In Which Celina Is Promised an Eternity

February 3, 1193

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes." How Ovrean could smile like that after weeks of fevers and coughing fits, Celina couldn't guess. "God, you're as lovely as the day I married you."

Celina tried to return the grin, but couldn't quite manage it. They were both getting up in years--she knew that. Many of the people they'd grown up with were gone. Ovrean himself had more siblings buried than he did living. Celina had to concede that, objectively, sixty-five was not a short life.

But Ovrean still had so much to live for! Two new grandchildren on the way. Their youngest son, betrothed. One daughter to start at the university in April, and another who was still at home and needed a father.

But who didn't still have so much to live for? That was the fairness of death: the sheer unfairness of it.

"Sit with me, my love?"

She nodded. At least she could sit with him. She'd been denied that chance with Dalston.

"Are you sure you don't think you can hold on just a few more months?" Not a question he wanted to hear--but it was the only way she could make her mouth move as she joined him on the bed.

"No. My lungs are failing, and my heart is weak. I believe I have some time with you, then enough to bid farewell to the children. With most of my siblings gone already, I will count myself lucky to have even that."

Celina sighed. "I wish I could give you the comfort and optimism you deserve."

"I don't need comfort. All I need from you is for you to live a long and happy life." With a shaking hand, he took her by the shoulder and shuffled nearer. "Our children and grandchildren will need you for as long as they can have you."

"But you--"

"Don't worry about me." He turned to kiss her on the cheek. "After what will hopefully be many years here, you and I will have an eternity."

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