In Which Riona Is Home

December 24, 1175

"Riona!"

Jadin's arms were around her before she'd even fully registered his voice. She'd never been particularly close to her eldest brother--not closer than she was to any of her other siblings, at any rate--so it was a bit of a shock to think he might have missed her. Then again, maybe it wasn't such a stretch. She'd missed him too. "Jadin! Why the hell are you still up?"

"The guard woke me, stupid; Father's had a long day, so I told the staff to come to me instead if anything needed attention." He tapped her on the nose and grinned like some half-drunk doofus. He hadn't changed a bit. "Of course, seeing as 'anything' turned out to be you, he'll probably have me cleaning the stables tomorrow."

"And the hard work might do you good," sighed Jadin's wife as she emerged from the corridor. "Riona."

"Xeta."

Xeta's eyes flitted to Riona's stomach, but she didn't comment, opting instead for a polite smile. At least Jadin seemed to have missed that little detail. "Good to see you back."

"Brought home some friends, I see." Jadin gave Riona a quick pat on the arm, then peered over her head at her two silent companions. Alya was probably asleep; it must have been more complicated for Isidro. "You're Sir Domingo's son, right?"

Riona glanced back over her shoulder and took a quick breath. Grim, Isidro nodded. "And you're Lord Severin's."

"Mm-hmm." Satisfied, Jadin's gaze fell to Alya. "And who is--?"

"Riona!"

A dark-haired blur bolted into her, bouncing in place as a pair of skinny arms wrapped themselves around her neck. Was this... her little brother? How was that possible? When she'd left, she'd still been able to hold him; she didn't even want to try to life him now. "Roddie! You've gotten big!"

"And you've gotten fat!" The observation earned him a cuff to the back of the head from Jadin. Apologetic, Roddie rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Don't worry. Mama got fat too--fatter than you did."

In spite of Jadin's threatening glare, Riona snickered. Even Isidro had to chuckle. "Nice to meet you, Roddie."

Roddie paid Isidro a quick glance, then turned back to Riona, brown eyes wide as the day they'd opened. "Who's he? How'd he get that neat scar? Can I have one? Also, why did you bring home a baby? Is she yours? Can I teach her how to spit? Please, please, please?"

Behind him, Riona's eldest stepsister rolled her eyes. "Christ, Roddie, I already regret letting you get up. Anyway, welcome back."

"Thanks, Aldara." Riona ruffled Roddie's hair, then met Aldara with a smile. "It's good to be back."

"Oy! Losers! Thanks for not waking the rest of us!"

It was Lonriad, Vera at his side and the other three stepsiblings in tow. Riona had to roll her eyes. "So much for hoping you might have moved out by now."

Vera and Cuthron exchanged a smirk. Jadin laughed into his sleeve as he brushed past Riona to tend the fire. Lonriad glowered. "Nice to see you too."

Idiot. Still... "Get over here."

He did as he was told, Vera at his heels. Riona landed a half-assed punch on his shoulder, then embraced them each in turn. "I missed all you crazy people."

"Wait--you were gone?"

Roddie jumped for a chance to swat Lonriad, but Vera beat him to it. "Quit fooling around! You'll wake Father and Nora."

"No need."

Riona's tongue rolled to the back of her mouth and dropped to her stomach. She'd been so happy to see her siblings again that she'd--somehow--forgotten her dread of the inevitable reunion with her father.

Well, it had just come screaming back to her.

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Searle Meets the New Addition to the Madhouse

August 16, 1173

"Who's the cutest baby in the world?" Searle cooed as he landed a tickle on the stomach of his freckly, blue-eyed niece. "Is Lyssa the cutest baby in the world? Yes she is! Yes she is!"

Giggling, Lyssa turned away and looked up instead at her doting father. Jadin smirked. "My little girl is so modest."

From the couch, Riona snorted. "How the hell do you have a modest baby?"

"Her mother's a lady, that's how!" Jadin snapped back at her. "Unlike somebody I know. Good luck ever getting married, Ri."

"Oh, because modesty is supposed to land me someone like you? In that case, no thanks."

It had only been a matter of time before this started up again. Searle grimaced, sharing an annoyed glance with the baby. Your papa and auntie are idiots, you know? He got the sense that she did, too.

Jadin lifted his eyes from his daughter just long enough to send a glare Riona's way. "Well, if you can't be modest, then could you at least be quiet? Aldara isn't running her mouth off, in case you haven't noticed."

Their stepsister shuffled in her seat, unamused--and Searle didn't even have to look at her to know that. If ever was a girl with a dagger-like gaze, it was Aldara. "If I seem quiet, it's just because I'm trying to figure out why your tiny brain needs such a giant head to go with it. And why do you care if we're quiet and modest, anyway? It wouldn't be a problem if we were men, would it?"

And it figured that this would be starting up too.

"It's different with men, all right?"

"Oh really? How so?"

"It just is."

"It just is? That's your argument? My God, you're even dumber than--"

"Hello, chowderheads!"

She was cut off by the arrival of Lonriad, obnoxious and insufferable as always, but more than welcome as far as Searle was concerned. He loved his siblings--all of them--but they did make the task difficult, especially with their reoccurring feuds. At least Lonriad was just bothersome for the sake of being bothersome.

"Hello yourself, beetlebrain," muttered Riona under her breath.

Bouncing Lyssa up and down in his hands, Jadin nodded toward their younger brother. "Where the hell have you been, brat?"

Lonriad shrugged and closed the door behind him. "I don't know, but I can tell you where I haven't been. I haven't been egging houses, that's for sure--and especially not Cord's house."

"Awww, does someone's sweetheart have a sweetheart?" Searle teased, but the words were too close to home for his full enjoyment. Sparron had scarcely said a word to him since Lyssa's birth, and now he'd sent his own father off on some fool's errand to find him a wife. He should have thought this through. He'd been so sure he knew what he wanted, but now... well, there was nothing worse than a limbo. Even Sparron at his worst was better than no Sparron at all, and who needed a wife when he had a father who loved him--regardless of everything?

But even in the uncertainty, there was one thing he could count on--namely, that his idiot siblings wouldn't know one of his moods if it waltzed in front of them wearing one of the baroness's magnificent corsets.

"Maybe--but not me. I don't have a sweetheart." Lonriad clasped his hands together and nodded, grinning widely all the while. He always had been a terrible liar. "But no matter. I just thought I'd better let you know that Father's back."

The disarray of Searle's universe snapped back into some semblance of order. For the first time in a week, the smile on his face was more than a charade. But how had his father returned so quickly? This didn't make any sense. "Already?"

"Uh-huh." His little brother's stupid smirk widened. "And guess what he brought back with him?"

Already? "You don't mean..."

Lonriad nodded. "She's in the front with everyone else. Cuthron's putting the moves on her, by the way; you might want to get in there."

He winked, then turned around and pulled open the door, stepping out with Jadin at his heels and the girls close behind. Searle hung back aways--partly to shut the door, partly to avoid the mutterings of "I still can't believe he asked for a betrothal" and "I still can't believe Father actually agreed to it" and "I still can't believe you idiots are my family". His siblings were good about being supportive when they knew he could hear them, but they didn't understand--not that he wanted them to. Understanding would require knowing.

"Ah, there you kids are!" Sure enough, it was his father's voice he heard as he filed into the front room behind the others. "Now all of my babies are here. All eight thousand of them. Oh, sorry--" As Searle filed in after Jadin, his father's hand fluttered toward his stepmother's stomach "--eight thousand and one."

By the corner bookshelf, Falidor hoisted little Alina to his shoulder and looked across the room, his eyes landing squarely on a redhead with her back turned toward the newcomers. "Eight thousand and two."

Searle's heart shot upwards and wedged itself in his throat. Was this... her? He would have called out to her if it hadn't been for that rapid pulse beating against his vocal cords. All he could do was jerk the corners of his mouth upwards on the off-chance she turned around.

"She has a nice ass," Jadin whispered back to him, sending a wary glance his wife's way as he spoke. After a quick look, Searle couldn't argue with him. He'd forgotten how pleasant the female form could be; he'd been so devoted to Sparron for so long that he'd hardly allowed himself to look and felt guilty whenever he did. But yes... yes, she did have a nice...

"Anyway, I hope you children didn't get into too much mischief while I was gone." Searle's father pried his free hand from Nora's midsection and waved an accusing finger toward Riona. "Your stepmother has already informed me of the bakery incident, young lady."

Annoyed, Riona turned away from him, her eyes rolling so far back that all Searle could see were whites and vessels. Jadin snorted. "What is this 'bakery incident'?"

Their father shook his head. "I'll let your sister answer that at her own convenience. Lettie, my apologies once more for bringing you back to this madhouse."

The redhead laughed--clearly, heartily, not trying to be charming be achieving it nonetheless. It was a relief to hear the sound. Sparron never laughed if he could help it. "No worries, Uncle Severin. Besides, you promised me my own castle after a few months, and damned if I'm going to let you back out of that deal."

Raia and Lonriad shared an appreciative glance. Their father pulled his wife a little nearer and chuckled.

"Lettie, might I remind you that the castle is only an accessory?" He laced his arm under Nora's knees and hoisted her onto his lap, grinning to himself all the while. "It and my son are something of a package deal."

"Yes, and at least he sounds agreeable--not to mention, interesting."

Interesting? Searle gulped. Surely he hadn't told her...

"Of course, he might need to prove it by speaking up at some point." She placed her hand on Searle's stepbrother's head, turning his gaze away from her breasts; if not even a kid who was still in his 'girls are icky' phase was immune to them, then they must have been impressive. "You said he was a lot of things, but you never mentioned him being shy."

At the side of the room, Raia caught Searle's eye and nodded her head toward the newcomer, Alina following suit from Falidor's arms. Awkward, Searle looked toward his father, who winked. "Well? Stop standing there like a piece of furniture and go talk to her."

Transferring his daughter to a one-arm hold, Jadin reached back and grabbed Searle by the shoulder, pulling him forward. Searle brushed off his hand and shuffled toward the girl, who turned to face him. She wasn't quite pretty--freckly and strong-jawed and hard-eyed--but there was an undeniable something about her that robbed him of any desire to look away. Only one other person had ever captivated him so. "Uh... hello."

"Hello yourself." She tilted her head to the side, all the room's light catching her eyes at the most rapturous of angles. She had the same blue eyes as Xeta, but it was unbelievable just how different they looked on her. "I take it you're Searle?"

He nodded. A hint of a smile on her face, she thrust out her hand and held it toward his mouth, not letting it drop until he'd left it good and kissed. "I'm Lettie. You might remember me from the royal wedding."

He did now. She was his cousin, his Aunt Renata's daughter, sister to the current squire and the former squire and Lorn's squire as well. Her brothers probably didn't know her all that well, but he guessed they would get the chance to do so now. At least... as long as she...

Without warning, she took him by the hand and dragged him toward the door to his father's study. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Fenrick Makes the Most of His Childhood

January 27, 1165

"All right, settle down, you two," scolded Fenrick's father from the couch. "Don't you go messing up your Aunt Nora's sitting room."

Beside him, Aunt Nora sniffed dismissively. "What is there to mess up, Falidor? My kids run around in here all the time; it's not a problem."

Fenrick's father dragged the foot of his boot along the grain of the floorboards. "Mine are older, though; they should know better. Besides, Aldara's being a perfect angel here and Cuthron's upstairs with Rifden. Seriously, Fenrick, Riala--please, just stop running around!"

Fenrick exchanged a quick glance with his sister, then rolled his eyes. This was the great thing about having a twin; whenever something concerning your age came up, you had an ally, even if she was taller than you. "But Papa, we're only making the most of what's left of our childhood."

Smiling, Riala nodded in agreement. "You see, Papa, we're seven now, and seven is close to ten, and ten is close to sixteen. Weren't you married at sixteen, Papa?"

A vein in their father's temple throbbed, which was rather out of the ordinary; ordinarily, it only emerged when he was speaking with their mother. "Riala..."

"And at seventeen, you were a father!" piped up Fenrick. "That means it won't be long before you're a grandfather!"

Defeated, his father sunk further into the couch, nearly falling onto Aldara. "Fenrick, what have I told you about using the G word?"

Fenrick cackled as he tagged Riala and dashed toward the kitchen. "It works!"

His father might have protested, but he found he was too distracted by the swishing of his Aunt Alsina's skirts as she trudged down the staircase, emerging from the upper level. Fenrick stopped; there was something odd about the way she moved. Aunt Alsina was usually a carefree, energetic girl who pranced around like a show pony, climbing fences and sliding down banisters. Her dull, lifeless tread was unsettling--there was something wrong.

Riala seemed to sense it too. "Aunt Alsina? Are you all right?"

Her concern was disregarded--perhaps even unnoticed. Brushing past the children, the older girl proceeded to her sister, not even bothering to greet her brother; in fact, it seemed to Fenrick that she was reluctant to even look at him. "Nora?"

Fenrick's older aunt frowned. "Alsina? Is something wrong?"

Alsina swallowed. It occurred to Fenrick that she was almost sixteen; suddenly, that age didn't seem so old anymore. "I need to tell you something... and I'd rather we were alone."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Nora Finds Them Waiting

July 12, 1164

"Mama's home!" exclaimed Cuthron as he tottered toward Nora and leapt eagerly into her arms.

"Mama's home," she repeated, hoisting her son to her shoulder, "and you should be in bed. What are you doing up?"

The boy's sister waved from the couch, a matter-of-face grin on her face. "Papa said we could wait up for you."

Nora raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to her husband, who occupied himself with the fire in the hearth. "Oh really? Now why on earth would Papa say something like that?"

Sighing, Jothein gave the fire a few last prods before setting the poker back into place. "Because their Auntie Alsina has no tact, that's why--got them all worked up about everything that's been happening in the forests lately, she did."

That did sound like something her thoughtless sister would do. Nora scowled. "Remind me to smack that girl the next time I see her. You know, I almost wish Aldhein would indulge that silly crush of hers, just so she would have an outlet for her antics who happens to be over the age of five and a half."

"Well, I'll probably be seeing him tomorrow--I'll tell him you're eager to have him for a brother-in-law."

Her unchanged vision was the only indication that her bulging eyes had not popped straight from their sockets. "Hey! I didn't say that!"

Jothein merely chuckled, ignoring her annoyed glare. Shaking her head, Nora turned to their daughter. "Bedtime, sweetheart."

Aldara didn't so much as blink, which struck Nora as unusual; she was normally a rather fidgety child. "Mama... you didn't ride home by yourself, did you?"

What had Alsina said to them? She would have to ask Jothein for the specifics once the children were asleep. "I rode home with Uncle Falidor, of course, so you know I wasn't on my own for very long--you can see his house from ours, remember?"

The five-year-old didn't seem convinced. "You didn't go through any forests?"

Nora shook her head. Then, with a grin, she teased, "Even if we did, you know I'm scarier than anything in the forests."

"Amen to that," Jothein laughed as stepped toward her, "but don't worry, my babies--Mama knows not to go riding alone these days."

Still, Cuthron buried his face in Nora's hair, as though afraid she might suddenly disappear. "Mama."

"Mama's here," she assured him with a smile, "Mama's here, and you're getting to big to hold, you know that? My back's starting to hurt."

Giggling, her son wrapped his arms around her neck, then began to bounce squeamishly. "Down!"

Nora had to laugh. "First you want hugs, now you want space. You're a little young yet for mood swings, son."

"But he's getting older every day," mused Jothein as Nora set him on the ground.

"You really think so, Aristotle?"

He casually flicked a lock of her hair over her shoulder. "You and your sister are two of a kind."

"I should hope not," she protested, shuddering. "Not that I imagine either of us is as docile and ladylike as our dear mother would have hoped."

"I imagine your brothers more than compensate for the two of you in docility."

A fact she could not argue, she mused as Jothein gently ran the side of his hand down her face. "It's true that there is no gentler woman in all the land than Falidor."

"And yet, I hope you did the ungentlemanly thing and made him see you to the door of your house," Jothein mused.

Nora frowned. "I most certainly did not; I'll have you know that I was a perfect gentleman, and personally saw him to his door. I do know my brother, and he needs my protection more than I need his."

Shaking his head, her husband planted a quick kiss upon her forehead. "Darling, please--for my own peace of mind. Let him see you to the door from now on, all right?"

Indignant, she dug the toe of her shoe into the skirt of her dress. "Jothein..."

"Please," he echoed firmly, a seriousness in his eyes that she had only ever seen in the event of a death. "We need you."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Laralita Experiences the Height of Flattery

January 5, 1159

"...and that should just about do it," declared the seamstress with a smile as she stepped back and observed her work. "Now, turn around for me please, my lady?"

As best she could with her hefty baby inside her, Laralita slowly twirled so that Ivilia could examine the dress from all angles. It was a shame, really, that the dress would only fit her in all her pregnant glory--it really was the sort of dress she wouldn't have minded wearing more often.

"Lovely. My lady, you are absolutely stunning."

Laralita smiled coyly--as much as she took a guilty pleasure in flattery, she wasn't sure she could trust the opinion of a mere seamstress. "Why thank you, Ivilia. Alina, do you have any words?"

Her sister exchanged a quick glance with her maid, then nodded. "You look beautiful, Laralita. But it does seem a shame that you will only be able to wear it until your baby comes, doesn't it? Too bad this will be your last child."

Alarmed, Laralita studied the dress once more and sighed--a pity, really. "I know; a dress like this makes having more children worthwhile."

"Of course. That is why we have children," muttered Nora, glancing down at her baby girl. "To fit into dresses."

Laralita wasn't sure she liked Alina's maid; not only was she most assuredly sleeping with Severin, but she also had a rather annoying tendency to state the obvious. "Oh, indeed!"

The girl sighed--she did that a lot too.

"Oh, but at least you will look nice for the king tonight!" Alina blurted excitedly. Laralita blinked; her sister's eyes promptly bulged as she quickly covered her mouth.

"The king?" she repeated, beaming widely about the room. "That is this guest who will be dining with us tonight? King Roderick himself?"

Ashamed, Alina closed her eyes and exhaled. "I'm sorry, Laralita. It was supposed to be a surprise, but... I just let it slip out, didn't I? I do hope you'll forgive me."

"Sister, just the fact that you've arranged for me to see the king is enough," Laralita assured her with a grin.

Nora and Ivilia shared a quick smile--doubtlessly, some peasant joke that was far beneath Laralita's notice.

Meanwhile, her sister bit her lip. "Well, actually, Laralita... the king wants to see you."

Well, that was news. Of course... she was the Countess of Bandera, as well as a daughter of the Count of Valcria. And it wasn't as if she had never actually met Roderick before--after all, he had been married to her husband's sister.

But still, to be in the willing company of a king! That, of course, was the height of flattery.

"What a wonderful man!" she swooned. "I was looking forward to dinner before, but now I am simply alight with anticipation!"

Alina sent a wink Nora's way--of course, Laralita had more important things on her mind. Dinner with a king!

NEXT CHAPTER: