In Which Rona Will Not Focus

December 10, 1180

"Well, everything feels as it should," Arydath declared, hand rising from Rona's stomach with an almost divine confidence. "He's bigger than his sister was at that stage. Good to see he's been easier on you too."

Rona smiled. Her last pregnancy had been the roughest nine months of her life, and while Yvanette had been more than worth it, she couldn't get over the relief of this new baby not wreaking that same havoc on her health. "I should hope that's a trend--each one easier than the last."

"It might be, but I wouldn't recommend getting your hopes up." The midwife's dark eyes flitted over to Hilla and Riona, here for the afternoon on the premises of cakes and morale support. And playtime, apparently. "Hilla, for a woman who was mere weeks ago ruing the day either of her best friends dared have a son instead of another daughter for Gualtiero to choose from, you seem quite taken with that little boy."

"I can't help it, Mother. He's a little charmer."

"I should hope not!" Riona scooped little Nato up to her shoulder, away from Hilla's tickling fingers. "I need to have my fill of him before some other woman steals him away."

"Well, whenever I have a daughter, you know where her sights will be set..."

Arydath sighed. "Are they always trying to marry off their small children?"

"Yes, just like everyone else." And they were welcome to do so if they liked, she supposed, though her own children would not be put through any of that, not after how her brother had ultimately married her off, even if she'd been lucky enough to get someone half-decent. Still, she had to wonder... "So you're sure he's a 'he'?"

"Oh, Rona, don't be silly!" cooed Hilla, not for a second turning away from the baby in front of her. "Mother guessed all of your little siblings, didn't she? And all your nieces and nephews--and your daughter, for that matter. You know she's always right."

Her mother sniffed. Rona doubted Arydath was the sort who took lightly to others answering questions on her behalf, but since it was Hilla, it may have been a good-natured prod that would get off easy. "Well, it's not as if I've never been wrong. But it is a statistical abnormality."

"How do you even guess such a thing?" Riona looked over after leaving a kiss on her son's cheek, possibly the first time she'd looked anyone else in the face that day. "I've always wondered how you do it."

"That makes two of us." The midwife shrugged. "But I've stopped questioning at this point. It's like knowing that grass is green--except when it's brown."

And knowing Arydath's record, it wasn't brown very often. "Well, now that you've said, I suppose it should be safe to start calling him Darry."

Arydath smirked, thought not without a twinge of confusion in her eye. Not that Rona supposed she could blame her, this being Rona and Ashe's first son. "For your husband's Uncle Eldaron?"

"Yes, well... Lorn and Xeta both have sons named after my father already, and when I asked Ashe about his father, he said he'd rather name a boy for his uncle--being a hero and all, you know?" But the twinge remained. "That's not too odd, is it?"

"Given that he was a notable figure? Not particularly, no." Arydath crossed her arms, mouth curving downward in a peculiar half-frown. Whatever she said, it certainly didn't look like she... "Really, I'm still trying to puzzle out why you two named your daughter after his aunt."

...Eh? "What are you talking about? Yvanette was Ashe's mother's name."

"No, I'm pretty sure it was his aunt's. She did live in my territory when her daughter was born."

Well, she had, but... "I think my husband would know his own mother's name."

"I'd think that too, but I'm damn sure that Yvanette was his aunt. The sad fact of this business is that you lose some women, and you don't forget the ones you couldn't save." One of her fingernails slid beneath another, a nervous habit Rona had witnessed once before, during one of her own mother's later and more complicated labors. "And in my own more trivial case, you don't forget the ones you don't guess either, so I'm doubly sure."

"So..."

"That birth is pretty much a scar on my memory? More or less. The mother died, and the baby I would have bet my life on being a boy turned out to be a pretty green-eyed girl--both rarities, the former a tragedy as well." Arydath's fidgeting hand dropped to the side, her features falling with it. "Yes, I'm sure her name was Yvanette."

Rona swallowed. Everyone in Naroni knew for a fact that the midwife was no liar. If Arydath told you anything, it was wise to believe it. If she corrected you, you must have been wrong. And if she stood by her claim, however impossible it might have been, particularly if the circumstances surround said claim were not a thing easily forgotten...

Well, it was a damn rotten way to once again smack your head on the fact that your husband was a compulsive liar. But Rona wouldn't focus on that. Her baby was healthy and was growing well and was going to be a boy, and she'd soon have one of each. And her friends were here, and they were all well and happy, and they would soon feast on Rona's cook's delicious cakes, and Arydath would join them. And then Rona's mother would return to the castle with Yvanette and they'd have a nice visit. And then her husband would get home and she'd have to get on his case about his compulsive lying.

But no, she would not focus on that now. She absolutely refused to focus on that now. Not just yet. "So... time for cake?"

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