Luminous

96 - Mother Dearest

Night has fallen outside the window. Baron Kellis was penning the last paragraph of his letter to Lady Jaise when knocks sounded from the door. He voiced his consent, and his elder son entered.

Kellis looked up as the lad approached his desk. Coris's complexion was ashen. Judging from his dazed, distant eyes, his mind hasn't followed him from the prison cell. He must have felt the heat of Kellis's questioning stare and his raised eyebrows, however. He gathered himself and met Kellis's gaze.

"Meya's pregnant." Coris breathed, his voice hoarse. Kellis blinked. He couldn't resist a savage smirk at the corner of his lips.

"Not exactly barren, are we?" Coris colored at the none-too-subtle jab. Noticing the wrinkle of worry on his son's eyebrows, Kellis sighed then gestured towards the chair before his desk, continuing tenderly,

"What troubles you, son?"

Coris drew back the chair then slumped heavily onto it.

"I've always wanted children, but perhaps this isn't the best of times." He confessed then heaved a long sigh, lamenting, "My fault entirely."

"And what do you plan to do?" asked Kellis. Coris stiffened, as if surprised by the freedom his father was allowing him, then nodded slowly.

"I'm willing to raise the child, but I feel the verdict should lie with the mother. Meya is seventeen. Far older women have died giving birth." His voice quivered at the chilling notion, then he raised his eyes and faced Kellis's serene scrutiny,

"Father, when the time is right, Hadrian will have an heir. I give my word. Please. Do let her end it if she so desires."

Kellis gazed into his son's beseeching eyes, and was surprised to see he truly believed in his words, the existence of his future, when days earlier the boy was still as convinced of his premature death as he always had been.

He glanced at the door to the adjoining room. Sylvia had been preparing to tuck in but decided she'd have another look on the Greeneyes and Lady Agnes. Finally, he nodded,

"You're young, son. And you've known the girl for barely a month. Your heart may change." Coris's eyes hardened. For a second, he looked as though he would argue, then realized he couldn't deny the truth in his father's words, "I'd hate for you to feel imprisoned by your choice for the rest of your days. The child has not a soul yet. You do have time. Choose wisely."

"Thank you, Father." Coris deflated with a thankful smile which Kellis reciprocated. His gaze wandered as his thoughts strayed to the dragon girl, alone in her prison cell.

"I should return to her side. Perhaps some gold would persuade the warden." He muttered, frowning. His mind made, he straightened in his chair, "Shall we discuss Amplevale, then, Father?"

Prepared, Kellis handed his son an opened letter,

"Kyrel's letter to Simon. You haven't the chance to read it, have you?"

Coris took it with a quizzical knot on his eyebrows, which soon tightened into one of displeasure. He resurfaced, gray eyes blazing silver.

"Aunt Kyrel specifically requested my counsel! Why hadn't Simon mentioned this?" He exploded.

"Would you return if he had?" Kellis raised an eyebrow. The subtle coolness laced in his airy voice had Coris biting back his temper. He shook his head, panting.

"She must understand I can't abandon my work here, but—" His darting eyes snapped back to Kellis, cold with fury. He seethed, "Still, I would've known how serious this is. I need every last scrap of intelligence if I were to lead effectively. He had no right to deny me that out of some childish rivalry!"