Seraphina
For once, it was only laughter that drifted through her sitting room. No politics. No plotting. No desperate schemes. Just laughter. Warmth. Happiness.
Seraphina stood near the hearth, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea, simply basking in the warm glow.
Olivia lounged on the sofa beside Dame Florence, both women pretending not to be entirelytooinvested in the very intense dice game happening at the low table between Master Fitzjesmaine and Reyla. Rakon sat cross-legged on the floor, stroking his beard while he watched. Leif leaned over his shoulder, urging Reyla on. Kyn sat next to Reyla, attempting to keep score.
But it was growing more difficult by the round, what with both participants trying to out-cheat one another.
And in the center of it all was Reyla.
Bare feet peeking out from beneath her skirts, cheeks flushed from laughter, clearly reveling in her first night out of hiding, even if only inside these four walls. She shook the dice with all the dramatic flair of a veteran gambler and slammed them onto the table.
A groan from Calix. A whoop from Leif. Reyla beamed, victorious.
Seraphina’s heart warmed at the sight. It was almost a perfect night, lacking only in the fact that her godparents weren’t there. But one day, perhaps Aldric would trust them enough to let them in on the secret of Reyla, too. Then she could have her entire family all in one place, celebrating together.
Her family.
Unbidden, her gaze drifted toward Aldric, where he stood leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Keeping himself apart from the others as he had all evening after he had first arrived with Reyla disguised as a palace servant.
Even leaning, his posture was too straight. His shoulders too taut.
He was a statue carved from dark sandstone once more.
As she watched him, his one good eye flicked toward her, fixing her with all the usual intensity of his stare. But before she could even so much as smile at him, he looked away again just as quickly.
She swallowed hard and pinned a smile to her lips to try to mask how much his sudden dismissal stung. What was the matter with him? Was there not great cause for celebration?
They had bested Coreto without a speck of bloodshed.
Count Wellane’s forces had arrived just that morning, bolstering their numbers.
Lord Tiberius’s ships would soon dock in Goldreach, bringing them even more reinforcements.
And, the Lord willing, Cyneric and his northern army would be there soon in truth.
For the first time in too many months, the future looked bright. But there Aldric stood, grim-faced and distant, casting a dark cloud over an otherwise perfect moment.
A sudden exclamation of “Cheater!” from Olivia drew her attention back to the others, back to the game, just in time to see her friend pluck up a particular die from the table. She waved it in Master Fitzjesmaine’s face while laughing, “If you’re going to cheat, at least be subtle about it. This one doesn’t even match the others.”
Scoffing, Master Fitzjesmaine swatted her hand away. “That is not evenmydie.”
Seraphina’s smile softened…before it faltered entirely. Here they were—her best friend, Aldric’s Sons, his sister—laughing together as if they had all been born beneath the same roof, and yet her Crow stood apart from it all. As if he were watching a celebration he didn’t quite believe he had the right to join.
A small ache tugged at her chest. This was their one night together—their one night to simply be—before the world demanded everything of them again. And they were not even standing on the same side of the room.
Exhaling slowly, Seraphina finished off what was left of her tea and set the cup on the mantel before slipping away from the warmth of the hearth.
And toward him.
She knew he was watching her out of the corner of his eye. She could see it in the way the set of his shoulders stiffened further as she drew near, in the way that muscle in his jaw pulsed in time to her steps. But he kept his gaze averted, pretending to watch the game instead.
“Aldric,” she softly greeted him, claiming the patch of wall at his side.
He grunted, still not looking her way. “Kirei.”
There was no point in dancing about it. He was in a bad mood. She wanted to know why.
