Chapter VII
VII Family
Magnar
When the servants clear the tables, I force thoughts of a grain yield report I haven’t finished reading from my mind. Caliane has one rule for me—only one.
Be with family after supper.
I suppose I dragged her through quite an ordeal when I brought her here first and almost drove myself to expiration with work. These days, work has to wait. At least until dawn.
I glance at my wife, who smiles at Alda, Khay’s niece, as she tells us about shooting practice.
Alda has grown into a strong young woman, one who’s not interested in suitors or feminine passions.
She carries herself with confidence and adheres to a rigid training program.
It was Khay’s idea to teach the girls to fight, one my mother applauded.
“They must learn they aren’t helpless. It’s the only way.”
My mother taught them how to use words as weapons, and Khay honed their prowess with swords and bows.
It started with innocent wrestling, but now, both sisters are warriors I wouldn’t dismiss in a fight.
They are shorter than Agnidari women but not by much, and their speed matches ours.
Apart from the difference in height and skin tone, which is paler and tinted warmer than ours, they are passable Agnidari.
Not that it matters to me. Both girls are family and will be a part of my court as long as they want to. Only, it’s interesting to see how my children may look when they grow up. Right now, one couldn’t tell them apart from Agnidari kids, maybe save for smaller ears and their blunt baby teeth.
Sameel hits his soup with his spoon, and a servant rushes in to take the soup away.
He sits in a wooden high chair far enough from everyone that we won’t be hit when he decides to turn food into missiles.
I check to see if he’s upset, but all my son does is look confused and exclaim rapidly something none of us can understand yet.
“Yes, that was a very good soup, Sam,” Caliane says, putting her napkin away. “The entire meal was excellent, as always. High praise for the cook. Nish, baby, you look ready to fall asleep on top of your plate. Let’s go brush your teeth, all right?”
“But Papa Arvi said he’d sing us a naughty song if we ate everything off our plates!” she complains, her lips bowing under the threat of tears. “Daddy, you promised!”
Arvi scratches his head, shooting Caliane an uneasy look. “It’s not really a bad song,” he says, barely moving his lips, probably hoping Nisha won’t hear him and feel tricked. “So don’t skin me alive for this.”
Caliane rolls her eyes, waving her hand at him in a gesture that’s both queenly and affectionate. “When a knight makes a promise, he must deliver,” she says gravely, though I see the laughter in her eyes. “The floor is yours. Entertain us.”
Arvi clears his throat, standing in front of our long family table and takes a deep, flamboyant bow.
He has a flair for the stage, and he makes up his own songs that he likes to perform.
This one is new, and it’s a quirky little story about a cat that fell in love with a mouse and chased after it only to lick it and see how it tasted.
He sings in the language of Roharra, and Caliane leans in to me at one point, enquiring about a word she doesn’t know.
“It means a pillock, someone dumb,” I explain in a whisper. “Not really a bad word but it will get annoying when Nisha repeats it over and over for the next week.”
Caliane nods with a sigh, though she’s smiling.
Arvi finishes the song, describing how the smart mice lured the lovesick cat into a trap and ate him.
He bows again and receives a deafening applause from the kids and the rest of our court, who sit at tables farther away but stopped their conversations to listen.
We take the kids upstairs. Sameel dozes off in Caliane’s arms, only waking when she runs a warm cloth down his cheeks.
She changes him into pajamas and brushes his teeth while I help Nisha brush her hair and braid it for bed.
When Caliane lays Sameel in his large crib, he puts his pudgy arms around her neck, and she stays there for a good minute, smiling as she waits for his body to go limp with sleep.
Nisha is less tired but remembers to speak in a hushed voice so as not to wake her brother. The kids share a room for now, though Nish will get her own next month.
“Oh, I forgot,” Caliane murmurs, sitting on her bed by my side. “Did you get your ring back? Sam ate it,” she explains for my benefit.
“Oh no,” I whisper, stroking my daughter’s hair. “Has it come out yet?”
Nisha shakes her head, but she doesn’t seem too distraught. “I can wait. I have a lot of rings. Aunt Tasha helped he sort them, and I picked out three to wear tomorrow.”
“You like jewelry, don’t you?” Caliane says with a smile, then frowns. She hesitates a moment before asking, “Hey Nish, have you maybe seen a silver brooch with an orb? No precious stones, just a pretty orb with some engravings. It’s really unique.”
Nisha fidgets a moment, looking at Caliane, then me, and yawns. She blinks a few times, seeming far sleepier now. I shoot my wife a quick look, and she shrugs. “It was worth asking. Are you ready to sleep, honey?”
She nods, and Caliane lies down by her side to scratch her back. I sing her an old lullaby, one my mother used to sing to me when I was little. It doesn’t take her more than a few minutes to fall asleep, and Caliane rolls out of her bed with a yawn.
“Bed for you, love,” I decide, then yawn, too. “Bed for us all.”
The others are already in our chambers. Raduna spits out toothpaste and rinses out his mouth, then leaves to kiss the kids goodnight.
Arvi is soaking in the bath, his eyes open but unfocused, and he’s unusually still.
Khay braids his hair in front of a mirror.
He likes to wear it wavy these days, and sleeping in braids is the easiest way to achieve that.
“Someone please brush my teeth for me,” Caliane whines, leaning on me when we enter the bathroom. “I’m exhausted, and all I did today was sit on a council meeting.”
Khay looks up, and I just catch his grin in the mirror. “Share who rode you so hard, my lady.”
“Gah, don’t sound so smug about sucking my life force out of me.”
Even though I reach for her toothbrush to help her, she snatches it out of my hand and does it herself. I bend my knees, which is easier on my back than bending at the waist, and kiss her temple.
“I could brush your teeth for you, darling. Or any other part of you. I could braid your hair, and not just on your head, you know.”
I give her my best seductive smile, and Caliane bursts into giggles that sound a tad hysterical.
“You’d braid… my nether… hair? Oh Magnar. You come up with the oddest things.”
“Anything to spend more time down there, sweet wife.”
She hits my forearm just under my elbow then washes her face. Arvi gets out of the bath, and I lean over it to wash my armpits. Good enough, since my dick sadly won’t be needed tonight.
When Caliane’s dress drops to the floor, I wait for it, because it always happens.
A hush falls over the room, everyone slowing what they’re doing.
Arvi stares, a little slack jawed, then presses his thumbs to his forehead in silent prayer.
I don’t even know if he’s become sincerely religious or if it’s just a joke that’s run so long, it turned into a kind of truth.
Khay ogles Caliane without shame, and Raduna, who’s come back from the children’s chamber, smiles as he discreetly adjusts his trousers.
My wife sighs from exhaustion, oblivious to the effect she has on us, and grabs a nightshirt off the back of a chair.
It’s one of the sexy ones, made of cool silk that clings to her curves.
I catch Khay’s eye, and he points at himself with a smug expression.
So he’s the one who laid it out tonight. I give him a nod of approval.
It should be surprising that seeing Caliane naked for what’s probably the thousandth time makes us so excited, but it’s not.
We’re simple men—we see tits, we drool. Even if they are the same pair we’ve seen over and over, sometimes swollen from milk, sometimes suckled by our kids, sometimes tired and droopy.
They are her tits. And that’s enough.
When she climbs in bed, I follow, pressing myself to her back.
Khat rushes in to claim her other side, but Raduna stops him with a shake of his head, silently pointing at Arvi.
I hum in agreement. Yes, it’s my and Arvi’s turn.
Khay clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he lets Arvi take his place in front of Caliane, then climbs in after him.
Raduna blows out the candles and joins us, the mattress dipping by my side.
“Mmm, you’re plotting something again,” Caliane murmurs, wiggling in my arms as she searches for the most comfortable position. “You think people don’t see the way you communicate in that stupid code of looks and grunts, but we do. And one day soon, I’ll find out what it all means.”
She yawns, and I kiss the top of her head.
Arvi has his arms around her, and I embrace both her and him, my foot brushing against Raduna’s.
We lie in a tangled heap, covered with only a thin blanket.
It’s chilly after the rainy day, but we share enough body heat not to need much in terms of bedding.
“Each of us likes to hold you, laruna,” Arvi murmurs, sounding sleepy. “We take turns so you don’t have to agonize over choosing favorites.”
“Turns.” She sighs, reaching back blindly until she finds my ass, which she pats with affection. “I suppose it’s inevitable. Come to think of it, I had Magnar and Raduna by my side last night. Hmm. Magnar twice in a row? I guess he has husband privileges.”