Thu May 31, 2018 2:31 pm
Late night of the thirty-first of the fifth month, 218 AR.
The mansion house of the Treadwells.
The master bedroom.
"Seventy-and-three years old tomorrow, mmph, Dearest." So says the Lord Steward as he wheezes huffily into the bed he shares with his wife, taking a moment on sitting to scratch busily at the underside of his exposed overgrown belly. Pajamas and nightgown are tossed aside tonight, leaving only undergarments to wear in stifling heat keeping the house warm, bodies sticky with sweat, and window shutters partially cracked. "And we have many more years ahead of us, hmm hmm."
"I think I shall never be fully accepting of how you know such things, Aloisius," comes the huffy reply from Alice beside him, wiping sweat from her face and arms under her nightgown. "But I have decided to stop asking about them. Your present, so you know, is hanging in the front of your wardrobe there. It is the red vest with the big buttons."
"Thank you, Lovey, mmph mmph. Yours is in the top of your cassone, hrm. I had Regis make you a new outer dress, mmph. He said it is blue, hm, and it ought to fit. He had me try it on, hm hm, since you were not there, and I was, and, well. . . ." Aloisius blushes a warm red in the dark.
"And you and I are close enough matched, yes. Aloisius, I have not been wed with you this long without knowing that much!"
"Hmph. It ought to fit, at least."
"It ought to."
Alice sighs, reaching a hand over to pat the toymaker's belly in the darkness as they finally both stretch and wriggle into the bedsheets. "Good night, Aloisius, and a happy birthday to you tomorrow."
"Happy birthday, Lovey."