In Which Riona Keeps Pushing

August 13, 1181

"How the hell are you so tense?" Riona's fingertips met the opposition of yet another stubborn muscle. She'd thought Isidro had been more or less all right today--joking with Lonriad during the ride, indulging them all with a stop at a small market, picking out little trinkets for the children and wondering aloud what each would do with their present--but upon reconsideration, he'd shown signs of trying too hard. "God, Izzy, this is bad even for you."

"Sorry." As if he had a damn thing to be sorry for! His uncle had been right about him being too quick to apologize. "I don't know. I'm still not keen on this trip."

"Well, your uncle seemed nice, at least--a little otherworldly, but nice." She kissed him on the shoulder; her lips seemed to have more of an effect than her hands, but that wasn't saying much. "And even if your grandfather turns out to be a complete ass, he's a bedridden geezer! We'd need to strap you to the wall to make it a fair fight, and you'd still win."

"It's not a fight I'm worried about." He took her hand for a second and squeezed it, but quickly let go, favoring a slow retreat to the bed. "It's... you know. Everything else."

"I know." And while she couldn't relate, she could understand. For years, all he'd known about these people was that they couldn't be bothered to acknowledge him and his mother, and now out of the blue, his grandfather wanted to meet him. He'd probably end up meeting his aunt and his older uncle as well, and their spouses and children, plus Imran's children.

And Imran himself, Riona recalled as she joined her husband, seemed to see right through him, which had to be unnerving. The night he'd been in Naroni, he'd taken Isidro up on the dinner invitation, and that had gone fairly well, or so Riona had thought until she'd returned to the sitting room after tucking in the children, just in time to catch an interesting slice of conversation.

So you had some sort of accident not long after your mother died? Imran had asked, and Isidro had nodded in response. Do you mind if I ask what happened?

Riding accident. Isidro hadn't taken his eyes off the hearth, though never was it lit in summer. My brother was killed. I broke my leg and messed up my face landing in some rocks.

Imran hadn't spoken for a minute or so after that; he'd only studied Isidro's face, contemplating every angle as he grew confident in his reply. I would not have guessed that that was the result of rocks.

Isidro hadn't said anything. Riona had just turned around to fetch another bottle of wine.

"Izzy?" She pulled herself toward the center of the bed. He likewise shuffled himself toward her, one arm catching her around the back.

"Mmm?"

"Just so you know, whatever happens with your family..." Maybe she shouldn't have started with that. But it had to be said. "Whatever happens, nothing's going to change between you and me, or with the kids, or with my family. You're ours now, and we love you."

"I know." He pulled himself out of his recline and kissed her, his lips barely touching and only for second, but lingering after they'd parted, as they always tended to do. "And thank you. I don't know where I'd be if you didn't keep rescuing me."

Of all the silly things to say. Riona looped her arms around his neck and lowered her back to the mattress, pulling him down with her. "I never rescued you once, stupid. I just give you the pushes you need to rescue yourself."

"Well, then." His fingers wove through her hair until they found that spot on her neck that never failed to spark her. "Thank you for pushing me."

NEXT CHAPTER: