Orval stood stunned as the wails of Lara and Dalan grew in intensity. His inadequacies, his flaws all pressed in on him, again, paralyzing him, bringing back memories of the past, constant reminders of what he lacked.
Yet, what made his heart twist was Amari, crumpled before him, her eyes filled with tears, crushed.
Xydell continued, hitting the floor with her cane for emphasis. “This is shameful. Always knew you didn’t have it in you, but to do this? Dishonor the Blood? When word gets out—”
Something snapped within Orval. He found his breath “Enough,” he thundered, even as he shook inside.
Xydell shut her mouth so hard her teeth clicked and fixed him with a glare. The babes still cried, but at least the woman had gone silent.
“Xydell,” Orval refused to acknowledge their familial relationship. Rude deserved rude. “You are a nasty, vile woman. You have insulted my wife and children. Leave.”
Xydell drew herself up. “You married this hussy so that you—”
Dalan was still crying. Orval set him on the table, well away from the edge, took Xydell’s elbow and turned her firmly. “Out. You are not welcome in our home.”
“Humph,” Xydell threw her scarf around her neck even as she arched an eyebrow. “First time I’ve seen any spirit in you, Orval. Not that I would want to stay in this—”
Orval opened the door and managed to resist pushing the old harridan down the stairs as she continued her tirade. He waited until she was at least two steps down before he slammed the door and bolted it.
The babes were still complaining loudly. Amari wouldn’t meet his eyes; she was sniffling and trying to get Lara back on her nipple. Orval swallowed the bile in his throat, picked Dalan up and started rocking him. “There’s one in every family, you know,” he said, trying to calm his own racing heart. “Rude, manipulative, never a kind word.”
He started to walk back and forth a bit. His leg twinged but it was bearable. More important to soothe the little one.
Dalan blinked up at him, settling. Lara was nursing again, and in the quiet, Orval could hear Amari’s sobs.
“She’s never liked me, always made snide comments about my leg.” Orval babbled as he steadied his own breathing. “My mother could always handle her, but my father and I—”
“You deserve to know the truth,” Amari said softly.
Shame burned inher chest as Amari tried to stop crying. She was a fool, an utter fool, to think that the truth wouldn’t come out at some point. Amari wiped at her cheeks, careful not to disturb Lara further.
Orval moved next to her. She forced herself to look up and meet his eyes.
Still rocking Dalan, Orval handed Amari a clean nappy for her face. “Only if you want to,” he said. His eyes were warm and he gave her a quick smile, that one crooked tooth flashing at her. “You and I have suffered through enough baby cack and loss of sleep together to trust one another, yes?”
Amari took the nappy and smiled weakly before the tears started again. “But what she said—”
“That old gossip frames everything and everyone in the worst light,” Orval eased back into his chair. “Never a nice thing to say about anyone or anything.” He took a deep breath. “Trust me, I know.”
“I don’t think I can stop crying,” Amari admitted as she clutched the nappy.
“We can talk later,” Orval offered, but Amari shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Best get it done and over with.” She looked up at the ceiling, anywhere but at those understanding blue eyes. “I am Amari Misalyn Anouk of the Hearth of Misalyn in the Kingdom of Uyole, which acknowledged Xy as suzerain.” Absently, she reached for her bracelets, her fingers finding only bare skin.
Orval nodded. “The farthest southern part of Ancient Xy.”
For a moment, Amari forgot her shame and looked at him in surprise. “You know of it?”
“I’ve read about it, actually,” Orval shrugged, with an embarrassed look. “A matriarchy, if I remember correctly.” He paused, clearly thinking. “The men handle the military matters but the women rule.”
Amari wiped her face, nodding. He had the wrong impression, most outsiders did. “It may seem so to outsiders, but it’s more of a partnership. My mother is the Hearth Mother of a wealthy…what you would call a barony.” She struggled for the words as memories flooded in. “I am the fourth of eight children. After consulting with the Elder Aunties and Grandmothers, it was decided that I would be sent to serve Queen Kara, with an eye to establishing my own Hearth here.” Amari bit her lip. “I so wanted to see the world, experience new places and people. It seemed a great adventure.
“Queen Kara was welcoming, and I was presented at Court as one of her ladies. It was there I met Eijer.” She choked on his name.
“I knew him,” Orval’s tone was dry. “I suspect he saw you as a challenge.”
“I learned that,” Amari said bitterly. “Later.” She drew a shuddering breath. “Among my people, one enters into a courting contract first. Marriage does not occur until after the joining has proven fertile and a child has lived six months after birth. Then and only then does a couple enter into a contract of marriage.” She wanted him to know, to understand. She wasn’t what that woman had said she was.
