Delarix hadn’t moved in with her lovers on a whim. She’d made sure that she’d been able to trust them, especially with things that pertained to her beloved children. They knew, now, that Shi’Ara and Tal’Shar were only half-siblings, and that Shi’Ara’s father wasn’t known to anyone except him. They knew that she hadn’t left her family and fled across the desert because of raiders that killed her family and her husband, but because her pregnancy put both the toddler Shi’Ara and the unborn Tal’Shar in danger. They knew all that she’d been able to tell them of Arsurus’ previous situation, and how badly injured and malnourished he’d been when Tal’Shar had brought his broken body to the hospital. They knew that Shi’Ara had run away and joined the Fist of Ulrezaj. There were some things that you didn’t keep from your new family, especially if those secrets might come back someday.
Of course, that meant that they now had to keep some of those things secret from her beloved children. Her daughter wouldn’t have needed to know that she had a different father than Tal’Shar, and it would do no good to tell her son that his father may well have been alive before Shakuras fell but that he was certainly dead now. And what good would it do little Arsurus to know such things, when he was still distressed over how his “mother” had treated him before? So her children were blissfully ignorant, and more importantly, they were safe.
That didn’t mean that she didn’t worry when her son didn’t come home on time. When he had left in the morning, he’d promised to be back by closing. But closing had come and gone, and he still wasn’t back. And here she was, pretending not to pace in front of the door, and not bothering to pretend that she wasn’t worried.
She wasn’t the only one who was worried, of course. Tal’Shar was so rarely late that it was guaranteed that lateness meant a problem. But Nysha had taken Arsurus upstairs to play, and Sylaise was with them, waiting on Delarix’s word to go out and help her look for him. But Delarix couldn’t, wouldn’t tear herself away from the door. As always, she was too painfully reminded of the last time one of her children had promised to be home by dark, and had simply vanished into the night.
“Still waiting?”
Delarix jumped, although she belatedly realized that she shouldn’t have been startled at all. Of course Raezar would have heard about Tal’Shar being late, at this point. And of course he would be concerned about her, about all of them. But she was the easiest to find.
“Yes,” she turned towards him, smiling despite her worry. “He should be home soon. I don’t want him to think I don’t care...”
Raezar pulled her towards him, brushing his cheek against hers. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s-.”
There was a loud thud from outside. Delarix jumped again, her head whipping around to see what had happened. The door, of course, was closed. But the door only blocked her vision, not her ability to feel the auras from outside. Ga’len, of course, and he was hardly pleased. But the other aura was unmistakably her son, and the exact combination of feelings it had been the time he tripped down the stairs in the shop on Shakuras and put a hole through the wall, or the time he’d been roughhousing with Arsurus and broke a vase, or the countless other times he’d been clumsy and made a mistake. Poor Tal’Shar. Poor Ga’len. It wasn’t difficult to tell what had happened there.
It took almost humorously long for Tal’Shar to stop apologizing to Ga’len and actually open the door. Delarix couldn’t have not smiled even if she had wanted to, but she did make the effort to smile in a way that wouldn’t alert him to the fact that she’d heard him barrel into Ga’len at full speed. Raezar’s arm was settled comfortably around her waist, and she couldn’t help but lean against him.
“Mom!” Tal’Shar paused, looked back, and closed the door. “Mom! Stepdad! I’m so, so sorry for being late!”
Delarix didn’t have time to be surprised by his word choice, because both she and Raezar were suddenly on the receiving end of sweaty teenager hugs. “I don’t really have an excuse. I’m so sorry for making you worry! I’ll go tell Arsurus and stepmoms that I’m here, and then I’ll do my chores! I’m sorry! I love you!”
And then he was off, bolting through the hall like a madman. Delarix turned to Raezar, and gently nuzzled his cheek. She almost never got to see Raezar look surprised. This was the first time Tal’Shar had called him stepdad. He’d been so formal before, even though he had called Sylaise and Nysha “stepmom” for a while now, and “mom” when referring to them and herself.
“We should go follow him,” Delarix said, leaning her head against Raezar’s shoulder. “I didn’t get to tell him that he needs to take a bath before doing his chores.”
