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September 6, 1200
"Still willing to visit your old stepmother after all these years. How sweet of you to come all this way."
Severin tried to return the smile as he sat down on the empty half of the bench. It wasn't like the last time he'd seen his mother, when he'd been shocked and unsettled by the sight of her so suddenly fallen--nor was it like the last time he'd seen his father, aware that it was least possible that he was dying, but still not quite believing it.
But now, with Viridis... well, it made sense that the death of the second parent would be faced with more grounding than that of the first. That trend would only continue for those lucky few who had a third. This was the last time he'd ever see her. There was no way he couldn't have visited.
"You were always more than a stepmother to me. You're more like a second mother."
"And you're more like a son to me than a stepson. My feelings toward both your parents were complicated at the time, but that was never the case with you; I loved you since the day you were born."
She had. And he'd always known that. He took hold of her hand and squeezed it. It was cold now, old and shaking, but it was still the same strong hand that he'd grasped by the finger as he'd figured out how to walk. "I think I loved you since the day I was born too."
"Possibly! You were such a happy baby. That was a nice change of pace for me after your brother."
A nice change of pace. For a woman who'd had no obligation to even acknowledge his existence. And she thought his mere being here was 'sweet'.
"I've known a lot of good people--some of whom I didn't really recognize as 'good' until it was too late for them. But I always recognized you as good." How could he not have? A person didn't love a spouse's bastard as their own if there wasn't some goodness in them. "You're the best person I ever knew."
"Oh, I don't know if that's true." She laughed her same modest laugh, the one she always used when she couldn't take a compliment--no matter how sincere that compliment was. "But I'm glad to hear I never did you wrong."
She couldn't have. She'd had no obligation to do him right.
And yet she thought it 'sweet' that he'd visit her in what were likely her last days.
"Not many people are lucky enough to have three parents. Thank you for letting me be one of them."
NEXT CHAPTER:
November 17, 1198
"Well, it's about time you newlyweds pulled yourselves out of your cave and paid us a visit!" Laveria's aunt--now also her mother-in-law--waved her finger in mock-scolding. "I hope he's been doing his fair share of the housework."
"I think the maid's been doing both of our shares," Donnie muttered, earning him a raised brow from his mother. She'd never quite gotten used to having servants at her beck and call--and, even though it was only the maid and the cook at their good-sized-but-not-a-castle house, Laveria doubted she would either. "But I try to pick up after myself, at least?"
Laveria opted to help him out. "He knows better than to expect me to do it for him."
"Good." Her uncle--now also her father-in-law--smirked. "You're the one working in that house, after all. He gets to go out and about as a knight, but when your clients come to you and you've been cooped up there all day, I'm sure the last thing you want to do is clean your own cage."
"It's certainly not a cage--but no, I don't want to clean it."
"Ah, to think of how we'd live without the people who actually do enjoy cleaning! Or are willing to make a job of it, at least. I believe for most of us, those domestic chores fall into exactly that category: necessary, but unpleasant."
"Hence the word 'chores'," her aunt quipped with a wink. "In any case, it looked to be quite a nice house when we were there. The maid's managing well in spite of the two of you?"
Laveria nodded. Her Aunt Alsina had been the one to find the woman actually--and she could expect the nicest of Christmas presents Laveria could manage for several years yet. "She's a godsend. I don't know how she does it."
"She is, but it probably helps that I'm not around most days, and you take clients in the study." Donnie turned to her and winked. They had the same eyes--being cousins twice over would do that--but he somehow managed to do more with them. "And when we are both around, it's not as if we spend that much time outside of the bedroom."
Her in-laws shared a knowing, unsurprised glance. Laveria supposed she ought to have been embarrassed. But, that was the sort of thing one could expect, marrying a Kemorin.
And even if she herself didn't spring from the line of Old Lonriad... well, no one married a Kemorin if they didn't think they could keep up with them.
"That's a fair point."
NEXT CHAPTER:
November 3, 1198
"So..." Nora drummed her fingers together as she stepped back to look her husband over. They'd both lucked out on the aging front, she supposed, but surely he moreso than her, especially considering he was nine years her senior. Her own grandfather had been grey and wrinkled well before he'd been Severin's age. If not for the faint bags beneath his and the slight, stubble-hidden creases around his mouth, he would have been regularly mistaken for one of his sons.
Or hell, these days, one of his older grandsons.
But, looks aside, the two of them weren't immune to the occasional reminder of their age, and the events of today would be one of them. "Any unforeseen tragedies aside, this will be the last wedding any of our children have."
"Not being keen on unforeseen tragedies, I should hope you're right." Severin shook his head, a couple strands of hair breaking free from his ponytail. He rarely wore his hair back, and put tended to put little effort into it on the rare instances that he did, but that only made the occasion of a well-brushed, face-framing hairstyle all the more pleasing. "All of our children will be married. Well... I suppose Thetis isn't married legally, but we know better."
"Indeed." The excuse of 'discouraging would-be harassers' may have satisfied the general public's curiosity toward the gold band, but Thetis had never been subtle about her preferences around those who loved her well. Honora was perhaps more reserved, but Nora would have wagered a tidy sum that Had and Winter were just as aware as she and Severin were.
But it was Donnie's day, not Thetis's--for all it was another shock entirely, considering that Thetis was in fact the youngest. "I don't recall so much time having passing since Donnie needed a table leg in order to stand."
"Not much has, really; that lazy boy wasn't about to bother standing while there was still the chance of someone else carrying him." Severin smirked. "But there's no denying that we're getting old, though I doubt you'll ever look it. I'm three quarters of the way to having as many great-grandchildren as I do children, and I wouldn't give it more than a few years before your oldest granddaughter marries and you join the great-grandparents' club for yourself."
Nora rolled her eyes. Her and Jothein's oldest granddaughter would be finished at the university the spring after next, and she did have a serious suitor. Happy as she would be for young Leonora when the time came, that occasion would no doubt bring with it a handful of mixed emotions. "I feel quite old enough being a step-great-grandmother. But, I suppose there's no sense denying that growing old is a hell of a lot better than the alternative."
"Indeed. Too many die young as it is." Severin took Nora's hands in his, rather more calloused than they'd been on... well, not their wedding day, not when neither of them could claim to remember much of it. But more calloused than they'd been at the almost blasphemously informal mock-ceremony they'd hosted a few days later, certainly.
More calloused--but no less sincere.
"For what it's worth, Nora: I'm quite enjoying myself, growing old with you."
NEXT CHAPTER:
January 17, 1198
"Good Lord! The Queen of Dovia herself, dropping in on my humble self on her first day back!" Severin joked as he hugged and then released Celina. Nora had returned home that morning, so naturally Celina would have been back in Naroni as well, but he'd figured she'd spend the rest of the day recovering from the journey; Nora, at least, had been napping for a good few hours now.
"Oh, you and your nonsense! Nothing has changed."
"Except for your title, of course."
"As if you were ever one for titles! You've had yours for over forty years and you still cringe when people call you by it!" Celina folded her hands, one of her wedding bands obvious on her finger. If it was Oswald's she wore, she'd made a point not to let it feel alien or overwhelming; it was a part of her attire, but far from her whole extraordinary self. "I take it Nora's sleeping? She and Renata were both fairly drained by the end. I'll have to have them over for dinner some time this week, to thank them for coming along as my witnesses."
"Yes, she's asleep--but I'll be sure to mention it if she doesn't wake while you're still here." Dovia wasn't so far away as it had seemed in the early days of Naroni, but physical miles could stretch to emotional leagues. Celina, perhaps, had fared better on the journey than her companions, true to her new role as political bridge-builder.
"Thank you. The least I can do is let Nora have her nap, knowing that poor Renata is now playing host to her grandson."
"Oh?" Severin's brow twitched. Given how few visiting Dovian nobles they had each year, it was a surprise to have the first so soon. "Which grandson? She does have rather a lot of them."
"You're one to talk! But that would be Arkon--Riona's son, the Baron of Rexus. He said he had something to attend to before his classes resumed, though he never said exactly what. Nice enough young man, though, and I suppose it's not any of our business."
Severin smirked. "You're a queen now, Celina; anything can be your business if you only say it is."
"You really did learn everything you know about royalty from Roderick, didn't you?" More queenly than she must have realized, Celina crossed her arms with a stern smile. "But if you insist on making more of this than there actually is, than Her Majesty demands that you fill her in on the recent events around here."
NEXT CHAPTER:
September 30, 1197
"It was good of you to come," Severin's stepmother commended him from the couch, though he didn't find his mere presence a praiseworthy event. The stubborn fire at which he prodded seemed to agree. "I know you and your brother aren't close, and I know your grandson is graduating today."
"Dalston took his vows at the beginning of the month; I was there for that, and he said that was the more important thing." And, in essence... well, that was probably true. But, beyond wishing the boy the best, he didn't much want to think about Dalston's situation.
Nor did he much want to think about Rudolphus's, but at least this one, he could understand.
"The doctors are saying that Rudolphus probably has a good month or so yet; I don't think either of us would have blamed you if you'd waited."
"I might have, though; Naroni isn't so near that I might have rushed over had he taken a sudden turn for the worse." Severin pushed one log off of its balance upon the other, a shower of sparks surging as it hit the metal below. He may not have been close with his half-brother, but they weren't so distant that a lack of goodbyes would have been bearable. Besides--Rudolphus wasn't the only denizen of his keep. He had always been close with Viridis, closer than most were with their stepmothers; if she had to bury her firstborn, the least he could do was stand by her side as Rudolphus took his place beside their father in the crypt. "There's no sense on my visiting Dovia without staying at least a couple weeks. Rudolphus and I weren't always brotherly, but I should like to remedy that while we have the time."
"I think he would like that too--and though perhaps I shouldn't be thinking of myself, it would mean the world to me." Viridis stood, her age apparent in the shaking of her joints as she rose. Eighty-five years were more than most dared wish for; if his attempt at bonding with Rudolphus could fulfill one of her last remaining wishes, then Severin wanted little more than to see it through. He would be at her side when Rudolphus passed. He would not leave until after the funeral. Nora would serve their shire well in his stead, as she always did during his absences--and she would understand.
Severin put down the poker and picked at a splinter in his left forefinger. That could have very well been a message from his father, earned by first picking up the tool with his left hand in his childhood home. It hadn't been until after his father had died that he'd learned he too had been born with the left hand preference. What would he learn about his brother, after his death? "You're allowed to think of yourself. Rudolphus is your son; a parent shouldn't bury their child."
"And you've buried two, and Rudolphus buried one." Viridis sighed. "Perhaps I've been lucky in that sense; I doubt I have many years left myself, and Rudolphus at least lived to be a grandfather several times over."
Lucky. Perhaps--but only in the comparative sense. Severin shook his head. "There's no sense in counting down your own years yet. You're still in good health."
"Yes, perhaps--and I still feel young at heart." Her smile backed up that sentiment as she rubbed him on the shoulder--like she had when he'd been a child, only now reaching upward instead of down. If she still felt young at heart, then Severin envied her. "But I won't delude myself about my mortality at my age. Your father was healthy as a horse until he wasn't, and same with my brother. Same with Rudolphus."
"Hmm. What you and I have to look forward to, I suppose."
"You not for a while yet, I don't think; I know I can't imagine Naroni going on without Severin of Veldora."
"Then it's fortunate that my grandson is also Severin of Veldora." Though here, with his beloved stepmother and her dying son, it was a painful reminder that there ought to have been Jadin in between. "I suppose we both ought to just keep living for now."
NEXT CHAPTER:
August 31, 1197
"So: you're sure about this?" Dalston's grandfather wasted no time in asking after the obligatory greeting embrace. "You're absolutely sure? There's no turning back come tomorrow."
Dalston sighed. He hadn't thought to expect his grandfather to drop by on the day before his vows, but in hindsight, that might have been foolish of him. His grandparents had been on campus for a couple days now, staying at CeeCee and Farilon's house in the village; they had a new little granddaughter to dote over, after all, plus another little granddaughter to placate now that this interloping baby had intruded on her parents' attention. It hadn't been illogical to think that his grandfather would be spending the majority of his stay in the company of Cat and Lena.
But... Dalston was going to be a monk. But his grandfather had a history with the church, very little of it positive. But Dalston had to be a monk.
If there was a better way, one of them would have thought of it by now. "My answer is the same as it was the first time you asked me that."
His grandfather frowned. It wasn't a disappointed frown; no, fighting tooth and nail to keep oneself from harming innocents was rather the opposite of Lord Severin's idea of disappointment. It was... Dalston couldn't quite find the right word. Sorrowful, maybe. Regretful. Sympathetic, apologetic. "I just... I wish there was something else that could be done."
"But there isn't." And there was little more to discuss in the matter--so, Dalston made an attempt to sway it. "I'll never be bored, at least; the monastery's library is an intellectual treasure trove."
"Then it pleases me that you at least love to read, as there's little else to do in such dreary, dogma-bound places. I hope you never tire of the written word."
That was probably the closest his grandfather would ever come to saying that he approved of anyone joining the church. But, for Dalston, there was no alternative worthy of approval. "I doubt I could."
"And you will write, at least? To us, and to your mother and your other grandmother, and your siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins?"
"Of course--though, with our family, that's no small task."
"Then it's a good thing that you'll have little better to do with your time."
Dalston bit his tongue. To a man of the world like his grandfather, a secluded monastery would have been a fate worse than death. Death, at least, could have its surprises.
But this world--the world his grandfather loved and hated, loved to hate and hated to love--held only guilt and torment for Dalston. Purgatory was a destination of no one's choosing, but it was still a step above hell.
"I'll manage."
NEXT CHAPTER:
January 24, 1197
"Queen Celina of Dovia." Severin had to smile at the thought. "Well, no one who knows you could deny that you'd do that title proud."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don't know if I'd feel right about representing a country I haven't lived in for decades."
"And that's fair."
"But I do love Dovia, and I love Naroni. If Oswald's right and I'd be able to reassure the Dovian populace, then that's to the benefit of both nations."
"True." It didn't surprise him that Celina had already put considerable thought into this before consulting him or anyone else. Since they'd been children, her aim had always been to do the right thing, for as many people as possible, and she wasn't the sort to rush in if she couldn't tell what the right thing was. She had to figure it out first. It was a quality Severin had always admired in her, as he himself tended more toward the impulsive.
And if either path could have equal claim to being the ethically 'right' path, then perhaps that was why she'd sought him out first--not that he could help much here. "I don't know if I can tell you anything you haven't already considered. The intent is good, and I believe you'd do everything in your power to carry out that intent. That said, there could be complications, and this wouldn't be the only way to calm the discontent."
"If you could even call it 'discontent'. Oswald didn't seem especially worried--just aware." Celina twisted her wedding ring about her finger. It hadn't been all that long since Ovrean's passing, really, and Severin doubted she'd thought much of marrying again. Then again, she probably hadn't thought of marrying again after Dalston had died either. "Might I ask what you would do in this situation?"
"Oh, Lord. Even if I were currently detached, I'd be shocked if Oswald had any interest in marrying me--and not just because I hog the blankets." He winked at his own joke, but Celina only indulged him with a polite grin. She wanted him to get to the point. Fair enough. "All right. If I were you... hmm. Well, I don't think I'd do it, and not just because I'd go mad at the thought of being monogamous with someone I'd only see once or twice a year. I just don't think I could continue going about my life in Naroni knowing that all of Dovia will be scrutinous of my every move."
Celina nodded. "That they will be."
"That said--I'm not you, and you're not me. Good luck finding ten people in Dovia who prefer me to a pair of old socks, but all these years later and they still hold nothing but love for Princess Wondrona's only daughter. You also now have a granddaughter poised to become the next Countess of Bandera, whose children will inherit her father-in-law's title; it's in your own family's best interests to serve Dovia well."
"You know... I don't think Oswald had considered my granddaughter, oddly enough." That merited a much truer smile than any tasteless joke about sex with Oswald could. "But the people will. Thank you for reminding me of that."
"Not a problem. But whoever else you talk to, just remember that this is your decision, and you're one of my oldest friends, and there are few people in this world whose judgment I trust more than yours." He reached for her hand and squeezed it, as if support could manifest as physical pressure. "Whatever you decide will be the right choice, and my family and I will back you no matter what happens."
NEXT CHAPTER:
September 3, 1194
"Well, well!" Severin pulled his son in for a hug and patted him on the back. "It's about damn time you asked Renata to marry you. Here I was, thinking she'd have to ask the question herself."
"Heh." As the hug broke, Falidor grimaced. "I don't really want to go into the whole story, but technically, I think CeeCee asked us."
"In hindsight, that's even less surprising."
"Mother said the same thing." And yet--Severin knew, and he knew Nora knew--it only would have been a matter of time before Falidor asked if Renata (or CeeCee) hadn't, all jokes aside. "Anyway... we were thinking maybe some time in June? Renata's family will be in Naroni for her graduation anyway."
"I don't see why June wouldn't work. It's a not-unreasonable amount of time after CeeCee and Farilon's wedding, and certainly well before Sev and Rennie's; I don't see much risk of marriage fatigue with that spacing."
"And uh... well, we'll need a bigger place." Falidor grinned sheepishly. He'd been living in one of the family's auxiliary houses since his graduation, and it had suited him well from what Severin could see. But, a bachelor's house was not a family's house, and certainly not a knight's keep.
Certainly not two knights' keep.
"You know, I was thinking: what if you and Renata were to take a castle in Ravenhold? Poor Mernolt is the only knight there so far; Kaldar will be happy to have another two, and I'm sure Alina would convince him to give you your pick of places."
"Hmm. It's true that they're probably lonely out there--and I suppose it could only be in Farilon and my best interests, keeping enough of a distance between our wives that we can still get our own fill of them."
"Not to mention, all three of will you have careers, and Ravenhold could use Sir Falidor and Dame Renata." Veldora probably had all of the knights it needed for now, and no doubt there would be more when his grandsons finished up at the university. At least Arkon and Sevvie and Nato could inherit their fathers' castles. "I can't think of two better defenders for the domain of my eldest granddaughter."
"And your eldest great-granddaughter," Falidor reminded him--because of course he would. "I'll talk it over with Renata. She might find that exciting, such a new territory."
NEXT CHAPTER:
May 14, 1194
"My God." Every once in a while, Severin heard something to which there was no other initial response. What his grandson had just confessed was one such thing. "I... I'm very relieved that you have committed to restraining yourself."
"I have to." Dalston swallowed, a hint of a tear clinging to his eye, fighting not to fall. "I don't want to hurt anybody."
Not once in his life, Severin was sure, had Dalston ever wanted to hurt anybody. Certainly not... like that.
"So I..." His grandson choked. "I've decided to switch my focus to Pre-Asceticism."
Not a decision to be made lightly. A Theology major focusing in Pre-Asceticism was, for all intents and purposes, a novice. It was a difficult thing to turn back after that. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure. I know you're not fond of the church, but I think it's the best option. I couldn't take a wife only to deceive her through our entire marriage. I certainly shouldn't father any children. In the interests of safety, I should be removed from society at large."
"Hmm." He was probably right, and Severin was torn about whether he wanted to admit that. It wasn't like learning that Searle enjoyed the company of men, or that Thetis preferred the company of women. Men and women were, at least, adults. "I certainly don't want your life to be any more difficult than it has to be. If you believe that becoming a monk would be the right call, I'll trust your judgment. But, if you change your mind, I'll make every effort to help you keep control."
"I appreciate that, but I don't think there's anything you can do. I've already been to Aunt Aerina for, uh... libido-repressing herbs. Told her I was being distracted from my studies." Given the situation, that couldn't have been a lie. "They worked at first, but I think I'm starting to develop a tolerance."
"I see." A damn pity that was. How damn horrible it all was. "How do you wish to proceed, then? Will you announce your intention to join the church soon?"
"I think that would be for the best. Wolf might need time to adjust to being the new heir." Yes--Wolf was the one they had to worry about. "He'll make a better lord than I would have anyway."
"A different lord, at least." Though, better in the sense that he would be able to produce heirs of his own without... those particular concerns. "All right. We'll meet with him in the morning, then tell the rest of the family."
"But they don't need to know the reason, do they?"
"No. Not as long as you control yourself." There were no children on campus. There would be no young novitiates at whatever monastery Dalston chose.
Neither of them would stand for any slip-ups. "Keep controlling yourself."
NEXT CHAPTER:
October 1, 1193
"Oh, good. I was starting to think I'd missed you entirely."
Alina gave her grandfather a polite smile, but she couldn't help but dwell on the wasted day. Her wedding was in two weeks and she still didn't have a dress. She'd spent the afternoon shopping with Riala and Maddie--not her favorite pastime, but a necessity, and a welcome distraction for her recently-widowed sister--and if anything, she was even further from finding a gown! Every seamstress she'd seen had bombarded her with fabrics and cuts and colors she'd never even heard of. So many options almost made few, especially with only two weeks left for preparation.
"It's good to see you, Grandfather--though I wish I could say so after having accomplished my goal for the afternoon."
"Ah, yes. The wedding dress. Your mother was saying as much." Her grandfather nodded, almost half-winking to her mother as he stood.
"I know my opinion as an old man is worth nothing in the realm of wedding attire, but I hope you aren't too worried about it. You'll look stunning in whatever you wear."
Alina sighed. "I wasn't worried about it until the wedding was a month away, and that's precisely the problem."
"Ah. Well, if it helps take your mind off things, I brought you an early wedding present."
Alina doubted any wedding present could supply much distraction from the persistent lack of dress. But, to in spite of it, her mother rose from her seat and tilted her eyes toward the staircase.
"It's in your room. You really should take a look at it."
"My room." Alina sniffed. Her old room was now Sev's, since it was the largest and he'd be the only one who ever had to live here after his marriage. While she and Kaldar kept apart for appearances' sake, she was stuck in Sev's old room, now Viridia's room, while a grouchy Viridia bunked with Lonria. Granted, the room probably had the best view in the house, but it was hardly of a sufficient size for a woman grown. "Right."
But she headed up anyway, brushing some hair out of her face as she shut the door behind her. She turned around and caught site of something blue upon the bed. Something of a rather finer material than the blanket.
*
"My God!" Alina's mother grinned as she stepped back into the sitting room. "You look beautiful, darling."
"Thank you." She indulged herself in a quick twirl about. It was unlike her to be so giddy over a new piece of clothing, but she'd never owned something so fine. "Grandfather, where did you find this?"
He smiled--a bittersweet smile. "It was your grandmother's."
Alina's arm dropped from her hip. Her grandmother had died several years before her birth, and all she'd ever known of her had been the stories of a graceful red-haired beauty who'd gone too soon. The dress was a concrete proof of the fabled woman's presence that she hadn't quite expected. Her presence, and the preciousness of the thing. "Oh. Oh, Grandfather... I don't know if I can take this. Shouldn't it be Mother's first?"
"It's a little fancy for me," her mother insisted with a wink. "Besides--I'm not the one who needs a wedding dress."
Her wedding dress? She flushed. She felt instantly stupid for not having considered that. "You think I should wear this?"
"Absolutely." Her grandfather stepped up to her, taking her by the shoulders and kissing her brow. "You are your grandmother's first grandchild, and the first granddaughter to bear her name. I believe she would have wanted you to have it."
"Does Shahira mind?" Perhaps it was a straw-grasping question, but her cousin had been the first of the grandchildren to be married.
"I talked to her. She said that the dress deserves more ceremony than she'd had at her wedding anyway. That, and your build is closer to your grandmother's." He put his hands to his hips and looked her over, glad and sad and wistful all at once. "Please, Alina; it would mean so much to me and your mother and your aunts and uncles if you wore it. It's about time that dress belonged to the living again."
Belong to the living.
How did a person argue with that?
"Thank you, Grandfather."
NEXT CHAPTER:
