In Which Viridis Considers What Can Move

July 4, 1177

It was a small cottage, but a pretty one, a homey one. It was well-maintained, strongly built, and situated with a perfect view of the Carvallon coastline. Searle had quite a bit of money saved up from his roaming years, as well as a few key connections in the nearby villages; they had the finest furniture, the finest woodwork and masonry, the finest linens and silks and velvets. As a knight's wife, Viridis had a wider variety of exquisite gowns than she had ever had as a lord's daughter. She'd taken a risk marrying the reputedly wayward Searle and she knew it, but he'd pulled through for her; he never left her side without good reason, neither hid her from the world nor thrust it upon her, never missed a chance to wrap his arms around her waist and whisper how much he loved her. She had everything she'd ever dreamed of.

Well... not quite everything.

Searle had built that crib himself when she'd first given him the news, four months after they'd been married. Two weeks later and they had no need of it. It happened again that next summer, and then again the following Easter. The fourth time, she'd decided there was little point in telling him; it was a month today now since she'd been proven right.

He'd offered to move the crib out and in truth her heart broke every time she looked at the damn thing, but all the same she couldn't bear to let him. As long as she could see the crib, she could see--if she let herself--the possibility. If the crib left, it would take the last of her hope with it.

Luna's tail thudded against the side of her hand. She was a tiny little thing, the runt of an orphaned litter Searle had rescued some months prior. They'd found homes for her brothers and sisters, but Luna was so enamored with Searle that they figured it would be cruel to give her away. Besides, Prince was getting up in years and more than a bit cantankerous; if Viridis couldn't a baby of her own, she supposed even a furry one was better than none at all.

Searle's knock rang from the other side of the door. Viridis tried to smile as she locked eyes with the puppy. Sounds like Papa's home.

God. Even her sane thoughts were starting to sound mad. "Searle?"

"Who else were you expecting?" he teased as he stepped into the bedroom. "The Pirate King of the Grecian Coast?"

Viridis tried to keep a straight face. So much for eventually living down the one time she'd suggested role-playing. "What did the fletcher need?"

"Oh, just someone who could read. He got a letter from his sister-in-law up north. Turns out he's an uncle."

"Oh." This was stupid. She hadn't known this woman existed until mere seconds ago. She could have been an impoverished beggar with scraggly hair and no teeth and Viridis still envied her. She could have been the sweetest, most charming person in the world and Viridis still hated her. Just because she had a baby and Viridis didn't. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

But Searle seemed to sense her jealousy and refrained from comment. Instead, he changed the subject, or at least tried to do so. "Speaking of letters, what did your sister have to say?"

She placed Luna on the floor and let her weave around Searle's ankles. For his sake, she decided to omit the typical family drabble. All right, maybe that was for her own sake as well. "Well... apparently Lorn's holding a tournament near the end of the month."

"A tournament?" Searle crossed his arms and frowned. "I don't know Lorn all that well, but I didn't think he was the sort of man who cared for tournaments."

"He isn't. Apparently our cousin talked him into it."

A twitch of his mouth told her he knew which cousin she was talking about. "Searle of Bandera."

"Searle of Bandera. And get this--the winner gets to marry Rona."

A stony glaze fell over Searle's face. Viridis couldn't say she hadn't seen it coming. If ever there was an expert on how not to go about one's love life, she had to admit that she'd married him. "What are the odds of that ending well?"

"For Rona?" Viridis shrugged. When she thought of Rona she remembered a silly, giggling little blond who'd tagged along but simultaneously kept a safe distance while Riona got up to whatever hi-jinx happened to be on the day's agenda. But that had been years ago. Riona herself was a woman now, at least in theory. Rona would have grown up too, and not in a way Viridis could have predicted. But in all likelihood... "Not great, I'm guessing. Anyway, my father tacked on a note at the end. He... wants to know if we could make it out for the events."

She'd mumbled the last part, perhaps in hope that he wouldn't hear it. But he must have. He wouldn't have laughed otherwise. "If we went, I think that would be the first time I ever turned up at your father's castle with an invitation."

"Well--yes. Yes, it probably would." It would be the first time she'd been home since her wedding too--if they went. It would be the first time she met most of these nieces and nephews that apparently shot forth like cannon-fire from between her sisters' and sister-in-laws' legs. It would be the first time they'd see with their own eyes that she'd been having regular, carefree sex for nearly three years and still had nothing to show for it. With that in mind, home was not such an appealing prospect.

"Might be a nice change of scenery. It's not as if either of us gets out of the house much."

He wanted to go. He wanted to go and she supposed she couldn't blame him. They certainly weren't hermits, but most of their connections here were based on convenience, and it had been far too long since either of them had looked into another's face to see their own features smiling back at them. He missed the family--and she did too, for all she couldn't bear to face them just now.

But that was the problem. She was still mourning a poor, beloved soul whose existence would never be known to anyone else. She had a private loss, a personal sorrow--something she couldn't share with women who needed herbs to prevent the only thing she herself desired, something that could never be understood by men who could carelessly unload into latrines a larger volume of person than she'd ever managed to keep from expelling. No. No, she did not have the strength for that.

And yet... she was so tired of waking up in the morning and going to sleep at night with that damn crib in the room, that damn crib that could only hurt her more by vanishing. The crib couldn't move. She could. "It's not until the twenty-fifth. We still have a few days to consider."

"Fair enough." Searle traced the neckline of her gown with the tip of his finger as Luna pawed at his boot. "I was thinking of going for a swim. Join me?"

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