Chapter 24 #2
“Marriage records are public information, and your father’s mother has an alert whenever a Ramons engages in matrimony.
She also noticed no name changes were filed.
” She smirked, approached, and patted Erik’s cheek.
“It won’t hurt anything with your Pre-Cana, and we made a few guesses as to the why, which involves anxiety, uncertainty, and a need to move forward with your lives.
We won’t tell your parents, so don’t fret.
If the subject comes up, your father will handle it.
” To make it clear which father she meant, she pointed at mine.
“For all intents and purposes, you are betrothed, but as you are wise and acquiring properties, you have addressed the legal documentation in advance.”
I gulped and eyed my father.
He raised a brow at me. “What happened the last time you stole a cookie out of the jar?”
I was doomed, and if I wanted to emerge somewhat intact, I would tell the story properly, which Erik would enjoy.
“You realized you had given me, an active child, a small lunch, and pretty princesses who get hungry become demonic princesses, so you gave me a second cookie,” I reported.
“No princesses were slain, and you, my loving father, survived the incident unscathed. You also gave me milk so I wouldn’t choke on my illicit cookies.
I even ate all my dinner, and you warned Mom I needed a bigger serving or the cookie jar might not make it. ”
My husband laughed. “How old were you when this happened?”
“I was sixteen,” I confessed.
My father smiled. “I didn’t get mad at you then for meeting your basic needs, even if it did involve robbing your mother’s cookie jar.
I’m not going to get mad at you for meeting your basic needs in the form of securing your yellow hatchling.
I’m satisfied I don’t need to tell Erik what is going to happen to him if he hurts my little princess. ”
“Death, doom, and the removal of my scales comes to mind,” Erik replied, standing his ground. “And here I thought we might have gotten away with it.”
“Perhaps if you hadn’t forgotten it’s a public record, you might have.
You can maintain the ruse, but if you want to hide something like that from us, you need to remember you are dealing with two clans of old dragons and one younger clan of nosy yellow dragons.
” My father eyed Erik and made another adjustment to his tie.
“Now, all I need from you two is some peace and quiet while I take these fools for all they’re worth.
And when the Iraqi aristocrats show up, pretend you’re surprised.
Whether or not you act honored is entirely up to you.
And Erik? However tempting, you can’t punch them for implying my little princess is a broodmare of exemplary breeding.
And don’t lose your temper when they imply she’s not of exemplary breeding. I will make them pay for every insult.”
I hoped my father left Iraq mostly intact once he finished with the country.
“Remember, Dad, I cannot set up archaeological dig sites if you raze the entire country because you’re angry over their behavior.
Mom can handle some petty little men saying bad things about her, as can I.
I will just pretend I know they are beneath me and refuse to acknowledge them unless you, Mom, or Erik make me. ”
“I’m not going to make you,” my husband informed me.
“That’s because you love me and want me to be happy,” I replied. “Now, can you please explain why our kittens are not here? I want my kittens, all of them. I want Tourmaline as well.”
The Yule cat kittens had identified we were suckers and could join us in bed, resulting in a pile of furry bodies. Garnet and Citrine adored their new friends, and they’d bloomed with the new additions to our household.
The pillow thieving kitten had secured her rightful place as my kitten, and we shared a pillow.
Tourmaline had even joined in, choosing to sleep in the nest I’d set up on my nightstand.
If we needed to leave our carbunclo and my hummingbird at home, I held some hope the Yule cats would keep them company and mitigate their loneliness.
“Your kittens and familiar are safely nestled on the plane with the guard Richard handpicked along with a bunch of cranky dragons I picked. They’re safe and sound.
I do not want any of our animals to see any of the nastiness that will surely take place today.
We can’t always protect them from all the evils of the world, but we can protect them today, so we will. You’ll see them soon enough.”
* * *
Monday, June 8, 2167
Samawah
Al Muthanna Governorate, Iraq
When a group of four men stepped into the conference room we would use for the negotiations, I understood what my father had warned us about.
They’d opted to dress in the simplest of robes with unadorned headdresses, and one appeared to have come off some dusty field without caring he trailed in dust.
Everything about their appearance indicated they had no regard for us, who sought their business.
I could only assume they hoped to issue some form of insult, which I would ignore at my father’s recommendation.
While my parents had raised me without the trappings of wealth, it hadn’t taken me long to learn some of the bitter realities of the world.
There were several types of rich people in the world, and I wondered if the men who’d come to talk with us even counted as any of them.
I had met rich people who dressed casually, choosing comfort as their top priority.
They meant no insult, but they also lacked a single care about how the world perceived them.
I appreciated them, and I would likely join their numbers once I got around to accepting I’d contracted a severe case of wealthy.
The four didn’t seem to fit into such a category, as their dress seemed to indicate we were not worth even stopping in a bathroom to freshen up before meeting with us.
Some rich people dressed to serve as a warning to others there was money on the table, serious money—the kind that could purchase thousands of acres without much in the way of thought. We fell into that category, and I disliked it.
Had the four fools used one brain cell among them, they would have opted for opulence over desperation.
Another group of rich people fell in between, choosing comfort sometimes without any issues flaunting their wealth as needed.
Perhaps in time I might become comfortable with the rare flaunt, but thus far, my feet hurt, I would have preferred not having the weight of jewels on my head, and I wanted to fling myself into my pajamas.
The final group of rich people, the one I wanted to be a part of, worked to make certain those around them failed to comprehend their wealth.
They tended to be the kindest, and that was the type of person I wished to be.
The quartet introduced themselves in Arabic, and without missing a beat, my father replied in the same language, although I suspected he used a different dialect.
Something about the men changed, and their eyes hardened.
I wondered what sort of barb my father had opened the negotiations with, but I recognized the truth: thus far, my father held the advantage, as he had been the first to nettle the other into showing emotion.
As a little girl, my father had taught me the value of showcasing emotions—and controlling them—during negotiations.
I hadn’t understood what he meant until witnessing him use their emotions as a weapon in his arsenal.
Then, with a welcoming smile full of lies, my father gestured to the table.
“My daughter and her betrothed enjoy ancient history and the arts, and she has developed a love of your ancient city of Uruk. It has been a significant number of years since anyone has worked the site due to the unfortunate consequences of war. As my daughter requires an excellent betrothal package for her impending wedding ceremony, I wish to take a significant problem off your hands.”
Rather than dance around with the four men, my father held out a chair for my mother first. Erik followed his lead, and once we were seated, my father gestured, which Erik interpreted as his invitation to join me at the table.
My father placed his briefcase down before taking his seat and popping it open.
“While I am under no obligation to share my future plans for non-historic sites, I felt it might provide you with an idea of the scale of the work I wish to do for my daughter’s betrothal.
The building of a resort and museum to showcase the findings of Uruk will help revive tourism and prestige to the area. ”
My father armed himself with a stack of papers, raised a brow at the four men, and waited.
The silence dragged on, and after a few minutes, the quartet joined us at the table, although I noticed they positioned themselves as far from me and my mother as possible.
I foresaw Erik growling, and I nudged his dress shoe with my toe to make certain he held his temper.
The one with the rattiest attire and caked in dirt said something in Arabic, and a moment later, my father replied, sliding the papers across the polished surface. I could only assume the gesture served as some silent insult, as his expression darkened.
He did, however, pick up the sheets and began to read over the proposal.
“Removing the mines and ordnance will be an issue,” the man stated in accented English. “Outside of the offer for the excavated portions of Uruk, this offer is quite low.”
“Removing the mines and ordnance will be an issue, an exceptionally expensive issue. Once the land is confirmed to be my property, to be signed over as part of my daughter’s dowry, certification of safety and removal of all ordnance will be my problem rather than yours.
Unexploded ordnance will be dealt with accordingly.
As I wish to establish a museum and resort, making the land safe will be of vital importance. ”