In Which Laveria Meets with Her In-Laws

November 17, 1198

"Well, it's about time you newlyweds pulled yourselves out of your cave and paid us a visit!" Laveria's aunt--now also her mother-in-law--waved her finger in mock-scolding. "I hope he's been doing his fair share of the housework."

"I think the maid's been doing both of our shares," Donnie muttered, earning him a raised brow from his mother. She'd never quite gotten used to having servants at her beck and call--and, even though it was only the maid and the cook at their good-sized-but-not-a-castle house, Laveria doubted she would either. "But I try to pick up after myself, at least?"

Laveria opted to help him out. "He knows better than to expect me to do it for him."

"Good." Her uncle--now also her father-in-law--smirked. "You're the one working in that house, after all. He gets to go out and about as a knight, but when your clients come to you and you've been cooped up there all day, I'm sure the last thing you want to do is clean your own cage."

"It's certainly not a cage--but no, I don't want to clean it."

"Ah, to think of how we'd live without the people who actually do enjoy cleaning! Or are willing to make a job of it, at least. I believe for most of us, those domestic chores fall into exactly that category: necessary, but unpleasant."

"Hence the word 'chores'," her aunt quipped with a wink. "In any case, it looked to be quite a nice house when we were there. The maid's managing well in spite of the two of you?"

Laveria nodded. Her Aunt Alsina had been the one to find the woman actually--and she could expect the nicest of Christmas presents Laveria could manage for several years yet. "She's a godsend. I don't know how she does it."

"She is, but it probably helps that I'm not around most days, and you take clients in the study." Donnie turned to her and winked. They had the same eyes--being cousins twice over would do that--but he somehow managed to do more with them. "And when we are both around, it's not as if we spend that much time outside of the bedroom."

Her in-laws shared a knowing, unsurprised glance. Laveria supposed she ought to have been embarrassed. But, that was the sort of thing one could expect, marrying a Kemorin.

And even if she herself didn't spring from the line of Old Lonriad... well, no one married a Kemorin if they didn't think they could keep up with them.

"That's a fair point."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Roddie Wants No One Else

November 24, 1194

"Roddie!" The youngest of Roddie's brothers--and the second to show up--stepped in for a hug. "How does it feel, knowing this is your last day of freedom?"

Roddie didn't have to turn around to know that Falidor was smirking from his seat on the couch. Donnie was not yet nineteen and involved in a not-yet-serious, not-yet-exclusive semi-courtship with their cousin Laveria. In his young and stupid mind, it was still natural--charming, even, or funny--to talk about marriage as if it were a lifelong prison sentence. It hadn't occurred to him just yet that a marriage to the right person at the right time and for the right reasons was precisely the opposite.

"Freedom from what? The knowledge that Riona and Isidro know for a fact that I've seen their daughter naked?" Even that seemed a stretch. Riona and Isidro weren't exceptionally strict parents, nor were they prone to self-delusion about such matters, and Alya had spent more than enough of her time off at Roddie's place unchaperoned that it would take a severe case of denial to think that all their shared hours had been spent fully clothed.

In any case, if they somehow thought that Alya and Roddie were still virgins, Alya's not-white dress would waste no time in correcting them. "Just sit down, you silly little ankle-biter. And you'd better take the desk chair; couches are for bridegrooms."

Rolling his eyes, Donnie did as he was told. Roddie returned to the couch, only half-sorry about not having to push Donnie off of it, and turned to Falidor. "So, what do you think is taking Searle and Lonriad so long? I know everyone else is meeting us at Seoth's later, but I thought all of us brothers were meeting up sooner."

"Beats me." Dismissive, Falidor waved a hand to the side. "I know Melria wants a baby, so maybe she and Searle are working on that."

Roddie cringed. He knew full well that his siblings were sexual beings, and for the most part, he was as used to the fact as he would ever get. But, there was a distinct ickiness about the thought of Searle and Melria. Or, really, Searle and anyone who wasn't his beloved, belated, worst-kept secret in the world. "I didn't need that mental image."

"Too bad." Falidor stuck out his tongue. "Meanwhile, Morgan's not nearly so fussed about babies, so maybe she and Lonriad are just doing it for fun."

"I didn't need that mental image either." Granted, his sister-in-law Morgan was not unattractive. "The Lonriad part of it, anyway."

"Facts of life, brother," Donnie insisted, as if he'd had a meaningful encounter in his life. "Best get over your squeamishness now, before they get here and we all head to the brothel."

Really? Roddie frowned. "That's what we're doing?"

"Of course! I managed to get Lonriad to agree, even though he said he's not about to be an active participant with his wife in the same country. Searle was good for it, though--and Falidor here needs to practice up a bit before his own last day of freedom."

Well... good for them, Roddie guessed. And good for Donnie, if that was what he wanted--which, he was eighteen, so of course it was.

But, it had been quite some time since Roddie had wanted anyone but Alya.

"I think I'll keep Lonriad company as a fellow non-participant. And maybe I'll keep an eye out on you lot too, just to make sure you tip well; any woman willing to endure any of you deserves ample compensation."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which CeeCee Keeps Her Voice Down

July 24, 1188

Just as CeeCee's father had said, she and Lyssa found Renata and the other squires at Cuthron and Eleara's house, and not one of them looked pleased to be here. Severin was slumped over on the couch, Donnie beside him with his arms crossed, muttering occasionally. Renata and Falidor stood, whispering about something--something serious, if CeeCee was close enough to make out their expressions. It wasn't much like any of them.

Nor had it been like her parents to make haste down to her Aunt Aerina's shop in the village, stopping on their way out of the castle only to send CeeCee and Lyssa to meet the others, and two messengers to tell Thetis to stay at Honora's house and Xeta and her younger children to stay at Lady Celina's. The others squires, her mother had said, would tell them what had happened. It would be important that they got everyone's side of the story. Sir Karlspan would give his at Aerina's, and the others would give theirs here, when they were up to talking about it.

It didn't take a genius to figure out, between the healer's involvement and the abrupt end of the training session, that someone had been injured--badly. If her brothers and Renata and Severin were here, then it had to have been Arkon.

But how? CeeCee didn't want to ask just yet. Lyssa, however, wouldn't. There were often perks to being the bolder of a pair, but this wasn't one of them. "What happened?"

Severin furrowed deeper into the couch and Donnie shook his head. Falidor and Renata traded worried glances as CeeCee and Lyssa stepped toward them. It was Falidor--not typically the bolder of that pair--who spoke first. "Arkon's horse went wild."

"His horse?" Arkon, as far as CeeCee knew, had been riding the same horse for years. And he'd always been so good with horses! "How?"

"It was a new horse. A stallion. One of the men at the stables was complaining about how he couldn't break it, so..." Her brother cringed. "Arkon said he'd give it a shot."

"It was horrible, CeeCee." Renata crossed her arms together and shuddered. Hardly a characteristic gesture of someone so fearless. "He was barely on the horse when it started bucking, and it flung him right into a post. Then it galloped around in a rage and--" She cast a wary look toward Severin, who'd taken to shaking. Her next words were whispered. "Trampled him. Thoroughly."

"So Sir Karlspan had the men cart him to Aunt Aerina's. He was still breathing when they left, but..." Falidor stopped. This too was probably for Severin's benefit.

CeeCee had seven brothers, six still living. Six was more brothers than many ever had, and even with brothers to spare, the thought of one of them having some freak accident was a nightmare even as a hypothetical.

Severin had only one brother.

So CeeCee kept her voice down too. "Do you think he'll--?"

Renata sighed. "I don't know."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Nora Notices the Noblewoman Things

November 18, 1176

"They certainly do play well together, don't they?" sighed Xeta as Lyssa walked Noah along the perimeter of the deck and CeeCee swapped his wife for one of the horses. "Lucky thing they're close in age, what with all these boys running about."

Atop Nora's lap, Donny squirmed. She ignored him and tried to look interested. "Mmm."

She liked Jadin's wife--she really did--but lately Xeta had been a bit... much. Little Lyssa had been two and a half before Xeta had managed to get pregnant again, which was apparently a ridiculous gap between babies--never mind the fact that there were three years between Nora's eldest two children and if anything it had been nice to have a bit of a break. Then again, maybe it was a noblewoman thing. Nora, after all, had been employed in those days. For women of Xeta's birth, maybe pregnancy was a means of passing the time.

It certainly was in Xeta's case. From the day she'd first suspected something amiss, all she could talk about was the possibility. Then Arydath had confirmed it. Then Lettie had gotten pregnant, then Nora herself. And now rumor had it that Asalaye had missed a couple courses as well. She would have thought all this pregnancy news would have been enough to make anyone tire of the subject, but apparently not Xeta.

"I hope yours is a girl, at least; girls are so much more fun. Mine though... well, Jadin's going to need an heir eventually, so surely it's better to have a boy sooner rather than later?"

"Yes, well... I guess it is what it is?" This was ridiculous. Xeta had always been a clever girl, but Nora doubted she realized what she'd just said. Jadin wouldn't technically "need" an heir until he was dead, which Nora knew Xeta wasn't wishing for any time soon. For that matter, Jadin would still be an heir himself until Severin was dead, which Nora herself wasn't wishing for any time soon--not when every precious minute they had to themselves somehow resulted in yet another child.

Then again, maybe that was another one of those noblewoman things she was now expected to understand but never would. Jothein wouldn't have cared if Nora had only born him girls, and of course Severin had three grown sons from Lady Alina. She'd never been expected to give anyone an heir; maybe it wasn't her place to roll her eyes at Xeta's musings.

But oh, how difficult Xeta made it! At least she was finally due to be confined any day now. "Anyway. You know how I mended up all of Lyssa's old clothes a few months ago? Well, turns out Leara and Rona made a whole new set for the new baby, so this one won't need the hand-me-downs. No sense wasting them, though; would you like them for yours?"

"Err... I guess?" Christ, why was she supposed to be thinking about baby clothes already? Her baby wouldn't be coming until April. It was November. Oh well--she supposed it was only a matter of time before it was Xeta in her place, going through the now-dull motions of Baby Number Nine, wanting nothing more than to scream at her glowing daughter-in-law that there was more to life than just sitting around being pregnant. For now, she supposed all she could do was change the subject. At least there was something important to discuss. "So. Severin and I went to visit Riona yesterday."

Xeta's head tilted. "Oh? Is she feeling better?"

"Much, thank God." Poor girl had slumped pale and shivering in Isidro's arms all through the night of the performance, or at least until he'd finally put his foot down and carried her off to one of Lorn's guest chambers. They'd had to borrow Leara's carriage for the ride home the next morning and a wet-nurse had been summoned for Shahira. Since then, Riona had barely been out of bed; every time she'd tried to get up, it was only a matter of minutes before she'd needed to lie down again. But she'd seemed a little stronger yesterday, a little more spirited, the color back in her face and the sparks back in her eyes. "Still. It's so strange, a perfectly healthy girl falling that ill that quickly."

Xeta smirked. "Maybe she's got another one on the way."

...

Hopeless. Just... hopeless.

"Speaking of babies, have you heard anything about Aldara yet, or--oh!"

At Nora's age, it was not an "Oh!" she'd never heard--especially not when she'd said it eight times herself. Xeta's face twisted into a pained mask as she clutched at her enormous belly and leaned forward in her seat, a suspicious stain on the couch cushion peeking out from beneath her.

So much for thinking it would be a week or so yet. "Oh."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Adonis Is Given the Preferred Verb

January 15, 1176

"Oh, swell," Severin muttered as Adonis closed the study door. "Now I have two of you to deal with."

Adonis raised an eyebrow. The phrase 'dealing with' did tend to carry a connotation of reluctance, which he doubted was the case with the baby--even if it might be the case with a tenant. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"This little squirt here." Fondly, Severin gave the baby a pat on the back. "This is my son, Donny. Three guesses as to what that's short for and the first two don't count."

"Well, I'll be damned." The stinging souvenir of the winter's wind melted away as Severin held out the boy for him to see. Of all the pleasant surprises he'd never thought he'd get; hell, even having his stepdaughter's son named for him had been a surprise, never mind his lord's.

"Figured I owed you, unless you named your youngest son after some beloved childhood pet of my same praenomen." He soothed the bewildered infant with a gentle bounce and smirked. "That and by this point, I'm pretty much out of names."

Heh. Even at Severin's rate, not quite--but sometimes, even lords liked to be teased back. "Oh, so I'm the last resort, am I? I was wondering why Falidor had beaten me."

"Falidor is both my brother-in-law and my son-in-law. I had to squeeze his name in there."

The baby cooed; if Adonis hadn't known better, he might have thought the boy amused. "Fair enough, but that doesn't explain Roderick."

"My grandfather of that name, perhaps?" Severin raised little Donny back to his shoulder and rolled his eyes. "Not that anyone seems to believe that. But oh well--what do you need?"

Back when he'd been living in Dovia, Adonis had had few interactions with the local lord--local knight, actually--but those rare occasions hadn't escaped his memory. The grizzled old bear had always used a different verb: What do you want? 'Need' was still a welcome relief; Adonis didn't like to think of himself as a man who bothered his rulers over trivial matters, and to him this certainly was not so. "It's my daughter?"

Severin frowned. "Asalaye?"

"Nanalie." What he would have given not to be here. He'd spent all morning rehearsing his request in front of Avine and Lyraina, but the words must have slipped off the horse on the ride over. He felt pathetic and unprepared, but he didn't have a choice. This was his little girl they were talking about. "Look, Severin... I know the duke occasionally does this, uh... service for his tenants where he'll maybe talk to an available woman and then look around for a suitable man who might be in need of a--"

"Yes, I'm aware of this folly of Lorn's." Severin needn't have spoken; the annoyed glint in his eye had been sharp enough to cut the tongue. "My God, what is it with all of you people? First everyone wants me to find spouses for my own children, and now you want me to find some for yours? Don't you think she could catch a man on her own if she cared to? They're not exactly the brightest of quarry."

Those accusing eyes were relentless. Adonis bit his lip. Perhaps it had been folly of him to expect Severin to understand--Severin with his hoard of bold, beautiful children who could have their pick of nobles and commoners and the Greek Pantheon alike. He might have been better suited asking around himself--but he was only a rancher, a lone man on the outskirts who knew most of his neighbors by sight alone. How could he be sure to pick the right man for his daughter? He was no lord; he was not necessarily respected enough to be owed a glimpse of true character. "She almost never leaves the house and the only men she knows are either married or courting one of her sisters. I love having her around, of course, but... well, I'm not going to be here forever. I just want to make sure she's provided for."

Severin sniffed "Women are not incapable of providing for themselves. You might recall that Nora was doing quite well for herself and her children before she made the silly mistake of marrying me--and my mother's fared well all her life except when she had a husband. Who's to say Nanalie needs to get married--or wants to?"

The emphasis on the verb--that old preferred word of a thegn of another lifetime--told him they were done talking. He must have seemed an ingrate to Severin, marching in the day after a little lordling had been named for him and demanding that Severin turn his back on everything he stood for. But for all Adonis respected his lord, Severin just didn't understand. Not every girl was a Raia or a Riona or even a Viridis; he couldn't comprehend the plight of the Nanalies of the world. "Sorry if I've upset you."

"Don't be. I know you have your daughter's best interests at heart." Severin gave his son a playful tap on the nose, then took him in both hands and locked eyes with the boy, making a ridiculous face that should have been incapable of a man who'd just spent the past few minutes watching wads of spit rain down on his principles. "I'll tell you what: if Nanalie comes to me and asks the same of her own accord, then I'll consider it."

Then it was a lost cause. Adonis shook his head. "She's too proud."

As the baby's giggles wound down, Severin looked up. If expressions were language, his was not one Adonis could read. "Then I'd advise against telling her that you were here."

NEXT CHAPTER: