Aubrelle folded her hands in her lap, and the room turned its attention to her the way it always did when she chose to hold it.
"My father called me home," she began. "Officially, for the border. Our land sits close to a great deal of movement, and lately there's been more of it than anyone likes."
"Officially," Trafalgar echoed. "And unofficially?"
"There was a family gathering as well. Formal. The whole house in one room, a few words traded with the neighboring lines, the sort of thing that has to happen now and again to remind everyone we're still on speaking terms." A dry curve touched her mouth. "You know how families are."
"I know." He tilted his head. "Should I have been there for that? I'm bound to your house now. If your people are sitting down to talk, I'd have thought the husband might be expected to sit with them."
