“Yes, isn’t it?” Orgoru turned to look. “One of the compensations for the stresses of the job. It’s excellent for relaxation at the end of a long day—and for helping think through a problem.” He turned back to her. “Would you like to walk in it?”
“I’d love to.” She set down her cup. “Jules?” Orgoru asked.
The former king waved away the invitation. “I’ve had enough walking for one day, thank you. You two take your time—I’ll find plenty of company in your biscuits and tea.”
“As you wish.” Orgoru rose and held out his hand. “My lady, will you walk?”
Gilda came to take his arm, giggling. “Those courtly phrases sound so strange now!”
“But they come so naturally,” Orgoru said, as they went out the French doors into the garden.
They strolled down the pathway, Gilda saying, “It really is lovely.”
“Not as lovely a sight as my first glimpse of Voyagend, that first night,” Orgoru sighed. “That was magical indeed.”
“Fantastic, one might almost say.” Gilda smiled.
Orgoru laughed. “Yes, a fantasy indeed!” He turned to look into her eyes. “And so were you—luscious and lovely, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.”
“You were so tall,” she said, “and lean, and handsome.”
“No! Was I really?” Orgoru laughed.
“Indeed you were—gauche, but so very handsome!”
“Whereas now,” Orgoru said ruefully, “I am graceful and at least somewhat cultured, but plain and lumpen!”
“Certainly not lumpen,” Gilda said sharply, and squeezed his biceps. “Dirk’s physical training has given you a great deal of hard muscle.”
He smiled at her. “It gave you almost as voluptuous a figure as you had in my delusion.” He was amazed to feel a flicker of the old passion.
“In my delusion, you filled me with desire,” Gilda leaned closer to him. “Seeing you as a magistrate kindles it anew.” The flicker blew into a blaze. “In me also,” he said, and leaned closer himself. Their lips touched, very tentatively at first, brushing one another enough to tickle, to raise shivers. Then the kiss deepened and lasted a long time indeed.
When they parted, he embraced her, amazed to find himself trembling, delighted to feel her trembling, too. “Come, sit!” He stepped away and gestured her to a bench. She sat—but he knelt and said, “Marry me, Gilda! Please marry me!”
She stared, even though it was what she had hoped for, had burned for. “But … but I am plain and gangling!” she protested.
“You will always be beautiful to me, for I’ve seen you through the eyes of the Prince of Paradime. You still have all the charm, grace, and wit of the Countess Gilda—and I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.”
“Oh, Orgoru!” She leaned forward, clasping both his hands. “But will it last?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. When he saw that she still hesitated, he said, “Come, my love! You know that I have to marry somebody soon, to stave off suspicion. Will you leave me to the clutches of some illiterate, clumsy village maid?”
“No, never!” She smiled fondly. “Far better that it be someone you trust.”
“And love,” he breathed, then stretched up to kiss her again. When they parted, he caught his breath and said, “Still, if you have any doubts, I promise not to make physical advances.”
“Oh, do you indeed!” Gilda cried. “Am I so ugly after all that you can’t bear to touch me, then?”
“You know the falseness of that from my kiss,” Orgoru protested. “Be assured that I do want to touch you, and very badly, too.”
“I certainly hope you will not do it badly!” Gilda exclaimed. Orgoru spread his hands, laughing. “Come, now! You will be angered if I don’t, and angered if I do!”
“Not if you do it well,” she returned, and leaned down with a lazy smile. “If you think you can, and really want to, prove it!” He did. She wasn’t angry.
When they parted, Orgoru moaned, “Marry me, sweet lady, or forever after know yourself to be cruel! Will you marry me, sweeting?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
This time, their kiss lasted and lasted, until Jules finally came to the window, alarmed that they had been so long silent—but what he saw made him smile, and eased his fears for them immensely.
Miles was hard at work in the palace office—it had been the sitting room of his suite, but the records had overflowed, and he had been forced to move—when a voice called, “Hail the conquering hero!”
Looking up, he saw Jules coming through the door and looking very proud of himself. He grinned and leaped up, coming around his desk. “Hail, hero! What have you done?”
“Escorted Gilda to see Orgoru, and I assure you, he was very glad to see us, and very hungry for news.”
“But he was well?”
“Well? He was thriving! Now he’s even better.”
“News from home did that much good, eh?” Miles asked, grinning.
“News from home—and Gilda. Ask me where she is, Miles.” Miles lost his smile. “Where is she?”
“She stayed with Orgoru! They started talking about old times, and fell in love all over again! They mean to be married in a month!” Jules frowned. “Why the face of calamity? Don’t you understand, boy? They’re engaged!”
“Oh, I understand well enough!” It was the strangest mix of emotions Miles had ever felt—elation that Orgoru was no longer his rival, but real, deep fear at what effect the news would have on Ciletha. “Whatever you do, don’t tell her!”
“Her? Who? Gilda? I think she knows.”
“No—Ciletha!”
“Don’t tell Ciletha? Whyever not?”
“Yes—why not tell Ciletha?” The lady herself came through the doorway, slender and light as though blown on the wind. “This lamebrain seems to think I shouldn’t tell you Orgoru and Gilda are engaged.” Jules turned to her, frowning—it was very deflating to have his wonderful news treated as a tragedy. Worse, Ciletha didn’t treat it as much of anything. “Are they really?” she asked with a polite little smile. “How wonderful for them!” Then she went to Miles’s desk and laid some papers on it. “The reports from Fourthmark, Miles. Dirk said you’d want them.”
Jules scowled. “No one seems to care much about romance anymore. If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired and hot from my trip. I’m going to my suite. At least the tub will appreciate me!”
“Thank you very much for the news, Jules,” Miles said hastily. “Believe me, you don’t know how important it is!”
“I do. I’m glad you have some hint of it yourself.” The former king went out, not much mollified.
Miles turned to Ciletha anxiously.
“I’m all right, Miles,” she insisted. “Anyone who knew those two knew this would happen some day.”
“But … but it doesn’t … grieve you?”
“Grieve me? No.” She looked up at him, exasperated. “How blind can you be? I fell out of love with Orgoru two years ago!”
It was the first time she had admitted she’d been in love with him.
“Then—you don’t really care?”
“Care? I’m glad for my old friend. I hope they’ll be happy.” Then, suddenly, her eyes brimmed over.
Miles reached her in one step and swept her into his embrace. She wept into his chest, gasping. “I don’t know why … I’m crying… I don’t care … about him … anymore…” Then she raised a tear-stained face to him. “I suppose I’m mourning the past, what little good there was in it.”
He gazed down into her face gravely for a moment, then quite deliberately kissed her.
It started as a short, light kiss, but it deepened and lasted amazingly. When he finally lifted his head and drew breath, astounded and stunned, Ciletha gave a little, happy sigh and laid her head on his chest again. “I thought you’d never do that!”