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August 1, 1190
"You don't think the braids are too juvenile, do you?" Cladelia fidgeted with the front lock of her hair yet again. It was half a miracle the lilies tucked inside had held.
"No, they look fine." Rina forced herself to smile. She didn't think she'd been Cladelia's first choice to help her dress, but of Cladelia's two old-enough half-sisters, Renata was in Naroni and Maelle had been barred by her mother on the technicality that she hadn't bled yet. That must have left the future sister-in-law as the first line of backup. "You look fine."
"You're sure?"
"For the hundredth time, yes!" She gagged out a laugh, if only to make up for Cladelia's sullen stepmother seated at the desk. Lady Odette could scarcely be bothered to give the time of day to her own daughters, never mind her husband's first wife's. "You're beautiful."
Cladelia blushed. "Well... thank you."
Of course, Lady Odette only sniffed. "It is immodest to agree, Cladelia."
"It's her wedding day. Everyone else will be admiring her, so why shouldn't she join in?"
"I suppose one might expect such sentiments from a girl who agreed to marry a steward's son." Not that girls had never married far lower to get away from parents like that. Much to Rina's relief, Lady Odette rose and made for the door. "Cladelia, I'm going to find your father. No doubt he's about to walk you down the aisle with his hair in disarray. You're welcome."
Cladelia, tactful as ever, waited until her stepmother had shut the door behind her. "If what I'm thankful for is that you're leaving, yes."
"Never mind that you no longer have to live with her," Rina added. "There's not much worse than a lousy parent."
"And I'm sorry you would know that so well." Cladelia hugged her--not something they'd done before. But, Rina supposed sisters-in-law did things like hugging on occasion. "Arkon and I will be in Naroni for your wedding, all right? We promise."
"It won't be until some time next fall. You might--" Did she want to say it? Would it hurt too much? "--have a baby by then."
A bit of a sting, yes--but not the searing pain she'd braced herself for.
"We'll worry about that then." Cladelia grinned--just in time for someone else to come knocking on the door. Someone who was definitely not Lady Odette.
"Severin?"
"Oooh, your betrothed!" Her sister-in-law just managed to keep from clapping. "Come on in."
He did. Woe behold those who disobeyed a bride on her wedding day, after all. "Rina. Cladelia. You both look lovely."
"No need to state the obvious," Rina insisted with a smirk. Perhaps that baby comment had emboldened her somewhat.
"But it's appreciated nonetheless." Cladelia flipped one of her braids, finally satisfied. "Did you two want a moment alone?"
"Would that be all right?"
"As long you don't have sex on my marital bed."
"We'll try not to."
"You'd better." Cladelia winked, then slipped past Severin and into the corridor. He shut the door once she was out of view, then stepped forward and took Rina by the hands.
"How are you holding up?"
"Better than I thought I would, actually." She squeezed his fingers. "Thanks again for coming with me."
"Any time."
"I'll make it up to you one day."
"You never have to make it up to me." He took her in his arms and dipped her with a kiss. "You make my world every day."
How corny. And how unlike him.
But he was sweet for trying.
"We did say we wouldn't have sex on Cladelia's marital bed."
"How about in the study where you father died?"
Sweet indeed. "You know just what to say to a girl."
NEXT CHAPTER:
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:
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:
