who don't fit that..." The end of the phrase eluded him, but no matter; she must have gotten the idea.

Her mouth flattening to a quizzical line, Riona's head drooped to one side. "What happened to your mother?"

What? He fought to look away as his veins turned to ice. Of all the times she could have proven herself clever, she'd had to stumble upon the one person he cared to discuss even less than his father. He tried to steady his shaking hand, but all control of his useless, dumbstruck body had left him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

His fingers twitched in a rapid back-and-forth succession against the side of his bad leg. He was trying not to look but Riona's eyes seemed to have gone in that direction. It wasn't until a warm, soft grasp had stilled the motion that he dared breathe again. "Sorry...

"Anyway... can we at least get to the sea first? I've always wanted to see it."

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