Page 121 of The Flame and the Forsaken

Destin had been delaying their move for years. He spent about a third of his time at his estate on the lake, the rest in Whitecliffe with his wife, but there were responsibilities a baron couldn’t neglect. It was harder to work from afar. His sailor’s apprenticeship under Aliksander was only a seasonal obligation. “Are you not surprised to hear yourself say that? About a place like the Spires?”

“Home for me is wherever you and Mariel and Remy are. The girls. I don’t care about all... this. I’ll just miss them is all.”

Remy had been dividing his time between Oldcastle, where he taught business law, and Whitecliffe, where he helped influence it. “Mistgrave is closer to the universities. Maybe you’ll see him more often.”

“Or less. He’s been coy about it, but I ken he’s met someone there.”

“A woman? Really?”

“Aye, surprises me as well, but the way he’s been acting, I expect an announcement soon.”

When they were younger, Destin assumed Mariel and Remy would wed, and he would wed Augustine, and they’d continue on as a family. Both the Perevils had danced their way in and out of Mariel’s heart, but proximity was not passion. What Mariel had with Erran was. What Destin had earned with Augustine was. “When he learns he’s to be an uncle, he won’t stay away for long.”

“He must have known we were talking about him.” Augustine nodded at the middle arch in a row of thirteen, where Remy was propped, eating an apple. “Ugh. He’s already pillaging the feast tables. I’ll find you later?”

Destin kissed her. “Aye. Go on.”

He was still laughing when two children crashed into him. He looked down and found his nieces, each wrapped around a leg. “You both have deviance in your eyes. What are you up to?”

“Uncle Des! Agnes said...” Esther screwed her face in thought. Her dark curls framed her soft, round face. “You have pie.”

“I have pie? What kind of pie?” Destin frowned suspiciously at Agnes. “Have you been telling tales to your sister again?”

Agnes shrugged, her green eyes glinting with mischief. She flashed a quick tongue at her sister, winking from behind a band of reddish hair. “I might have said it.”

“Now, you both know there’ll be no pie until after you’ve eaten proper,” Destin said, gathering an arm around each of them. They groaned in unison. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “But I ken I might know where we could steal abite.” When they squealed, he flashed them a look of caution, flicking his gaze toward the arches, where their parents were helping with final preparations. “Anddon’ttell your cousins, or Aunt Ses will have my head.”

They scampered off, waiting for him to follow. In the distance, between the arches, he caught Mariel watching and smiled. She touched a hand to her mouth in return.

With his heart full to bursting, Destin went off to spoil his nieces.

It was almost everyone.Hamish and his brood. The Laws. Augustine and Remy. Khallum and Gwyn had made it with their children. Even Yesenia had traveled down with her son, Torquil, which was a surprise because Erran hadn’t invited her.

“It was me,” Mariel said as they watched their guests mingling around the open terrace. “She’s a Warwick, and the Warwicks are like kin to you. I saw no reason to not at least extend the invitation. Torquil is a handsome boy, aye?”

Erran squeezed her hand. “You didn’t have to, but it was a lovely gesture.”

She smiled. “I wanted to.”

It was a gorgeous evening for a party. Candles flickered but held strong against the gentle breeze. A band of musicians played lively ditties on the pipes. The spits of meat roasting just beyond the veranda had him salivating, but he was too excited and nervous to be hungry.

For all he knew his wife, there were still times he couldn’t guess her reaction. His big idea had been taking form for over a year, and he’d somehow kept it a complete secret from her. He knew how much it weighed on her heart that she could bear no more children. Neither Agnes’s nor Esther’s births had been easy, and they’d nearly lost both mother and child. He couldn’t fix what the Guardians had taken, but he could offer her something else. Both Remy and Augustine had endorsed it, Destin as well, so Erran knew it couldn’t have been aterribleidea, but still his nerves were balancing on a razor’s edge.

“Did you see what Alessia and Magnur sent? For the girls?”

Erran chuckled. He’d seen, all right. The mysterious bandits had politely refused their invitation, but Alessia had sent two child-size swords, crafted herself.Start them early or regret it later,her note said.Kisses, Auntie A and Uncle M.“I ken we might give them a couple more years before we introduce them to the armorer?”

“Aye, maybe more than a couple.” Mariel laughed, shaking her head. She turned to him, stifling a yawn. They’d been chatting and laughing and fielding well wishes for hours, and she’d been fading for half of them. “You seem a touch off tonight.”

“Me? Oh...” He hugged her from the side. “Thinking about Father, I ken.” It was half-true. He’d watched Rylahn become an old man almost overnight. His dark hair was mostly gray. The cane he used for his leg was no longer elective. A year past, he’d ceded leadership to Erran, though had stayed on as adviser to his son. Erran had taken a step back from the admiralty, promoting Aliksander to commodore. The stated reason was so he could be home more with Mariel and the girls, which was certainly a big part of it, but it was also the sense his father had few good years ahead.

“He looks happy tonight.” Mariel nodded at the dance floor, where Rylahn was shuffling in embarrassing gyrations with Agnes, Esther, and Charles, Sessaly’s oldest son.

“He loves being a grandfather. Don’t ken I ever saw him half as happy as a steward.” Tears suddenly clouded his vision. He sighed.

“Are yousureyou’re all right?” Mariel asked, worry written in her eyes.

Erran turned toward her, offering his full attention as he pulled her hands into his and brought them to his mouth. “Mariel, I haveneverbeen happier.”

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