C. Brittain - Daughter of Magic

“I’m sorry, my lady,” said Paul to Justinia as the carpet shot away from the castle at last, “that you weren’t in Yurt at a more propitious time. Usually it’s not nearly this dangerous! But it will be good to have a chance to meet the mage; I heard all about him when I was little. You’ll have to come back for a visit just to see us again, not to hide from your enemies. How about Christmas?”

“I fear,” said Justinia with a shudder, “that it would be quite cold at Christmas.”

“But I expect you’ve never seen snow,” said Paul, somewhat uncertainly. “You might like it.”

She shuddered again but did not answer. Gwennie, sitting on the other side of the king, gave a small smile intended for no one but herself.

Theodora squeezed my hand as we flew along. “I’ve been thinking, Daimbert,” she said, very softly. “You know you have- For six years now you-” She paused, apparently embarrassed to go on.

“Yes?” I prompted.

She put her face on my shoulder and laughed a little. “That’s it. You know what I mean. That’s what I’m saying. Yes.”

I pushed her away to look at her, feeling a great surge of hope. The dimple came and went in her cheek. This was not exactly the most private place to have this conversation, sitting on a flying carpet surrounded by thirty children and several of the chief dignitaries of two kingdoms, but I didn’t care. “Yes, you’ll marry me?”

Elerius glanced toward us then discreetly looked away. Theodora laughed and hid her face again. “We know we love each other,” she murmured, “and for a while we were competing for who would die for the other. Everybody knows about us now, or at least everyone in Yurt and Caelrhon. Your king,” dropping her voice even lower, “doesn’t seem to plan to dismiss you for having a liaison with a witch. And your school’s best graduate has been nothing but gracious to me. I said for six years that I didn’t want to marry you because marriage would destroy your career. Now that it’s clear that it won’t, it would be churlish of me to refuse.”

I held her tight, too happy to speak for a moment. Warm summer air whipped past us as we flew. “I don’t know where we’ll live or what we’ll do,” I said then, “but we’ll work out something. As soon as we get back to Caelrhon, or tomorrow for sure, after we’ve recovered, we’ll have Joachim marry us.”

Over her head I caught the bishop’s eye for a second. On his lips was a genuine smile.

“And maybe,” she added shyly, “we could think about a brother or sister for Antonia. Maybe not a dozen children like your king wants, but wouldn’t it be exciting to have two?”

I looked over towards our daughter. She had climbed into Hildegarde’s lap and was trying to cheer her up. “If you stop being sad,” she promised, “I’ll teach you how to turn somebody into a frog.”

“Exciting,” I said, “is not the word for it.”