In Which Severin Charts the Cycle

July 19, 1184

"Look, she showed up out of the blue with nowhere else to go and all she wanted was a chance, so why shouldn't I have given it to her?" Severin tried to keep from sighing as he watched Abrich's lashes fold into each other, annoyed. He did understand the worry. He'd worried when his sons had started their training, which was partly why he'd chosen to train the older three himself, and why he'd sent the younger three no further than their in-shire brothers and brother-in-law. If his daughters had shown any interest in pursuing the path to knighthood--or did, if he supposed it wasn't too late for Thetis--he would have preferred some firsthand involvement in their progress as well.

But for some fathers of some daughters, firsthand involvement might not have been enough, and Abrich might have been 'some fathers'. But what did 'some fathers' know? If Renata found no joy in stitching samplers or music lessons, why should she be forced to endure them--especially given her undeniable talents in other areas? "If it makes you feel at all better, I did ask your mother, as Renata's closest in-country relative. She took no issue with your daughter's training."

"So my mother still overrides my authority at my age. Yes, that makes me feel so much better." Thirty-six or not, it would have been a nasty barb to tell Abrich he'd miss his mother's overriding when she was gone, so Severin saved it. It was the question of the younger Renata at hand anyway. "Look, Odette's in the middle of a pregnancy right now, and she hit the roof when Renata disappeared like that. This stress isn't good for her or the baby--or anyone else in the household."

"Is it really any less stressful for Odette when Renata is there? All I've heard is that she expects Renata to be the perfect little lady and gets in a huff when she can't do that." Not for the first time since Renata had arrived, Severin wondered if Abrich knew that Odette had been one of the women Roderick had paraded in front of him after Alina's death. Given that she might have been among the least objectionable of the lot had it not been for her young age, it was a shame to think she'd turned out to be so restrictive a mother. Another arrow dodged. "It seems to me as if this would be better for the both of them."

"I've considered sending Renata somewhere else--to Karlspan and Cladelia, perhaps. But even if they don't get along, she's still Odette's eldest, and I won't have her off pursuing some passing fancy of which her mother disapproves."

Perhaps this was why Renata and CeeCee has so easily bonded. CeeCee's high academic standards weren't taken seriously either. "Abrich, this isn't a 'passing fancy'. Even without any formal page training, she has more raw talent than any other squire I've trained. More discipline too." Possibly because she had more of a need to prove herself. Her parents presented ample evidence of that. "If you give me a few years, I'm certain I could make an excellent knight of her."

"A knight? Do you want to give her poor mother an apoplexy?"

"Why on earth should Renata's success give her mother an apoplexy?" Why couldn't some people realize that there were as many ways to be successful as there were people on the planet? "So what if her interests and skills aren't what Odette always expected from a daughter? A parent ought to be supportive."

Abrich sniffed, one hand raised to scratch at his newly-grown beard. God, he was young--young enough that one day, he might be able to look back on this with a fresher, wiser perspective.

But also young enough that he should have remembered what it was to desire. "I love my daughter. I don't want life to be hard for her. The world is cruel to those who are different."

And so it was. That didn't change much. "Pretending to be the same isn't any easier than being different. The only way Renata will ever be happy is if she gets to make that decision for herself."

It might have been a foreign concept, choice. Abrich himself had been heir to his father's lands and title, his whole future mapped for him since they'd pulled him from his mother--and while Severin couldn't claim to know him well, he doubted that Abrich had truly wanted to be lord deep down. Those without choice took no issue with denying the choice of others.

And that was the true cruelty of the world. It ran pattern upon pattern, cycle upon cycle, misery becoming bitterness, then viciousness, and misery again. "Don't make my wife and I the villains."

NEXT CHAPTER: