Page 10 of Swordheart
Malva snorted loudly. “Don’t be smart with me, girl.”
“I am thirty-six,” growled Halla. “I amnota girl!”
“So you should be well aware of what duty you owe the family! And well past dithering like a maiden when you’re offered a chance at a respectable marriage.” She drew herself up and looked down her powdered nose. “You’ve no beauty and no prospects. And only a year or two left where you might bear children. Don’t be a fool.”
“I’ve not the least desire in the world to bear children,” said Halla. “And certainly not Alver’s!”
“Alver will be a fine husband and a fine father!”
“So bed him yourself, if you’re so keen on it!”
Aunt Malva inhaled as if she’d been struck.
“You’re out of your head with grief,” she announced. “I’ll not listen to such talk. Tomorrow we’ll have a family meeting and you’ll keep a civil tongue in your head and remember what you owe a family that took you in instead of casting you out on the street.”
Halla could think of so many things to say in response that she choked.Silashad taken her in, not their precious family. Malva had treated her like a drudge whenever she came to visit, which she did as rarely as possible. And they’d never cared much for her husband when he was alive, only to turn him into a saint after his death.
“I—you—howdare—”
Aunt Malva slammed the door. The lock clicked again.
Halla stood with her chest heaving, clutching one of the bedposts for strength. Howdarethat powdered old monster talk to her about gratitude?How dare they…how dare she…
“What an unpleasant woman,” Sarkis said, from under the bed.
Halla yelped and went down to her knees. He lay flat under the bed, wearing a resigned expression.
“I thought you went back in the sword!”
“I did. Unfortunately, I came loose when you kicked the scabbard under the bed.” He crawled free. “I didn’t think that my presence would contribute much to the conversation, though.”
He rose and handed her the sword, still several inches out of the sheath.
“Well, now you see why Ihaveto kill myself,” said Halla.
His eyebrows slammed together over his nose. He had a broad nose and a scar cut through one eyebrow, which gave him a singularly wicked look when he scowled. “I see no such thing!”
Halla groaned. “Look. My husband died years ago. His great-uncle Silas took me in. Silas left me everything in his will, like an idiot. His family wants that money, so now they plan to have me marry my husband’s cousin Alver, which will keep it in the family.”
“Which I gather does not please you, lady.”
“Alver wouldn’t please anyone. He’s got clammy hands.”
“The great god save us.” Sarkis raised his eyes, presumably to heaven. “Death is too good for such a creature.”
Halla was fairly sure that he was making fun of her. “You’re missing the point! Once I’m married to Alver, my life won’t be worth a penny anyway. They’ll kill me off so that Alver can marry someone younger and get heirs. But if I die now,beforeI get married, it will all go to my mother’s family. I’ve got a will with the town clerk that says so.”
“Where is your family?” Sarkis growled, his voice dropping an octave. “Why are your kinsmen not saving you from these grasping maggots?”
She sighed. “They’re poor.”
“Poverty’s no shame, lady, compared to abandoning kin to these jackals.”
“Yes, but… well, after my husband died, I didn’t want to burden them. They didn’t need another mouth to feed. And then my sister died and now it’s only my nieces, you understand, and… well…”
“What of your father’s kin?”
Halla shrugged. “I don’t expect a lot of help from that quarter.”
