In Which Lonel Finds a Less Preferable Topic

April 19, 1186

"She sleeps so well, doesn't she?"

Lonel fought to keep back a groan. He liked his wife's twin--he really did--but recently, Celina had been rather... single-minded. And he supposed that was understandable. Celina and Tanver had married in February of 1183. Despite the both of them being eager to start a family from the get-go, their first child had only been born in September of last year. That placed the conception close to two years after they'd started trying. If Celina wanted to talk about nothing but her daughter... well, Lonel supposed she had earned that.

But... well, he and Feoda had been eager from the get-go too. And they'd been trying for nearly three years now, without so much as a late course. Not that they didn't love their newest little niece, but having known their anxiety, he could have hoped that his sister-in-law could be more sensitive.

And if she had to talk about the baby in more than a passing sense... well, the least she could have done was wait until Feoda was out of the room. For all Lonel knew, it was just as likely to be a problem on his part as it was on his wife's, but all the nosy busy-bodies about took a less mathematical approach there. It was, after all, perfectly acceptable--rude, but acceptable--to inquire about a still-flat waist, whereas a deficiency of seed was a taboo topic. So, not only did Feoda take the bulk of unwelcome inquiries and whispers, but any Lonel got were likely to be about his wife rather than his own self. One former drinking buddy, a few months back, had suggested Lonel divorce Feoda on the grounds of her infertility; that man now had one less friend and several fewer teeth to show for it.

"She's such a peaceful little thing. Very easy-going too, and never demanding. Really, she's given us so little trouble that we're thinking of trying for another one soon."

He stood corrected. The least she could have done was refrain from comments about second babies.

"It's a little early for that, don't you think?" A lucky thing Feoda had spoken up first. Lonel wasn't sure he could have been so tactful. "I mean, have you even... recovered, quite?"

"I've 'recovered' a few times at about the normal rate, if that's what you're asking." What did it say when even courses were a preferable conversation topic? "Tanver's eager to try for another one too, especially given how long it took the first time, you know?"

Feoda swallowed. "I'm aware..."

Ugh. All Lonel could be thankful about where this visit was concerned was that the baby, at least, was napping in another room. A pity Tanver's day off hadn't coincided with his own. Tanver could and usually made a point to keep Celina engaged with other topics. "Say, when's Tanver done for the day?"

"Oh, probably a couple hours yet." Celina sighed. "Sir Bernardo is fairly generous when it comes to time off, but nothing seems to be enough with a small child in the house. But Tanver makes the most of the hours he has."

Feoda gave Lonel a quick glance, possibly to assure him that he did too--even if those hours were more geared toward trying to make a baby rather than playing with one. Or possibly to assure him that Sir Searle was likely to be even more generous than Sir Bernardo whenever it became necessary.

Though, at this point... felt more like if it became necessary.

Downstairs, someone knocked on the front door. Eager to get away--though perhaps a little guilty for his apparent willingness to strand Feoda--Lonel sprung up from the couch. "Maybe Tanver got off early."

"Maybe," Celina agreed. Did that count as an entire sentence in which she hadn't mentioned her daughter?

"Whoever it is, invite them up to join us." Feoda rustled as she stretched her back, showcasing to her unseeing sister a lack of middle. "Please."

"Of course."

He hurried down that stairs and reached for the door, the greetings and requests and warnings for his brother-in-law already halfway up his throat. But when he answered, he found not Tanver, but Tanver's employer. "Sir Bernardo?"

"Master Wythleit." Sir Bernardo was man from whom Lonel had come to expect at least trace amounts of jocularity, but today, there was none to be found. "Is Mistress Kaswick here? There was an accident..."

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