November 1, 2013

In Which Florian Does as He Was Trusted to Do

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: