In Which Lonriad Brings It Up

August 5, 1181

"How is she?" Lonriad asked his brother-in-law as he rejoined him on the bench in Ashe's front room. Asalaye was watching the assembled children and Riona had insisted on sitting by Rona's bedside; Isidro had taken his wife's presence in the bedroom as an excuse to check up on things himself, mainly because Lonriad had put him up to it.

"Better, Old Hilla thinks. She hasn't woken yet, but she's not shaking any more and her fever's down and her heartbeat and breath are back to normal."

"Good." Things hadn't always been great between Lonriad and Rona, but she was a family friend, his sister's best friend, a distant cousin. Once upon a time, there had been the possibility of her being his wife. That that hadn't transpired had been better for the both of them--and their respective spouses, Lonriad was sure--but that didn't mean he couldn't be concerned. That didn't mean he couldn't sit here and hope for news of her recovery. That didn't mean he couldn't hope--for Rona, and for his friend. "And how is he?"

"How do you think?" Isidro's shoulders grazed the back of the couch, his boots sliding forward. "He's trying to stay positive, but you know Ashe. He's a worrier. Not that he doesn't have cause to be worried--mother of his children, love of his life and all."

Love of his life. If Isidro only knew. "Should I go talk to him?"

"Let him be. There's nothing you can say that will help him anyway." It was probably true. Really, there was only one thing Ashe could angst about that was the private domain of Lonriad in terms of listeners--and if he was more concerned about that than Rona's health, Lonriad wouldn't have indulged him. "He's just sitting with Rona, stroking her hand, muttering things to her every once in a while. It's probably what's keeping him sane. I wouldn't wreck that."

Isidro forced himself into a stiff bout of good posture, the sort tenants took when they feared they'd miscalculated their taxes or not paid their rents on time--like if nothing else, at least he could sit properly. "You know... it's stupid, but I was kind of hoping something would come up to delay the trip. Now one of Riona's best friends nearly lost her life and I feel awful for even thinking it."

"Bad timing," Lonriad agreed, though in this case, there wasn't any such thing as the opposite. "But it's all right. Rona will be fine, and once we've seen that firsthand, we can go."

Isidro looked up, one eyebrow cocked behind his hair. Maybe Lonriad should have brought it up sooner. "Um. 'We'?"

"Yes. I talked it over with Father and Asalaye. Father took it hard the last time Riona left, and he said he'd feel better if you two had a couple more companions, or at least if two of his kids were together. And Asalaye said she could do without me hogging the blankets for a while."

Isidro didn't laugh. Lonriad wasn't sure why he'd expected he would, but... oh well. There would be plenty of chance on the journey. "But I'm with Riona. She can't leave without knowing that her best friend is going to be all right, and I can't leave without knowing the same about mine."

His brother-in-law's eyes swept him over a couple of times, some private debate going on behind them. But Lonriad would never know the precise arguments. All he was permitted to hear was a resigned mutter of "You'd better not expect me to pay your food and board."

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