In Which Had Trades Musings on Knowledge

March 17, 1198

"So... what do you think it'll be? Boy? Girl?" Had asked mainly for the sake of asking something. If he'd been asked as a young father who of all the boys he knew would be the most likely other grandfather of his first grandchild, he wouldn't have considered Fenrick Wythleit as a possibility. Fenrick wasn't that much younger than he was, if he forced himself to remember that, but he'd never quite shaken the fact that one of his best childhood friends was this man's stepmother; in that way, he'd somehow lodged Fenrick in mind with the next generation.

This was ridiculous, as there was particularly youthful about Fenrick. Had didn't dislike his daughter-in-law's father, but he struggled to name a more serious, almost grim acquaintance off the top of his head.

"I see no reason to guess. All that matters to me is that my daughter delivers safely."

"Ah, yes, of course." Fenrick did, at least, have his priorities in order. "I didn't mean to imply that anything else mattered more. I was just curious as to whether or not you had an inklings."

"On what could I base an inkling? It's not as if we can see through Geneva's skin and seek the telltale signs."

"Huh. Wouldn't that be something if we could." Had smirked, remembering something Raia had once said about an idea that bats saw by sound. If that same principle could be somehow applied to a developing fetus some day... "Could be useful, knowing beforehand. Then again, I'm sure there are some who'd use that knowledge the wrong way."

Fenrick shrugged. "The same could be said of most knowledge--all about who uses it and how."

"I suppose you're right there. Perhaps for Hal's sake, it would be more immediately useful if we could see through doors." Arydath had had to lock it to keep the silly boy from intruding on the birth--and try as he might, Had hadn't been able to pry him from the keyhole. But better silly boy than a careless husband?

"Can't say I blame him," Fenrick agreed, coming the closest to smiling that Had had ever seen from him. "No one ever told me quite how tough this would be, waiting for my daughter to give birth. It was tough enough waiting for my wife to give birth. You just... you never know when it will go wrong. Knowing for sure that all will be fine? That would be useful prior knowledge."

Had nodded--but, the sight of Fenrick's wife on the stairs, spring in her step and grin on her face, was ample assurance of the favorable outcome. "Eilyssa?"

"Had. Fenrick." She finished her descent and kissed her husband on the cheek. "Geneva did wonderfully. She and the baby are both in excellent health."

Fenrick sighed. "Thank God."

"Definitely." Hal, no doubt, had burst into the room at the first possible second. Winter and Arydath probably stood at the foot of the bed, Winter with a hand over her own growing middle. As for Geneva and the baby, they must have been cuddled up together in the bed, like Lyraina had been with Hal when he was new.

And Had?

Had was a grandfather. Happy as he was, he doubted he'd ever be used to the idea. "Thank God indeed."

Eilyssa traded smiles with him and Fenrick both, then nodded toward the stairs. "Come along, you two. Come and meet your grandson."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Winter Meets Had's Idea of Comforting

October 16, 1195

"Twice, now." Had sighed as he finished with the laces of his best tunic. The family colors, as he was--and had been for over four years now--the patriarch of the Naronian Indruions. Not yet forty was not old enough to be a patriarch, not in any world Winter's husband and his family deserved. Had himself, if Winter had anything to do about it, would one day sit silver-haired in his favorite chair, bouncing great-grandchildren on his aching--but still holding--knees. Adonis, much as he'd deserved the same longevity, and though he'd died happy and fulfilled, had not been quite so lucky.

And, on days like Thetis's wedding day--days Adonis ought to have lived to see--that was felt all the more strongly. "You know, I feared I might be the one walking Rahileine down the aisle, but I never considered that my father would die before Lea and Thetis married. I suppose at least he saw Alina take her vows, for all he had mixed feelings about that, but he wasn't so old that he ought to have left three children unsettled."

"They were never unsettled, Had. Even if your sisters couldn't have figured out their own futures--which Lea and Thetis, at least, did--you would have helped them had they asked." And he'd even added to the dowries his father had left out of his own pocket! It would be a while before Arydath or Giana needed theirs anyway, and Winter suspected Honora wouldn't need hers at all--or, not in the way Had anticipated giving it. "Your father and mother and stepmother did well for themselves, and by all of you. You were given a good foundation, and were well schooled on how to build on it."

"We were. Still, he ought to be here today. Ought to have been here for Lea's wedding too--and to see her children." Had sniffed. Perhaps he'd overheard Lea confiding in Winter that she suspected that she held in her the beginnings of her third child, her third in as many years. At least those three babies had their paternal grandparents to dote over them. "Only a matter of time before Thetis starts having babies too. I guess at least they'll have Fenrick's parents."

"They will. But, you know..." Winter pursed her lips, not sure quite how to best voice the thought. Everyone had a different idea of what was or wasn't comforting--and what was or wasn't ridiculous. "...I think your father left enough love in the world that Thetis's children and Lea's children and any other children the family might produce will feel it. You'll all tell your children about him, and about your mother and stepmother, about how they worked so hard and loved even harder. And I think you and your siblings all have enough of your father in you that they'll get to know him through you."

"I hope you're right about that. I'd like to think we all have some of our father in us, and our mothers too." He managed, at least, a wistful smile--though, it was quick to become a smirk. "Well, except Congren."

Winter grimaced. Congren was, by a vast amount ahead of his closely-clustered competitors, her least favorite sibling-in-law. She suspected it was a unanimous ranking among all the Indruion in-laws. That said... well, whatever Congren's problem was, she'd figured he found it easier to be an ass than to work his way through it. It was the least she could do for the father-in-law who'd left the family on such strong bedrock--sticking up occasionally for the one wayward son. "I think there's more to Congren than we all give him credit for. He's a hard worker, at least; he got that from your father."

"I guess so, for all I wish he'd work a little harder at not being a colossal dick. But ah, never mind Congren; it's Thetis's day." And Had, Winter knew--for all he'd never believe it shouldn't have been Adonis--would do her well, walking her down that aisle as he'd done for Lea before her. "I just hope our father and her mother have a decent view of the chapel from the clouds."

Nodding, Winter pulled him in for a hug. "I'm sure they do."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Winter Makes and Is Made

July 18, 1187

"Winter, Winter!" Aspen skidded to a halt as her mother followed her into the room. The little girl had a tendency to trip over her own feet, so Lady Rona never cared to see her running. "Had's here!"

"Is he?" Landing one last tickle to little Dally's chin, Winter turned and greeted both her charge and her employer with a grin. Had did not make a habit of calling on her at work, which was probably why neither Lady Rona nor Sir Ashe seemed to mind on the off-chance he did. "Well, tell him to come in, silly."

"I did! But he says he doesn't want to keep you from your work long, so he'll just wait in the courtyard until you have a minute, then go run some errands after you talk."

"He wants to talk, then?" About nothing too serious, she hoped! Had wasn't her first suitor, but she'd always been busy back in Dovia, caring for her mother and caring for her father and making ends meet, so none of those courtships had lasted long enough for much 'talk'. But things had been going well, at least she thought, so it wouldn't be anything too horrible--surely? "How did he seem? Happy? A little somber?"

"He seems very happy," Lady Rona answered on her daughter's behalf. "Despite Aspen and Darry ambushing him as he walked in the gates. This one and Had got out unscathed, but the silly boy ripped his tunic."

"Do you need me to mend it?"

"Thank you, but I have Electra working on it right now." Lady Rona winked. Odd; in Winter's experience, noblewomen didn't typically make a habit of winking at their servants. "It's just a little tear. She can mend it while you talk to Had."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't mind." She held out her arms and gestured for her youngest; somewhat unsure, Winter handed Dally over. "Now, go and talk to him before my middle two can pester him again."

"All right. I'll try to make it quick."

She hurried out of the nursery and made her way to the castle's front steps, nearly clearing two at once in her haste. Sure enough, she found Had at the bottom, on the path the cut through the courtyard.

"Allergies letting up?"

"A little." But God, she couldn't wait for December! She had her ups and downs, but anything below her brain and above her gut was not her own from April on to November. No, it was rented domain of phlegm, and phlegm refused to be evicted. But Had had seen her on some of her worse days in the past year, and if that hadn't chased him away, who knew what would. "I'll be in the clear once the Christmas wreaths go up."

"Good thing I have six months. That will be a tough Christmas present to beat."

"You don't have to get me a Christmas present."

"Oh, so you want to show up on Christmas morning with something wonderful for me, then watch me scramble?" Chuckling, he pulled her in for an embrace, his hand warm and gentle against her exposed upper back. "Not a chance."

"Damn. I was looking forward to seeing you flustered." She kissed him on the cheek, then stepped back, looking him over. He wasn't lacking in comical features--the beak-like nose, for instance--but they blended in such a way that somehow made for a handsome man.

It was the flaws, after all, that made one human. "Now, what did you want to speak to me about?"

"Ah, yes. Forgive me if I'm a little nervous." Nervous? Why on earth would he be nervous? She hadn't thought she intimidated him--and given past suitors, she'd appreciated that. "Thing is... I've been happy this past year. Very happy. And this after a time I hadn't thought I could be happy again."

Wait...

"Had?"

"It's true, Winter. And the reason I've been so happy is you. Every story about your old employers, the way you can't focus on anything else when there's an open book in front of you, even the sniffles from your allergies. You've been on my mind on a loop for months now, and even though my life is good and I know that now, nothing brings that to light quite like seeing you."

Was this? It couldn't have been...

"Winter Verona." He dropped to one knee, hand to his heart, eyes to her face. Not quite blue, not quite green, some wonderful in-between. "I love you. And, if you'll have me, I'd like to spend the rest of my life trying to make you just as happy as you've made me."

"Oh, Had." She couldn't help it. She leaped, practically sprung--landing squarely in his startled, yet reliable arms.

"You already have."

An exhale--relief. His grip tightened and relaxed all at once. "So... you'll marry me?"

"Of course I'll marry you." As she slipped down from his arms, she wondered if she ought to have been more subtle. But who cared? He certainly didn't. Nor did she. "I love you too."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Had Gets the Blessing

July 17, 1187

Had liked to think that his older two children were on the right road to becoming reasonable adults--and, for the most part, he was right. They knew when to pick their battles. They knew when they had a legitimate point, and when they were best just throwing the other party a bone. Their priorities were in order, moreso than Had remembered his own being at their ages. Hal and Honora both knew better than to take over the important decisions about someone else's life.

And yet... well, it was their lives too, if not to the same extent. A reasonable adult--and Had liked to think he was one--would at least fill them in. Fill them in, and hope to God they didn't put up a fuss.

They'd seated themselves on the same side of the table, talking about Geneva Wythleit again, no doubt; one of these days, Hal would have to work up the guts to ask that girl out. Had took a seat across from them instead of his usual one at the head of the table. He wanted to approach them as his own children, but not as children in general.

"Hal. Honora." He nodded to each in turn, then inhaled. Here it was. "I'm glad you're both here."

"You did tell us to be," Hal pointed out. "What's the matter? There isn't any problem with the business, is there?"

"No, the business is doing well, and I expect it will do even better come December when we have your Uncle Sev back." And then again in June when they had their future Aunt Hanna. There were a few years of change ahead for the Indruions as it was. Perhaps they'd already noticed that.

"And then Aunt Hanna." So Honora, at least, had--and she wouldn't have smiled if she hadn't been at least all right with it. God, she looked so much like her mother. She may have had Had's coloring, and her Grandpa Halford's eyes, but her nose and her chin and that grin were all Lyraina. Lyraina, at least--he knew in his heart--would be happy for him. If his children objected, that would be blessing enough. "If it's not the business, what is it, Papa?"

"All right." Nervous as he was, he couldn't help but beam at the thought. If that didn't mean he was ready, then what the hell did? "I've decided to ask Winter to marry me."

And now came the waiting. He wasn't worried about his younger two children. Adonis, the poor baby, had never known his mother, but he'd come to know Winter well over the past year and he adored her. Had might have been more concerned about Arydath, being at just the right age to still be clinging to the memory of her mother and not yet ready for the thought of a stepmother, but she too was similarly enamored, thinking of Winter somewhere along the lines of a fairytale princess who'd appeared from nowhere to make Papa happy again. Hal and Honora, though...

Well, they liked Winter well enough. That wasn't the issue.

"Well... I suppose you have been seeing her for over a year now," Honora mused. "And she's very nice, and clever. As far as stepmothers go, we could do much worse."

"And she's pretty," Had added. "Maybe a bit too pretty for a stepmother. I mean, she is quite a bit younger than you, which is kind of strange."

"But she's very mature. Besides, Thetis's mother is nearly a decade younger than her father, and they're happy together."

"I guess. And Geneva's younger than me; I guess that matters less when you get older."

So... was that...?

"So you'd be all right with it?"

Hal took a few seconds, but nodded. Honora was less hesitant. "Of course we'd be all right with it. Will you have babies? I miss having babies around."

"Uh... well, if she wants to have babies, I wouldn't object." He did only have four children--more than enough if Winter didn't want any, but he'd have no issue supporting more if she did. "Hal, I hope you can get used to the age difference. I do realize that she's not far from the average of our ages, but she is indisputably an adult, and I've come to love her very much."

"I'll get over it." His son smiled. He too was not lacking in his mother. "Ask her, Father."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Had Tries Something Innocent Enough

April 22, 1186

"Just relax," Setran urged, echoing Nanalie, Rifden, Raia, Hilla, Sev, Arydath, and Had's father all at once. "Tonight doesn't have to mean anything if neither of you feel it. Besides, you're honoring the agreement you had with Lyraina."

That he was, Had supposed. Morbid as some couples may have found it, he and Lyraina had always prided themselves on being practical people, so they'd discussed on more than one occasion what each of them wanted from the other should one party pass. In regards to courting others, they'd agreed that roughly a year later was a sensible place to start; neither had wanted the other to be alone long, after all.

But a year had come and gone, and Had hadn't felt quite up to it. So he'd let another month go by--and after that month, Medur had mentioned a young woman he and Ellie worked with at Sir Ashe's castle. Rather obviously, at that; he believed the exact phrasing had been 'clever, pretty, and surprisingly available'.

Medur--Lyraina's own brother--wanted to arrange an outing. If that wasn't a sign that enough time had passed, who knew what was. And even if he wasn't ready... well, a first date couldn't hurt. Many first dates didn't lead to seconds--and if it didn't, surely this woman would understand? From what Medur had told him, she seemed like she would.

But then, less than a week before they were scheduled to meet, tragedy struck Lyraina's family yet again: her sister Celina's husband, victim of a freak incident at Sir Bernardo's stables. He'd nearly backed out, not wanting to add to the family's stress, but they'd all insisted he keep the date--even Celina.

So, here he was--waiting for Medur's colleague, with good old Setran sitting around to keep the second thoughts at bay.

"Do you think it's fair to her? I mean, what if Medur didn't tell her I'm a widower?"

"Of course he did. It's Medur. And even if he didn't use that word exactly, she probably figured it out when he said brother-in-law; he would have spoken about you by name at work, I'm sure of it."

That seemed a bit of a stretch. "Do you think your steward and your children's nanny know each other's family?"

"Well... my steward and my children's nanny are married, so that's not really a fair comparison." Of course. "But I'm sure they talk. I mean, he knows the both of you well enough to think you'd enjoy each other's company, at least."

"I guess so." At any rate, Medur wasn't the type to force people together when they'd prefer to have nothing to do with each other. Had sighed. "I hope you're right."

"Of course I'm--" But Setran dropped the sentence, head turning to the cue of the opening door. Sure enough, the newcomer was a young woman, brown hair twisted back into a loose bun like Medur had described, her clothing an approximation of the Torgleid colors.

He tried to watch without staring and she approached Seoth at the bar. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Had Indruion. Is he here yet?"

"That's him." Seoth pointed, and the woman's head turned. Medur hadn't lied when he'd said she was pretty. "The one who copied my haircut."

"I didn't copy your haircut, Seoth." Had left the table, patting Setran on the shoulder as he passed. "I've been wearing my hair like this since I was a kid."

"And I've been wearing mine like this since your father was a kid."

"And I think you both wear it well," the woman concluded for them. "Actually, Medur didn't mention how handsome you were."

"Then he told me more than he told you." Wait... That hadn't sounded quite right. "He told me you were pretty, I mean. I'm sorry; it's been a while since I've done this."

"Yes, he... he did mention that." Her smile fell with grace to a line. She understood. He felt silly for fearing she wouldn't. "If this is too soon for you, I'd understand if you'd rather postpone it indefinitely."

"Thanks, but I should be all right." I think. Would she be so sensitive if he changed his mind partway through? "I'm Had, by the way."

"I know; Seoth just said it." He had. Shit. "I'm Winter."

"Winter." He'd heard 'Summer' as a woman's name, as well as 'Autumn'... but never 'Winter'. Perhaps because it was such a bleak season, the one most people couldn't wait to finish. But he'd always rather liked it. "That's a nice name."

"Thanks. My parents wanted four girls--one for each season--but some complications with my birth left my mother with some difficulties, so they just always had cats named Spring, Summer, and Autumn. Er, sorry, that was probably too much information. I don't this very often either."

"It happens." Good to know he wasn't the only one prone to nervous rambling, though he doubted it was so charming from his own mouth. "So... what do you want to do?"

"I was thinking maybe a walk around the village, then something to eat back here? I've just been to this inn a few times with Medur and Ellie; I'm not in this shire very often."

A walk, then something to eat. Innocent enough, but not devoid of the potential for something more. If he wasn't up to it, they could at least part as friends. Probably. "That sounds nice."

*

"No, I'm serious!" And if he'd learned anything about the movement of her eyes over the course of their date, she was. But how did a person act like the woman in this story? Winter's poor former employer, stuck being a nephew to this creature. "And the shouting match with her niece's suitor isn't even the end of it. Some other time I'll have to tell you about the Christmas party where Sir Darsy got stabbed and poisoned; even that had to be about her!"

"I'm going to have to hear that story." But saving it for another time was a good idea. He hadn't expected it, but... he wanted to see her again. Soon. "Is she still causing havoc back in Dovia?"

"Yes. Mostly butting heads with her son-in-law's father. Lucky that he's one of the few who can deal with her." Winter shook her head, grinning all the while. Boring old Sir Ashe and Lady Rona must have been such a welcome change. "I may have to write some memoirs about working in that household."

"And I may have to read them." His fingers twitched atop the table, toward her resting hand without bouncing the idea off his brain. But he didn't mind--and somehow, he knew that Lyraina didn't either. "Do you have any plans for May Day? The festivities in this village are usually good fun."

"I'm actually taking Lady Rona's kids to a May Day festival in Armion--but the day after that is my day off."

Probably for the better, he supposed. His own children would want to go to the May Day festival, and introducing them in the second date probably wasn't the best move. "I can clear some time the day after."

"All right." She squeezed his hand and flashed him a quick smile. "It's a date."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Lyraina Catches On

August 4, 1184

"Sev! My favorite brother-in-law!" Not that Congren provided much competition. Still, Lyraina had nothing against any of her sisters' husbands, but she did have to admit--to herself, at least--that she enjoyed Sev's company more than any of theirs. "Excellent timing. The biscuits are almost done."

"You didn't have to make biscuits."

"Your new little niece or nephew begs to differ." The scent was enough that she might have run the risk of drooling on his shoulder. "Anyway, have a seat and tell your brother and I about your first week."

"All right." Sev nodded toward Had, then started around the table to a seat on the other side. Lyraina took advantage and nabbed a nearer one.

"Second semester already. I could have sworn Father told me he was sending you off just yesterday." Had grinned as his brother tucked himself in, no doubt blushing. "How are your classes?"

"They're good, but I won't bore you with the details until Father gets here. You don't want to hear it twice."

"You're probably right."

"Had!" Lyraina smacked him against the arm on principle. She didn't find Sev's classes any more interesting than Had did, but it was important that they at least understood the basics. Of course, Sev's university experience did include more than just the classes. "How are your housemates? Does Senwick still feel the need to greet the sun with his drums?"

"Yes, but I can usually sleep through it now. And so can Orrick and Landus, so they're fine." Sev shrugged. With Senwick in the house, early morning drumming must have been mundane by now. "Koradril's still getting used to it, though."

"Koradril?" Must have been a new housemate. Curious, Lyraina leaned forward. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that's a noble name."

"Uh, well... yes, I guess it is." But rather than elaborate, Sev chose to shut up and stare at the table.

But that crook in Had's brow said he wasn't satisfied. "That wouldn't be... Prince Koradril, would it?"

"Uh..."

Well. So the university experience took an interesting turn. "It is, isn't it?"

"Look, he doesn't want people to make a big deal of him being there, all right?"

Lyraina glanced over at Had, who frowned. Sev usually wasn't so defensive. "Sev...?"

"Sorry. It's just that he just wants to have a few years of normal, and he was hoping university could be that. I guess this doesn't really matter because we're here alone, but... I don't know, habit. I'm trying to be a good friend."

"Oh." That was more like Sev. Though... "Wait, you two are friends?"

He shrugged. "I guess so."

"Do you see the two of you staying friends?" asked Had, eyes narrowed. Surely he was thinking what she was thinking? "I don't know, say... once you've graduated?"

"Well, it's a little early to tell, but I don't see why not."

"Interesting." Had tried to keep his smile at bay, as he usually did when he was getting ahead of himself. And surely he didn't want to voice his thoughts in front of his good-natured, altruistic little brother.

But while Sev may have been the one taking the business classes--and enjoying them, whereas Had probably would have slept through more lectures than not--Lyraina's husband had taken the lion's share of the instincts. If they were to, say, start selling horses to the Dovian Royal Family, and the Dovian Royal Family found them to be good enough stock to spread the word...

Well. Who better for word-of-mouth marketing than royalty?

"Very interesting."

If Sev had caught on, he opted not to press. But Lyraina did know one thing: between Sev's book learning and Had's intuition, her father-in-law's business wouldn't be bankrupt any time soon.

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Had Learns How Small

September 3, 1180

"Papa, why does Mama need mushrooms?" Hal took a few cautious steps toward the basket and studied them with an unconvincing grimace. "She's not going to make us eat them, is she? Mushrooms are gross."

Had cringed. Leave it to a seven-year-old boy to say the most unintentionally rude things in public; Had's little brothers ought to have taught him that much. "Hal! Apologize to Mistress Aerina!"

Hal opened his mouth to do just that, but ever the even-tempered saleswoman, Aerina just picked her little daughter up from the ground and shook her head. It was still a shock and a shame that old Laveria's shop had had to change hands at all, but even old Laveria couldn't have birthed a more capable daughter. "It's fine, Had; I'm not wild about mushrooms myself, really. And don't worry, Hal, your mother won't make you eat these. They're just for her. These particular mushrooms can help with aches and pains while women are expecting."

"Hear that, squirt?" Had shot a wink to Aerina before staring down his son. If Hal could embarrass him in public, then the boy was fair game for teasing. "None of you kids are going to have to eat the mushrooms--except your new baby sister, of course."

"Brother!" Hal corrected, indignant and insistent, just as expected. "One sister's bad enough!"

Little Laveria took to answering that, sticking out her tongue despite not even being Hal's sister. She probably didn't get such comments from her own mild-mannered brother. Had chuckled. "You tell him, sweetheart."

"Be nice," Aerina scolded the little girl. "Anyway, I hope Lyraina hasn't been too uncomfortable."

Had shook his head. "Not really. It's just that she's not the sort to take it easy, you know? Always has to be busy. I offered to hire someone to take care of the place for a few months, and your brother said she could have some time off, but it figures that she'd refuse us both. Just wait, she'll give birth in the castle kitchens."

The herbalist laughed. "Well, it's not like they aren't used to births over there."

"If anything, they're missing a new baby a year--well, everyone but his lordship and her ladyship, I wager."

"You'd wager right. Her ladyship had a scare just last week--came here in a panic, asking if there was any chance she'd taken the herbs incorrectly. Lucky for her, her courses resumed a couple days ago."

"Well!" laughed a booming voice from behind. Nearly jumping, Had whipped around to find a stranger some odd feet back, a man of about his father's age, hair sloppily tied back, dressed simply but finely. There was something familiar about that smile, but if he could have placed it, he would have made note. "Commoners freely discussing the nobility's bodily functions in a public place? This is my kind of kingdom!"

A hot surge pulsed through Had's face. So much for needing his son to embarrass him in public. "Oh no, we don't make a habit--"

"That's a shame. Nothing like bold-faced honesty, I find--at least when it comes to spoken word." And why, pray tell, had the man winked at that addendum? "And there's no sense covering up our natural workings, not when they happen to everyone else as well. I say, the best way to fart is to fart for all the world to hear!"

"And smell!" Hal added with a snicker. Had supposed he could only be grateful that the man had chosen an example that wasn't a swearword.

Delighted, the stranger clapped. "Ah, what a clever youngster you have here, good sir!"

"Well, his mother and I like him."

"Good! All parents ought to like their children, fathers and sons especially. My own father didn't give a warthog's backside for me, and look how I turned out!" And yet, he sounded almost proud. "I take it your own father likes you fine?"

Had nodded. "So far as I'm aware."

"Of course he does," the man agreed, despite the fact that he'd probably never met Had's father in his life. "Anyway, I'm sorry to bother you fine people like this... well, actually, I'm not, but it's the polite thing to say." He chuckled to himself again, in some private joke. Had suspected he knew what was so funny. "Truth is, I'm looking for someone, and it turns out she lives somewhere around here. Tell me, does the name Evaleith Ladell mean anything to you?"

"Yes, actually." For all he couldn't see her getting tangled up with this sort. "She's my big sister."

"Really?" The strangers eyes went wide, both excited and amused, rather like a puppy when the master stepped in the door. "Well, what a small world we live in!"

Apparently so. But it would have been nice to know just how small. "So, how do you know her?"

"Oh, funny story." The man tossed back a lock of hair and indulged himself in another laugh. "You see, I'm her father."

NEXT CHAPTER: