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May 24, 1187
"You know, it occurs to me that I haven't been at my house for a few days."
And it was not the first time in recent months Nythran could have said it. Since he'd finally worked up the nerve to court Cherry, he and Haldred had spent more nights than not at her house. Haldred had more or less taken over one of the spare rooms, and Nythran... was also sleeping in a spare room. As far as anyone else knew, anyway. Though it had been going on long enough that Farilon next door might have been suspicious had this been the sort of thing he paid attention to.
But really? Nythran couldn't pretend to care what Farilon or anyone else might have thought, at least of him personally. For the first time, in a long time, someone other than his son had managed to make him happy.
He was in love.
It wasn't a thing he'd thought he'd feel again.
"Of course you haven't. You still haven't even unpacked since you moved there. Hell, more of your stuff is here than there." Cherry squeeze his hand and turned her head for a quick peck to his stubble. He wasn't sure how her lips could stand it, but she'd stopped him shaving the one time he'd tried. Probably a good thing, given the shape of his chin. "You might as well just give Raia the house back and move in here."
"Tempting, but I'd prefer not to tarnish your reputation." The poor woman got enough questions, being twenty-six and never married. But having been married himself at fourteen--married to a girl only six months older than he, who'd died birthing a baby she may not have been big enough for--twenty-six did not seem too old in the slightest.
"What reputation?" Cherry smirked, a sunfire lock of hair flicking at his hand. "Nythran, it makes no sense, a perfectly good house just sitting there. Raia could give it to someone else."
"I suppose. Still, I'm reluctant to do that to you."
"Sweet of you, but I really don't mind." She didn't--he was sure of it. Still. "What if we got married? Would you move in then?"
Nythran's heart twitched. That wasn't an idea he'd thought he'd hear again. "What are you asking?"
"You heard." Cherry slung her legs across Nythran's thighs and bounced herself into his lap. "Don't embarrass me by saying you've never thought about it."
"I have thought about it." More than anything! But-- "Isn't it a little soon, though? A little impulsive?"
"Not for me, it isn't. I'm almost twenty-seven; if I'd wanted to marry impulsively, I could have done so ten times over by now. I was lucky enough to be raised knowing I didn't need a man, so I held out for one I actually wanted--knew I wanted." She leaned into him, nuzzling the tip of her nose against his own beak. "That's you, silly. I've known I wanted you for a while now."
Huh. He could have lived to be a thousand and not once would he have thought a woman would feel that way about him. Learianna had loved him, and he her, but it had been a different love--a cultivated love, grown from years of childhood friendship and the knowledge that they'd one day be man and wife. Not inherently worse, but different.
Nythran didn't mind different. "I've known I wanted you for a while now too."
"Then let's not wait any longer." The nuzzle slipped down to a kiss, and then she pulled back, beaming. "You and Haldred go home and get on your good tunics. I'll put on my best dress, then grab Farilon to witness, and we'll meet the two of you at the chapel."
He nearly laughed--but there wasn't a joke in her eye. Not that he minded, but hadn't she just said...? "Right now? I thought you didn't want to do this impulsively."
"I said I didn't want an impulsive marriage." She drew herself up from his lap and took him by the hand, pulling him to his feet. "I didn't say anything about an impulsive wedding."
NEXT CHAPTER:
February 15, 1186
"A butter-churn? Really?" Cherry leaned back, unsure of whether or not Nythran was joking. The man did have a sense of humor--even if it required some digging--but so far as she'd seen, exaggeration didn't play much of a part in it. Pulling stuff straight from his ass? Even less. "There is no way anyone at the training grounds ever went up against one of the dummies with a butter-churn."
"Believe me, it happened." She squinted for a better read of his eyes. He was amused, sure--but not in that deceitful, practical joker sort of way. She thought, at least. She hadn't known him all that long, so maybe... "He couldn't have been taking himself seriously, but he did a good job of hiding it. Had some skill with that thing, too; twirling it about, striking from a distance, even minding it during dodge rolls. He said that next time, he'd try an oar."
"Really."
"All right, I made up the part about the oar. He actually left without a word." Much to the dismay of everyone else there, if this had in fact happened. "But the rest is all true, I swear it."
"Uh-huh."
"Really." His smile widened. Whenever she saw that grin, she was reminded quite thoroughly of a crack in a rock--a cute crack in a cute rock, but a crack in a rock nonetheless. "You know, I like that we've been able to meet for these talks. Pity that we both work so much, though."
Whether he'd been kidding or not before, there was nothing less than honesty in his eyes now. How on earth did a color like that exist in nature? All the pigment in the world and she couldn't have made a paint so blue. "I've been enjoying your company too."
"Maybe if you have a break in your day, you could swing by the training grounds. There's always a chance I'll be unoccupied."
"Or that I'll get to see someone kicking the crap out of a dummy with a butter-churn." She'd meant to be sarcastic, but the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to see that. "It's a definite possibility."
"Great." That smile again. Was there something wrong with her if she wanted to take that smile home with her?
Then again, perhaps she could. "Would you be interested in sitting for a portrait?"
"One of your paintings?" No, just a doodle in the dust on my mantle. But she'd grant that the question may have caught him off-guard. "That's... huh. Not something I ever thought I'd be asked, to be honest. I'm not exactly handsome."
"Maybe not conventionally so, but I've made uglier people than you look beautiful--not that I think you're ugly." She reached across the table, giving him a reasonable chance to recoil but he never took it. So, she rested her hand on his. His face may have been rocky, but his skin was indisputably organic. "I just want to help the rest of the world see what I see."
Nythran chuckled, though he felt some need shift his gaze to some point over her shoulder. She didn't mind, though; that meant she caught a sight of a blush. "Then I hope what you see is mostly favorable."
NEXT CHAPTER:
October 26, 1185
"Sorry about the state of the place. I've been working and Haldred has school, so we haven't bothered to do much with it yet."
"It looks fine," Cherry insisted. Sure, Nythran's place may have been sparse--furnished only with what the university had provided--but it could have been messy, or even gross. It was by no means unfit for company. Hell, it was probably a better hosting space than her own house, where art supplies reigned supreme. "Perfectly liveable. I don't see why it shouldn't suffice for a cup of tea."
"I suppose." His mouth twitched, an odd kind of grimace with some real smile underneath. It was the same smile he gave her every time their eyes met through their kitchen windows. He may have been a combat expert, but he had no less capacity for nervousness than any other man--perhaps more, having grown up with a monster like Felron for a brother. "I'm sorry I didn't invited you sooner."
"Stop apologizing. I haven't been exactly neighborly in that regard myself. Just ask Farilon if your observations aren't enough." Though, now that she thought about it, she hoped he wouldn't. Farilon probably had the tact not to mention her one good neighbor moment--Lord knew he at least had the consideration for young CeeCee--but he didn't always have the best grasp on what was or wasn't socially appropriate. "We're all lone wolves here. Our jobs are our lives."
"I find that hard to believe of a pretty young woman like yourself." He blushed. Well, that explained his nerves. "Er, if you don't mind my saying."
"I don't. And I suppose I do have friends." She wouldn't say any more--not until she got a better read of him. He wasn't the first man to show an interest, but Cherry had never been the sort who wanted someone just to have someone. She had the skills and smarts to provide for herself, like every woman did--and unlike an unfortunate many of them, no one had ever convinced her otherwise. She didn't think it impractical to be selective husband-wise; a lousy husband was a far worse fate than no husband at all. "And you have your son."
"I do have my son, thank God. The women feared he'd follow his dear mother, but he rallied back and has been going strong ever since. I like to think my Anna had something to do with that."
"She must have been a wonderful woman."
"That she was." A cloudy haze cast over his eyes, but he wore not a frown but a fond grin. Given Haldred's age, Nythran's wife had been gone a long time--long enough for mourning to have melted to loving remembrance. Not for the first time, she wished someone would invent some instant picture device. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to capture that look, to take it home with her and put it to canvas.
Perhaps she might ask him to model for her at some point. He had an interesting face--rocky and angular and with a chin like an anvil. He wasn't handsome, but that made him beautiful.
"But enough about my sorrows. Tell me: why do they call you Cherry?"
"Oh, that's a long, complicated story involving a faulty aphrodisiac, a line of novelty hats, and a swallow that thought it was a falcon. Afternoon tea just won't be enough time to cover it all."
"Then perhaps we'll make time when we can."
"I won't rule out the possibility." Not yet, at least.
"The tea should be ready soon. Care to sit down?" He gestured to the benches behind him. They weren't unlike the ones she herself had, and many others. A popular style in Naroni.
"All right."
He sat himself down on the nearer bench, on the end closer to the other--probably wanting to leave her the choice of whether to sit next to him, or to sit on the other bench without feeling rude. Just to be on the safe side, Cherry picked the other bench.
He kept on smiling. She was relieved to see he didn't take offense. "You know, I'm glad you were free this afternoon. It's been quite a long time since I had a social conversation with an adult who wasn't family."
A pity, that. It didn't have to be a sorrow to be alone, but it always was to be lonely.
She met his eye and returned the grin. "If it helps, I trust it won't be long before your next."
NEXT CHAPTER:
September 23, 1184
"No. I cannot allow it." And not one feature on Felron's face suggested that he knew that this wasn't his business to allow. Had this behavior not been the plague of the family since the day he'd left the womb, Nythran might have found amusement in his brother's delusion. "I've already lost one brother to that godforsaken Sodom. I can't afford to lose you as a knight."
"I'm Oswald's knight, and he said I could do as I please. Besides, Father and I talked it over before he died, and Mother thinks I ought to go." If anything, their mother probably wanted to go with him, but she was too good a soul to leave Xetrica alone with Felron. "My son is getting older, Felron. If I still want a fresh start for the both of us, I have to act now, before he's a man grown."
"Hmph. Serves you right, marrying an Andronei."
"Can we not bring Anna's family into this? Let the dead rest." After all those years of healing, it felt good to finally be able to say that out loud. No doubt Learianna, wherever she was, thought it was about time he moved on. "I'm going to Naroni. The university wants to provide continuing training programs for squires and young knights, and Lady Rahileine has offered me the contract. I've already signed it and sent it back, and by the time I arrive, there will be a house prepared for Haldred and me. Nothing in your power can make me stay."
And it may have been killing him. No matter. Felron wasn't Nythran's problem any more. "I can't believe you'd rather live under the thumb of some trumped-up Kemorin woman than as a knight to your own brother."
"Like I said, I was never your knight." And I'd rather live under the thumb of a giant slime monster than as knight to you. "Oswald has agreed to designate my territory for Lornian, so that saves you both the trouble of redrawing boundaries when he earns his knighthood. I'll give your regards to Garrett and Valira."
"Don't bother. I haven't had so much as a Christmas letter from either of them in years."
Well, isn't that one of the great mysteries of our time? "Fine. I'll simply give them my own." For everyone's sake, he chose not to mention Rina. If she asked at all about her father when they next met, he'd tell her what he thought. One of the great perks of Naroni was that it was far enough away that few of Felron's eggshells littered the ground.
"If you insist, though I can't see why you'd bother." But whatever explanation there was for that, Nythran was spared the agony of listening by the steward's knock. "What is it?"
"Someone here to see you, my lord." No doubt missing their father, old Gandry tripped a bit with the last word. Lucky that Felron hadn't caught it. "Some kid with a bit of an accent. Probably a new tenant."
"A kid on his own. An orphan sniffing around for charity, no doubt." Felron's nostrils flared in compensation for the drawing mouth beneath. "Send him in. I'd much rather shatter his delusions in person."
NEXT CHAPTER:
