Devon spoke gently. "You're different than I expected."
"Different?" He blinked. "How?"
"Quieter." She considered him. "More polished."
Although he said, "Thank you," her words didn't feel like a compliment. He followed the manners his parents had taught him. That he lived a rural, simple life didn't make him crude.
Devon leaned back on her hand. "What do you like to do, Vyrl, when you aren't in school?"
"Come out here." He motioned at a nearby field of nodding stalks, each weighed down with orbs as large as a fist. "We're going to harvest the bagger-bubbles soon." He smiled, warming to the thought. "I'll work with Althor and Del, razing the stalks."
"Cutting plants, you mean?" She seemed bemused.
Cutting plants seemed a prosaic way to describe the joy of working with the land and the riches it produced. He wasn't sure, though, if Devon would understand his stumbling attempts to explain feelings he couldn't fully describe even to himself, so he only said, "Yes. Cutting plants.". "Ah."
They sat for a while. When the silence became strained, Vyrl asked, "Are you on vacation now?"
"I suppose you could call it that. I've five days leave, measured in Lyshriol time." She sat forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "The dates for the Metropoli summit have been moved up. That's why I had to reschedule this trip. I have to give a presentation there about the ground-based defense systems for Metropoli."
"Oh." Vyrl had no real idea what she meant. "It sounds important."
Devon grimaced. "Committee meetings always sound important. The more elevated the description, the less we get done." She shook her head. "I see no point in stockpiling more weapons on Metropoli. The planet is already as well guarded as we can make it. But its economy will benefit from the industry. Metropoli has a big population, ten billion, so it holds many votes within the Assembly." Wryly, she added, "Hence my presentation."
He tried to look interested. "I hope it works out."
"I'm sure it will." She didn't sound convinced. He was picking up traces of her thoughts now. She didn't expect the summit to achieve anything useful. He wondered why they bothered with meetings if they didn't think it would help. ”
After another silence, Devon cleared her throat. She wouldn't look at him, just kept staring across the plains. "The Assembly sent me many files about you."
Vyrl stiffened. What was the Assembly doing with files about him? "Where did they get them?"
She glanced at him. "They have dossiers on every member of your family. Surely you knew that."
His face was growing hot. "No."
"Oh." Now she looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound intrusive."
"You didn't." That wasn't true, but it wasn't her fault he hadn't known the Assembly kept a dossier on him. Although it made sense, it had simply never occurred to him.
"I've also spoken at length to your parents." She stared hard at the lyrine herd again, avoiding his gaze.
Vyrl wondered what she was trying to say. "They didn't tell me much about the negotiations."
She finally turned to him. "They are terribly proud of you, you know."
"They are?" As far as Vyrl could tell, his truancy and procrastination annoyed them no end.
"Yes. Very much." Now she looked self-conscious. "They've made it clear that if I don't treat you well, I will answer to them."
Vyrl winced. That sounded like his parents. "I'm sorry. They say things like that sometimes."
To his surprise, Devon gave an affectionate laugh. "I imagine they do." Her smile faded. "They also made assurances, discreetly of course."
Vyrl waited for her to clarify that mystifying statement. When she didn't, he said, "What do you mean?"
Devon cleared her throat. "There are, ah, certain expectations for the consort of Majda." She squinted at him, her cheeks tinged with red now. "Parents may have idealized views of their children that aren't, well, uh… realistic."
Vyrl had no idea what she meant, and he didn't think he wanted to know. But he couldn't restrain his curiosity. "What kind of views?"
"They might assume a certain… innocence…" Her blush deepened as her words trailed off.
"Oh." Now Vyrl understood. He knew exactly what she meant. He spoke stiffly. "My parents know me well." There. Now that he had humiliated himself with his lack of sexual experience, maybe she would leave it alone.
Mercifully, she just went back to watching the lyrine. Apparently his father had been right about at least one reason why Devon hadn't offered for Del-Kurj. Vyrl suspected Del's brash lack of discretion was the problem more than his actual experience; if the noble Houses had truly required male virginity on the wedding night, they probably would have died out by now for lack of mates.
He focused on Devon — and one of her memories jumped into his mind, a scene so vivid that it escaped her barriers. A tall man of about thirty-five, with dark hair and eyes, stood with his hands spread out from his sides, laughing as he pretended confusion about something, as if he were teasing the person watching him. Vyrl felt Devon's rush of love, followed by a sense of loss, the kind that came from separation, a loneliness so deep it made him ache.
Saints almighty. What an insensitive clod his parents had birthed. Here he was bemoaning his own miserable fate, and it had never occurred to him that this arrangement might be ruining her life, too. Why would she want to court a half-grown stranger when she had a lover her own age whom she would probably be far happier to make her consort, if politics, heredity, and duty hadn't interfered?
Devon turned to him with a strained smile. When she touched his cheek, a tingle went through Vyrl, but it only made him think of Lily. Before he could stop himself, he whispered, "It's not fair."
"I know." She didn't even need to ask what he meant. "But this is how it works for those like you and me." Then she slid her hand behind his head and drew him forward.
Vyrl hadn't expected her to kiss him. When her lips touched his, it jolted him, but from surprise rather than desire. The kiss was just, well… lips pressing his. No heart. No passion. Nothing.
After a moment she drew back and gave him a rueful smile. "Perhaps it takes the sparks a while, heh?"
He wanted to crawl under the rocks. "My apologies if I disappointed you."
"Ah, Vyrl, no, I didn't mean that." She sounded as if she wanted to hide under a few boulders herself. "I'm sorry. I'm bungling this terribly."
"No. Don't say that." He struggled to smile. "It's all right."
So they sat on their rock, gazing at the plains, trying somehow, someway, to find a common ground.
3
Gusts of wind tried to knock Vyrl off the castle wall. In the light of the two moons, which were both in the sky tonight, he climbed down from his window, hanging on to cracks in the stone. Despite the wind, sweat dribbled down his neck. He had on too many clothes, not only those he had worn earlier today when he met Devon but also a sweater and thicker boots. He had rolled up his cloak and tied it onto his pack, which he wore on his back. Altogether it made him hot, heavy, and clumsy. Even worse, it would make it harder to run if anyone saw him.