In Which Roddie Takes a Stab at the Jealous

January 6, 1179

"And you want to know the scariest thing?"

Sev's eyes grew while the rest of him shrunk, mouth agape in that way mouths were when they didn't want to know but had to. As squeamish as his nephew was, though, Roddie couldn't blame him; he'd been damn shocked when he'd found out too. "They can bleed for a whole week--without dying."

At least jumping served to make the kid taller. "No!"

"Uh-huh."

"All of them?"

"Well... not little girls, and not old ladies. And not pregnant women either, for some reason." Roddie hadn't quite figured that part out yet, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted to--not that he was about to admit that to one of his admiring nephews. "But the rest of them do. Almost all of them, anyway," he added, just to cover any exceptions he might have missed.

Sev stood, blinking and blinking like he was about to cry. But to Roddie's great relief, he swallowed back his fear like a man and straightened out of his slouch to protest. "Not my mama."

"Yes, your mother too. Your mother, and my mother, and everyone else's mother. Except when they're pregnant. That's why men are afraid of women; if a man bleeds for a week, he dies."

His nephew's head lulled to the side. "Men are afraid of women?"

"Of course! Why do you think there are so many things women aren't allowed to do? It's because the men know that if they let the women do them, the women would do a much better job and the men would feel inadequate."

Hmm. Maybe words like 'inadequate' were a little big for a six-year-old. Nonetheless, Sev probably got the point. "Are you afraid of women?"

Or maybe not. "Nope. No reason to be afraid of a woman as long as you're on her good side. And things ought to be done by whoever does them best and enjoys them most, not by whoever has the right stuff between their legs--that's what my father says, anyway." Roddie's father knew more about women than any other man alive; enough, he'd claimed, to know that questions about women were better directed to women themselves. "Besides, women don't like men who are afraid of them, and it's important for women to like you."

"Oh." Sev wrung his hands in time with the twisting of his mouth. "Why?"

"Oh, you'll know when you're older," Roddie assured him with a wink, the pretty kitchen girl's week-old kiss still warm on his cheek. "Just don't tell my sister I told you, all right?" Not that that ever worked with Sev, but at least Raia would find it amusing. Who knew, she might even thank him.

Sev nodded. Roddie indulged him with a fraternal pat on the shoulder as the door behind swung open. "Hello, boys."

Sev's big sister led the charge, Alya in tow. Roddie acknowledged them with a raise of his brow. "Nieces."

Alina's brother took a different approach. His greeting took the form of a disbelieving stare, followed by his bolting from the room, the echo of his shout of "You can bleed for a week without dying!" left childishly behind. Maybe he'd been too young yet.

Alina shot Roddie a dark look. "Great. Now I'll have to explain it to him."

He shrugged. "You'll probably do a better job of it anyway."

"Yes, but you still owe me one."

"One what?"

"Oh, favors are better saved whenever possible, but don't forget about this." Alina held out her hand for a shake; Roddie figured it would be better in the long run if he took it. "I just came for Sev, anyway. Our mother's here."

Good. Raia would probably do an even better job of it. "All right. Have a nice walk back to your house."

"Bye, Roddie." Roddie winced. The problem with nieces and nephews nearly his age was that they often forgot the honorific of 'Uncle'. "Bye, Alya."

"Bye," Alya replied as Roddie waved. Alina raised one hand, then slipped back through the door, leaving Roddie alone with the younger girl.

"Roddie? You know everything, right?"

Oh great. She was going to ask what he and Sev had been talking about, wasn't she? And if Sev was too young for it at six, then surely Alya at five...

But she was a girl, wasn't she? She'd take it better, no doubt--if she didn't know already. "Sure do. What do you need, sprout?"

"Roddie, what's a dopted?"

It was strange how quickly fears could become wishful thinking. "You mean... adopted?"

She nodded. "Yesterday, the cook's kids were playing tag in the courtyard, and I asked if I could play too, but they said no because I'm adopted. So what's adopted? Is it bad?"

Why couldn't she have asked before Alina left? "No, it's not bad..."

"It is, isn't it?" Great. At least when Sev cried, he was quiet. "How bad is it? Who else is adopted? Are they bad? Or am I the only--"

"Alya, no! No, it's not bad. It--it's good." She pulled her face out of her hands, the tears still streaming but the frown pulled to a listening line. Now if only he could back that claim. "What it means is... well, it just means that someone loves you a whole lot. A lot a lot, like your mama and papa love you. And some people have a problem with that because they're jealous."

Alya sniffed. "Why?"

"Because they're stupid and ugly and they smell bad." There was probably more to it, but at least it got a little giggle out of her. "Anyway. I can't really explain it any more, but you should ask your parents about it. They'll know what to do." Or would they? Now that he thought about it, all he could see his sister doing was going after those little brats with a belt. "Or... ask your papa, at least. But for now, just know that it's good, all right?"

Just a nod. It would have been nice to see a little more. "How about a smile?"

It took a few seconds, but she managed it. Roddie returned the grin and pulled her into a hug.

"That's my girl."

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