CHAPTER EIGHT
Arriving in the foyer, Deckard split off from Evylin and Thom. He headed for the clerk’s desk while they went toward the kitchen in search of breakfast. Maurus was waiting for him, readily pointing him to the door behind the desk, stating that Lord Fishere was inside and expecting him.
Deckard thanked the man, slipped behind the counter, and stepped into a small office. Despite the light brown and cream wallpaper and the singular window that lit the space, a wall of cabinets made the cramped interior feel even darker and more constricted.
Behind the large desk sat Fishere, his gray hair catching the dim light. He wore a rich frock coat of deep blue that contrasted heavily with his ivory cravat. Though he was clearly aged, the man carried an intelligence in his eyes that engendered respect.
Two crimson chairs faced the desk, one occupied by a woman, while three men stood at the back, crowding the small room.
“I apologize,” Deckard said before realizing who these additional individuals were. “Have I arrived early?”
“No, no,” Archminister Fishere said. “We were waiting for your arrival to begin, Colonel.”
Deckard’s response was late in coming as he held Ethenn’s gaze for a prolonged, confused second before turning to the Calders quizzically. Ilain sat in the chair while her brothers stood behind her.
Drawing in a breath, Deckard worked to clear his confusion. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” he said to the archminister. “What is this meeting about?”
“We’ll get to that in a moment,” Fishere said, then motioned to the chair in front of Ethenn. “There is a seat open if anyone would like to take it.”
None of the men moved.
Fishere waved a hand dismissively. “Very well. At the request of Highlady Calder and Corporal Loxley, we have assembled to process their formal appeal for marriage.”
Deckard blinked, certain he’d misheard.
“As per protocol in the Alliance, the appeal must be met with a short hearing to ascertain the validity of such a union,” Fishere continued before Deckard could ask for clarification.
He addressed the Calders with a glance. “For the benefit of the colonel and corporal, I will explain the process of such hearings and subsequent betrothals, shall I?”
All three Calders nodded their agreement.
Fishere turned to the Ephrian men. “In the Alliance, we revere marriage and do what we can to protect the bonds of its holy estate, so they are entered into with the utmost care. We strive to keep personal regulations minimal. However, as magical individuals carry the touch of Allore, we require hearings such as these for any Warrior or Mage who wishes to enter a binding union, whether with another Warrior or Mage or with a non-magical individual.”
Deckard furrowed his brow. “You mean you require this exclusively of magical people?” he asked.
“Yes,” Fishere confirmed. “Due to their power and extended years, they are held to a higher standard. We believe their gifts grant them an Allore-given responsibility to take care of others. Therefore, we have a process when one of them—or in this case, two—wishes to marry.”
Though Deckard wasn’t fully comfortable with such proceedings, he kept his thoughts to himself. If Ilain and Ethenn weren’t bothered by this, then who was he to stop them? Appealing this method of governing was an issue for another time.
“While our fledgling government does require the notice of all marriages,” Fishere went on, “we specifically require Warriors and Mages to present their supplication to the Administration for approval.
As the archminister, I am warranted to approve or deny your request myself.
While each case varies—such as if a Mage wants to marry another Mage or a Warrior wants to be with a non-magical individual—since Highlady Calder as a Mage and Corporal Loxley as a Warrior wish to marry, creating the possibility of Bonding, we take extra care to ensure the union is good and beneficial to both of you as well as to our nation.
“So,” the elderly man clasped his hands on the desk, smiling, “the purpose of our meeting here today is to verify if it is in the best interest of Highlady Ilain Calder and Corporal Ethenn Loxley to join in holy matrimony for the sake of one another and the people of Allund.”
The realization of what was happening finally hit Deckard.
Ethenn and Ilain were asking to be married.
Why? He’d known the young man had feelings for the woman, but she’d seemed ambivalent toward his affections at best. And suddenly, he felt he was back in Whickam Village, watching himself be duped into marriage with Evylin—which turned out to be the best and most difficult thing that had ever happened to him.
“Now,” Fishere said, looking directly at Deckard, “part of our hearing includes the benefit of what we call advocates: people who stand at the side of the Warrior or Mage to give counsel. As Mr. Calder and Highlord Calder are here to advocate for their sister, Highlady Calder, I asked Corporal Loxley who he’d like to stand at his side, and he’s chosen you, Colonel Deckard. ”
Raising his chin, Deckard turned to Ethenn in surprise. The young man met his stare unflinchingly. Perhaps he, too, had considered the similarities between their unions.
“I’m honored,” Deckard said to Ethenn. “I hope to provide the best advice I can.”
As Ethenn returned his smile, Fishere nodded approvingly.
“You’ll do just fine, Colonel,” he said.
“Let’s proceed to the hearing, shall we?
Corporal Loxley, we’ll start with you. Please state why you believe your marriage to Highlady Ilain Calder will be in her best interest as well as the interest of Allund. ”
Ethenn turned to the Archminister, eyes wide. His hands gripped the back of the chair as the faintest blush crept above his jacket collar. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Archminister,” Ilain said, drawing their attention. “Ethenn isn’t known for his eloquence, verboseness, or openness.”
Fishere gave her a fatherly grin. “He needs to explain his position, my lady.”
“He doesn’t have a position on the matter beyond his feelings for me.”
“I can speak for myself, Ilain.” Ethenn’s sharp tone cut through the room, drawing them all to stare at him. His fingers were almost white on the chair’s back, but he held Ilain’s gaze with resolution.
While Ilain blinked in shock, Deckard, Auden, and Vayden watched carefully.
Used to Ethenn’s quiet nature, Deckard had to admit his assertiveness at this moment boded well against Ilain’s more forceful personality.
He’d feared the Mage would cow the young man too much for him to be of any true use to her.
Fishere appeared amused. “Do share, then, Corporal,” he said.
Ethenn straightened his shoulders to address the archminister.
“I’ll speak of the benefits to Allund first,” he said.
“I’m not wholly certain of all the . . .
outcomes, but Ilain and I want to Bond, which means we will be as Allore intended and capable of serving Allund as a nation in whatever way the Administration sees fit.
As Ilain is the most powerful Mage in two centuries, I should think our union would be of great use to your government and, thus, a great boon to the people of Allund.
You can correct me if I’m wrong on that, sir. ”
Fishere said nothing, so Ethenn continued, “As to our marriage being in Ilain’s best interest .
. .” He paused as though to keep himself from faltering as the red flush spread up his neck.
“I love her. I would do anything for her. As she wishes to marry a Warrior and Bond with him, I don’t believe there is a single other man in this world so uniquely qualified to ensure her happiness. ”
The room was silent as they let his words sink in.
Deckard shifted awkwardly behind the young man. Had he sounded this impassioned when he asked to marry Evylin? He doubted it. Because, despite the interest he’d held for Evylin at the time, he hadn’t loved her. He’d only wanted to.
But Ethenn . . . If his words were true, he already loved Ilain.
Did she love him in return?
“Well,” Fishere said and flashed a grin in Ilain’s direction. “It appears you misjudged your young suitor, my lady. I’d say that was satisfactorily eloquent.”
Ilain returned the dry grin, though her eyes kept darting to Ethenn as though she was surprised by the feelings he’d expressed.
“Thank you, Corporal,” Fishere said. “Now, let’s hear Highlady Calder’s testament: Please state why you believe your marriage to Corporal Ethenn Loxley will be in his best interest as well as the interest of Allund.”
Ilain hesitated, playing with the ruby ring on her index finger.
At last, she rested her hands in her lap and sat up straight.
“I’ll be as straightforward as I can,” she said.
“You heard Ethenn—he loves me. What better interest could there be than returning his love with my undying dedication and affection? Our marriage will give me the opportunity to love him the same way he loves me.”
Deckard wet his bottom lip, recognizing the truth Ilain had skirted with her words.
“And you know perfectly well, Edmaund, that my Bonding is what the Administration has wanted for nearly thirty years. Allund’s best interest is my appointment as the head of the Order of the Flame.
” The light caught Ilain’s hair, making it glow brightly as she leaned forward in her seat.
“You’ve prepared me for this since I was sixteen.
All you required of me was to find a Warrior to whom I’d pledge my troth.
Well—” She motioned toward Ethenn. “I’ve found him. ”
Her face grew serious. “This marriage isn’t for me, and it isn’t for Ethenn,” she said flatly. “It’s for the Allund we’ve all sacrificed to build.”