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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:
February 27, 1180
"Na-an!" Asalaye whined, her voice more like a small child's than that of a woman with two of her own. "How much longer? I want cake."
"I see that. But it's only been in a few minutes, in case you haven't noticed." Nanalie shot an exasperated glance Lyraina's way; Lyraina grimaced, not sure if she had a better option. The elder of her two sister-in-laws was here on her request, and when Asalaye had heard Nanalie would be baking, she'd invited herself, bringing her older son along as if the whole visit was for his gustatory benefit. But Lyraina supposed she didn't mind, so long as neither she nor Nanalie were distracted--and, for the most part, they hadn't been.
"Well, do you have any tricks for speeding the process? There are four hungry children upstairs."
"And three hungry women down here?"
Asalaye grinned sheepishly. "What a coincidence. But never mind that; did Garrett show you how to make his secret icing?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Are you going to make it?"
"Indeed."
"Will you let us watch?"
"Absolutely not."
It was Asalaye with the visible pout, but Lyraina was no less disappointed. Nanalie made the best cakes in the kingdom and no one could argue otherwise, but Garrett's light-yet-creamy icing was nothing short of divine, and a combination of the two would have landed her the job and then some. But before her marriage and the resulting recipe access, Nanalie had managed a derivative that was excellent in its own right, even if it wasn't quite the original; surely she wouldn't be averse to sharing that, now that she had the real thing?
"Smells good, Nan."
Had licked his lips as he shut the door behind him and stepped into the kitchen, not bothering to remove his cloak. Asalaye greeted her brother with a leer. "Oh, so you just assume it's Nanalie's cake?"
"What can I say? There's no fooling this nose." And he tapped it, as if to prove his point, as if any of them could have possibly missed it. "Nanalie's cakes are what you expect heaven to smell like. Your cakes just smell like smoke."
Asalaye sniffed. "I could have improved."
"Well, you couldn't have gotten any worse, that's for sure." Had pulled up the seat on Lyraina's right and flashed her a smile. "Think you'll try yourself after we all inhale this one?"
"As long as Nanalie sticks around to watch." She glanced to her sister-in-law, who nodded, though her eyes flicked upward in a half roll. "Sorry, Nan. I just don't want to fall into any bad habits."
"I'm sure you won't. You're as good a baker as any."
Had nodded in agreement, and if the spark in face meant anything, not just because he was supposed to. Still, she wasn't quite reassured. It wasn't every day that Lord Severin was looking for a new head pastry cook, after all, and the hours were reasonable and the wages quite good--and for all it was still a little early to be telling even Had, Lyraina suspected they'd have another mouth to feed before the year was up. A flexible job with decent earnings would go far.
Not that Had didn't make enough to support the family on his own. And not that they didn't have a strong family that would be willing to help them if they needed it. But what could she say? There was a certain satisfaction in work, at least if it was work one enjoyed. Raia managed both the toy business and Little Rio and she was as happy as Lyraina had ever seen her. Aerina helped out at her mother's shop more days than she didn't, Nanalie and Garrett had passed over a kitchen staff in favor of cooking for themselves, even Lady Leonora sold a few whittlings by means of her brother. If they could find the time for everything--if they could have it all--who was to say Lyraina couldn't aspire to that as well?
Other than, of course, the panel of hungry keep residents. "Not as good as you."
"We won't know that until we've all had a slice of each cake. Besides, you were paying attention while I was making mine, and I didn't have to teach you any new techniques; icing aside, I'll be surprised if there's much difference at all."
Lyraina scanned her sister-in-law's face for some tell-tale sign of a lie. If it was there, she never caught it. "You think so?"
"She knows so," Had corrected as his sister nodded, resting his hand on Lyraina's own. "We all do."
NEXT CHAPTER:
June 9, 1173
"Aww, look at you!" A silly grin broke on Lyraina's mother's lips as she tickled the baby's belly. Poor woman would probably never forgive herself for missing her grandson's birth. Lyraina didn't blame her for it--her new little sister had caught that nasty cough that had been wreaking havoc on the babies back in Armion, and naturally their mother had been preoccupied with her--but it was always tougher to forgive oneself. "Look at you, with your big blue eyes--just like your grandpa!"
"Hence the name, Mother." Lyraina kissed Halford's brow and bounced him once, meriting what she'd come to realize was a delighted squeal. She'd never been one of those girls who cooed over babies and Lord knew she'd always hated having to look after her own little siblings, but having a child of her own was different. She wasn't sure why, but after all those months spent worrying that it would just be the same damn thing over again, it was a relief.
"And it's a good one." Her mother stepped back, black eyes alight, smiling without having to smile as she often did. "I'm sure he's very happy right now."
He was. She wasn't sure how she knew that, but she did. Somewhere, on some not-so-distant cloud, her father was looking down, seeing through the roof, making eyes at his new little namesake. Now there was a man who could have smiled without smiling--not that he'd ever not smiled.
"Did you want to stay for supper, Mother? Had was going to get a chicken from his father's coop on his way back from the village."
"Tempting, but I'll have to decline." She looked down at her grandson and winked. "I have my own baby at home, you know--she needs to be fed too."
Lyraina smirked. Her mother was a knight's wife and therefore a lady, but she was still the same stubborn old Goodwife Diarn everyone knew and loved. A wet nurse for Riona wasn't out of the question, but her mother insisted on taking care of that herself--'A wet nurse wouldn't do it right.'
As if there was a right way to nurse a baby. Just as long as it got fed, wasn't that right? Then again, she thought she understood. It wasn't about technique. She wouldn't have felt right about some other woman nursing her baby either. Maybe that was silly of her--it surely wasn't wrong to take on a wet nurse--but it could have been just a preference, and if she thought hard enough, she could guess at her mother's reasoning. It wasn't too different from her own. Maybe they were more alike than she'd ever thought.
"Well, I should probably be going," her mother announced, waving once more Halford's way. "Give my best to your husband, Lyri. Also, I left you a present."
"A present?" She hoisted her son back up to her shoulder and watched as her mother made her way into the corridor. Of all the things she had come to expect from her mother's visits, presents certainly weren't at the top of the list. "Why? What is it?"
Her mother shrugged, not even bothering to turn around. "You'll know it when you see it."
As the light footfalls fell on the steps and the floor below and faded from earshot entirely, Lyraina could only ponder. Her mother had dashed into the master bedroom for a moment, hadn't she? Surely she'd left whatever it was in there? But before her curiosity got the best of her, she heard the front door open, Had calling for her. She took the baby downstairs and played with the two men in her life while the cook fixed supper, then savored the scrumptious meat before feeding Halford once more, and before she knew it, the evening had passed her by.
It wasn't until she went to put the baby down for the night that she found the strip of green fabric lying in his crib.
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 5, 1172
"What the hell, Had?" Lyraina broke into a grin as she rounded into the reception area from the corridor. "You don't need to dress up in your best tunic for a social call, you idiot."
Had smirked. This was his girl. Her cinnamon hair might have hung loose and her new day gown was nicer than the ones his sisters wore on Sundays, but she was still the same old Lyraina--blunt, fancy-free, and playfully insulting. "You're one to talk about dressing up."
She shrugged. "What can I say? Sir Tarien spoils us--Hilla has an even fancier dress."
"I'm sure." He watched the edged of her bleached linen under-dress sweep across the hardwood as she strode toward him; not sure he could wait, he stepped forward himself and met her in the middle. "So, any idea when he's going to officially become your stepfather?"
Amused, Lyraina snorted. "If you like your head attached your neck, never ask my mother that."
"I don't have to; I'm sure she has plenty of fancy new dresses too?"
"Oh, she does." She placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed herself against him; he took a chance to indulge in the flowery scent of her hair before she drew back a few inches and met his eye. "She's too proud to wear them, though."
Had chuckled to himself. It was a clear picture in his mind--a great fine castle, six children and their grandmother all dressed like lords while their mother sat scowling in her same old peasant dress. "That's our Arydath. Anyway, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh?" Her teasing grin flattened somewhat. He wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or not; on one hand, she might have assumed something worse and would be pleasantly surprised, or she knew exactly what he was here about and she wasn't going to take it well.
But he supposed he wouldn't know until he'd said his piece, so he swallowed his pride and took hold of her hand. "Well... you know that my father's been quite prosperous these past few years, right?"
Lyraina nodded. Inhaling deeply, Had stepped back and looked her over; either her body language was indecipherably neutral, or he didn't know her as well as he liked to think he did. "Well, I've been helping him, and he's been giving me a bit of a wage, and he said if I liked, I might move into this little house he owns a couple minutes down from his barn--get away from my bratty little siblings for a while."
At the mention of 'bratty little siblings', she gave an appreciative snicker. He took that as a good omen and continued. "So, I was wondering... maybe you'd want to live there with me? I actually talked to your mother about this a few months back, but then the fire happened and you ended up living here and I didn't know if you'd want to leave your castle just for me. But I did some thinking, and really--" he reached forward and ran his fingers through her hair, relieved to find that she didn't flinch "--we could be living in some godforsaken cave somewhere for all I care; as long as you're there, it'll be a castle."
Of all the stupid things to say! Where the hell had that even come from? Had felt an uncomfortable blush wreak havoc on his face as Lyraina drummed her fingers against his shoulder. "Is this a proposal?"
Sheepish, he curled his mouth into a small grin. "I guess it is. Anyway, I understand if you want some time to--"
She didn't let him finish. "Uh... Lyraina? That would be my ass..."
"I know." A mischievous twinkle in her eye, she bent down and let her fingers spider their way down his thigh to his fossa; his jerked shut in response to the tickling. "I figured since you just proposed to me, you wouldn't care if I grabbed it; you can grab my ass if you want."
Awkward and dazed and his heart skipping beats, Had placed a shaking, tentative hand on Lyraina's thigh, only for her to take hold of his wrist and maneuver it around to the back; for such a thin girl, her posterior was surprisingly well-formed. "So... is that a yes?"
"What do you think, chowderhead?"
Her smile said enough. It was nice to know that after all these years, he was fluent enough in the language of Lyraina not to need a proper sort of answer. "I love you."
"I know you do."
Bliss, he figured, hadn't existed before then--not for him anyway, not like this. He ran the back of his hand across the side of her face, her flesh soft and smooth like rose petals. "I can't believe you just agreed to spend the rest of your life with me."
Rolling her eyes, Lyraina sighed. Had he heard her sigh before? Somehow, she made it seem pretty. "That's because you're a moron--but I love you, even if you are stupid and ridiculous and... short."
"Short?" He slung his arms around her form and pulled her closer. "Short? I'm taller than you, you know."
As best she could within his embrace, she shrugged. "Details, details; just shut up and kiss me already."
NEXT CHAPTER:
February 6, 1172
"...and whatever you do, don't leave the house without putting out the fire." Jesus Christ; sometimes, Cord could swear that his sister was far worse than their mother had ever been. "Got that?"
Annoyed, Cord turned his back and Lyraina and picked up the poker off the floor, giving one of the logs in the hearth a nudge. "God, Lyri, I'm not a baby; I've been home alone hundreds of times."
"That doesn't make me trust you any more." She quickly tousled his hair, then breezed toward the door, the rim of the cloak Sir Tarien had given her sweeping across the floorboards as she went. "I'll probably be the last one home--Grandmother and the children should be back soon, and then Mother and Hilla. Goodbye, Cord!" And with one last patronizing glance, she twirled out the door and pulled it shut behind her. Cord rolled his eyes; at least she was Had's problem for the rest of the day.
Poor Had. He wasn't so bad. How was it that he'd fallen for a girl like Cord's bossy, loud-mouthed sister? There must have been a hundred other girls in the area Had could have gone for. Why not Evera? She was nice. Or Riala--she was fun. Or Aerina--she was cute. Lord Severin's younger three daughters were probably fair game, seeing as the eldest had married a gentleman without any protest from her father. Maybe Had needed to find someone more like one of his sisters--someone exotic and fascinating like Evaleith, or someone industrious and fancy-free like Nanalie. Or maybe someone like Asalaye.
Asalaye. Petite, startling-eyed, deliciously quirky little Asalaye. How was it that Melria's annoying little stepsister had suddenly become so majestic a creature? He'd always liked Melria--she was a good girl, stable and content--but that fondness seemed to pale beside the infatuation that had risen in its place. He hadn't even kissed her yet and already she flashed before his eyes with stunning regularity--her filling hips, her ample lips, her long brown pigtails in the breeze...
Horrified, Cord spun hastily toward the door whipping the poker across the room in the process. Asalaye! All that thinking about her, and he'd still managed to forget that they had arranged to meet in the afternoon--idiot!
Not even thinking to go and get his cloak, Cord burst through the door and hurried off in the direction of the village. He would be on time--he would. Right now, there was nothing more important than being on time.
NEXT CHAPTER:
March 2, 1171
"Done!" declared Hilla in triumph as she slipped the last pin into Lyraina's hair. "Doesn't she look pretty, Ma?"
Some odd years ago, before the twins were born, Hilla had decided that Lyraina was 'the pretty sister'. Lyraina had protested this fervently, but to no avail; when Hilla made up her mind, it was a done deal. Not that Hilla let her suppositions hold her back though--indeed, since the notion had motivated her to hone her sense of style and absorb everything she could learn about fashions and hair-care, surely her efforts had given her a step up even if she hadn't been the prettier sister by birth.
In any case--she was prettier, Hilla was prettier, the twins had both of them beaten, whatever--Lyraina was glad that at least one of them knew how to doll oneself up; she didn't care much about how she looked most of the time, but every once in a while, there came an occasion for which Hilla's talents came in handy.
From the bed, their mother gave a quick glance and an approving nod; wherever Hilla got her passion for the pursuit of beauty from, it hadn't been industrious, low-maintenance Goodwife Diarn. "Very nice, both of you."
Though far from distant, their mother had not been the most involved of parents since they'd reached the age at which they could be mostly independent--after all, she had things to do and so did they. For the most part, Lyraina and her siblings didn't have a problem with this, and it even became a further advantage on nights when the young people would gather in some field and dance and drink and laugh unsupervised. Evera and Alyssin, Lyraina knew, had told their parents that they were spending the night at Eilyssa's house--likewise, Eilyssa's parents would think she was at Evera and Alyssin's. Lyraina and Hilla had never had to make such arrangements, though, as their mother was quite lax about such things and saw no harm in the occasional bout of youthful hi-jinx.
As if to further prove this, she winked. "Is Had going to be there, Lyri?"
Lyraina exchanged a quick look with her sister, then laughed. "After all that time Hilla spent yanking my hair around, he'd better be!"
"Oh, I don't mind," Hilla insisted. "If I hadn't done yours, I would've just done my own again, and I like the way mine turned out."
She rolled her eyes; she sometimes forgot that her sister was still young enough to miss the occasional bit of sarcasm. Fortunately, she was spared the awkwardness of having to explain that by a knock at the door. "Cord's probably wondering what's taking us so long--stupid boy." She glanced over her shoulder and smirked. "You can come in if you like."
"Oh, don't mind if I do," came the voice of a man--a man surely older than their thirteen-year-old brother--from the other side.
Hilla grinned. "Sir Tarien!"
"At your service, ladies," he announced himself as he stepped into the bedroom. Lyraina felt herself smiling; she'd at first pretended to warm up to the knight in order to annoy her mother, but she found she'd taken a genuine liking to the man. "I must say, all of you look ravishing today--and not only the ones making an effort, I must say."
Lyraina turned around just in time to see him send a wink her mother's way; it was returned with a raised brow. "So now that you're used to just barging into my house whenever you please, you want to further test the boundaries and waltz into my bedroom uninvited?"
"Ah, but I was invited!" he protested with a nod Lyraina's way. "You mean to say that you didn't invite me--this time."
"This time?" Lyraina's mother snorted. "Don't get your hopes up."
Sir Tarien smirked. "On the contrary, my hopes are heading downward--something else, however, might defy gravity on such an occasion."
"Don't talk about your cock in front of my girls."
"Who said anything about my cock?" He raised his finger and waved it about in mock-scolding. "What I meant was that my whole being would be simply over the moon; my God, Arydath, you do have a dirty mind."
She stuck out her tongue. "That would be 'Goodwife Diarn' to you, shitbrain."
"And that would be 'Sir Tarien' to you, Goodwife Diarn--but if you happen to be partial to nicknames, I suppose 'shitbrain' will suffice until you can come up with something more fitting."
"And what, pray tell, could be more fitting than that?"
"Oh, don't mind her!" Lyraina interrupted before Sir Tarien could reply with another flirtatious remark; she could tell that her mother was getting agitated, although she did suspect that the woman was more fond of him than she cared to admit. "She's anxious from fretting about what horrible trouble we might get into at the dance tonight."
A puzzled frown broke on her mother's face; Sir Tarien, however, laughed. "You don't say--no wonder you're all dressed up! Do you have a sweetheart, sweetheart?"
"She does," Hilla answered for her. "His name is Had, and he's a gentleman's son."
The knight gave an approving nod. "Very nice--and how about yourself, love?"
The younger sister beamed mischievously. "Oh, I like to think there's enough of me to go around."
"It's true--she'll have a dance with every boy there and they'll all be begging for more."
"I believe it." He cocked his head to the side and closed his eyes. "Know why?"
"No." Hilla laced her arm through Lyraina's and rested her head on her shoulder. "Why?"
"I'll tell you--it's because you've got character." Sir Tarien leaned back and surveyed them, a fond, almost proud look in his eye. "Both of you. You're beautiful girls, but a lot of beautiful girls turn out very dull--not you two, though." He took Hilla's hand and kissed it, then did the same with Lyraina's; it was nothing like when Had kissed her there, but a warm feeling lingered all the same. "You've got that something special."
"Yes, that's all very well and good, but I'm afraid all this 'something special' will be on its way soon," sneered their mother from the bed. "The girls and their brother will want to be there before sunset, so they'll have to leave in a few minutes--and then you'll have no reason to stay."
Sir Tarien took one look at her, then shook his head. "Not true; where do you think they get that something special from?"
Lyraina's mother sniffed. "The same place from which you should be getting a hint--now, as I have to tell you every week, get out of my goddamn house."
NEXT CHAPTER:
November 22, 1168
Had nudged the log with the poker and tilted it toward the back of the hearth, a small spray of sparks bursting from the fire--then, within seconds, it was as if they had never existed. And yet, the fire kept on burning. Maybe that was how God saw people.
Hell, the way these past few years had gone, Had was starting to see people that way too. That couldn't have been a good sign. His father had a favorite joke in which he made note of his own cynicism and warned Had never to start thinking that way. Had didn't think his father was as cynical as he claimed to be, but with thoughts like that, he was beginning to wonder about himself. He hoped his father couldn't read minds; the man would've been disappointed with what he saw.
"Thank you for putting on the fire, Had," Lyraina's grandmother acknowledged from a few feet back. "You're always such a help around the house." She often told him that, but up until a few weeks ago, she had always concluded with a scornful 'unlike my good-for-nothing son-in-law'. Needless to mention, she didn't say that anymore. She would probably never say it again.
"My pleasure, Goodwife Fedurin." Had jabbed the log once again. Was this how it felt to be God? Creating a multitude of sparks only to watch as they vanished into nothingness? Uneasy, Had took to christening them: the duke, Lady Alina, Goodman Diarn, his own mother...
The older woman allowed him the brief courtesy of a forced smile, then turned around and headed into the children's bedroom. Lyraina's three youngest siblings were ill with a nasty cough that was going around, Cord was outside tending to the pigs, and Hilla had accompanied their mother to the market; with Goodwife Fedurin now gone, Had and Lyraina were alone.
As Goodwife Fedurin began to soothe the coughing children in the next room, Had put down the poker and turned to face Lyraina. "How are you holding up?" He was worried about her. She'd been so stoic since her father's passing--she had to be. She had to be strong for her mother and grandmother, and especially for her siblings. Had knew this for a fact. He himself had been the same way for a while after his mother died. He'd kept a brave face during the days, and then again during the nights, helping his father with the animals and tucking his siblings into bed; and then, whenever he had a moment to himself, he would shed a few of those pent-up tears.
Lyraina lived in a smaller house than he did. He didn't know when she might get a chance to be alone.
She pulled herself to her feet and looked him in the eye, her lashes flickering as the moisture welled behind them. Embarassed, she let her face collapse into her hands and choked. The sound was not unlike that of a stifled sob.
Had kissed the side of her brow and wrapped his arms around her. Lyraina was constantly teasing him because she was bigger than he was. He'd never thought she could seem so small.
NEXT CHAPTER:
