The rest of the journey passed quickly amidst their banter and Stefen entered Haven with a light heart. Medren always had that effect on him.

Munching on a still-warm meat pie, Stefen eyed the short stack of mail awaiting him. On top, a note with the royal seal:

"Bard Stefen, please attend Court upon your earliest convenience for a full, official report." He groaned aloud. Full report, full Scarlets… he'd been so looking forward to a night's rest.

Taking another bite of his dinner, he opened the second letter:

"Trev's a beast with a terrible sense of humor.

We expected you last night, love! Do stop by."

-Jisa

Chuckling, he breathed a sigh of relief and opened the last few, various party invitations, then—

"Stefen, you rat, you ran off to Lineas-Baires without a word to me?

I'll have your neck next time you don't stop by to say hello to an old warhorse."

-Lissa Ashkevron

He tensed all over and rubbed his eyes. Yes, he'd been avoiding Lissa, intentionally. After Vanyel's death, they'd been close—he'd met her at the funeral and they'd shared memories over her stay at Haven. He'd enjoyed her frank company, but seeing her hurt, a lot. More than seeing WIthen and Treesa, before they'd passed on, who always were kind yet distant. Lissa seemed to understand his pain in its entirety. Rather than a burden shared, though, it was a burden doubled. She reminds me of him- too much.

He mulled over his reaction while finishing his wine then pulled on a soft gray tunic to head over to the royal quarters.

"Did you choose the tunic to match your hair, Stef?" Jisa teased as she greeted him with a quick, warm hug.

He fingered a lock of his wild, half-red, half-gray hair, then smiled. "Nay, my lady," he jested back. "I always strive to match my Queen's lovely locks."

The laugh lines around her eyes deepened as Treven moved to embrace him with a quick kiss on the cheek. "Stop insulting my lady wife," he growled, "Or I'll have you singing even higher than you do now."

"How was your trip?" Jisa asked, aiming a half-hearted swat at her husband.

"Uneventful. Tashir has everything well under control in his particular Border kingdom. Although…" he trailed off, remembering a strong undercurrent of pro-Heraldic sentiment.

"Yes?" Jisa said.

"I have a feeling they might ask for annexation. Perhaps not in Tashir's time, but having a Herald as their ruler has made them singularly open to Valdemar's way of rule. They don't want to find themselves with another despot after Tashir leaves, and the only way to ensure that is—"
"Unbroken succession of Heralds. The Valdemaran way," Treven replied slowly, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "But are there no true patriots? The last thing we want is to foment civil war in our most peaceful neighbor."

"I may have sang some songs," Stefen said with a cough. "Most dissenters seemed to take a—less violent—view of annexation after my performances." He paused. "Medren was surprisingly helpful."

Jisa looked worried. "Stef—you two didn't—create any opinions, did you? Annexation is as much a burden as a profit; we would as soon Lineas-Baires made its own choice."

He gifted her with a sweet, sad smile. "Ah, Jisa, I had my morals formed long ago, and by a most rigid code."

Her expression softened. "Of course."

"No, I didn't create this idea, it was firmly ingrained," he continued. "But some reckless youths seemed to imagine a sort of glory in violent political warfare, and I calmed some of that fervor." He shifted in his chair. "Not to say there won't be issues, still, and some potential violence. In the long run, though, this is a far better solution for Valdemar as well: who's to say some petty lordling tyrant won't take control of our vassal-state and cause us no end of headaches? Best to annex now, while the people are willing and more sympathetic to Heralds than ever."

Treven was nodding along to Stefen's words. "I agree. I've considered it for some time—Tashir and I have been exchanging ideas for how best to present it to his people. We'll bring it up at Council tomorrow."

A light knock sounded on the door. "Ah!" Treven said. "I believe a certain fifteen-year-old Bardic trainee is absolutely dying to see her Uncle Stefen!"

"Uncle," he muttered to Jisa. "Grandfather would be more accurate? If we're following the actual relationship."

"Grandpa Stefen?" she returned, stifling a laugh. "It does have a nice ring to it, no?"

Stefen's entire face lit up as Jisa opened the door to let in a willowy girl whose face was partially hidden by a shroud of white blonde hair.

"Alara!" he exclaimed, crossing the room in two giant steps to give her a hearty kiss on the cheek. She pushed her heavy hair out of her face to smile at him with—Good Gods—Vanyel's face.

His voice caught in his throat and she took a step back at his dumbfounded expression.

"I heard you were back," she said uncertainly, "I wanted to say hello—"

"Of course, sweetling!" he said, catching himself and giving her a winning smile. "I'm thrilled you came by."

Her lips are fuller, her eyebrows lighter and more curved, but Gods, she is his spitting image. I wonder if there's been talk… but then, nobody really saw Van, they saw black hair and a white uniform. Her being blonde and a woman must be enough.

"There's another reason," she said, gaining back a bit of her natural confidence. "I'm having a recital tomorrow night—they're going to decide if I'm ready for my Journeyman trial. Not until next year, of course, but the Circle is coming to listen tomorrow." Her eyes looked pleadingly at him. "Would you—would you come?"

As if I could say no to that look in that face. Besides, what I wouldn't have done to have a friendly face in the room for my trial.

"I would be honored to come," he replied gravely. Then, with a hint of smile, "I wouldn't miss it for a thousand Court meetings!"

"A dubious compliment," Treven said wryly, smiling at his eldest daughter. "I'd go to a thousand recitals to miss one Court meeting!"

"Alas, duty claims us as it does not Bard Stefen, despite his rumored Heraldic tendencies," Jisa sighed. "And we have to welcome that delegation from the South border tomorrow."

Just then, a page entered with a note for Treven. Reading it, he rolled his eyes. "It seems that duty would claim us now, even at this late hour."

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then, Alara," Stefen said, backing out of the room with an exaggerated, ostentatious bow to the royal family, "My Gracious Queen, My Stalwart King, I bid thee good night!"

Jisa chucked a pillow at him. "Get out of here, you ridiculous Bard."