In Which Searle Presents the Set to be Observed

August 22, 1177

"Why the hell would I agree to that anyway?"

Nearly four years of marriage now and Searle had yet to see Lettie angry. He'd feared he might when he asked her--it was enough to anger most people, no doubt, even if there were altruistic intentions behind the idea--but it was just her typical brand of disbelief, that glare she always shot him when he did something stupid. "Er... good Christian charity?"

Lettie snorted. "Well, what else would you call fucking one's husband's lover?"

"Sparron's not my lover anymore."

"Yes, but you wish he still was." Shaking her head, Lettie fiddled with her wedding band. He didn't think he'd seen her do that before. "Look, if you want him back in your bed, that's between you and him. Don't drag me and Camaline and any hypothetical children into it."

Searle sighed. His wife was of the cerebral variety, the sort who could balance equations and reimagine trade routes and debate philosophy all night long but saw emotions mainly as something to be studied--some alien set better observed secondhand. At the same time, she wasn't frigid. He couldn't have asked for a better combination when he'd come up with the idea, or so he'd thought at the time. Maybe she couldn't experience the 'why'. It was made of unsterile things she was unwilling to touch. "It's not about me and Sparron. I just want to help out some friends."

"Quite the favor, don't you think?"

It was. But there wasn't much more rewarding than paying a favor... was there? "Lettie, if you do this one thing for me, I swear to God I'll never ask you for anything else ever."

"You don't even know what you're asking me." The wedding band twirled around her finger once again. A nagging fear in the back of his head warned him not to let it twist right off. "I've already been through two pregnancies, in case you've forgotten. It's awful--and ask any other woman and she'll tell you the same. Why would I go through that again for a baby I don't even get to keep?"

"I don't know." God, she just wouldn't stop with that ring! Not sure how much more he could take, he took her by the hand and pulled her a little nearer. "What about the experimental value?"

Lettie raised an eyebrow. "Experimental value?"

"You know." It was a long shot, but if Lettie had an Achilles heel, it was her curiosity. "Take it as a learning experiment. You can compare and contrast and... you know. Broaden your horizons."

"Broaden my horizons." Eyes rolling--eyes exactly like a few of Sparron's half-siblings, Searle noticed--she grabbed a fistful fabric from her hip and sighed. "Your own two broadened everything quite enough, thank you very much."

What the hell was she talking about? She'd been a thin little thing when they'd met, but since birthing Rennie she had the most God damn perfect body he'd ever seen. Arkon had done little if anything. Maybe a third wouldn't change a bit. "They broadened nothing." A skeptical snicker caught itself in her throat; Searle twirled her about in an effort to coax it forth. "Come on Lettie, please? Don't you feel bad for poor Camaline? And wouldn't it be great if my two favorite people in the world had the most perfect child ever?"

At least she was laughing. "Now you're just being a kiss-ass."

"Say yes and I'll kiss your ass and everything else all night long."

"Oh, you lost your ass-and-everything-else-kissing privileges when you waltzed in here." She gave him a playful smack on the cheek and turned herself back around. "I'll tell you what, though; if you can promise me that certain conditions can be met--"

"You'll do it?" His heart was beating so fast he feared it might fly right out his grinning mouth.

"No. If you can make some absolute guarantees, then..." He didn't quite have a word for what was on her face. She must have meant him to think it a smile, but it lacked the effort required of a grimace. "Then I'll at least think about it."

"Oh." His heart slowed, but it could have been worse. Indeed, it probably couldn't have been much better. "What are the conditions?"

"Well, first of all--" she pulled her hand from his and wrung it with her other "--if we do this, we're doing it for the enjoyment value. And we're only doing it once. If I happen to get pregnant, fine. If not--or if it's a stillbirth, or a miscarriage--too bad."

Searle swallowed. That... certainly lowered the odds. But if she was actually willing to consider this, then he was in no position to argue. "Fair enough. And?"

"And Camaline only wants to relieve the pressure of having an heir; a daughter won't make that go away, so if the theoretical baby is a girl, then Camaline will be the one faking the stillbirth and we'll keep her ourselves. And you'll treat her just like any of your other daughters, because frankly you'll be just as responsible for her birth as you were for Rennie's."

She did have a point. "All right. Anything else?"

"One more." She brushed back a stray orange lock, the gold of her wedding bland glinting all the while. It looked a little more stable now. "If we do this, it won't be until after the baroness's baby is born, for a couple reasons. Firstly, because that family has been through more than enough and should the worst happen, Sparron and Camaline don't need the stress of all this weighing down on them too. And secondly..." She trailed somewhat, eyes to the ceiling as though she might find the words up there. "Well, even if I say yes, I reserve the right to reconsider--and since Holladrin isn't due until October, that would give the me the time to do so."

Of course. Yes, of course she could reconsider. He couldn't think of what he wouldn't give her just for considering at all.

"Lettie, you're the best. You know that, right?"

His wife groaned. "Slow down, Champ. I only said I'd think about it, remember?"

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