In Which Cladelia's Children Are Named

November 19, 1188

"I... I believe the afterlife will be kind to her," Cladelia muttered, not sure what else she could say to comfort her betrothed. She had lost her own mother at the tender age of ten minutes, and while that was tragic in itself, the pain was much more tangible, much more scarring at twenty. Knowing how Arkon's mother's life had gone? It certainly didn't make things better. "She and your father won't be in the same place."

"No. They won't. Thank God." Arkon slouched further downward, rubbing at his temples. His hair was brown, like his father's, but that man's had never been so thick and lustrous. That texture came from his mother. "It's just... it's such a waste, you know? She didn't have enough time to heal. She could have been someone amazing if not for my father."

"Maybe she already was, in her own way. In spite of him." Sure, maybe Xetrica hadn't fought back. But she'd still survived, hadn't she? Didn't she get credit for that? She hadn't been obliged to fight back, or even to survive. To think otherwise shifted the blame to the wrong person. "I always thought she was lovely."

"She was." Arkon sighed. "You should have heard her last request from me. I believe it was largely for Grandmother's sake."

"Oh?"

In her last hours, Xetrica had asked for a private moment with each of the children, plus Cladelia and--both oddly and not--Rina's friend Severin. Of Cladelia, she'd simply asked to watch over Arkon, and not to name any of her sons Felron. Simple enough.

As for what she'd asked of Arkon, it wasn't surprising that it may have centered around Nearina. She'd been her primary caregiver since she'd fallen ill, after all--and perhaps Xetrica had sensed Nearina's guilt over Felron, wanted her to know that she didn't blame her.

"She wants me to be the last Tamrion Count of Tagrien. For a while, at least." He pulled himself upright, composed but not comfortable. "She wants our children to carry the Ysettra name."

Cladelia nodded. Tertius, the first Tamrion of that title, had been wonderful. Felron had smashed that legacy. Arkon would rebuild it before handing it back to the name to which it belonged. "So they will."

"Abrich Ysettra, Count of Tagrien." Tragic, how easily he'd chosen her father's name for their eldest son. "And his sisters, Xetrica and Cladelia. And Nearina. Our second son will be Severin, if Severin marries Rina.

"And our third will be Tertius."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Rina Is Less of a Stone

October 24, 1187

Sir Sidwein was a distant relation. His half-sister Imena was married to Rina's Uncle Mernolt. His own wife was first cousin to Rina's mother. If she went far back enough--and she didn't care to just now--he was some degree of cousin to her without factoring in marriage. But he wasn't so close that he was obliged to pretend he cared much about her father, and for that, she was relieved that he'd been the one sent.

It was an added bonus that he didn't seem to expect much of her either.

Sir Sidwein and Lady Celina had arrived the night before, staying at Veldora Keep. In the morning, he'd ridden to Tetran, and Rina and Arkon had shortly after received a summons from their grandmother. Uncle Garrett had already been told; he'd been and gone before they'd arrived. She supposed he'd gone to the university to tell Uncle Nythran and Pandora. None of them would be too shaken up about it.

She'd give Arkon credit for his half-hearted attempt.

"Does anyone have any idea as to who did it?"

"Not at the time of my departure, no--though the king will have to investigate." Have to. There was one more person who didn't give a damn. "In the mean time, you have been named Count of Tagrien. Your grandmother will act as regent until you complete your studies."

"I trust she'll do well."

Sir Sidwein nodded. He took his eyes off of Arkon for a second and shifted his gaze to Rina. He was far enough for the immediate family that he wouldn't have known her private business, even if he probably realized that Count Felron wouldn't have been much of a father, not even enough of one to be properly missed. Still, it might have been difficult to fathom--one grown child at least present enough to question, the other sitting there still and cold as a stone.

He didn't understand.

She hadn't felt like less of a stone in years.

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Severin Tells the Truth

March 6, 1187

Severin's roommates, unlike Severin himself, preferred to spend their Friday nights out and about. And for the most part, Severin had no complaints about this. Easier to study without the noise and distraction of other people, after all.

But Severin had studied. He'd finished his essay, and his readings... and the next's week's essays and readings. He didn't want to write any more. He didn't want to read any more. No--he just wanted to scream and thrash and flip off the world, because quite frankly, he was done with it.

More than anything, he wanted to see Rina.

Tomorrow, he'd ride out to Tetran and call at Sir Garrett's. Maybe he'd drop by on his mother after that, just to tell her how badly the outing she'd insisted on had gone. But he had to see Rina first. He wouldn't mention her brother, but he would tell her how much he missed her. How frustrated he was with not seeing her every day. How anyone who had a problem with that could drop dead for all he cared.

On the other side of the library door, a pair of footsteps made their way up the stairs. Severin bit his lip. He'd long given up on peace, but now so much for quiet too. "Just study in the sitting room, whoever you are."

"I don't live here."

He would have preferred one of his roommates. "Go to hell."

"Look, I apologized to Rina, all right?" Arkon shut the door behind him, head bowed. "I just went last weekend to see her. I had some words with Brother Cenhelm, and he shed a different light on things."

"She didn't mention that in the letter I got yesterday." Severin forced himself off of the couch, knuckles twitching under the weight of the rest of him. The lingering pain of the thrown punched was second only to the ache to throw another.

"She doesn't like to talk about any of it."

"Yes, I gathered that. She cried when I saw her. But I did see her, and she'll confirm it if you ask." That would remain to be seen. For now, though, Arkon took advantage of his lack of a guilty verdict and made for the empty table. "Sit with me a minute? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"I'm not sorry for hitting you, if that's what this is," Severin hissed as he took the seat at the head.

"No, I'll admit that I deserved that. And while I've grown up with certain traditions, I want it to be known that I shan't force my sister into any life she doesn't want." Pulling himself into his most countly posture, Arkon stared. Severin countered his own need to blink with a firm frown. "As her concerned brother, though, I can't help but notice how loyal you are to her."

"What of it?"

"Well, I wonder if--assuming she's on board with the idea--you might be interested in marrying her."

...Eh? Severin's legs shot arrow-straight, pushing his chair back toward the shelves behind him. "Are you mad?"

"Look, I get that you're from a big family and you probably want a lot of children, but hear me out--"

"Children? God, no. I want children like I want an axe in my skull." And Rina's brother's eyes were brimming like it was the most beautiful image to ever cross his mind. "Let's cut to the chase here. You're telling me that you don't think your sister can fetch anyone better than a steward's son on her own merit."

"What? I didn't say that!" He'd come close enough. But what noble worth his salt didn't know how to backtrack? "It's just that, when you grow up in our world, children are very important. We have titles and lands to consider, and what happens to those titles and lands when we die. I suppose there would be second and third and onward sons more than willing to marry her, but as my father's only daughter, everyone will wonder why she didn't wed a first son. I know this sounds insane, but I think it would be better in the long run if she were to run off with a commoner and we could let the scandal run its course without any public speculation of her desirability."

"You're right. That does sound insane." Severin pursed his lips and blew a rogue strand of hair out of his face. The damn thing fell right back, as usual. "Besides, I'm sure she could find herself a much better commoner than me."

"That sounds like something only someone who really cared about my sister would say."

"That is irrelevant." He scuffed his boot against the floor. An old hand-me-down pair of Hamrick's, who was shorter than Severin now but still had bigger feet. A couple more harmless swipes and the leather could wear clean through.

"All that matters is that it's true."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Alina Is Years Away

March 6, 1187

"So you actually got your brother to leave his residence!" Leina shot Sev a wink as he grudgingly seated himself. In truth, their mother had threatened to reduce Severin's living allowance if he didn't go out and socialize at least once a term, but as much as Alina loved her brother, Severin could be embarrassing enough without everyone knowing that little detail. So, she wasn't about to make it common knowledge. "Pandora owes me five coppers."

"Then at least somebody benefits from this." Severin drummed his fingers against the table, no doubt trying to determine the minimum amount of time to constitute an outing. His agitation got a pout out of Leina; despite her increased flirtations with Adwyn Wythleit, she'd always had an inexplicable attraction to Alina's grouchy brother, who probably had no idea and and even less interest. "Why did we have to get here so early?"

"And here I thought Alina was kidding when she'd said you'd never been here before!" Oh Leina, with her far-too-optimistic misunderstanding of just how antisocial Severin was. But objectively, Alina would admit that it wasn't a bad guess. Everyone else on campus frequented Artan and Maddie's inn, so why should any uninformed party just assume her brother to be any different? "It's Friday night, silly. Show up too late, and good luck finding a free stool, much less a table."

Severin's eyes swept the otherwise empty room, unconvinced. "I think we're all right."

"Just wait a half hour," Alina promised--or, given who she was speaking to, 'sentenced'. "As soon as the next person gets here, we should probably order drinks. Poor Artan's bound to be swamped once the crowd pours in."

"Crowd? God. I knew you couldn't have been serious when you said this would be fun." Face scrunched in obvious pleasure, Severin's right hand took to rubbing his left arm in an anxious habit, the seam of the sleeve all the more obvious. That was what he got for buying the cheapest clothes he could find that weren't outright falling apart. "Whatever. Who are we waiting for?"

"Oh, most of the girls in our dorm, plus their boyfriends. Just not Alina Indruion. We invited her, but she turned us down." Leina laughed. "Good thing she's planning on becoming a nun. Seventeen and she's already an old prude."

"Leina! That's mean. Not everyone is into boys and partying." To prove her point, she jerked her head over at Severin--and for once in their lives, he nodded in agreement. "Anyway, the it's the usual crowd: Pandora and Primus, Riona and Nythran, Meraleene and Conant, Cladelia and Arkon. And all of them are nobles--hell, Conant is a prince!--so try not to be too..." Too what? Aside from his excuses for not pursuing Rina, Severin had never cared about class distinctions, and who knew which quirk to blame there. "...you."

"And there's also Adwyn and Jothein," Leina added with a wink, leaving Alina to fight a blush in vain. "They're not nobles, but unless you want your sister and I to end up as old maids, you'd better be even nicer to them than you are to the others."

"If you think Adwyn Wythleit is your only chance at a ring on your finger, it may already be too late." Severin rolled his eyes. He did that so often Alina was half-astounded that they weren't permanently pointed at the inside of his head. "Besides, if we're getting to the only reason anyone who isn't kidding themselves gets married, you don't actually need to be married to have sex."

"I--I know that!" But clearly she didn't want to discuss it! At least Severin had had the tact not to bring up Leina's mother--though, one of his plus sides may have been that he saw no issue there. "But I want romance too!"

"Also independent of the prospect of marriage." Severin slumped over, bored with one of his least favorite topics. "But oh, joy--me and six couples. Did you actually want to see me, or am I just a chaperone? Because I'll tell you right now, I couldn't care less what any of you do with your genitals and I'm not going to pretend otherwise."

Much as Alina appreciated the sentiment (poorly phrased as it was), Leina shot her a pitying glance. "So much for the protective older brother, huh?"

"I'm only older by nineteen minutes. And excuse me if respecting my sister's sexual autonomy is such a grievous crime. All I ask is that I don't have to know about it."

"But don't your parents--"

"Have better things to worry about? Yes, I'm sure they do. My mother still has four kids and one on the way at home, and my father's trying to declare our house a sovereign nation again. They don't care if Alina and Jothein are fucking."

At the bar, Artan glanced over. Alina slouched. "Severin!"

"Oh, sorry. 'Making love'." Another eye roll. "God, why does everything have to be so damn--"

"Oh. I'm not the first one here."

Thank God. A new person would change the conversation--hopefully for the better. "Hello, Arkon."

"Alina. Leina." Arkon nodded to them both, but paused when Severin turned his head. Due to the demographics of the current student pool, the men's dormitories filled at a different rate than the women's; Severin and Arkon weren't far apart in age, but sophomore Arkon lived at the established Gemini House while freshman Severin was at the still-filling Leo House. If the two shared no classes and Severin never went out, then were would they have met?

"...I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

"Arkon, this is my twin brother, Severin. He's kind of a shut-in." She patted her brother on the shoulder and smirked. "Though, you might have heard about him from your sister. They're quite close."

"Oh. So, you're that Severin."

Severin stood, knuckles twitching into a fist. "And you're Rina's brother."

Alina too rose from her seat. Much as he annoyed her, there was no one on the planet Alina knew quite as well as she knew Severin, nor did she think anyone knew him better than she did. And knowing him like she did, she didn't think this was leading anywhere good. "Severin..."

"She did mention you."

"She mentioned you too."

Neither said anything more. But tense silence was rarely a symptom of peace, and this conversational halt was no exception.

"SEVERIN!"

There would come a day when Alina would gleefully gather her children about her and revel in their laughter as she recounted the time that their Uncle Severin had slugged the future Count of Tagrien across the jaw. But that day was years away, and those years would begin with months and months of anything but amusement.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Cladelia Aspires to Keep

February 2, 1187

"What did Brother Cenhelm have to say?" Cladelia asked as she cleared the last step. She hadn't been sure whether or not to expect Arkon after his meeting--she knew he had something to read for his Rhetoric and Composition class--but she'd just finished some research of her own when Pandora had knocked to inform her of his arrival. The floor masked the words and identities of the voices below, but not their actual presence, and she hadn't heard much of an exchange between the two; considering that Pandora was Arkon's aunt, and that the pair of them typically took to lengthy greetings, he must have had something urgent to discuss.

"I'm such an ass."

Cladelia frowned. Perhaps she came from a place of bias, being his betrothed and all, but she'd never observed particularly... ass-like behavior from Arkon, much to the relief of everyone who'd ever met his father. Then again, she wasn't so naive as to think him a saint. "I doubt Brother Cenhelm said that to your face."

"No. He just made me realize it." Sighing, Arkon pat down on the empty side of the bench. Cladelia took the hint and made her way over. "A while back, I... I paid my sister a visit."

"You never told me that."

"No. I told myself I didn't want to burden you with it. But really, I think I just knew deep down that my behavior was shameful." He slumped over, defeated--though by what, she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something, possibly, to do with his father. "Brother Cenhelm caught me up on some of what I've missed in class, and I needed to hear a lot of it. If only I'd heard it before I dropped in on Rina. It may be a tough life no matter what, but it's still Rina's life--and I tried to take control of it, for my own selfish purposes. I told myself it was for her own good, but it wasn't." He shook his head. "I'm no better than my father, using God to get what he wants."

"Don't say that." Cladelia reached for his hand and squeezed, perhaps a little harder than intended. Her father may have picked Arkon for her, but she'd learned to want to marry him. Had he been at all like his father, that wouldn't have been the case. "Never say that."

"It's true, though. At least where Rina's concerned."

"No. You didn't make her walk to another country when she'd barely recovered from a near-death illness." The details of that, luckily for Rina's sake, where not widely known. But Felron had not made himself popular with the other lords, to the say the least. Her father said that King Oswald and the Earl of Bandera spent most council meetings with their scrutinizing eyes on the man--and often stayed behind to talk amongst themselves, glaring at Felron on his way out. "And for the other thing, you've realized you were wrong--something your father could never do."

Again, Arkon sighed, but a little differently. Maybe a little hopefully. "No, he never could."

"And you will apologize to her, won't you?"

He nodded. "When I find the words, yes."

"Then you're nothing like your father." Cladelia inched over to the middle of the couch and rested her head on his shoulder. She earned an arm around her for her troubles. "Let's keep things that way, all right?"

A gentle thumb spun a lock of her hair about itself, then let it fall to the neckline of her gown. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Arkon Is Liberated

February 2, 1187

"Ah, Arkon." Brother Cenhelm smiled as he shut the office door, but his eyes were all disappointment. Arkon forced himself off of the bench, guilty. Brother Cenhelm was a good man, and probably not a bad teacher either. Had that not been the case, hating his classes would have been so much easier. "Good to see that you actually showed up."

He hated brother Cenhelm's classes so much that he may or may not have been in the habit of simply not going. "Yes, well... my betrothed thought you might drag the administration into this if I didn't."

"Your betrothed is a smart woman, though in truth, I'm not that mean. I'm not angry with you." Somehow, that made it all worse. "I don't get it, Arkon. I've spoken with your elective professors. You're smart. You work hard, and you get good grades. I realize that no student will enjoy every class, but I have to wonder: if you dislike Theology so much, then why are you majoring in it?"

He ought to have made more of an effort to hide it. But surely he wasn't the first in this position? "My father made me."

Brother Cenhelm frowned. "Your father?"

"Yes, uh... well, he wanted my sister to become a nun, but she refused. So, in order to get the family back in God's favor, he said I had to major in Theology, because I'm going to succeed his as count and it doesn't matter what I major in anyway."

He'd hoped not to have to explain any further, but Brother Cenhelm's brow had furrowed, confused. "Back in God's favor."

"Yes, he said it might not be comparable, so he might make my next brother major in Theology too to balance it out. I asked Rina if she'd reconsider, for her own good, but--"

"For her own good?" Brother Cenhelm shook his head. "Arkon, I know that my classes are more or less nap time for you, but have you not heard anything I've said about Saint Galahad in Interpretation of God?"

Saint Who? "Uh... I don't think so, no."

"Oh, Arkon." Brother Cenhelm shook his head, wild mane of hair flopping about in a most unmonk-like fashion. "I won't go into the circumstances of Saint Galahad's life because not all of the details are fully known, but Saint Galahad subscribed to the belief that God is inherently good. And an inherently good God, he wrote, does not wish His followers to promote suffering in His name."

"Suffering?" Arkon stepped back. That had to have been an exaggeration--surely? "Rina wouldn't suffer.

"Would she?"

"There's a reason we have novitiates, you know." Brother Cenhelm's hands flew to his hips. He was a kind man, but he was not a pushover--and while he might have been patient with Arkon's lack of focus in his classes, it was damn clear he wanted him to listen now. "Arkon, I chose this life for myself because I felt called to it. And I've enjoyed it. I'd make the same choice all over again. But it's a difficult life, and it's not for everyone--and, like Saint Galahad, I do not believe that the inherently good God I serve would want anyone forced into it against their will."

"So the family isn't out of God's favor?"

"No--though, if you don't mind me saying, your father might be." No, he didn't mind.

In fact... it was almost shameful how much he didn't. Shameful, and liberating. "I... think I should attend Interpretation of God this week."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Rina Yearns for Another Purpose

June 2, 1186

Rina's brother was now a sophomore at the university. He'd been in the country a whole year and hadn't called once. She wasn't sure why today had to be any different, or how it could have been a good sign. The occasional letter from her paternal grandmother aside, the immediate family in Dovia hadn't bothered to acknowledge her existence since she'd left--and with her father's sway over all of them, it was probably for the better.

But Arkon had never paid her much mind, the epitome of the aloof older brother. He tended to side with their father when the anger flared, but he never maintained that agreement when their father wasn't around, leading Rina to suspect it was more self-preservation than a genuine alliance. At the same time, he'd never cared enough to assert any true feelings privately, unless the only true feeling was apathy.

But today he'd shown up and told the steward to fetch her. It hadn't been good timing. She was in the tail end of her monthly and had spent the last several days in bed. Even today, she hadn't felt up to receiving company. But if Arkon was here, then it wasn't a social call.

"Brother."

"Sister." He stood. He'd grown taller since she'd seen him last. He hadn't had that beard back then either. "We need to talk."

"Why?"

"Because you're my sister. And I'm going to be count one day, and part of the responsibility of being head of a great house is protecting the family name." She could point out that technically, the head of House Tamrion was Lord Nythran. Felron would be head of the equivalent of their grandmother's dying House Ysettra, and possibly not before the two remaining Ysettras were gone. But it was a point she'd raised to her father one too many times and while she knew Arkon couldn't punish her directly, the memory was a harsh enough deterrent. "You have to take the veil."

If only she had the strength to fight her own battles. Had Nanalie or Garrett or Grandmother Renata been in the room--had Severin been in the room!--Arkon would have been massaging his ass outside the castle gates in less than a minute. But Rina couldn't make him leave. The best she could do was prove this a waste of time. "No."

"Look, I get that you don't want to go along with what Father wants, but if you think about it, it's your only option." He reached for her hand--probably for the first time ever. And he blinked when she recoiled. "Rina... you're not a virgin and you're no longer fertile."

"You think I'm not well aware of either of those facts?"

"No. I'm just stating them for the record. I can't count on ever being able to find you a suitable husband, and you know how people talk about maiden aunts."

Severin would have told him that said people could go fuck themselves, probably adding that no one else would do it for them. Rina was not so bold--but all the same, she had no desire to just sit back and take this. "Good thing I'm not a maiden, then."

"Don't get smart with me." Her brother sighed. He spoke more out of some tired old sense of duty than actual belief, but she couldn't make herself care about the distinction. "If you're not married, and you're not a nun, then people will start asking questions about you. Then, those questions will become questions about the family. Before you know it, we have a reputation for being pathetic and undesirable. Surely you don't want my future children--your nieces and nephews--to inherit such a house and the problems it brings."

"Don't talk to me about future children!" It was all she could manage, but it was enough. He didn't need to hear about the thirdborn son named Tertius that she would never have, nor did she care to speak of him. "I don't know how this hasn't occurred to you, but this is my life--not yours, not Father's, and not your children's. If you think I'm going to rot away in some stuffy old convent for the benefit of a so-called family that didn't do a damn thing to help me, then your head is emptier than my wreck of a womb!"

"Damn it, Rina, just listen! What else do you honestly expect to do with the rest of your life?" The side of his right hand slammed into the open palm of his left. "This is just as much for your benefit as it is for everyone else's. Taking the veil would give you a purpose!"

"No!" She yearned for a purpose more than anything, but not just any purpose. And--by what precious little she had left in the world--not that purpose. "I won't give my life to any god who just stood by while Father ruined it."

NEXT CHAPTER: