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November 2, 1204
While they had made arrangements for most of their children, neither Leara nor Lorn would have hesitated to break off any of those betrothals had the other party proven unsuitable: violent, ill-tempered, manipulative, neglectful, or otherwise a risk to a spouse's well-being. A dreadful marriage, indeed, did not a strong alliance make--nor would any alliance have been worth the cost of any hope for one of their children's happiness.
So far, however, their children's betrothals had proven to be, more or less, functional matches. Celina had been wary of Karlspan at first, but by the time they'd married, they'd grown quite fond of each other. Neva had grown up with Prior, and their relationship had eventually moved from friendly to affectionate. Privately, Leara didn't quite like Eliana as much as a mother-in-law ought, but it wasn't as if she was outright wicked, and she seemed to make Dalston happy enough. And of course, she couldn't have picked a better woman for Ricky than Hollie.
But if their streak of good fortune there was bound to end eventually, she was relieved to see that Koradril wasn't the one to break it. Farilon's early death had caused Camaline enough grief over her parents' political games, enough anxiety over an uncertain future. Koradril, for all Leara wouldn't have thought Camaline too keen on a widower nineteen years her senior, had both his Aunt Holladrin's steadfast goodness and his father Oswald's unfailing health. It hadn't been her chance at romance that Camaline had mourned with Farilon, after all, but her settled future.
Not that, Leara mused as she caught Camaline glancing Koradril's way yet again as he and Lorn carried on with talk of some trade route or another, romance was out of the question.
"You're rather quiet today, darling."
"Oh?" Camaline blinked, as though she herself hadn't realized this--or hadn't been overly aware of her mother's presence. "My apologies, Mother. I may have talked myself out for the day on that morning walk I took with Koradril."
"That's quite all right--though I didn't know you'd taken a morning walk."
"I didn't tell you?"
"No. I suppose that does support your theory of having talked yourself out, though." Leara smiled, as much to herself as to her daughter. The men's conversation, from what she could hear, did seem to skew in favor of Lorn's voice; perhaps Koradril had found himself in a similar condition. "That, or the theory of how little there can be to say in front of one's parents; I somehow doubt you and Koradril spoke much of trade routes."
"But why shouldn't we have spoken of trade routes, Mother?" Camaline looked over at Koradril quickly before turning back to Leara with a pink tinge to her cheeks. "A princess ought to know something of trade routes, after all."
NEXT CHAPTER:
January 7, 1199
"So Aunt Mona's maid has been Queen of Carvallon this whole time?" Whether or not it was the appropriate response for a future duke and the nephew of the woman who was apparently not the queen, Ricky couldn't fight the laugh and made no effort to do so. "All right, the world can be as shocked as it wants to be, but I can't pretend that's not at least a little bit funny."
His father obliged him with a slight smile. He wasn't as unorthodox as Lord Severin was, nor was he as loyal to Dea as Kaldar was, or as opposed to his late father-in-law as the baron was. If any of the Lords of Naroni were to have a problem with the whole scheme, it would have certainly been him--and perhaps he might have had a problem with it, had it reached his ears when it had been a newly-hatched conspiracy. But now, it seemed he'd deemed it pointless to fight against. "After all this time, yes, I suppose it can be now."
"Though, Grandfather Roderick must be tossing in his grave."
"Perhaps, but a man can change his perspective over much more trivial things than death. Stubborn as your grandfather was, I should hope the afterlife would provide at least some opportunity for reflection on such things. He may have already known, and come to peace with it long ago." Despite the grin, his father's tone was skeptical of his own words--but his brows twitched briefly upright, as if to say he knew he was no less prone to error than anyone else. "It seems that your Grandmother Laralita did learn of it before she went, and she took the news more calmly than anyone could have expected of her."
"Huh." Ricky pursed his lips as he nodded. After his grandfather's death, his step-grandmother's letters had progressed in a pattern of growth he hadn't quite expected of someone so famously materialistic and self-involved. "Sad as it is to say... I think widowhood actually did Grandmother Laralita a world of good, at least once she got past the worst of her grief."
"I believe it did. My father told me once that women are usually better off without a man holding them back--but a man had better have a woman if he hopes to make anything of himself. Going purely by myself and your mother, I'd say that's quite true." His father smirked. "And speaking of such things, I still intend to let you choose your own bride, but I won't pretend that I didn't think you'd have picked one years ago now. Twenty-six is well past the age an heir ought to be married."
"Don't you start on that! It seems I have this conversation with Mother every month." His mother was planning on having Aunt Mona and her family for a banquet the night after next, and Ricky had no doubt that half her motive in hosting them was to set him up with his oldest cousin. "But if it makes you feel any better, I do believe I've chosen someone. It's just a matter of figuring out how best to approach her with it."
"Hmm. I suppose that's a relief." But his father arched one brow, opting to take the declaration with a grain of salt. At this stage, maybe a healthy dose of skepticism wasn't unfounded--but Ricky didn't much want to think about that right now. "But don't waste any time in figuring it out, all right? Lord knows I want to live to see my firstborn's firstborn."
"I'll take all the time I feel we both need. I do want her to have some say in it, you know--not just 'marry me, or I'll have your family make you'." Not that he thought her family would. "Besides, you've seen your secondborn's firstborn, at least."
"I have, and I love her. But forgive your mother and me for wanting a grandchild who lives in the same country."
NEXT CHAPTER:
March 23, 1196
"It's natural to worry, son--but I think Celina will be fine. Her mother birthed nine babies and survived to be in that room with her right now. Her grandmothers had no problems either; one of them is still alive, and the other died of unrelated causes."
There was as much logic as could be applied to the dangers of childbirth in what Searle had to say to the nervous father-to-be, but Lorn couldn't quite manage to tell himself the same.
It was Searle's son... but it was Lorn's daughter. Thinking logically couldn't calm a man in regards to his daughter like it could with his daughter-in-law.
All he could do right now was be thankful that he and Leara had managed to get to Dovia for Celina's time. All he could do was hope that this wouldn't be the last time they saw her.
And maybe try not to flinch when his son-in-law turned to him. "Leara's births all went well?"
"Er... from what I've been told, yes." Any complications she might have encountered had never reached his ears. Maybe it was selfish, but he thought he preferred it that way. "Leara's been healthy her entire life. Same with Celina."
"So was my Aunt Ramona--but she died. My Aunt Elhina too."
There stood the limit on the logic applied to childbirth. "...That's true."
"Lorn. She's fine."
Lorn jerked his head toward the door. Ren's voice. Ren's figure.
Ren, with their newborn grandchild in her arms. "Celina did very well, and I'm sure she'll want to see you once she's had a chance to rest."
Thank God. Lorn sighed. Funny, how a person could go from being unable to stop worrying to being unable to stop smiling.
"God, I'm so relieved!" Karlspan rose from the couch, grinning like an idiot. Babies did have that affect on men. Lorn didn't doubt he'd looked twice as stupid when Celina had been born. "So this little one is...?"
"She's a girl. Celina wants to name her for her mother."
"Little Learianna. Little Learianna Minara," Karlspan cooed as Lorn and Searle shared a nod. They had a mutual granddaughter now. Odd how the world worked.
Odd... but at least his daughter had survived.
And he had a granddaughter now.
A beautiful, perfect granddaughter.
NEXT CHAPTER:
May 1, 1194
"Uncle Lorn!" Dea kissed her uncle on the cheek, then stepped back. Dealing with the lords, she'd learned, was over-complicated by the fact that three of the four of them were close relations. The Baron of Tetran was her beloved grandfather, who'd bounced her on his knee as a toddler and told her bedtime stories as a little girl. Lord Ravenhold was her brother, who admittedly had not been raised as such but who had been making an effort and with whom she'd been making an effort in turn.
The Duke of Armion--the highest-ranking of them all, though it was rare that he demonstrated that--was her uncle by marriage, her father's sister's husband. As with her grandfather, he had been a not-insignificant figure in her childhood, the father of the cousins who had once been her playmates. More often than not, if they met outside of an official capacity, they acted as niece and uncle rather than queen and duke. But, if he'd come alone, and asked for her alone... well, then he was probably acting as a duke.
So, greeting aside, she would treat him as a duke, as a queen would treat a duke. Queens and dukes got to the point. "Willott didn't say what you wish to discuss."
"I didn't tell him. I thought this would be a matter best kept to your inner circle for now."
"So nothing with an immediate impact on the people."
"Indeed, no." Her uncle--the duke--smiled, sheepish rather like his son Ricky often did. It wasn't the sort of smile one often saw when meeting with lords. "I do hope my mention of this matter isn't intrusive. It is something you will have to decide for yourself, but I do believe that it would be important for you to consider."
Not immediate, intrusive, herself, important. She had a reasonable guess as to what this was about. But, she'd hear him out. A good queen heard what her lords and people had to say before she made her final call. "Continue."
"All right. Now that you've adjusted to the roll of queen--and very well, I daresay--I wonder if it might be time to start thinking about... your heirs."
Not immediate, intrusive, herself, important. Exactly. "You think I should look for a husband."
"Yes. Now, don't get me wrong; I'm sure that both of your sisters would make excellent queens in their own ways. I just don't believe, from what I know of them, that either would have much interest in ruling. An heir who grows up with the expectation of succeeding you would adjust more easily to the role of monarch."
"I suppose--though, Hollie grew up with the expectation of succeeding my father, and she was only relieved when she didn't. Nonetheless, a not-yet-thought-of-person might care to rule, whereas I know for a fact that Gennie and Hollie do not."
"Indeed. Of course, it is a matter of who, given the current lack of suitably aged noblemen here and in Dovia at present. I'd offer you Ricky, but he is my own heir, and he couldn't be duke and prince consort at once."
"Of course not." And the thought of marrying her cousin Ricky was almost as repulsive as the thought of marrying her brother anyway. "I believe it might be time that we expand beyond our immediate neighbors anyway in terms of international prominence. A foreign prince consort would be a solid start to that."
"So... you will look?"
Dea bit her lip. She did not think herself quite ready to marry--in truth, she hadn't thought much about marrying at all. But, she was the queen. And sometimes, queens had to consider the needs of the people before their own wants. "I will. Send Brother Sieron to me tomorrow morning; I suspect he'll be a great help in combing the genealogies."
NEXT CHAPTER:
July 26, 1186
"Is it true?" Ricky didn't wait for his father to ask what he wanted. While he'd always known that his sisters marrying and moving away would be more likely than not, this hadn't been how he'd thought it would happen--his father making deals behind their backs, not letting anyone into the loop except for maybe their mother. Aunt Rona had warned him that his father didn't have the best approach to marriages, for all she liked Uncle Ashe now, but Ricky had assumed his father would have had it figured out by the time his own children were ready for betrothals. At least Karlspan hadn't won Celina in a tournament. "Celina's going to marry Karlspan?"
His father frowned. "Who told you that?"
"Karlspan, just before he and Celina headed to Veldora. She asked if he was sure he wanted to go, and he said they should get to know each other anyway. But he thought we already knew, or at least that she did." And while Karlspan made a lot of assumptions for Ricky's taste, that one hadn't been unreasonable. "Why didn't she know?"
"I thought she might be happier if she had a little more time to just enjoy her youth. I was going to tell her when she's sixteen--same with the others."
"The others?" Neva? Camaline? Celina, he could get--he'd overheard his mother telling his father that Celina had started a bodily function he preferred not to think about--but Neva was still a child. And Camaline was just a baby! "You've arranged marriages for the others?"
"Uh... well, they're all tentative, but yes." His father folded his hands and slid his wedding band about between his knuckles. "Neva will marry your cousin Prior. Dalston will marry one of Tarien Andronei's daughters, and Arkon will marry my cousin Abrich's youngest. As for Camaline, I'm in talks with Prince Sparron of Dovia for one of his sons."
His brothers too? "What about me?"
"You?" He'd thought it a valid question. But all his father could do was shake his head. "I haven't arranged anything for you."
"Why not?" Five for six didn't speak to any qualms about arranged marriages. "I'm your heir. Technically, I'm the only one who has to get married."
"Yes, well... you know, I was betrothed to your mother before I even knew what a betrothal was. And damn it, my father could have never found a better woman for me if he'd had a thousand years to look. I wouldn't be half the duke I am without your mother as my duchess."
He nudged the wedding ring firmly to the base of his finger. "I can't count on having that same good luck my father had if I were to find you a wife. As a duke, I do have to think of my people first--and I believe that it would be in everyone's best interest if you were to choose your own bride. No one will know better what you need in a wife than you, after all."
"Oh."
"So, now you know my plans. And do know that if any of the people I've found for your siblings turn out to be objectionable in some way, I won't force them to go through with the marriage." That... was reassuring. Ish. "Celina doesn't have a problem with Karlspan, does she?"
"I don't think so." But Ricky made a mental note to avoid finding spouses for his future children without their involvement. Celina may not have had a problem with Karlspan, but after this afternoon, she likely had a problem with someone. "You might want to apologize for not telling her, though."
NEXT CHAPTER:
September 5, 1183
Florian had not wanted to go to Veldora today. His daughter-in-law--the one who lived with him, as it figured--was due within the week, and while he trusted Thetis more than he'd trust himself or Hamrick to take charge when the baby came, Thetis wasn't exactly free of womb infestation herself at the moment, and all her previous pregnancies had marked her fourth and fifth months as her worst. One of the kids could always run for Arydath, but they were unreliable spoiled brats--God bless their adorable little heads.
But from the looks of it, the chancellors and sponsors were not any more eager to be here than he was. Raia was also pregnant--more pregnant than Thetis, not as pregnant as Esela--with the caveat that her baby had settled abnormally low. From what he'd heard from Falidor, Arydath had said it shouldn't impact the baby's health or the delivery too much, but it did make for an uncomfortable existence as November approached nowhere near quickly enough. Little Clia had just recovered from a slight bout of croup, and the baron was still recovering for the lack of sleep that had merited. Lady Ellona and the duke, what with the duke being married to the king's sister, made for a strained, forced civility whenever they were in a room together, and as for Lord Severin and Lady Leonora... well, Florian didn't know why they looked so exhausted, but he had heard rumors of some new aphrodisiac Aerina had concocted, and Falidor had seen Nora paying her a visit recently...
But enough about that. He did have a long-standing promise to Falidor about not picturing his sisters naked, and there was no sense in breaking that again. Plus the sooner he got to business, the sooner he could leave.
"I've polled the populace about the name. Gathered a few suggestions, narrowed it down, asked." He'd maybe leave out that most of this activity had been limited to Seoth's place, plus his son Severin's insistence that he'd rather commute to Bologna daily than attend a university named after any liquid with a higher alcohol content than his own blood.
Raia straightened her back with an audible crack, then looked him over. As if she hadn't trusted him to do this in the first place. Nobles. "Was there consensus?"
"There was a clear winner, if that's what you mean." And a clear runner-up too, for all Florian hadn't voted for either. "Though I still think that 'East Bandera Honeymead University' is the way to go."
Lord Severin sighed. Yes, he certainly did look like a man who had been up all night, and not just not sleeping. But again, Falidor. "Surely something else came up."
"Unfortunately, yes."
Beside her husband, Lady Leonora frowned. "And that would be...?"
"Well, somebody suggested that the church would want something to do with God..."
Raia and Lord Severin shared a quick, alarmed glance. Damn. He'd want to speak slowly for effect, but if one of them protested, he didn't want to waste time shutting them up. "But then somebody else thought you'd want something irreverent. And then somebody else came up with a compromise."
"Which was...?"
Florian smiled. It was a fun phrase to say. "Quidquid Domini."
"'Whatever of the Lord'?" the baron translated, leaning forward to see the others from his seat by the end of the table. "That does seem to be in the spirit of this kingdom."
"And it does acknowledge the church in a shrug-like manner," agreed Lady Leonora.
The duke grinned. "I like it."
Raia nodded, Ellona and Lord Severin following in her example. That was it, then. The university had a name. Fantastic.
And yet, he was still here. "Um... so, can I leave now?"
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 4, 1183
"So... obviously, this is bad timing."
Severin drummed his fingers along the side of his chair. Raia had that right--though while he supposed he knew that as first-hand as a man could, the sheer facts of life amplified that truth for women. "I doubt there's really such thing as good timing."
"I did want another one eventually, but I was hoping I could focus on the university for the first few years."
"Well, you know there's no shortage of supervision here. Falidor could bring the new one along with Rio." Hell... maybe hiring a few nannies for the university wouldn't be out of the question? Ellona and Lettie were married with children too. Morgan still had Viridis, and there was always the possibility of her marrying again, and there was the chance of Cherry starting a family as well. And if Vera was working at Xeta's school, it would be nice if Lucien could take their son until he was old enough to start his lessons... "Have you seen Arydath?"
Raia nodded. "She said it would be some time in the middle of November."
November. Well, that was the bulk of the planning phase, but at least the university wouldn't open until January. "Then you have a month and a half with the baby before the job starts, at least."
"Yes. As for what happens after, I suppose we'll worry about it later." She picked at one of her nails, her mouth twisted into a half-forced smile. "So, who all did you ask to this meeting? Just Ellona and Lorn and the baron?"
"Yes, just those three. I thought about asking the professors to pick a representative, but it might be easier just to keep it to patrons and administration."
"True. As long as it's not obviously horrible, I don't think the staff will care too much about the name."
Apart from a quick breath of an agreement, they opted to sit in silence until Ellona arrived, and Lorn shortly after her. There had been a few glances shared as Lorn walked in, his being the brother-in-law of Ellona's former lover and all, but it seemed that they'd each resolved to keep a professional civility.
And even if they hadn't, well... they probably would have stopped their bickering when the last of the attendees arrived.
"So... what's wrong with Octavius, exactly?"
"Well, he says he pulled a muscle while training, but judging by his movements and his preferred method of treatment, I suspect a sex injury." If Florian had stopped talking after 'training', Severin would have called that a satisfactory answer. "So, we're starting up a university? That shouldn't be too difficult. Probably along the lines of inventing a new religion."
"Inventing a new religion?" Ellona locked eyes with Raia across the table, getting nothing but a shrug for her troubles. "I suspect that would be quite difficult."
"You know, I thought it would be too, but now every Thursday night, sixty people gather at the sex pond to worship Falidor."
"So that's why my valet always leaves early on Thursdays." Lorn shut his eyes, a sniff escaping him. "But we're supposed to be talking about the name today, right?"
Raia nodded. "Any ideas, Lorn?"
"I don't know. After one of our dearly departed, maybe?"
"That sounds good," Florian agreed. "Say, how about the old king?"
Jaw unhinged, Raia let her eyes wander about the table. When they landed on Severin, he took to saying what they were all thinking. "No disrespect to the dead, but... naming a university after one of the stupidest men these lands have ever seen? Really?"
"That's the point." Florian shrugged. "It would be funny."
As Roderick's son-in-law, Lorn took it upon himself to shake his head. "Don't we have a national animal or something?"
Raia smirked. "Well, there's Jadin."
Severin had to chuckle--at least, until he saw Florian doing the same. "What are you laughing at? He's not your family."
"Good." The steward leaned forward and stuck out his tongue. "You're all terribly dull. I can't believe you don't want to name a university after some dumb king."
"Though to be fair, I'd rather work at King Roderick University than King Ietrin University," muttered Ellona, but not so quietly that anyone had trouble hearing.
"And I don't think anyone would want to attend King Ietrin University," Severin agreed. "What about a geographical feature? Granted, all of the points of interest in the area are a bit... unfortunately named..."
"Unfortunately?" Florian snorted. "Speak for yourself. Open Crotch Delta is my favorite delta. It's the alpha delta, if you will."
"Alpha Delta would have been a better name." Lorn sighed, gripping the edge of the table as he pulled in his chair. "Maybe we're going about this all the wrong way. What if we took suggestions from the populace, then polled them on those?"
"Polling the populace?" And of course it was Florian with the mock-gagging. "Christ, how many people will want to vote in that? I don't think I need a second hand to count them on my fingers."
"Well, even if it's only five people, at least we don't have to worry about it any longer, right?" Raia shot Lorn a smile and Ellona nodded in agreement. Florian crossed his arms and pouted, but Severin chose to ignore that. "That's the great thing about being in charge. You can pass tasks like these onto other people."
"That's right--for no reason other than sheer laziness." And maybe a complete lack of spare energy. An undertaking of this size made for stressful times, after all. "It's the Naroni way."
NEXT CHAPTER:
January 1, 1182
"My lords." Ietrin went for the king's chair despite not technically being the king yet, little or no hesitation or sentiment in his motions as if his father had been dead for years instead of half a day. At least he wasn't wearing the crown. "I appreciate your haste in meeting with me today."
"Our condolences, Ietrin," Lorn bade him. Of the three of them, Severin figured Lorn was the most appropriate person for giving sympathies, at least where Ietrin was concerned. Octavius didn't give half a rat's ass about how Ietrin was and had never been shy about showing it, and the occasion of Roderick's passing was apparently no exception. As for Severin, he was too preoccupied with the long-term implications, plus he was sure he'd have to spend any comforting he had on Laralita on the way out.
"Thank you for your sympathy, but my father would have wanted us to get down to business." Ietrin inched his chair inward and nudged a stylus on the desk. He would have to write King Oswald later, as well as his sisters outside of the kingdom. Though she probably needed more time to grieve, Severin thought that was a job better left to Leara. "In keeping with our usual customs, the funeral will take place two days after the death--"
"Tomorrow." Octavius glowered, daring Ietrin to call him out for interrupting with the obvious. The challenge was ignored. "I would have thought that an exception was in order. Your uncle in Dovia will want to attend, and so will your sisters. The timing of a king's funeral ought to allow for travel."
"That, and the fact that whatever grand send-off your father wanted will take more than two days to arrange," Severin added. Personally, he wouldn't mind if his children put him in the ground the very day and with no more ceremony than the average peasant farmer was paid, but Roderick never would have stood for anything less than the grandest funeral imagined. Ietrin should have known that.
"If my father asks me for some spectacle of an affair, then he shall have it. Of course, we all know he won't." Apparently Ietrin's vocabulary didn't include the word 'can't'. "As for the timing, I don't care for the scent of corpse, nor do I think I could stomach the sight of my father half-rotten by the time the guests arrive. If they wish to hold some sort of service in their own countries, they are welcome to do so on their own time."
Rather flimsy excuses. Severin shared a look with Octavius. He knew what he wanted to say, but he had no doubt that Octavius wanted to say it more. "Are you sure you're not just being hasty because it's a more accepted practice to hold the coronation after the funeral?"
"That would be a valid haste. We can't have a kingdom without a king." Ietrin shut his eyes and straightened his back against Roderick's chair. Severin guessed he was imagining that stupid crown atop his head. "My coronation will take place four days from now. You will all swear fealty to me then."
His puffed-up manner supposed he thought admiration a part of that oath. Severin frowned. "But for now, we are still loyal to your father."
"I'm not an idiot. Lornian aside, none of you were ever loyal to my father."
"Then what makes you think we'll be loyal to you?"
Ietrin nearly snapped the compass he'd been fiddling with, but Severin didn't budge and though he didn't look, he was sure Octavius hadn't either. The prince too stunned to reply, it fell to Lorn to fill the silence. "Perhaps we should backtrack a bit? Aldhein only told me that the king was dead. How did he die?"
"My stepmother found him here when he failed to retire after sampling tonight's wine. The coroner believes that his heart gave out."
Of course it did. He's dead, isn't he? "A rather vague report. Did it occur to you that it might have been the wine?"
"Poison, you mean?" Of course that's what he'd meant. Ietrin knew better than to ask. "Perish the thought. I picked out that bottle myself for my father to sample."
"Did you deliver it?" asked Octavius.
"No, that was Master Finessa."
"The Master Finessa who departed last night."
Ietrin sighed. "Yes, yes, convenient timing. But my stepmother claims that Finessa offered her a glass as well. Why offer poisoned wine to someone other than the target?"
"Perhaps she was expendable," Severin ventured, though that seemed a little too easy. "Or perhaps it was by design. Laralita doesn't drink after supper and Finessa might have known that. If he offered the wine to someone else--even if she didn't take it--the situation would appear less suspicious."
The prince sniffed. "I doubt a mere servant would put much thought into what was or wasn't suspicious."
"Some servants might. Besides, he may not have been the mastermind; I know if I were to hire an assassin, I'd want some say in how the murder was performed."
Ietrin sulked, more out of annoyance than any more human emotion. He would only get more insufferable when he did have that crown on his head. "Clearly you haven't met Finessa if you think there's the slightest chance that he's an assassin. And who would have wanted my father dead, anyway?"
"Admittedly? Off the top of my head, I can't think of a name." And Severin would be shocked if anyone else could either. Roderick had never been an obstacle for anyone in his life, and even those who loathed him would have rather seen him humiliated than dead. Yet, Severin did not know every person Roderick knew... "But that doesn't mean that no one did."
"You're next in line, aren't you?" Octavius leaned forward and stared forth, the prince flinching somewhat if the corner of Severin's eye could judge. "Perhaps you did."
Severin glanced over at Lorn and then they both turned to Ietrin. An interesting point. Ietrin did have reasons for wanting to inherit sooner rather than later.
For all he didn't yet know that those plans were no longer possible. Roderick, for once in your life, you did the smart thing.
Not all men stood up long against eyes. Ietrin was not slow to fold. "Don't be absurd. Now, if I see any of you tomorrow, you'd best be dressed for mourning."
NEXT CHAPTER:
