“Honestly? Well, if he wasn't already spoken for, I think I could pass myself off as being royalty from here, even though we don't have that. Close enough really, our ranks are about the same, actually I'm probably equal to the girl there by their system of thinking. Second in line. They wouldn't require anything of us then, but I'd have to move there. He's to run the whole land one day. Not for a time though, the rulers of Noram tend to step down when the heir reaches forty or so, as a tradition, and he's only eighteen, I think.”
The mother clicked, a unique thing that had taken Mutta half a day to teach him to do properly, It required causing suction at the back of the mouth and then freeing the tongue from the roof. In this case it basically meant something was funny, like a chuckle, Tor thought. That had been a little hard for him to pick up, since there was no direct analog in Noram.
“Crazy! I suppose we should make an offer then, if the large boy isn't married yet. They'll need someone sensible like you to help him if that's all they have to lead them. A man… hard to understand these tall people.”
“Mother! He's spoken for already. I don't know, but that may be unbreakable there… not like here where anyone could come in with a better offer up to the day of signing.” She didn't seem put off by the idea, she just didn't know what the rules were.
Tor kept a smile off his face and answered in Afrak, the language a lot easier now that he'd heard others speaking it so often. It felt like he should have known it all along almost, which just pointed out how stupid he was, taking that long to learn it.
“Well, It's not impossible, so an offer might be a good plan. After all, if you point out that Mutta is that high ranking here, which I don't think anyone knew before, it will improve the deal, and you're certainly pretty enough. His current betrothed is already married, but to a man that doesn't exist. Technically Alphonse and Ursala can't be married until that man dies, which should be any time now honestly. If you act fast though there’s a time window for you, a few months. If you're serious, write up a letter and I'll take it to his mother.” Tor held up his hand.
“And yes, the part about her being married to an imaginary man is real. There was a problem and they needed a fictional marriage to fix it. It's no longer a problem though, so I wouldn't wait too long.” That had been Ursala's pregnancy, but she'd lost the child due to poison.
Austran poison.
They chattered back and forth excitedly for a bit, the tone alternately playful and serious. Well. It wasn't just idle chatter then? Good enough. He loved Ursala, but Mutta was family. If he could help her out he had to.
It was a rule.
It meant having to find a husband for the Countess too, probably, but that should be doable. She was wonderful after all. Maybe his younger brother Todd? He was only a year younger than Tor was, so seventeen now, if he hadn't found a girl for himself, that would work. He was good looking and pretty bright even. True, the boy was more interested in baking than most of the others, so he might actually want to skip the whole “being royal” thing, but who was to say he couldn't' do both? He'd have to send a letter to his mom and ask her what that situation was then. Blinking Tor realized the Todd was even a Countier, so well within the three social steps that royals required for their marriages.
When they left from the ship, Mutta sat in the comfortable blue cushioned seat behind Tor making eyes at Rolph so obviously that the Prince finally asked what it was about. He smiled when he asked and his tone was polite, playful, as if he half expected a joke, but he was curious, that much was clear. Tor shrugged and Mutta smiled up at the giant red haired Prince, his color having finally returned to normal.
She didn't say anything though, looking down instead, so Tor did.
“It turns out that Ambassador Mutta is roughly a Princess here, about the same as Karina is. Possibly a little more than that. Her mom is basically the heir, the structure is different, but that's about the size of things. So she and her mother are planning to send a go between. Me actually, to plead for your hand. It's a good match and I think she's serious. She's already agreed to move there full time and everything. Worth entertaining the offer, I'd say. You already know each other even, and you have to admit, her exotic looks alone would make it an intriguing idea. Plus she's really smart and already has training in leadership too.” If a foreign kind that would take some rounding out. In Noram she'd have to learn to accept that men were equals, which might be hard for her, but if anyone from Afrak could do it, Tor would place his gold on her.
One of the great things about Rolph, Tor thought, was how open and kind he really was. He reached out and took her hand gently and smiled.
“Please do! The offer is kind and welcome. I'll speak to my mother for it, if you want?”
They chatted about agreements and plans for the rest of the trip and if the Prince wasn't enthused by the idea Tor couldn't tell at all. Being daring he reached out and felt the attraction blossoming between them. It was incredible to sense like that, a warm feeling that made him like both of them better too. He broke off before he started making them both feel that way about him by accident. That would be awkward all around.
Very awkward.
The trip took ten hours, Wensa and her crew moving to the first installation route without pausing, setting the whole thing up before the original site was reached at all. Tor and a few others would have to start digging the return river as fast as possible and probably end up doing it in the dark. It was stupidly dangerous, but they needed water.
The second he landed Tor jumped out and grabbed the box in the back with the earth moving equipment. The small stones with their leather thongs attached to the back of either hand he hit the flight control sigil and started digging. The right hand had to point out where the earth was and start the stream, the left pointed up slightly and out, making a huge dust cloud. It was the only way he could fly and not crash while making the earth moving equipment work too. The river of dirt flying through the air was impressive, but Tor kept feeling like he was about to die. The whole thing was just so unstable doing it this way.
It hit him that the flying carriages could be used for it with some modification, so the operator wouldn't have to fly themselves at the same time, but that would have to come the next day, the river was flowing towards them already, he knew, Wensa had waved to him in signal as she and her group had flown past, about half a mile away on his right. It was a constant balancing act and the amount of dust made it hard to see the ground at times, but this first line only had to go to an existing river half way to the coast that should carry the flow well enough. It was summer here, Mutta had said, so the water flow was lower than normal. That meant there shouldn't be any severe flooding. Tor hoped so anyway.
The work was fast, messy, and accompanied the whole time by a terrifying sound of thunder that made Tor want to wet himself at first, and feel like he couldn't control the forces involved at all. It was like fear itself lived in the deep, loud rumble. He got used to it though. Most things in life were like that, weren't they? Do it long enough and you started to think of something as normal.
Hours later he found himself flying back in the dark, not knowing if he could find the camp at all. Being a flat sandy desert for the most part, a fine dust rather than real sand, the few lights put out guided him in perfectly, and he descended so slowly that he barely tapped the hard ground under his feet when he landed. Being focused really helped. So did the fact that he knew for certain there were no trees to crash into and, while it would be embarrassing, if he landed on one of the Not-houses that had been set up, it wouldn't hurt anything either. Other than his pride.