In Which Riona Is Justified

June 13, 1188

"Grandmama!"

Riona looked up from her bed and returned the sunny smile in front of her. Arkon was her great-grandson--her daughter Renata's grandson, through her daughter Riona--but 'Great-grandmother' had always been such a mouthful, so 'Grandmama' did the trick for most of her children's children's children. In particular, Riona enjoyed hearing it from Arkon's lips. She loved... well, most of her descendents. But of this generation, Arkon was a particular favorite, though she wouldn't dream of telling any of the others. She wasn't quite sure why, but at the same time, he'd never done anything that ought to have eliminated him as a favorite. Her husband's preference for Koradril's Danthia was infinitely more baffling.

But she wouldn't waste any more thoughts in her last days on that dreadful young woman than she had to. Arkon was here, his bright grin a welcome contrast from the somber faces she'd grown used to seeing over the past while. He was plenty old enough to understand that her remaining hours had likely dwindled into double digits, but he had an innate wisdom about him that steered him more toward enjoying the time that was left than dreading the end. Riona, never having been so attuned to life's dilemmas herself, appreciated it. "Ah, my boy! I was hoping I'd see you today."

"Might I sit with you a while?"

"I'd enjoy that very much."

Arkon stepped around the foot of the bed, through the narrow gap between the footboard and that garish canopy Laralita had once insisted on gifting them. Ten might have been a little old for cuddles with one's great-grandmother, but it was sweet of Arkon to make one last exception for her. "That's what I told Grandpapa you'd say! He said I shouldn't pester you."

"Nonsense! When you go, you'll have to tell your grandpapa that the surest way to pester me these days is to chase away my guests." Well, for old Searle, she supposed it was technically the second surest. At least it had been a while since the first had been an issue. She may have been the one dying, but at least the various parts of her body were all shutting down at the same rate.

"I will. But first I want to tell you something." Arkon seated himself on the side of her bed, drumming on the mattress with a moment's pause. "Well... ask you something, I mean."

"I do prefer being asked to being told." Riona winked. Precious few men were willing to ask a woman anything. It was a delight to think that her favorite great-grandson was one of them.

"All right. Well..." He slung his legs onto the bed, lips pursed as he fumbled for the right words. "I hope it will be a long time before this happens, but you know that I'm going to be Baron of Rexus after my father, right?"

"I'm familiar with the concept." The poor boy flinched; Riona smirked to reassure him. "What about it?"

"Well, I'm a Tamrion. And my father's a Tamrion, and same with my grandfather. But my grandmother was a Callcevern, like you."

"She was. Her father was my brother." And not that she'd had anything against Secundus, but such a pity that the laws at the time had bestowed the barony to the son-in-law rather than the daughter when Marsden had passed! "A pity she didn't live to see you grow up. Tivalia was a lovely woman. She would have a adored you."

And a pity that old Riona would end up being the last Callcevern rather than her sweet niece.

"So Rexus is Callcevern territory. But it's ruled by Tamrions now, and I don't think my father or grandfather ever felt quite right about that. And I don't either." His mouth made an awkward transition from frown to grin. "So, I talked to my parents, and they said that if it was all right with you..."

"I could maybe give my children the Callcevern name?"

She may not have quite been able to place it before. Now, though, Riona had quite the justification in her preference for young Arkon.

Quite the justification indeed. "I would be honored."

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