In Which Raia's Knowledge Is Contradicted

October 13, 1168

The circumstances that had brought Raia to Falidor's house before the crack of dawn and in the unyielding rain were anything but light, but nevertheless, she had to chuckle to herself at the sight of him--sprawled on the couch, boots and all, snoring so loudly that it was a miracle his children weren't up and crying. "Kicked out of bed again, Soldier?"

As light a sleeper as he'd ever been, the steward rubbed his eyes and pried himself upwards, only to stare at her with a fond sort of annoyance--or perhaps an annoyed sort of fondness. "How the hell did you get in here? Did my wife leave the door unlocked when she left for her morning romp with the baker?"

Raia shook her head. "I picked the lock as soon as she was out of sight. If it makes you feel any better, I locked it again when I came in."

"It really doesn't, but thank you anyway," Falidor acknowledged, picking at his wedding band not unlike Raia would sometimes pick at the scabs on her knees. "But why are you here, exactly? And don't think I'm dumb enough to believe you just want to visit at this hour; you haven't been an early riser a day in your life."

"And neither have you," she reminded him, "but the point stands. Anyway, I know that my father gave you the day off, but I really think you should work today."

Falidor yawned; if Raia knew him at all, he liked to move to the bed if he woke between the hour Ailede left and the hour he himself did. "And why would you think that?"

"It's tax day."

"That's probably why he gave me the day off," he insisted. "It's no secret that I'm no good with numbers, even on the off-chance that a human abacus such as your father actually did need some help."

Shaking her head, Raia set herself down on the vacant half of the bench and looked him in the eye; perhaps it had been the light, but she'd never noticed all the subtle teals and indigos amongst that soft blue. "It's not the arithmetic I'm worried about. I need you to keep an eye on him and make sure he actually gets through everything instead of sneaking off to fuck maids in the wine cellar."

The steward sighed--he was well past the point where he found it shocking that Raia knew that word. "Raia, ever since your mother died, your father has existed in one of two states: the state of moping around, and the state of sleeping around. At least with the sleeping around, he actually gets things done."

"He did at first," she agreed, "but it's getting ridiculous. He thinks he needs sex to function, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy to the point where he thinks he needs a dozen lays for every minute of moderate productivity."

The sole of his boot making a soft scuffing noise against the floorboards, Falidor raised his hands in exasperation. Judging by the paler tint of the one finger, his wedding band was a little tight. "Look, I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but between you and me, I'm in no position to see any problems with that ratio."

"Oh, that's not between you and me," Raia informed him. "Practically the whole shire knows. But maybe if you come in today and make sure my father makes decent progress on the book-keeping, then you yourself can swoop in on all the loose chambermaids he would have had himself otherwise."

"I don't want any loose chambermaids."

"Really?" This contradicted almost everything Raia knew about men. Maybe Ailede had such a firm grip on his balls that they no longer functioned. She couldn't figure out why a woman would want to do such a thing to her man--it certainly wouldn't benefit her, that was for sure.

His frown deepening, Falidor sniffed. "Why are we talking about this?"

"I don't know--you brought it up."

She donned a triumphant grin as a thoughtful cloud fell over his face. The many shades of his eyes were somehow more obvious now, whether by light or shadow or angle. Maybe her own eyes had grown stronger. "So, you really need me to come with you to the castle?"

Raia nodded. "If you don't mind."

He answered her with a hint of a smile. It was unlike any she had seen from him before; though his mouth had barely moved, his eyes were alight, all their blues and teals and indigos shimmering like the lake's summer surface. "Raia, you know I can never say no to you--especially after you've been out in a rainstorm before the crack of dawn."

Falidor lifted his hand to push a lock of damp black hair out of her eyes. "Look at you! You're absolutely drenched! You're dripping water all over Ailede's furniture!"

Unconvinced by his protests, Raia smirked. "Is that a bad thing?"

He slung his arm around her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Not in the slightest."

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