Welcome back to Vaulting Ambitions!

I am still shocked and flattered by the reviews this story is getting. It really makes me very glad. So how about a recap?

Last time, Owen’s twin Rhodri fell in battle and because of his brother’s death Owen petitioned to leave the king’s service. Upon finding a keep and lands in disrepair Owen focused on fixing those problems rather than on finding a wife. Since he was unable to do so in the pre-arranged time, the king made a match for Owen to his bastard sister Aurora FitzRoy. Which brings us up to the present.

Owen walked into the tower, in his hands were two letters. One for him and one for his affianced bride, Aurora.

He walked up the stairs to where he knew he would find the blonde woman – in her solar reading. He smiled to himself, thinking of her. The king knew him well and the studious yet family oriented woman was the best fit for him. He only hoped he was the best fit for her with his desire for a family and prestige.

As he’d expected, Aurora was reading when he found her.

“Forgive my intrusion,” he said by way of preamble. “But a messenger arrived with a letter for you.”

“A letter?” she asked, setting aside her book. “From whom?”

“I do not know. I have my own missive as well. From my mother, I do believe. Shall I read you it?”

“You do not wish to keep it private?” she asked.

Owen shook his head. “We are to be man and wife in a weeks time. A man should not keep secrets from his mate unless ordered to by his lord. And I do not think your brother would care to keep my family’s gossip from your ears.”

“Then by all means, sit and read away.”

“My dearest son,

You do not know how much it pleases this old woman that you are finally settling down. I do not believe that I shall live much longer and hope to know of my grandchildren from you before I go.

“Your wife-to-be seems to be a good match for you. Although I am not sure I approve of her betrothal gift to you. A spying glass is meant for sailors and soldiers, of which you are neither. I fear it will lead to bad luck. I suggest staying away from it lest you anger the Creator who shall send her minions to punish you.

“I have been in contact with your brother’s widow, Gwyneth. She fares well, although I sense that she misses your brother’s presence dearly. I am not sure if you were aware, but the stress of his death caused her to go into labor prematurely. However if anything were to convince me that the Creator exists and is merciful it would be this. Gwyn, Creator be praised, gave birth to four. Yes, four healthy, albeit small, children. Four! And she survived, although the midwife advises that she not conceive again. Something that I feel she has taken to heart.

“She has taken a vow of chastity, stating that six children should be more than enough for any legacy. And I do believe she is correct, although I hear her father is urging her to marry again she is so far refused to comply with his requests. Still, knowing that your brother lives on in his six children – the youngest four called Bran, Cadoc, Rhodri (after his father) and Elain and the eldest being called Morgan and Megan – warms my heart. Though he be gone, his legacy lives on.

“Speaking of Megan, she has just been matched to one of the King’s squires. I believe his first name is Oswald although I cannot recall his last name. However, in hopes of Oswald earning his spurs they have decided to wait a bit before celebrating their marriage.

“As for the goings on here at Caer Eryrllyn, much has happened.

The first is your father died. Alas, poor Eurig, I knew him well. I know that he would have been pleased by the honor shown you by the king. Despite how he may have treated you when you were here, he was proud of you and your brother. Still, he was in many ways a bitter man and he took out his anger for me upon you and Rhodri. I pray that you think kindly on him if at all.

“Ioan has not fully recovered from the death of Nerys. Nor, I fear, will he. He has become childlike himself playing only with Ianto. And ignoring his other children.

“The three girls are used to it. However, Iago is not. He hates his older brother for receiving all of his father’s love and is not afraid to show his feelings openly.

“The boy is most unusual as he spends much of his time alone talking or playing with some unseen companion. It is unnatural. Iago worries me greatly.

“I admit, that I have taken to checking on Ianto more frequently than I normally would have. So great is his brother’s hatred of him and so unnatural his demeanor. I fear he will do his brother harm someday.

“I also worry about your nieces. After your wedding, the three shall separate. Janet to St. Bella’s. Branwen to the Turners, leaving Mari alone. Please, I know that the king has dowered them well since they are his god-children but if you could speak to him about Mari, I would appreciate it. She will be most miserable if left here to care for her father and brothers. She longs, much as you did, for a family of her own.

“I shall see you soon, my son, at your impending wedding. The priest whom you sent with your invitation left quite a positive impression on our family and I hope he is who you have chosen to perform your wedding. Ianto was most taken with him and they spent hours discussing theology. I swear, if your nephew were not heir, he would have begged right then to enter the Creator’s service.

“That is all from here. We shall see you soon at your wedding. Until that time, I pray that the Creator keeps you safe.

Mother”

Aurora looked over at Owen. “My, your family has suffered greatly haven’t they?”

“No more than any other family, I suppose.”

“Still, to have lost two wives. I am glad I am not marrying Ioan. And four children all at once, I do not know how Rhodri’s wife managed.”

“What other choice did she have?” Owen pointed out.

“True. Still, if you ever do that to me, Owen Tudor will need to find another bed to sleep in! I love children, but one at a time please.”

Owen threw back his head and laughed. “We must take what the Creator gives us. And then only after we are married.”

Aurora looked at him slyly. “Are you certain of that?”

“My Lady!” Owen gasped, looking over at her in shock. “I am aghast you would even suggest such a thing!”

“Owen, dearest, you forget that I am very aware of what goes on in the marriage bed and outside of it for that matter. It is of no consequence if you bed me now or later, so long as we marry. Besides, I have found it is quite cold in this tower.”

“Aurora, while I am flattered that you look forward to that part of our marriage together. I refuse to dishonor you and your brother by taking your person before I have taken you in marriage.”

“As you wish. Still it is cold within this tower. Perhaps you would be willing to lie your head in my lap while I read my brother’s letter.”

“Is that who it is from,” Owen asked, settling himself into Aurora’s lap. “I do not recall him writing many letters when I was in his service. I was not certain he had the skill.”

“Oh, he can most assuredly read and write. He just sees no use for it. Alais pens most of his letters for him as well as reads most of his correspondence. If he did not have such a competent queen, then he would be forced to do it himself. But as long as he has her, he will foist off the chore onto her.”

“So when we are married, will you do the same for me?”

“My lord, you jest! I have seen your writing, it is a far finer hand than my own. No, that is one duty that I will gladly leave to you.”

“It was worth a try.”

“Besides,” Aurora continued with a sniff. “I shall be kept most busy in caring for this keep and your children. I will not have time to pen missives.”

“Enough! You have proved your point. So what says your brother?”

“Dearest Sister,

I hope you have found Sir Owen to be as good and honorable of a knight as I have. I feel he will make a fine husband to you. I look forward to attending your wedding in a fortnight. Alais and I have decided that we shall all attend. I do not have any other siblings that I would miss your wedding, even if you were born on the wrong side of the blanket.

I am sorry it has been so long since our last real communication. My messenger reported that you were most put out with him when he ordered you to Wrighton. I hope you did not lash him too hard with your tongue. So with your pardon, I shall apprise you of what has been going on.

“I am sure you have heard news of Henry’s marriage to the Butterscotch Princess, Madeleine. I know that she and Henry are both a bit young, but I felt that a long betrothal would not be in the nation’s best interest.

“Madeleine was most displeased with this development and she took it out on Henry.

“Henry, I am pleased to report, refused to stoop to her level. The more she baited and taunted him the milder he became. Eventually, I think that his kindness and concern penetrated her prickly demeanor.

“Alais reports that from what sounds her maids have heard outside of their bedchamber that most of their differences have been settled.

“It was therefore of no surprise that soon after Madeleine announced she was pregnant. Henry was delighted with the prospect but Madeleine seemed nervous.

“She did not need to be, she was delivered safely of a healthy girl named Katerine. Henry, has decided to wait until Katerine is older before reasserting his husbandly rights. He feels the time will lead to another safe pregnancy for his princess although I can see he regards her quite highly, he as thus far stuck to his vow. Alais and I are quite proud of him.

“As for your other nephew, Lionel has sprouted liks a weed. His favorite thing to do is to fish within the palace moat.

“Alais has told him that he will not catch much within its depths, however he still has hope. He has caught some rubbish that has been thrown within, though, much to his chagrin.

“One of our newer advisors, a merchant’s son named Gregory Roseland, has fast become Lionel’s friend despite their age difference.

“Alais caught him one morning stocking the waters of the moat with various fish caught in nearby streams. When asked why he had done such a thing he responded with, ‘Every boy deserves a childhood, even a prince.’ That response forever earned him a place within Alais’ heart. And mine, truth be told. I have high hopes for him, despite his low background.

“You shall meet him when we come to your wedding. I believe you will like him. He reminds me of your affianced husband in some ways.

Until then, I hope that this missive finds you in good health and high spirits.

As always your loving brother,

Richard”

Aurora set down the letter and looked down at Owen. “So, my lord, what did you think?”

Owen frowned thoughtfully for a few moments before replying carefully. “I worry about Prince Henry.”

“Oh? And why do you worry about him?”

Owen sat up from Aurora’s lap and looked at her. “I worry that his lords and other nations will not see his quiet strength and stubbornness until it is too late and we are at war.”

The woman nodded. “It is a fair concern. But I feel that he is still young and we have time before he must show his true mettle.”

“True enough,” Owen responded rising to his feet. “Now, my Lady, I am off to my cold, bachelor bed. There is much to be done before our wedding.” He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on it. “Until the morrow.”

“Until the morrow, my lord.”

~*~

The nave of the small chapel Owen ordered built and dedicated to St. Goopy was filled with guests many anxious to be somewhere else. Children fidgeted. Adults gossiped. And the Priest up front tried to contain his nervousness as he glanced over at the bride’s family seated in the front pew with trepidation.

In all, an ordinary start to a wedding.

“Mother, what’s taking so long,” Ioan asked petulantly.

Bronwyn glanced over at her step-son with pity. His mind had regressed dramatically and he now act much the same age as his two sons. It was a far cry from the man he’d used to be. She patted his hand softly. “It will not be long now, Ioan. See, your brother goes to talk with the king. We must wait until they are finished.”

“Then may we go hunting, Mother? Ianto and me?”

“We shall see.”

Just as Bronwyn had said, Owen was indeed talking with the king.

“Sir Owen, you look very fine although not as fine as my beloved sister,” the king said by way of greeting.

“Other than her majesty here, I do not believe that there is any woman finer than your sister.”

Alais beamed. “Oh he is such a nice boy.”

“Man now, my queen. And about to be married.”

“He shall always be a boy in my eyes,” the queen countered.

“I see. Is there anything you wish to ask of me before we give leave to begin this service?”

“Indeed there is, Majesty. One of your goddaughters from my brother Ioan’s get, needs a place. My mother fears, and I agree, that if she were to stay with her father that some ill might befall her. Especially once both of her sisters leave her today.”

“What is the child’s name?”

“Mari, my king.”

“Mari. We shall talk of Mari later. For now, take your places. Let this wedding begin.”

The bride and groom took their place underneath the flower festooned wedding arch. When they were settled, the King tilted his head toward the priest indicating that he begin the ceremony. The priest jumped and started reading from the book of the Creator, his tongue tripping over the words in his nervousness.

“What do you think he wishes to talk to us about?”

Richard shrugged. “I do not know. I imagine he wishes to ask us to find her a husband.”

“You’ve become that good of a matchmaker?”

“My dear, without boasting I am the best.”

“Oh really?” Alais asked her plucked brow arched. “Why do you feel that way?”

“In addition to our own marriage and that of Sir Owen’s, I also negotiated our son’s marriage. And despite Madeleine’s protests, they both are quite happy together.”

“So three matches.”

“You make it sound like such a small number.”

“My lord, it is a small number. Not even a full complement of fingers.”

Richard looked a bit crestfallen at her words. “It is not as if I have much call to use my matchmaking skills.”

“Perhaps you’d best abdicate to pursue this passion of yours.”

“Alais, are you insane?”

“No more than you, my husband.”

Richard sighed. “Your point is well taken. Still, I do have to admit there is something satisfying in making a good match.”

“That is because you can see the results of your actions, whereas with other decisions you make the results can take years or decades to come to their full fruition.”

“I am very lucky I married you.”

“Yes, you are, now, we should pay attention to the wedding.”

Up at the front, the priest continued to drone on while the newlyweds stood under the arch fidgeting nervously.

Nor were they the only ones fidgeting. Across the aisle from Mari and Janet, sat Gregory Roseland and Prince Lionel. Throughout the ceremony both males had been struggling to sit still. Lionel because he was a bundle of nervous energy. Gregory fidgeted for a different reason.

“Who is that girl seated over there? Is my robe over wrinkled?” Gregory asked smoothing his velvet robe while glancing over the top of the prince’s head to the women seated across from him.

Lionel gave Gregory a confused look. “Who? The nun?”

“Not the nun! The one sitting next to her.”

“How should I know? Why are you so interested?”

“She’s the loveliest creature I have ever seen.”

“A girl? Yuck! I’d much prefer a horse.”

“Lionel, you might find in time that you will prefer women to horses,” Gregory said softly.

“Never. Horses are preferable to women any day.”

“Whatever you say, my prince.”

Sitting in front of Mari, the girl Gregory found lovely, sat Ianto and Branwen. Branwen was struggling to keep from yawning openly at the seemingly never-ending ceremony, but Ianto seemed oddly engrossed in the service.

“If this priest drones on much longer, I fear I will fall asleep where I sit.”

“Really, sister? In truth, I find this most fascinating.”

Branwen stared at him in astonishment. “Surely you must be jesting.”

“Why do you say that? I find the passage he is reading most intriguing despite the reader’s very obvious nervousness. I only wish I could study it further rather than hearing the book piecemeal.”

“But only priests are allowed access to the book of the Creator, the church states that the Creator’s words are not meant for the people.”

Ianto sighed. “I know and it saddens me greatly. I would gladly renounce my heirship and join the church if I could.”

“Why?”

“I’ve always longed to know the Creator. To know what she intended and how she fashioned this world. If I must give up worldly possessions to learn this, then I would do so and gladly.”

Branwen stared at him again. “You are as insane as our father. Why would you ever want to give up possessions or comfort? And for what? Words? You are not thinking clearly, brother.”

“I care not for such things! What life would I have as another worthless lord continuing a cursed line? It is not what I want! I want knowledge and the ability to think for myself. Not to follow some meaningless tradition and spawn more babies. Dear Creator, the very thought nauseates me.”

Branwen nodded understanding her brother’s desire. “Then why not renounce heirship? It is not as if you are our only brother.”

“I do not wish to disappoint Father or Grandmother.”

“I do not believe there is enough left of the man our father was in the shell he is now to notice. As for Grandmother, I truly think her dearest wish is for us to be happy.”

“Do you really think so?”

Branwen shrugged. “As much as one can be. I know one thing, though.”

“And what is that?”

“You would make a far better speaker than the father in front of us.”

“Branwen!”

Finally the sermon came to a close, much to the relief of the listeners. However, none were happier than Owen and Aurora who had been forced to stand for the duration with everyone’s eyes on them.

In stark contrast to the long sermon, their vows were blessedly sweet. Owen promising to honor, provide and protect his bride. While Aurora swore to honor, keep, and obey her groom.

With the exchange of rings to symbolize their eternal devotion to each other, Owen and Aurora were wed.

The congregation as a whole gave a sigh of relief that the long ceremony was over.

Leaping from their seats, the guests started mingling among each other, many taking the opportunity to make a good impression on the royalty in attendance. Meanwhile, the children started playing various games totally unaware of their various stations in life.

Owen motioned for the king to join him. “Your Majesty, if we could continue our conversation about my niece.”

“Mari? Am I correct?”

“Indeed you are, Majesty. She is a good girl and a virtuous one,” Owen started.

“You wish me to find her a husband,” the king interrupted.

Owen tilted his head, thinking quickly. “I had not considered it, to be honest my king. I merely was going to ask if there was a place for her in your household. I had not considered marrying her off, although I think that she would like to be a wife one day.”

“Then I should find her a husband!”

“If I may interrupt, my lord,” Alais said walking up to the men. “I think that both of your ideas have merit.”

“Listen to my queen, always the diplomat. What is that Alais?”

“I was merely thinking that our daughter-in-law’s retinue is most sparse and I find that it is easiest to make a match for someone if they know him. What say you, my lords?”

“I think my queen is still the most intelligent woman in the land. And you, Sir Owen?”

Owen was unable to keep his happiness out of his voice. “Perfect! Mari should be well pleased. You are indeed fortunate in your queen and we are all fortunate to have you for a king.”

Richard smiled. “It is good to know that you have not lost your courtier’s tongue.”

The subject of their conversation, Mari, was busy elsewhere. Gregory Roseland had made the decision that he wasn’t going to let the opportunity to get to know the object of his affection get away from him.

“My lady, if I could be so bold as to as your name? I have been ensnared by your beauty and admit I feel no urge to escape.”

Mari stiffened as her innate shyness took over. “I did not mean to, my lord.”

Seeing that his forward behavior wasn’t having the affect he wanted, Gregory switched tactics. “I’m sorry, lady. I did not mean to be so abrupt. Forgive me. Gregory Roseland, merchant’s son and sometime royal advisor, at your service.”

Mari glanced back over her shoulder. “I am Mari Tudor, my lord, I am not of much import.”

“I would disagree with you, Mistress Mari. I find you most important and would love the opportunity to get know you better.”

“I am afraid I will not be able to do that.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because my lord, I have duties to attend to and so do you.”

Gregory looked around and noticed that Mari had spoken truly. Lionel was standing next to him while one of Mari’s cousins was demanding her attention. “I see you are correct.”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you for the kind words…th-they meant a lot to me. Fare thee well.”

“It was my pleasure,” Gregory said sketching a bow.

Up near the front, Owen approached his new bride, “The king has given us permission to leave.”

“Oh thank the Creator, I thought this day would never end.”

“So shall we go?”

“Lead the way, my lord.”

When they got to their home, Owen took care of their horses while Aurora dismissed the tower’s servants for the night. Then, she set to work making a wedding feast for her husband.

While the food was cooking, Owen came in and found Aurora working in the kitchen.

“Wife, do we not have servants?” he asked.

“We do, my lord. But just this once, I wanted to be alone with just you.”

“Oh.”

“Besides, how else can I show that I am a good chatelaine if I do not know how to cook?”

“How is it, my lord?”

“It is good. I see you fixed yourself something else.”

“Porridge with a bit of honey and mint. I admit I am a bit nervous about tonight.”

Owen looked at her in confusion. “But I thought you were married before.”

“I was.”

“I do not understand.”

“You know that I was married before. But I was very young when the contract was drawn up and my husband was very old. By the time I was old enough to receive his attentions, he was most infirm. I spent all of our marriage caring for my husband as he wasted away.”

“I’m sorry,” Owen said automatically. “Did you come to care for your husband?”

“Not in that way, Owen. He was like a grandfather to me. Kindly. Encouraged me to read and educate myself. But as a man, I felt nothing. And I honestly believe that he felt the same. When he died, I felt relief.”

“Then how did you come to know so much that goes on between man and maid?”

“Owen, my dear lord, you are such an innocent. My mother explained to me what to expect and servants talk.”

“Oh. You know I meant no disrespect.”

“I know,” she answered. “Now, if you have eaten your fill our marriage bed awaits.”

Owen gulped nervously.

The two made their way up to Aurora’s solar and shed their clothes. The both sat down upon the coverlet.

“I’ve never been naked in front of a woman before,” Owen admitted.

“I promise not to laugh, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does not.”

“I tried. Still, you must remember I am as innocent as you, my lord.”

Owen gathered her into his arms, looking into her eyes. “I forget that. You seem so knowledgeable about so many things the fact that there is this one thing that I am your equal in ignorance escapes my recollection. So how do we wish to do this?”

Aurora leaned back and pulled Owen down to her. “Why do we not learn together?”

Later that night, after they had both been fully worn out by the events of the day, Aurora and Owen pulled on a few things and settled under the covers.

“You know, this is nice. I get cold at night.”

Owen slid over. “I seem to recall you mentioning that.”

“It is true. The tower is cold.”

“Aye, that it is, but our bed will not be.”

“No, our bed will not be,” Aurora agreed.

The next few months were spent in idyllic companionship.

“Are you feeling aright, beloved?” Owen asked as he sat down with a psalter.

Aurora grimaced as an expression of nausea crossed her face. “It is nothing most likely something I ate.”

“Shall I speak with the cook?”

“No, that is my duty. I am sure this will pass.”

“If you say,” Owen said dubiously, returning to his book.

“Aurora!” he exclaimed as his wife threw down the book she was reading and dashed toward the privy.

“I’m fine!” she called. “Just a bit queasy.”

But Aurora was more than just queasy. Concerned for her welfare, Owen ordered her to bed and in the meantime found a new cook.

The new cook, tried several different recipes.

But soon it was clear that Aurora did not just have a mild case of food poisoning

And Owen worried more and more about his wife.

“I told you I am fine,” she said one night as he crawled into bed.

“Get some sleep.”

“I am not tired,” Aurora protested.

“Still, get some sleep.”

Aurora was unable to sleep. The nausea that had been plaguing her for the last few weeks seemed to be gone and in its place a sense of restlessness took over.

She got dressed and tried spinning for a while.

But that couldn’t hold her attention long and her clothes felt tight, so very tight.

She changed into a looser tunic and overdress which seemed to help relieve the pressure some.

She then debated penning a letter to her brother but couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

Then all of a sudden, she felt a flutter in her belly and she knew what had been wrong with her. She was pregnant. She smiled in relief, Owen would be so pleased.

As soon as Owen was up, Aurora approached him barely able to keep the smile off of her face. “I know what was troubling me, my lord.”

“Oh have you become a physician during your infirmity?”

“Not quite, it seems that I am expecting a child. Your child. You are to be a father.”

“A child! Truly!”

“Yes.”

A huge grin split Owen’s face. “May I touch it?”

“Of course.”

Owen reached forward and ran his hand over the slightly distended stomach of his wife.

His grin softened, becoming more of a wistful smile. “A child. We are to have a child,” he breathed.

“Aye, we are, Owen.”

“Thank you, my dearest wife, thank you.”

….

“Do not thank me yet! Until the babe is born and is healthy, it is bad luck. I do not wish to invite misfortune.”

“Still, I am most grateful. You shall have a safe pregnancy, I know it. The Creator will not deny me this small bit of happiness.”

“I hope not, my lord.”

“I shall tell her my wishes now.”

Owen went outside and looked up at the pre-dawn sky. “I know you are watching. I have always felt your presence, so I do not think it presumptuous to ask a boon of you. Please, let this child be born healthy and Aurora be safely delivered. It is all I ask. Whatever else you do with my life, let me have this,” he pleaded with the Creator. For the next hour he watched the sky for some kind of sign that his prayer was heard but nothing happened.

Thinking that maybe he could see better through the farseeing glass Aurora had gifted him he put his eye to it.

And then took it away again just as quickly as the image of his groom and the cook’s daughter came into focus.

Shaking his head, he resigned himself that no sign was forthcoming and went back inside the keep.

“What were you doing outside?” Aurora asked as he sat down to a breakfast of meat pies.

Not wanting to tell her of his plea, Owen gave her a partial answer. “I was looking through that device you gave me.”

“The telescope? And what did you see?”

Owen blushed. “I am not sure I want to say.”

Aurora laughed. “I can hazard a guess.”

“I’d rather you not. My eyes are quite scarred from the experience I do not need my ears as well.”

“Fine. I shall not traumatize you further. Only have a care at night. I have heard that some people have spied fairies through the lens and as you know from the tales the fairies do not like to have their revels spied upon by mortals.”

“Fairies! Ha! You jest.”

“I do not! Why I have heard tales of men and women being abducted by fairies and sent back with changeling children.”

“Pre-posterous! Here, I had best fill your mouth with something other than these strange ideas.”

“Owen,” she said around the mouthful of food. “Please, heed my warning. I do not know what form these changeling children will take or for how long the fairies will take you. It could be years. I do not wish to live that time without you.”

“I shall be cautious.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said blowing him a kiss across the table.

“Now, I must be off. I need to go check up on the construction of the new mill. The old one left far too many bits of grit in the flour.”

“Be safe, my love.”

After Owen left, Aurora busied herself in the small kitchen garden. While this was menial work for most ladies, she took pleasure in making green things grow. The keep was too new to have a pleasure garden yet. And as Owen was quick to point out, it was a poor lord who skimped on the fortification and was extravagant when it came to beauty.

So while Aurora bloomed, so did her garden.

Late one night, Aurora was awakened with the unmistakable pains associated with childbirth. Calling for Owen, she ordered him to fetch the midwife.

Several hours later, Aurora was safely delivered of a daughter named Judith.

“I am sorry, my lord it was not a son. We can try again as soon as I am able.”

“Shh… do not worry about it. We have time. You are still young and I do not believe I have lost my vigor.”

Aurora smiled. “Definitely not, my lord. So you are not angered at me?”

Owen drew Aurora closer. “I could never be angry at you, beloved. So long as you are safe and my child is healthy I am the happiest man in all of Yorkcaster.”

“Thank you, Owen.” And with those words Aurora fell asleep in her husband’s arms, their new daughter nestled between them.

~*~

Yay for romance and love all around.

So I’ve finally managed to get to generation 2, although since this is for the most part a patriarchy I’ve got to keep trying for a boy. I’ve got a plan for if I only have girls in a generation but I’d rather not have to implement it for gen 2.

We are going to be seeing a lot less of Rhodri’s family from here on out. While I love them, they aren’t as important as Owen’s. Besides, the hobby people keep stalking Morgan. I think he takes after his unrevealed parent way too much.

I need to touch on how the supernatural is going to work in my game. I made a decision that if the creatures were mentioned or included in the folklore of the time I could use them because they were considered real back then. The people believed in witches, ghosts, and fairies. Vampires and werewolves were not common stories in England but were prevalent in other countries and Scotland had Selkies which were women who turned into seals and vice versa.

So what does that mean? Well, no Genies (unless I decide to build an Ottoman/Moorish hood). No bigfoots or servos or plantsims. Vampires and werewolves will be rare if ever seen. Aliens will be changelings from Fairy abductions. And witches, well, if I ever feel like hitting up Arthurian Legend they will show up. However, the most common supernatural you will see is ghosts.

The joys of imports… Sometimes if you build in separate groups family ties don’t get transferred. David Doran making out with his daughter… not something I want to see. They quickly got flagged with the sim blender as family but still, it was a brain bleach moment.

I tend to bring in imports in batches of 8. The next hood to get populated is the University hood so if you or any of your sims want to subject yourself to the dangers of this legacy, you can reply to this LJ post.

http://leilia.livejournal.com/293305.html

Ahhhh weddings, I hate them. With a passion. I actually had to stage twice to get some of the conversation shots. Not as many as some… But it doesn’t help that the lot crashed twice because of the large number of selectable sims on it.

Not to mention I am really growing to hate flashing blue accessories. REALLY HATING THEM!!!

Weddings were big deals in medieval times. Most actually took place outside of the church and were just filed with the church when they happened. It wasn’t until the Council of Trent in the 17th century that weddings HAD to be performed by the church.

So that is about it from me.

Thank you so much for reading this.

Special thanks go out to all of the CC creators who make my game look so good. Additionally I need to thank Orikes for the cover, Peasant007 for helping through two bouts of writers block, and Dicreasy for proofreading.

Until next time, happy simming!