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October 16, 1176
It was a little early to be turning in, but this had been the longest day of Cord's life and he wished it would just end already. His work was done and done again and every attempt to talk to Riala had been met with a silencing glare or her storming out of the room. Dinner had been an icy affair; they'd sat at opposite ends of the table, never saying a word, not even locking eyes. He'd tried a few times, but every time he'd looked up she'd been looking down, nudging her food with her fork but never eating it, finally leaving her plate on the floor for the dog and retiring before the sun had begun to set.
He wasn't sure if she was asleep. He thought he could see her eyes flickering, but it might have been wishful thinking. Knowing his luck, she'd sleep through the night while he spent most of it envying her that, and then he'd wake in an empty bed and this day would stretch to the next. Lord only knew how long that could go on.
How could he have been so stupid? He'd gotten her into this mess. She'd had even less say in the matter than he had, yet she'd never complained, not once. She'd tried to make the best of it and in a matter of minutes he'd ripped those efforts to shreds. And why? Some comments from his idiot drinking buddies? Men who had laughed at his misfortunes while Riala strained to hold him together?
And this was how he repaid her. He'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again.
And yet, he doubted he could go on without hearing her voice. "Riala?"
She shrunk away beneath the blankets, folding into herself as if to disappear. Maybe he should have gone to the spare room. He hoped she wouldn't get up and do that herself. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
She rolled onto her side and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes a glimpse of day in the middle of the night, a damp rawness to her face as if she'd been crying. Ah, who was he kidding? She had been. "I know you wouldn't do that."
Her lip quivered, but not to make way for any word. His guilt had been eating at him all day and now her silence was a death blow. "Riala? Riala, please say something. Anything..."
Butterfly lashes fluttered over the blue, but other than that she was still. He heard a swallowed sob lodge itself in her throat as her hesitant mouth eased open. "I'm pregnant."
Cord edged a little closer and draped his arm over her waist. It wasn't much--just a gesture, just an action, maybe just a bit of selfishness on his part, a need to feel the firmness of his child within her--but it was a start. He had a lot of atoning to do and he had to start somewhere.
NEXT CHAPTER:
October 16, 1176
So much for hoping a drink with the boys could ease the stress of the season's end. All Cord had wanted was to take a breather after finally getting the pigs settled for the winter, but no... no, his so-called "friends" hadn't granted him that luxury. Not when half the conversation centered around what wild things Cord must have been doing with his wife and the other half--the more enthusiastic half--was all about what wild things his friends had done with his wife. Like he hadn't even been in the room. Maybe in all the ecstasy of their carnal memories, they'd forgotten he was--at least, until he'd slugged Nedrir Corran across the jaw and stormed out.
And yet... well, it hadn't been all that long ago that he would have been laughing along, maybe even pitching a few jokes and anecdotes himself. He'd always felt a little bad about it--she'd always been his friend--but men talked about women like that. They always had, hadn't they? It didn't girls like that know it? Girls talked about girls like that too.
Still. He wished they'd stop now, or at least where Riala was concerned. Every reminder that she'd done such things with those men in the past was a worry that maybe--maybe, when he was off with his friends or she was out and about--she was doing something similar in the present.
"You're home early."
If she was entering through the front door, then no wonder the house had felt so empty. "I see you were out."
"Your horse lost a shoe. I had to take him to the blacksmith." The blacksmith. Now there was a man who'd always had a thing for her. A handsome man too, if the giggling of the local girls meant anything. "Anyway, I'm glad you're back. I wanted to talk to you about something."
She looked so sweet and serene, just standing there smiling at him. He wished his immediate thought wasn't that she wanted to discuss alternate sexual arrangements. "Actually, I should probably talk to you about something too."
"All right." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as he heaved himself off the couch. Had she thought it too loose? As if it had been ruffled earlier? "Cord, I--"
"Can we talk about my thing first?" A hurt, doe-like look flashed across her eyes, but she nodded. In an odd sort of way, he supposed he felt sorry for her--she was a nice girl--but now that he was wondering, he had to get to the bottom of it. "Look, Riala... how many men have you been with?"
Riala frowned, one eyebrow nudging skyward. "Does it matter?"
"A little bit, yes." Her pretty eyes widened. She couldn't believe what she was hearing and he couldn't believe that. She wasn't a stupid woman; she must have known what people said about her. "Look, I just... I don't know. I guess I just want a normal marriage at this point, and I want to be sure that you aren't about to--"
"To what?" Her eyes tensed to a slant so dangerous he felt foolish for thinking her fawn-like before. He'd always known she was a tigress deep down, but it was the first time he'd ever felt threatened. "Sleep around behind your back? Call on men in exchange for favors? Make you support children that weren't yours? How could you say that?"
She had a fawn's face but her scowl was practically draconian. The air from her voice might have been fire and he would have been none too shocked. He should have been more careful in his phrasing, perhaps. "Riala, please, I just... well, I know you weren't exactly an angel before we got married, and--"
"And you were?" Cord flinched. She might as well have kicked him in the groin. "At least I had nobody to hurt, Cord! You courted Asalaye for years, years while you spent spare change on prostitutes and came to me for a good roll in the sack every now and then. What would you be saying if you'd married her and she asked you what you just asked me? Wouldn't you have said the same thing? 'Does it matter?'"
Flustered, Cord struggled his way into a grimace. "...does it?"
"Yes Cord. Yes it fucking does!" The flames in her voice shot throughout her body, the aura about her an inferno he could never fan. He shouldn't have pressed the issue. He'd never felt so stupid, not even when he'd burned the old house down. Not even when he'd accidentally jilted both of Master Indruion's daughters. "Christ! A man sticks his cock somewhere and he might as well be trying on a pair of boots, but a woman tries to have a little fun and suddenly she's a whore for life, isn't she? Here I was thinking you were better than that. Fuck you, Cord--fuck you!"
A wad of spit landed on the toe of his boot. Her flare eyes scorched him one last time before she stormed up the stairs, an uncrossable wall of fire springing up on every step she cleared. Her shoes slammed against the floor of the upper level, pausing only long enough for her to shoot him one last jab. "Oh, and did you want to know how many men I've slept with since I married you? One. You!"
The furious steps resumed and the bedroom door banged shut with the force of a cannon. Silenced, Cord slumped back onto the couch. A pang in his gut told him he had a lot to think about.
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 17, 1176
"...and then before my wife can even get a guest list together, you go behind Nanalie's back and--"
"Sir, with all due respect, that's not how it happened!" But how had it happened? Even to Cord the details were a bit hazy. But if nothing else, he'd hoped that no one would think he'd planned for this; unfortunately, that may have been to much to ask.
Or at least from Asalaye and Nanalie's father.
"Oh really?" If he squinted, Cord could swear he saw two steady jets of smoke spouting from Master Indruion's nostrils. How was this snarling beast the same man who had always greeted him with a smile when he'd shown up at the house for a visit with Asalaye? Was it time playing this trick on him, or merely circumstance? "Then enlighten me. How did it happen?"
Maybe this was all just a nightmare. If it was--and by God, how he hoped it was!--then now would have been as good a time as any to wake.
"It was all just an honest mistake, sir. I just went to visit a friend and the next thing I know, her brother forces me to marry her."
Master Indruion raised an eyebrow. Maybe it had been too much to hope that he would by the abridged version of the story. "God damn it! If I want bullshit, I'll clean my barn. You've jilted both of my marriageable daughters and I'm not leaving without an explanation--the true explanation, or at least as true of one as a backstabbing little shit like you can give!"
Backstabbing. Of all the things he'd never been called before and hoped never to be called at all. He'd always tried to be a good man, and for the most part he'd succeeded. How was it that one stupid mistake could render his otherwise spotless past null and void? "All right, we may have been... sort of... not wearing clothes..."
"Oh, so that's what happened?" The man's finger met Cord's rib with all the force of a javelin, his once brown eyes red as all hell. It was a struggle not to shudder. Cord must have had a good three inches on Master Indruion and several pounds at that, but all of a sudden he was three years old again and not even knee-high--and this was not the kindly old friend of his father's who'd always been so good about letting the children play in his loft. "Neither of my girls ever put out for you, so you went to find yourself a little tramp who would? You idiot! If you just wanted sex, no one would have forced you to marry a whore from the brothel!"
"Sir--"
"You know what?" Master Indruion shot Cord another glare and stormed toward the door, a clap of thunder in each footstep. "I'm glad you didn't marry either of my girls. By God, they can both do much better than a lecherous oaf who turns from a good woman at the whim of some slut!"
"Sir--"
"Don't you 'sir' me!"
The door slammed shut before he could realize it had opened--before he could even apologize, say how much he loved Asalaye, how he would have tried to do right by Nanalie. A labored sigh breaking free from his chest, Cord shuffled to the couch and collapsed upon it. He never would get a chance to say those things now. In all likelihood, Adonis Indruion had no intention of ever speaking to him again.
"Cord?"
He didn't have to turn to see Riala making her way down the stairs, not when her slippers made that soft click! on every step, not when her linen skirt swished from board to board. How long had she been listening from above? Long enough to hear herself branded a slut?
"How much did you hear?"
"Does it matter?" Fairy footfalls chimed against the floor as she flitted forth to join him on the couch. She had been good about this whole thing, much better than he might have expected. He almost felt guilty about wishing she was Asalaye.
"Are you all right?"
Cord shrugged. "I didn't get to say everything I wanted, but I guess I'll survive."
"Mmm." Her blue eyes fell to her lap as she twirled her wedding band around her finger. It was a little big for her, but that shouldn't have surprised him. It had been made for someone else. "I'm sorry, Cord. I should have told Fenrick to fuck off."
Was that how she really felt? Maybe she was right, or at least partially. Then again, maybe he was an even bigger asshole for thinking that. "No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have called at your place."
"You couldn't have known this would happen." A frown on her mouth, she let her hands fall idle. Stillness didn't quite suit her. "I can't believe I was so careless. I've never been caught before."
Never. He believed her. He could even vouch for her.
But there was a first for everything. Figured that it had to be him.
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 16, 1175
"Cord!" Perhaps a little more eager than was acceptably ladylike, Riala greeted her friend with a quick hug. Fenrick and Eilyssa and the baby were visiting at her father's house and her other siblings were at their grandmother's and Lord only knew where her mother was. Even the cat had been out on the prowl since morning. She'd been alone all day and a face other than her own reflection was a welcome relief.
Besides, she needed some details. "How did it go? Did you end up asking Asalaye to marry you? What did she say?"
Cord said nothing--odd, seeing as there was nothing he cared to discuss more than Asalaye, and certainly that preference had only strengthened since talk of marriage had begun. Suspicious, Riala lifted herself to her toes for a better view of his face. Of course he'd said nothing. His eyes answered every question.
Badly, No, and Nothing, because of the last answer.
"So... Old Man Indruion didn't budge, then?"
Cord's head fell to incline, his fist balled to steady its shaking. She'd never seen him like this--strong Cord, tall Cord, Cord the rock. He was a man on the verge of falling apart and she wouldn't be enough to hold him together. "Not if Nanalie wasn't going to get an offer first."
So not a single one of those boys had come through for him. Cowards. Ingrates. Cord had been running favors all week, anything to get the tiniest chance of cooperation from any of them--and unbeknownst to him, Riala had thrown in her own brand of persuasion too--and it had all been in vain.
And what was wrong with Nanalie anyway? Sure, she wasn't the most personable of people... but she had worked hard and had a good head on her shoulders and might not have been anything horrible to look at if she tried a little harder. Most of those boys could have done much worse--and besides, she might not have even said yes!
"Oh Cord, I'm so sorry." The shaking in his hand intensified somewhat; not sure what else she could do, she steadied it with her own. "I can't believe that not one man asked her."
His fist tensed within her grasp as a tortured sigh escaped him. It was alarming. Cord was not the sort of man who sighed lightly. "One man did."
"And yet, he--oh!" What had she been about to say? Something about Master Indruion going back on his word? That had been dumb. Cord would have found a way to get past that. Stupid, stupid, stupid! "Oh Cord! Why did you do that?"
Why had she asked that? It was obvious. "I thought she'd say no."
Poor boy. His only crime had been falling in love with the second sister and a marriage of convenience was too harsh a punishment. But he knew that--obviously. And there was little he could do now without looking like an insensitive ass who withdrew proposals like lots in a game of dice. He was just here to sit, most likely, to talk while she listened. Or maybe he wouldn't talk at all. Maybe he just wanted someone to hold his hand for a little while, to lend him the strength he never thought he'd lack.
Nodding, Riala pulled him up the stairs and ushered him into her mother's bedroom. It was the warmest room in the house, the coziest--and for once it was unoccupied. She gestured for him to take a seat on the bench by the foot on the bed, then closed the door and joined him.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Is there much point?" He slouched into a drawn-out collapse, elbows to his legs, catching his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I may be just a pig farmer, but I'm a man of my word. If I asked Nanalie to marry me and she accepted, then I suppose I have to. I'll marry her and go through life with her and have babies with her, and Asalaye will see me all the time and hate me forever."
"You don't know that for sure." Of course it was the strongest possibility... but that wasn't necessarily a guarantee, was it? "Have you had a chance to talk to her yet?"
Cord shook his head. "Why would she ever want to talk to me again?"
It was a stretch, but she had to give him something. A good friend would give him something. "...closure?"
He sniffed. Poor boy. He'd never wanted to give Asalaye 'closure'. He'd hoped what they had would never need it. So much for all of that now. "I... I don't think I want to talk anymore. Can you just..." he reached across the gap between them and took the fold of her skirt between his fingers "...be there? You were always good at the, uh... comforting."
So that was what he was after. Why hadn't he just said so in the first place? Then again, heartbroken boys weren't always the most methodical of people. Maybe he hadn't known what he needed just then. But if he did now...
Well. What could she do? She was his friend, after all.
"All right. I'll comfort you."
She pulled her legs onto the couch and crawled on top of him, the muscles of his abdomen firm beneath one hand and his heart vulnerable beneath the other. At least he knew what he needed. There would be much comforting required.
So there was no sense in wasting any time.
"The fuck?"
"Get your cock out of my SISTER!"
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 15, 1176
"Nanalie."
"Cord." Unfazed by his attempt at a smile, she gave a curt nod and a no-nonsense stare. She wanted to get this over with. Well, that made two of them. "My father said you wanted a word?"
She didn't look particularly curious. Had Adonis primed her? Or did she care just that little? Not that it was a problem. "Yes, well... how are you?"
"Well enough."
She stated the word with a resigned indulgence, her mouth giving him nothing but her eyes telling him to make it quick. This was why he had failed. It wasn't her hasty, shapeless pile of hair--which might have been long and silky like her sister's--or her sculpted, hawk-like features--which may have been considered handsome--or even the skinny body in her form-free gown--which really could have been any form at all. This was why none of the men he'd begged and bargained with and even tried to bribe had given in. She was impatient, task-driven, harried; hardly the sort who made a man feel appreciated, no matter what else she could do for him.
"What's this about?"
Ah, but it wasn't as if Cord wanted to be here any more than Nanalie herself did. Nothing to do but take a deep breath, lean in, and get to the point. He'd say his piece, she'd turn him down... and there! Then he was free to propose to Asalaye. "Well... we're both grown people and I have a household that needs running and it gets a little lonely back at my farm; it would be nice to have some company."
Nanalie raised an eyebrow. This was it--she was about to tell him not to bother and to just ask her sister like he wanted to. Boring as she was, she was clever enough; she probably saw right through her father's ploy and thought him a fool for worrying.
"And?"
All right. Maybe she just needed to hear it for sure. "Well, I was wondering if maybe... you'd keep me company."
There. Done. He could almost taste the sweet freedom. Just a couple seconds now...
"Fine."
...what?
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 8, 1176
Asalaye's father was not the sort of man Cord would have normally pegged as intimidating. He was a good man, a kind man--the sort of man who let the village children swim in his pond on hot days, the sort of man who went to shops with uneven coin and let the proprietors keep the change. But today, he could have been anyone. Sitting there, his eyes narrowed and frown swelling and the rest of his body eerily still. He might have been a stranger. He might have been a wild animal crouching in the bushes, just waiting for his prey to make the wrong move.
"I take it this is about my daughter?"
Cord swallowed. He'd been hoping to lead into that with some prelude of chitchat, but the awkward silence must have passed the time Adonis had allotted it. So much for getting comfortable first. Why had he hesitated? Stupid, stupid... "Uh, well... yes."
"I see." The older man rested his hand on the chair's arm and sighed. Cord didn't even have to asked. Adonis already knew. "Well. Forgive an old man for never dreaming this day would come so soon."
It was neither a yes nor a no. Cord struggled against the urge to fidget; indignance probably wasn't of much use to any cause. "Sir, I don't want to rush you, but--"
"Cord, you have sisters." He frowned. What did his sisters have to do with anything? "Suppose Had and Lyraina had never met, and suppose she never had anyone else--impossible, I know, but bear with me. Suppose Hilla had a gentleman caller who one day went to you or your stepfather and asked for her hand. If you tell him yes, then what do you tell Lyraina?"
Err... "To be happy for her sister?"
Adonis's brow furrowed. Great answer, genius. "Cord, I never had any sisters, but I did have a pair of cousins growing up, two girls. The younger was bright, pretty, outgoing. The elder... well, there was nothing wrong with her, but her sister was larger than life and cast a proportionate shadow. The younger girl had four proposals before she turned sixteen. She ended up marrying the fifth man, a man that her sister had once admired. After that, my older cousin stopped eating. She grew so thin and pale that her parents had to send her to a nunnery to recover." He took a sharp breath, brown eyes flitting to the ceiling. "She never did."
He knew where this was going. Somehow, Cord got the impression that Nanalie was made of sterner stuff than her ill-fated cousin, but if Adonis had seen that happen before then there probably wasn't much he could do to reassure him. But if Adonis wanted him and Asalaye to wait until Nanalie had married... well, how long would that be? "I understand your concern, but I don't think Nanalie would take it that way."
"And how can you be sure of that?"
If ever was a question a man never wanted to hear. Cord swallowed. "Well, I guess I can't, but--"
"You can't." For a man of his age, Adonis had retained more of his prime than many could hope for, but the light in his eyes was cool and seasoned. For the first time in their acquaintance, he looked truly old. "But I suppose there's one way to find out."
NEXT CHAPTER:
February 5, 1174
Ideally, Asalaye would have been the one calling at Cord's house, but she was a young girl and her father had his reservations and Cord could understand that--and besides, having to ride to her family's home in Veldora to see her did beat not seeing her at all. And it wasn't as if her father was strict, or her stepmother was a shrew, or either of them was insistent on acting as a chaperon, so things could have been much worse and he realized that.
There was, however, one complication--Nanalie.
"I take it Asalaye slept in again?"
"She did."
"And you didn't."
"Clearly."
And then, there was silence--as always. Awkward, excruciating silence.
Cord had nothing against Nanalie as a person. She was probably nice enough, and possibly even intelligent... but she was just so damn dull. And whenever he came to call on Asalaye--and whenever she'd slept in--it figured that Nanalie was always the one around to keep him occupied while his sweetheart scrambled to get ready.
"Uh, so..." Cord began with uncertainty, more for the sake of filling the gap than anything else, "is that a new dress?"
It wasn't, and he knew it--and he knew she knew he knew it. "No. Why?"
Damn. "Uh... you look nice today?"
Nanalie gave a disbelieving sniff. "None of your nonsense."
None of your nonsense... it was probably her favorite phrase. Cord liked the no-nonsense type--Asalaye herself was one of them, or so he'd always thought--but Nanalie took it too far. Everything was nonsense to her--everything. "It's not--"
"It is." Her tone was blunt and final. He couldn't argue even if he cared to; it just wasn't worth it.
He splashed his way through the resulting quiet and grasped at the shuffling sounds from the loft. He heard footsteps, the rustle of clothing, the creaking of drawers as they opened and shut, but they were never enough. His own thoughts became audible. Hurry up, Asalaye. Hurry up, hurry up...
She didn't. Meanwhile, her sister was eyeing him with a strange sort of scrutiny. If he hadn't been uncomfortable before, he was now.
"Err... say, Nanalie? Could you tell Asalaye to meet me in the stables?" Cord tossed back his head and flashed the widest grimace he could muster. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he didn't know how much more of this he could take; chances were, she was feeling something similar anyway. "I think I could use a little fresh air."
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 17, 1173
"And this," Cord concluded the tour as Asalaye followed him through the door, "is the master bedroom."
Christ, how many bedrooms did one man need? Even if Cord had started drawing up the plans for the house before his mother had married Sir Tarien--before he'd known that the rest of his family would be staying at the manor--the count was a bit steep. "So... how are you going to fill out all this space, exactly?"
He shrugged, not taking his eyes off the window in front of him; he did, however, reach back for her hand. Like she might have expected from a farmer, it was rough and calloused, but she didn't mind. Her father and brother had hands like that too. "Good question. Guests, farmhands, servants... maybe kids some day..."
"Kids?" The word stuck in her throat and was expelled in a choke. Concerned, Cord glanced at her, but she picked herself up with a grimace. At least there was a possibility that he'd meant it as a harmless comment? "What the hell, Cord? You're only a kid yourself."
"I'm fifteen." He turned around and tapped her on the nose. "Your own brother was married at sixteen, I might remind you--not that I'm planning on marrying any time soon. Anyway, do you like the bedding?" He nodded toward the bed, which was spread with a blanket of a pretty turquoise shade. "The dye wasn't cheap, but I figured it would be nice to have a splash of color."
"It is," Asalaye agreed, prompting a goofy grin on Cord's face. She always wanted to laugh when he smiled like that, but she wasn't sure why. It wasn't a particularly flattering grin, and it somehow made his nose seem even longer--not that she had any reason to complain about other people's noses, as Lonriad always made a point to remind her. "Nice color choice, too."
"Most girls like turquoise, right?" She nodded. His smile grew a little. "That's a relief. I really didn't want to have to spend the rest of my life with pink bedding."
Oh? Asalaye glanced over the bedding once again, her lip curling inward with each sweep of her eyes. She did like turquoise, but... "What's wrong with pink?"
Her sweetheart's brow arched. Had she ever seen it do that before? He had such thick, bushy brows that it was kind of a strange effect--almost comical, even. "I wouldn't have thought you were the sort of girl who liked pink."
"Err... I'm not." It was a lie--she loved pink--but she didn't want to make a big deal of it. She didn't want him to replace the blanket if she said she liked another color. She also didn't want him to not replace it if she said she liked another color. "But I do like turquoise."
"I thought so." Out-of-the-blue, he took her by the waist and twirled her around in circles. The motion, she would later muse, must have been playing with her senses. His nose looked smaller and his hair looked shorter, darker. His goofy grin became a teasing smirk and the earth was the cosmos. Only the sparkling dust of the universe supported them, but it was enough. The stars danced and the clouds swirled and the moon shot across the sky like a glowing arrow.
But then he set her down, and the stars vanished. She was back in his bedroom, no longer in the company of the celestial but instead in that of goofy grins, large noses, and turquoise blankets.
NEXT CHAPTER:
