In Which Searle Asks the Polite Thing

January 28, 1179

Searle had five sisters. Four of them were dead. It figured that the last of them was the one he'd always guessed would make the worst companion for his quiet, thoughtful young wife. Lileina had always been friendly and accommodating, as had Cladelia and Learianna in their softer, shyer ways. Riona, all awkwardness aside, had been a social shape-shifter; she may not have enjoyed Viridis's company, but no one ever would have known it.

Celina, though... well, she was the tricky one. She wasn't brash or loud like their parents, but Searle almost wished otherwise. Celina left nothing unconsidered. He never knew what she was thinking until it was too late, and for a sensitive girl like Viridis, such a thing was never pleasant.

But today, pleasantness was hardly an expectation from anyone.

"Son."

Searle fought the urge to look back at Viridis. "Mother."

He hadn't seen her in a nightgown since he'd been a little boy, and he couldn't remember her hair ever unbound. She was thinner than the last time he'd seen her, paler, a little puffy in parts of the face. She might have been a stranger if not for the eyes. "Good of you to come."

The fire behind him cracked as his father jabbed at the logs. His father had barely said a thing since they'd arrived. His father always had something to say. The letter had said she was ill, but his father's quiet had been the first hard-and-fast proof that something was amiss. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Searle flinched. His mother laughed, so much as a gasping breath could be a laugh. "Physically, that is. I've come to terms with it. Never saw the appeal of living too long anyway."

He wondered if that was what she told herself when she thought about his sisters. "You might live."

"The doctors say not to count on it. Or are you a doctor now?" It was sarcasm, but he shook his head anyway. His mother sniffed. "I thought so. And I know you; if any part of you thinks this won't be the last time you see me, you never would have come."

It would have been barely consequential, but nonetheless he struggled not to wince. He hoped he'd changed since Viridis. He thought he had, but his mother would have read a wince as an admission otherwise. "I came because I was invited and I hadn't been home in a while."

Another log fell from the lift of the one beneath it. His mother's eyes darted amongst the other three, his father and his sister and his wife. It must have been a full minute before they were back on Searle. "Don't worry too much about everyone here. Your father's an old fart, but he's survived worse. Tarien can run things around here if need be and Jadin can keep him laughing. Celina will keep him in check; Lord knows she gets enough practice with that idiot husband of hers."

"And you?" He wasn't sure if he was hopeful, or if it was just the polite thing to ask.

"Me? I've been doing all that for one hell of a long time." She flipped a wavy lock over her lace-clad shoulder and sighed. "I'm tired."

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