Jisa and Treven were thoroughly enjoying their first break in months from council meetings and ambassador visits.
"Thank the Gods for Vanyel's treaty with Rethwellan," Treven murmured as Jisa stood above his chair and stroked his hair. "That mutual defense pact gave us just the edge we needed to win at Dervish."
"Yes," Jisa sighed, old sorrow in her voice. "Thank Havens for Van, right?"
Turning to look at her, Treven saw the pain in her eyes. "Still, Jisa?" he asked. "You mourn him still?"
"Always," she replied softly, stopping her ministrations to sit next to him on the sofa.
Treven gave her a searching look. "I never understood how close you were. Havens know I respected him more than anyone… but he was distant, hard to reach. The few times I had a real conversation with him, he gave me invaluable advice—yet he still frightened me. So powerful, so competent, so untouchable…" Treven trailed off, lost in distant memories.
Jisa's voice brought him back. "You have no idea how human he was. How incredibly warm and loving."
Treven started to speak, then paused at a thought. "Why were you so close to him, always? He was close to your parents, but so were others—Tantras, Joshe—why Vanyel? He doesn't seem like the type to seek out an uncle position willingly!"
Silence hung in the air and Jisa's eyes grew unreadable.
"There's something you should know, Trev. Something I've wanted to tell you for a while—but I never knew quite how. Now.. .it's important. We'll have children soon, and I don't want the shadow of Randale's illness hanging over them."
What does this have to do with Vanyel? Treven thought, bemused, as the silence lengthened between them.
Abruptly, she spoke. "Vanyel Ashkevron was my father."
He fell back in his chair. "But… he's shaych… your parents were lifebonded…" The implications overwhelmed him. "Vanyel slept with Shavri? That's... the strangest thing I could imagine, just about."
A smile twitched at Jisa's lips. "Apparently Mother wanted a child, and Father was sterile. So—she asked Vanyel. Trusted, a friend, and decidedly unlikely to become attached."
"Oh." Treven sat, thinking quietly for a moment, and his expression softened into something akin to sorrow. "Oh, love, all this time, and I never understood why you mourned him so deeply. "
Enough, Jisa thought, feeling melancholy threatening to drown another night together, enough.
"I'm sick of mourning, Treven," she said.
Unsure of what she meant, he returned her steady gaze. She bent to fasten a deliberate kiss on his mouth that deepened into a lengthy embrace.
Pulling away, she spoke softly, "I want to celebrate life, my love."
Comprehension dawned on him and he stood to take her in his arms. "A baby," he whispered into her hair. "Oh, love, yes."