In Which Camaline Isn't So Lucky

August 19, 1176

"My daughter!" Her father's arms were outstretched and his eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning; Camaline supposed it would be cruel of her not to get off the couch and give him a hug, even though she'd never cared much for unnecessary touching. Being the favorite could be a mixed blessing sometimes. "Dear Lord, when did I last see you? Shame on you for not calling on your old father often enough."

And yet, her distance was precisely why she'd always been the apple of his eye--and they both knew it. "My apologies, Father; I was under the impression that kings had little time for idle visits."

"True, but a king can always make time for his little princess." He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. Camaline struggled not to duck to the side; she loved her father, but above all else, she needed her space. "How have you been?"

All things considered... not as he wanted to hear. Not with Holladrin's declining health and Sparron's ups and downs and Octavius folding under the pressure of trying to keep everyone else from falling apart. But there was nothing her father could do, so there was no sense troubling him. "Well enough, thank you."

Her father's eyebrow arched. Dreadful gossiping servants... "I heard your husband was ill."

"Rumors," Camaline dismissed automatically. "Sparron is fine."

"If you say so." He didn't look quite convinced, but he wouldn't press if he knew she didn't want to talk about it. This was one of the luxuries of being his pet; none of her siblings would have ever been given that courtesy. "Have a seat."

She obliged. He waited until she found a comfortable position, then joined her. "So. Have you seen your sister lately?"

"I take it you mean Leara?" It seemed like an obvious guess; if she hadn't seen him, then she probably hadn't seen her half-sisters on his side, and it wasn't like he cared to hear about Eilyssa. But when it came to her father, it was usually best to clarify. "Yes, I saw her earlier this week. She brought the children to see Aunt Holladrin."

"Ah, yes--the children." Well... it seemed she wasn't the only one who could make his eyes light up anymore. "Strapping young lad, isn't he, that Roderick? Not that I'd expect anything less from a boy named for my own self, of course. And little Celina! She looks more and more like her mother every day. She'll be the pretty one, unfortunately for Ietrin's girl. Then again, Medea's the clever sort--not unlike you yourself."

Camaline sniffed. She was not and never had been the maternal sort, but there was a certain pride that came with being an aunt, a certain fondness--particularly since she wasn't the one who actually had to take care of the creatures. "I did always think it better to be the clever one than the pretty one."

"Of course, you had the good fortune of being both." Her father smiled, or at least attempted to do so. It wasn't a strength of his, but it was nice to see that she was still worth the effort. "But anyway, speaking of my descendents... any news for me?"

Camaline sighed. Why he and Laralita still bothered with that question was beyond her. Perhaps the next time she called, she'd wear a sign on her front--'No!' "Not the sort of news you seem to be hinting at, Father."

"Still?" He was past the point where even sounded surprised. In his voice there was only disappointment. Her reign as favorite was likely drawing to a close; she supposed Leara and her children would fill that spot before long. "Camaline... you do realize that you've been married for almost five years now?"

"I wasn't aware that you had been counting, Father."

"Well, I have been." She should have figured. She'd heard him and Laralita muttering about Jeda on more than one occasion, and Jeda had one child; Camaline did not. Stupid! "Camaline, be honest with me: does he not find you attractive?"

Of all the things he could have asked. "Don't be ridiculous. Sparron finds me very attractive."

"Do you not find him attractive, then?"

A bit of queasiness had welled in her stomach. It was uncomfortable, but then again it was probably the only thing keeping her from laughing--that and her pride. "Of course I find him attractive. We're all over each other. Every night. Sometimes twice a night, even."

Had that been overkill? She nearly cringed. Oh, you idiot... you do protest too much.

But there were certain admissions that people had to make about their own parents. Luckily, it had occurred to her many years ago that her father was not among the brightest of men. He believed her.

Then again, maybe it wasn't a lucky thing after all. "Well... it's even worse than I feared, then."

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