"Lots of long bones," she repeated with a newly established proprietary delight. "Merdine was much more assertive. Well, he'd have to be as a sea captain, whereas a harper has to be more tactful and persuasive."
"He does?" Robinton mocked her.
"Well, you are both. I've heard you, Journeyman--"
He interrupted her. "Your parents will not object to you espousing a harper? I intend to get my Mastery, but it does mean we'll do a lot of travelling. Will they mind?"
"And a sea captain doesn't travel? A harper doesn't encounter the same sort of hazards--' She stopped there, her eyes darkening with the sorrow Robinton had hoped he had lifted for ever.
"I don't know about that," he said into the pause, speaking lightly and trying to restore the happy mood they had been enjoying.
"Sorry, Rob."
"No need to be ... love," he said, experimenting with using the word in her presence.
"That's what I especially love about you, Rob. Your perceptions and understanding. Merdine ... was not an understanding man.
Not the way you are. And I think – on balance – that's very important in creating a good harmony for a long life together."
They would have explored that topic much further except that they both heard voices along the hallway outside the workshop.
They had straightened themselves and their clothing, and Robinton pretended to tighten a string on the harp. The voices talked on, their
owners continued past the workshop. But that interlude was over.
"I'll carry it for you," Robinton said.
"Then we will both explain its significance to my sister," she said firmly. "Not that she'll need much explanation when we walk in with this beautiful instrument."
Nor did they. Juvana was delighted, saying this was the best birthing day gift her little sister could possibly have. There wasn't another harper in the family, so it was about time there was one.
"Melongel's been wondering when you would declare yourself, Robinton," she added, giving him a sly sideways glance.
"And what gave him the need to wonder?" Robinton asked. He had prided himself on keeping his feelings under control.
"Oh, I thought he should consider the matter," Juvana said airily,
"especially since my baby sister has been sighing over you for some time. He won't object."
Melongel didn't. He already knew of the Telgar Blood connection of Petiron, and the fact that Merelan was a MasterSinger of Pern-wide prestige made no bar to an espousal.
"But the summer's ahead of us, the busiest season for journeymen harpers," he said more severely, since he did not permit pleasure to interfere with duty. "Autumn Equinox would be a better time for espousal than Summer Solstice. We will, however, announce the pact tonight and spare Robinton competition for dances."
Melongel could not spare Robinton either the teasing or the envy of those who had also hoped to espouse Kasia. But the public announcement of their intention made their lives far more comfortable.
Rob had sent a formal announcement to his parents – at Juvana's suggestion.
"Mothers need to know such things, Robinton," she said, smiling with just a touch of maternal condescension. "You're old enough to choose your own partner, but even if your relations with your father are poor, you should include him."
Robinton stared at her, shocked. He'd never mentioned anything about his father.
"That's just it, Rob," Kasia put in gently, touching his arm and peering into his face. "You don't mention Petiron, ever. But you mention your mother at least forty times a day."
"I don't ... that's exaggeration," he said, but he relaxed and smiled at her teasing. "I don't want you to think that I don't admire Petiron's music ..."
"That's what I meant," Juvana said. "He's never your father.
Always Petiron." She paused, watching the shock on his face. "It gives a clue to those who have your good interests at heart. Not something a casual person would look for." She wrinkled her nose. "Then, too, I've met your father and I agree: he's a remarkable composer. It's your songs, however, that everyone sings."
Robinton didn't know what to say, since he had no idea that he had given himself away simply by not mentioning a subject.
"You've heard me go on and on about my father," Kasia said, now earnestly trying to ease the shock of their casual disclosure.
"Mind you, I can see why he'd be hard to emulate."
"Nonsense, I'd far rather have music I can hum or whistle than those intricate and – yes, I'll say it – tortured musical forms."
Robinton couldn't stifle a nervous chuckle at Juvana's remark.
"There, that's better," Kasia said. "If I ever meet him, I'll be oh so punctilious and formal. Now your mother... she's a dear and loving person."
Robinton gawked at her. "How do you figure that? Have you met her?"
"Not really, but I've heard her sing. And her face is so expressive that she must be loving. And if she brought you up the way you are now, she's a dear." Then she gave him a warm hug and a loving kiss before she relaxed against his arm. He covered her hand with his.
"Should I ask the MasterHarper's permission?" he asked.
"You're a journeyman," Juvana said, lifting one shoulder.
"You've the permission of your contract holder and have officially announced your intent. But I think it would do no harm to tell Master Gennell."
"I'd like to tell the whole world," Robinton said, beaming down at Kasia, still marvelling that she would love him. That was when the music poured into his head and he knew exactly how he could publish his happiness. Sonata to Sea-Green Eyes, he would call it, and he hung on to the lyrical line as he often did when there was no opportunity to write music down.
"As Kasia's sister and as your Lady Holder, I will expect you to come to me with any problems you might encounter as you start your lives together," Juvana said, coming to the real purpose of her interview with the pair. "I have already discussed this with Kasia, and she will protect herself, which is her duty, until such time as you are settled enough to contemplate children."
Robinton blushed. He and Kasia had not discussed the natural outcome of their love-making and he realized that he had been remiss in this regard.
Juvana went on. "I offer the suggestion that you should spend several years enjoying each other's company, consolidating your new relationship, especially since it is unnecessary for either of you to need children to help in your professions." She was quite matter-of-fact, and Robinton knew that she spoke common sense. "You're both young. You have time. I have told Kasia that I would gladly foster any child of yours should your work make it impossible to give that child the advantages of a permanent home."
Robinton managed to stammer out his astonishment at such a magnificent offer: an honour that he had never imagined being offered him. Usually it was the grandparents who offered fostering, or a very close friend. To have his child fostered at Tillek Hold would be a privilege.
"That's an incredible offer, Juvana," he said, getting his wits together. "I'd like to think I'd be a sufficiently good father that a child would not need more than his parents to reassure him, wherever we went."
Juvana regarded him solemnly for a moment. "Yes, you would want to be a good father. And I think you would be. I've watched you with the slow ones, and you're kind and patient, though some of their antics would be enough to drive me to sea in a leaky boat."
Kasia laughed. "Juvana gets seasick just looking at a rocking boat." "This is all' – he gestured with the hand Kasia was not holding to indicate being overwhelmed – "rather more than I thought espousing entailed."