“Yes, I do,” he acknowledged quietly. Obviously troubled, he stood and paced the short length of the table near the couch. “I like you, Garth. You’ve proven yourself a dozen times over, in the short time I’ve spent in your company. You are a good man. But you’re also right—you’re not what I wanted for my daughter.”
For some reason, even though I expected them, hearing those words hurt—like someone punched me in the chest, bruising my heart.
“I also know,” he stopped in place, meeting my eyes with solemn resolve, “that you, unlike those titled or wealthy men, are
worthy
of her.”
The constriction on my heart eased, letting me breathe again. “Thank you.”
“That doesn’t mean that I don’t want my daughter to marry a wealthy man,” he added, quite stubbornly.
Strange as it may sound, I sympathized. Every father wanted the same thing.
Delheart fell back to pacing, face contorted in a thoughtful frown. “You said Chatta knows about this?”
I nodded in confirmation.
He shot me a penetrating look under furrowed eyebrows. “I bet she really raked you over the coals.”
“I still haven’t regained full hearing in my left ear,” I drawled in response, making him grin.
That grin faded as he paced a bit more, thinking the situation through. “Are you able to care for her? You still live there in the Palace, on Guin’s largesse.”
“That’s actually not quite correct. I live in the Palace for Guin’s convenience, and because I frankly don’t have the time to shop for a house.” I swallowed an anticipatory smile at the surprise I was about to hand him. “Honestly, if I wished, I could buy any house I wanted and live in comfort.” I could see by his face that he didn’t believe me, so I put it into solid mathematical terms for him. “Sir, think about this. In the past two years that I’ve been here, I’ve only taken leave for a collective two months off in all. Guin pays me five golds a day that I work for him. Six hundred and seventy days, roughly, times five is…?”
His eyes bugged out as he did the math in his head. “T-that’s over three thousand golds!” he choked out.
“Plus interest,” I added sadistically, “because it’s been doing nothing but sitting in the bank. I haven’t really spent any of it. I haven’t had the time to.” All of my equipment and travel expenses were taken care of by Guin because I was Jaunten and his Mage. The one exception to my enforced thrift was the house that I had bought for my parents when they moved to Hain.
Delheart was apparently doing more calculations, and the total that popped up in his head made his knees buckle. I sat back, enjoying his expression. Surprising Delheart took skill, timing, and a lot of luck. It was why I enjoyed it so much when I pull it off.
When he finally managed to get his mouth working again, he sounded very strained. “Garth, most titled Lords don’t have that much money. I thought you said you weren’t wealthy!”
“I’m not, in comparison to some. But I think you can agree that I am well able to provide for your daughter.”
“And then some,” he agreed, voice strained. “But that brings up another point. As Guin’s Mage, you are constantly away from home.”
“That won’t last much longer,” I pointed out. “For one thing, Trev’nor will come into his powers very soon. I think that within the next five years, I could take him in as an apprentice, and a few years later, he will be taking half of the work load from my shoulders. That doesn’t include the very real possibility that we could find another Earth Mage in Chahir before then. We have more Mages now than in any other age in our history, sir. I don’t have to do everything all at once anymore.”
“That’s very true,” he agreed slowly. “You’ll still be away from home for days at a time.”
I forced myself to be patient. “That’s the case with any magician. Respectfully, sir, you yourself are called away from home on business days—sometimes weeks—at a time. Besides, Chatta is my partner, and we are usually sent on missions together. While I might be gone from home frequently, Chatta will be right there with me.”
He had no good riposte to that.
“I’m running out of good objections,” he observed to himself, a rueful smile slowly spreading over his face. “The truth is, Garth, that’s my little girl. And I hate to think of her as some grownup, married woman.”
“I think I can understand that,” I answered cautiously. “I have two sisters, and I feel the same way about them. In fact, I don’t think there’s any man on this earth who is really good enough for either one of them.”
“Yes, you do understand a little of what I’m going through,” he acknowledged wryly. “But you had a valid point earlier, Garth, perhaps the most important point in our discussion this evening. My Chatta is a strong willed woman, and what she wants, she gets. Apparently, she wants you. I’m going to save myself a prolonged headache and skip arguing with her about it.”
He said this with such dry humor that I didn’t take any offense. “Wise of you sir. That’s the way I deal with differences of opinions with Chatta too.”
“Just do me one favor?”
He had been far more reasonable than I expected, so I decided to hear him out. “What would that be?”
“Wait a while? I know that you’re both responsible adults, but you’re still very young adults. I think you need to mature a bit.”
“We think so as well,” I assured him. “Chatta and I discussed a lengthy engagement, somewhere around six months or so.” Which would put us at about nineteen when we got married.
Delheart looked extremely relieved. “That sounds fine. Now, is there anything formal that I need to say?”
“Not really. Do you release me from the Oath of Protection?”
He nodded firmly. “I do.”
“Then I give you this oath in its place.” Even though I wanted this, and I had no doubt in my mind about that, I still felt my stomach begin to twist itself into knots. I was taking a great deal of responsibility onto myself, after all—the happiness and wellbeing of another soul. I ignored it as best I could, and willed my voice to remain strong and steady. Standing, I extended a hand to him, pronouncing the words of the oath as I did so. “On my honor, and by the name of my family, I will take L-Chattamoinita Delheart under the protection of my name, and swear to cherish and protect her for the rest of my life. Sven Delheart, father to L-Chattamoinita Delheart, will you accept my oath?”
His eyes were bright with unshed tears, voice husky and tight as he accepted my hand in a firm clasp. “I do.”
I squeezed once, then let go. I tried to keep my face straight, but I couldn’t help smiling like a lunatic. I just hope it didn’t look demented right at that moment because I felt like I was flying in a thousand different directions at once.
Trying to think of something to say, the door opened admitting Chatta—looking particularly lovely in a dark red dress and her hair done up—talking as she came through the doorway.
“Da, I want to…er…” she paused, studying both of us. “Am I interrupting something?” she inquired, hope flashing across her face.
I knew what she was really asking. “He said yes.”
“
Yes!
” she bounced over to tackle me. So used to this reaction from her, I caught her without thinking about it, arms wrapped tight around her waist. She was laughing in sheer delight, and just for the fun of it, I twirled her around once, which made her laugh all the harder. The sound settled into my bones, warming me up like a roaring hearth fire on a cold evening.
I reluctantly let go of her so she could hug her father.
“Da, thank you!” she said, face pressed against his chest. Delheart hugged her back just as tight, torn between smiling and crying.
“I could never say no to you,” he told her, shaking his head. “I truly can’t say it now, not when you’re giving me such an excellent son-in-law.”
I couldn’t help but stand a little taller at those words.
“But you have to wait a while,” he said sternly.
“Oh we will,” she assured him. “We have to tidy up a lot of things and get a house ready and everything before we’re married. We think that will take at least half a year.”
I know it was silly, but I liked the use of that “we.” It made it more official for me, somehow.
“I think that’s wise,” Delheart agreed in relief. “But now, we need to tell your mother. She’ll definitely want to hear about this, and I am sure she will be asking a
few
questions of her own.”
“And my parents,” I realized suddenly, with a stark picture of my mother’s face in my mind. I’d been so focused on Delheart’s approval that I hadn’t even thought to mention the possibility to them.
That oversight was probably going to get me into a lot of trouble.
“Garth…” Chatta’s expression turned slightly appalled. “When I marry you, my name will become Chahiran, won’t it?”
I wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “Yes…why?”
“So my name would be Rheben-chattamoinitaan?”
It almost sounded like some sort of a rare disease. “Actually, it would be,” I agreed, fighting a smile.
“That’s an absolute mouthful!” she complained, hands planted on her hips. “Da, what did you do to me?”
“It was your mother’s idea to name you that, not mine!” Delheart protested. “And how were we to know that you’d marry a Chahiran Mage?”
“Maybe you could leave your name shortened,” I suggested, struggling to keep my face straight, and avoid getting smacked.
Can’t laugh, can’t laugh, can’t laugh…
“Rhebenchattan isn’t too bad.”
“At least you can say it without having to take a breath in the middle,” she grumbled.
~*~
My family took the news of Chatta’s and my engagement with hearty congratulations and comments that followed along the lines of “It’s about time!”
I ignored those.
Mom was all ready to sit down and start going over wedding plans when I pointed out that we wouldn’t be able to have a wedding until after the situation with Chahir was at least semi-settled. Judging from her glare, that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear.
Now that I was
finally
free of that Oath of Protection, all I really wanted was a little private time with my fiancée. But with so many friends and family members bombarding me I couldn’t even locate Chatta in the crowd! This was ridiculous. I should have absconded with her tonight and told my family about everything
tomorrow.
Well, maybe it wasn’t too late to abscond with her yet. I knew she was still somewhere around the house, as I could feel her magic quite clearly, but I couldn’t catch sight of her. Somewhere around the kitchen maybe…I passed by the back door when a hand shot inside, grabbed me by the arm, and yanked me onto the back porch. I’d normally be worried and fighting back at this sort of assault—my brothers were notorious for dragging me somewhere where there are no witnesses for pranks—but I recognized who it was. I willingly closed the door before anyone could figure out Chatta and I were out here.
The love of my life stood with a hand on one hip, giving me an exasperated look. “Why did you have to tell everyone
tonight
?”
“I was just wondering the same thing,” I admitted ruefully. “I think my main thought was that my mother would kill me if I delayed telling her.”
“She might have,” Chatta allowed thoughtfully. “But I’d like to have some time for just us.”
“Sounds good to me!” I slipped both arms around her waist and snuggled her body against me tightly. She came into my embrace willingly, sliding her hands up my arms to rest them behind my neck. Chatta was sending me every visual signal that she wanted to kiss me, which matched my designs perfectly. My neck bent slightly, lowering my head towards her. After so many months of wanting this, I could finally,
finally
—
The door behind me creaked on its hinges a little as it opened.
I snapped my head up and around, glaring murder at the interloper that was interrupting such a perfect moment.
Xiaolang poked his head outside, apology in his eyes. “Sorry. Truly. It’s just…I’ve got bad news.”
A selfish part of me wanted to throw my head back and scream with frustration. Couldn’t the bad news have waited five benighted minutes?!
It was Chatta that sighed, reached past me, and took the letter out of Xiaolang’s hands. I let go of her, a little, so that she could unfold the paper and tilt it so we could both read.
I felt my blood go cold.
The letter was from Saroya, addressed to King Guin, but clearly meant for the team. Saroya had discovered a handful of Doms, those in their later years, who were willing to defy the King’s orders by giving refuge to the Star Order Priests. Among these were some of the more powerful and influential Doms. His request was for the team to go back into Chahir immediately, and help pinpoint which Doms for certain had sheltered Priests inside their provinces. The Star Order was off balance, and he didn’t want to give them time to regroup and set up a power base again with the aid of these Doms. Of course, we were the only hope that he had. The only people in Chahir that could detect magic were the Priests themselves.
I felt like swearing.
“Okay,” I admitted grudgingly, “I can see why you didn’t wait. Do we need to leave now?”
“Situations like this, in my experience, are best dealt with as quickly as possible, before they’re given a chance to grow into impossible situations.” Xiaolang rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I wish we could have just had one more day…well. If we leave tonight, we’ll be able to start recon tomorrow. Even a few hours at this point will make a huge difference.”
I hated the idea, but I knew he was right.
Chatta let out another soft resigned sigh and handed the letter back to him. “I’ll go pack. I’ll be back here in an hour.”
Xiaolang nodded both his approval, and his thanks. “I’ve just sent the rest of the team off to get ready.”
As Chatta slipped away, I felt a strange sense of loss for that broken moment, like part of me was leaving with her. Realizing that I had to do something immediately, to salvage a part of that special moment, I held her hand long enough to press a kiss against the palm, and then closed her fingers over it.