In Which Nora Catches a Second of Mortality

June 4, 1181

Nora was not the sort who made a habit of comparing herself to others, but nonetheless she strode down the corridor, the twins at her heels, feeling distinctly short and plump and plain-faced, common-born and uneducated, altogether unremarkable. The fabled Sadiel sisters had long been held as a standard of earthly perfection in Dovia, certainly in Bandera where Nora had been born and raised--and where Laralita herself had once been countess. Lady Alina had proven too kind to be intimidating, too welcoming and friendly to inspire any feelings of inadequacy, and Nora now knew Queen Laralita too well to think her opinions mattered in the slightest. As for the others, she'd only ever met them briefly at weddings and funerals, where there were plenty of more familiar faces to mingle with and more than enough going on to distract even the luckiest of misfits from any petty, jealous self-loathing.

But now Lady Renata was here, in Nora's own home, without a priest at an alter or a friend's lively banter as an alternative for attention. Lady Renata--the cleverest of the sisters, the most politically and spiritually inclined, said to be the most beautiful of those still living, fifty years old and more than capable of passing for one of her own daughters.

And as Nora stepped into the sitting room and caught sight of Renata, 'more than capable' seemed a gross understatement. This woman could not have been fifty. She could not have been a day older than Lettie, for all Lettie was her sixth of nine children. Nine! Nora herself had nine, all of whom had made their permanent mark on her body; Renata's, evidently, had been more courteous. The woman probably wasn't even wearing a corset.

Nora dug her nails into her palm. She was being ridiculous. None of this would have even been a concern had Renata been a figure of less repute, or had she not been the stunning sister of her husband's even more stunning first wife, or the only former sister-in-law he seemed to like at all. And not one of those was a reasonable justification! Why should she be jealous? She didn't want to trade lives or even bodies with Renata. Nor did she think Renata was a threat to Severin's affections--surely she wouldn't do that to her own sister? Then again, Renata's sister had been Nora's friend and employer...

No! Even if that was the case, she trusted Severin. And that wasn't the case anyway. Lady Renata surely had a better, more serious reason for turning up unexpected, and with her young daughter besides. You're smarter than this, Nora scolded herself. Stop it. Just ask her what she wants.

So, one quick breath later, she stopped a few feet short of the other woman's feet and greeted her with a nod. "Lady Renata."

"Lady Leonora." She hadn't called her 'lady' with the same mocking emphasis Laralita liked to use; that had to be at least a decent sign. "I take it you are well?"

"Quite." But Renata had hardly come all the way from Dovia to inquire about her health. Figuring it would be more tactful to let Renata announce her reasons on her own, Nora turned to her girls. "My daughters, Ceira and Esela."

"Girls," Renata acknowledged as they gave their quick curtsies, taking her own daughter by the hand. "This is my youngest, Alina."

The twins chorused their hellos and Nora forced out a smile. Alina replied each with a fearful blink. She wasn't as old as the other two--eleven or twelve, Nora guessed--but it was the sort of age difference that brought about mimicry and the insistence of tagging along, not large enough to constitute any sort of fear, certainly not from a girl so closely related to Lettie. Unless perhaps there was something else on her mind?

Nora turned to the twins. Perhaps tact had not been the best approach. She would speak with Renata alone. "Why don't you two give Alina a quick tour of the castle?"

"Yes, Mother." Esela looped her arm around Alina's and dragged her toward the corridor, unswayed by the pleading looks the girl shot back at her mother. With a polite nod, Ceira followed.

"She's lovely," Nora muttered as soon as the youths were out of earshot.

Renata paid her a short-lived, half-hearted grin. "I could say the same of your girls. Is Severin around, by any chance?"

"No, and he probably won't be back for a couple of hours. Do you need him specifically, or will I suffice?"

"Hmm. Honestly, I need both of you." She brushed a bit of horsehair off her sleeve as Nora blinked in disbelief. What could Renata of Beretrin possibly need from her? "Forgive me for imposing myself upon you. Alina and I will actually be staying with Searle and Valira, so you needn't prepare anything. If Severin won't be back for a couple hours, I might go back there and put on something more suitable once Alina returns."

"Fair enough." As if her riding dress wasn't worth more than the combined cost of every scrap of cloth Nora's mother had owned in her life. But if she wanted to change, Nora wouldn't protest. It wasn't the sort of thing she made a point to care about--even when there wasn't a more pressing matter at hand. "Care to fill me in, though? They'll be a while yet."

"So they will." Renata sighed. Even in all her tall, formidable, not-possibly-even-close-to-fifty glory, she was in that second just as mortal as anyone else. "You see, my late husband..."

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