Hours later, the warmth of the day was pushed out by the late Spring night chill. Barathiel had already sent away the last of the guests.

For the remaining few hours, only Ellie, her brothers and he were left to perform hosting duties.

With a hug and a kiss he bid her goodnight and cajoled Erotche and Emotche to escort her home. Erotche gave excuses to stay longer, but Barathiel shook off his pleas.

"No cards tonight, cousin. Your sister is tired. See to it she gets home safely."

Erotche gave Emotche a knowing look. The younger brother looked down to his feet and shuffled.

"Well... What's so funny," Barathiel asked.

"After that thing that happened in Nevespora," Erotche answered, almost tactfully.

"What thing." Barathiel looked in the faces of the three siblings.

Ellie looked away. Her shoulders erect, jaw rigid and her elbows stiff. Except for her Nincian bronze curls and softer jawline, she looked to be more the twin of his sister than he did.

"The girl Uncle Tereth arranged for you to marry," Erotche continued.

Emotche interrupted. His voice cracking with sputtered impatience.

"The thing being, she fled back to old Ninci in a riverboat all the way up river from Nevespora telling her father you are some kind of pervert. Then she demanded to have the marriage annulled. That thing."

Erotche smacked his brother upside his head.

"Have some couth about you, Emotche. Solugarr's are nobility, not hillbilly.

Emotche rubbed his head.

"Uncle Tereth plays the damn bass rote. Sounds like a sow grunting while being fucked. Speaking of which, being fucked, I mean."

Barathiel eyed Ellie. She held her hands tightly together in front of her dress with elbows now pressed hard into her overlayed shawl.

By her reaction, he knew his affairs in Nevespora were matters of much speculation back home in the Ninci community.

In deference to his cousin, the proper lady she was, he would answer Emotche's implied question as tactfully as he possibly could.

"I was in my freshman year in school. I had no business being married. As for perversion, there are certain sexual activities that are common practice here to say nothing of Nevespora, and the gods help us all, Suüdlands, that are frowned upon in our Ninci homeland."

Emotche interrupted with imbecilic laughter and he pointed at Barathiel.

"She wouldn't give you a blowjob!"

"Well…"

"I knew it!"

"Chianne, the woman I was formally betrothed, wanted a child right off, and she was reluctant to engage in any activity that distracted from that task.

"I thought it foolish to try raising a child on a student's stipend. We had different prerogatives concerning our mutual matrimonial obligations, well, in this matter, her obligations."

Ellie could only stare down at her feet as Barathiel confirmed the rumors.

"Everybody knows," Emotche continued, highly animated. "Girls from the old country won't blow you, but they'll make you give 'em dick up the butt before they will agree to cook your breakfast."

"Emotche," Barathiel, said with patience trying to calm his little cousin down.

"She wanted his butt baby," the boy continued.

Erotche's voice suspired, "I keep telling you, Emotche, there really is no such thing as a butt baby."

"Is too. That is where changelings come from. That is why our Ninci bloodlines are so corrupted the Empress won't recognize our land claims to the Old Nin. She says we need enemaic ablution."

"She said no such thing," his brother pleaded. "You've got it backwards."

"That is what she called it!"

The older brother laughed to this derisively, "Those words don't mean anything put together like that. She was saying -"

"Emotche," Barathiel yelled, interrupting the brothers. He had the lad's full attention, now. He cleared his throat and regained his composure.

"You besmirch your own people. Are you so fully Midvries in your sentiments now that you mock us as they do? If so, you are no longer truly a part of us. Understand, your own people, boy.

"The ladies of the Nin like your very own sister who stands here are the most dignified in the Imperium. The Ritual of Vedgballi-Endurat is a bond she makes to husband, country, and the Sacred Spirit that she does not give up so lightly in exchange for kitchen duties. So, Emotche, to your greater point…."

Erotche cleared his throat.

"Pardon, cousin, truly a necessary lecture you give, but my brother is rattling your chains for another reason."

"Yes?"

"After the failure of your first marriage, I've heard our father talking to Tareth. Ellie has just turned her majority, and according to the genealogy there hasn't been a first cousin arrangement in either the maternal or fraternal lines in three and five generations, respectively. They agreed that it would serve the greater good of our clan if the bloodline were to recourse through Ellie and yourself."

Barathiel made sure to keep his eyes fixed on Ellie as he realized where Erotche's words were heading. His heart jumped at the thought.

He had never before considered it, but as soon as he heard the plan he realized that she would make for the perfect wife for an ambitious advocate.

"If this be true, I would be honored and delighted. I have to wonder though, when were they going to tell us?"

Ellie, however, looked as if the stars had rained down like javelins and stricken her. He couldn't tell if it went over very well given the shock on her face.

Apparently, it was news to her as it was to him and the brothers conspired to make sure Ellie and he learned of it at the same moment.

Finally, her eyes lit up as her lips let out a tense giggle.

Erotche took her by the cusp of her elbow.

"Come on, Ellie. Let's get you home before you faint dead here."

They started down the cobblestone walk leading back to their father Thiel's Manor. Emotche followed, stomping his feet in a long skip, his hands in his pockets. He turned back to Barathiel shaking his head.

"Delighted, you say. Liar! We all know you only have eyes for Brietess."

"Emotche, you little shit. That's my sister!"

"So she's no good now she's been with a thousand men."

This time, Erotche jerked his brother back by the collar of his jacket and slapped him across the cheek.

"That's your cousin, Jackhorn. Alone up in that decrepit, old city of Meizsol that nobody but a fool would believe sacred. Saving us all, all noblemen, from the Empress' dungeons. You should be thanking her for performing such a horrific duty. Should it be a surprise to anyone she doesn't want to have anything to do with men now?"

They were a few hundred feet away now, Barathiel could hear Emotche repeating over and over.

"I was just kidding around. Why are you being such a dick about it? You got something for Bri."

And Eroch repeating, "shut up. Shut up. Who doesn't have a thing for Brie? She's Brie. Take a look at her next time you clear your snotty eyes."

Emotche was only twelve. Barathiel shrugged the derision he suffered through from the lad off. He couldn't really be angry at the boy, at least for very long.

At that age, if you have even half the sense of a hill giant, all social conventions, no matter how necessary to the survival of your clan, seem moronic. So you test the diligence of adults to see if they really are committed to what they profess to believe.

Still, he would have liked to have looked both the brothers in the eyes and told them. She needs us for our bloodlines, if not for that the Empress would have murdered all of us royals long ago.

However, the boys are not Obisvyrre. Even Erotche was not an initiate for reasons to which Barathiel wasn't privy. Without that fellowship, they were not meant to know.