Another strange smile curled around his lips.
“I’ve already been approached, in fact, after the verdict was read, the probable consequences to my career-and the war effort in general, given whose son I am-were discussed. Consequences which I brought up, in fact, when I tendered my resignation on the spot. After the dismissal of the court, Sogbourne approached me, privately.”
He shook his head. “He begged me to enter the political arena, suggesting I’d be an asset to the Commandery, not because of who my father is, but because of my voluntary resignation. If Father will have me,” he glanced over to meet the duke’s gaze, which hadn’t left his son’s face since he’d entered the drawing room, “I’ll work as an assistant or a page until the next election cycle.”
“Gladly,” the duke rumbled. “And Sogbourne’s right. We’ll get you qualified in a proper Andaran district and you’ll win that election, make no mistake about that.”
“Why are you so certain?” Shaylar asked, puzzled, and the duke grinned.
“Because an officer who voluntarily shoulders the punishment and the responsibility for a serious act he didn’t commit is seen-rightly so-as the most honorable of men. The sacrifice of an army career under those circumstances is the greatest one a man can make, other than to lay down his life. Oh, yes, Jasak will win that election. By a landslide.”
Gadrial shook her head.
“That’s nuts!” she protested, and Jasak chuckled.
“That’s Andaran,” he corrected. Then the mirth faded from his eyes and he crossed the room in three swift strides. Went down on his knees. Took both her hands in his.
“Gadrial, I’m pleading with you to consider becoming my wife. I swear by all that I hold sacred that you’ll be free to live your life by whatever precepts, whatever mores and beliefs you choose. Your career is the second-most important thing in my life.”
Her cold hands began to tremble in his.
“If you’ll agree to tolerate these crazy Andaran rules I live by, I’ll agree to let our children choose which world they want to live in. Yours or mine.”
Tears were coursing down her cheeks.
“You crazy, mad, adorable Andaran,” she whispered. “You were listening, weren’t you? To my testimony?”
His face went red. “Guilty as charged, Madam. It’s an accused man’s right, to hear the testimony for or against him. He just doesn’t sit in the room, because his presence might prejudice or intimidate the witness.”
“That makes sense, at least,” she said with some asperity. Then she slipped one hand free of his grip and ruffled his thick hair. “Our children, Jas Olderhan, will live in our world. Rahil alone knows what it’ll look like, but it will be ours.”
In the next moment, Gadrial was in his arms, and she discovered that the kiss he’d bestowed on her in the slider coming into Portalis had been little more than a peck on the lips. The kiss he’d delivered the day she’d gone tottering off to her lab on campus had been a simple buss on the way out the door. What Jasak Olderhan’s lips wrought here and now was probably illegal in every single town and village in Andara. Hah! Just let them try tossing us in jail, she thought in a muddle somewhere in the middle of that life-altering kiss.
Then she couldn’t think at all.
And that was just fine with her.
Chapter Forty-Five
May 3
Andrin leaned against the ship’s rail, hair flying in the wind as she and Howan watched the glorious fireworks display overhead. The dark waters of the Ylani Straits were a mirror reflecting back the explosions of light and color. The sharp crack and rumbling boom, followed by the staccato crackle of secondary explosions, rolled across the black water like the voices of the very gods lifted in celebration. They’d stopped Arcana!
The Voice message announcing the recapture of Fort Ghartoun, Hell’s Gate, and the portal to Mahritha had reached Tajvana two days ago. All of Sharona was still awaiting confirmation that Fort Brithik had been retaken, as well, but no one in the entire multiverse seemed to doubt it had been done by now.
She hugged the joy of it to herself, just as she hugged all her good fortune from these past few days. She’d needed that good fortune, every drop of it. She’d faced so very much, these last months: terror, horror, anguish, numb grief, cold rage…so many emotions foreign to her life, she ought to have been exhausted.
But the fireworks sparkled in the night sky as brightly as Andrin’s happiness, which knew no bounds, tonight. She knew they still faced danger and pain, but for now, for these few moments, she let herself simply be happy. She felt almost giddy, like a child at Spring Coming. Sharona was safe, Chava Busar had failed to destroy her life in his quest for power, and she’d married a man whose love for her was so deep she knew already she would never taste the bottom of it.
Each day, each hour they spent together, Andrin realized she’d joined lives with a man as worthy of her respect and love as her father was. For all that he was a reserved and quiet man, he deliberately drew her sense of humor into the open, made her smile and laugh more than she ever had in her life. He sought her opinions and found them sound, agreeing with her a surprising percentage of the time. When they didn’t agree, he said so…and made his case in calm, measured tones, although she could sense the temper that sometimes boiled beneath the surface.
She glimpsed it, now and again, when some officious twit said or did something that pushed the limits of his patience. He’d come close to losing control of that temper at the last crossing of the swords, so to speak, with Prince Weeva. His Highness would smart for months to come under the sting of Howan Fai’s cold-voiced opinion, which had endeared him to her all the more. Andrin detested that particular son of Chava so deeply it was nearly pathological.
She put him deliberately out of her mind. She’d much rather think about her husband-his sense of humor, his respect for her opinions, the strength of his own convictions, his soul-shaking tenderness.…
She didn’t know if this was love or some other emotion, since she’d never felt this way before, but whatever it was, she wanted more of it. And she wanted an excuse to slip away to their cabin and share a little more of that delicious intimacy. She sighed. It had been dark for barely half an hour, and she was only too aware of the eyebrows that would rise if she suggested retiring to bed this early. She nearly giggled aloud, shocked by her own indecent thoughts.
There’d be time enough for that, later.
For now, she leaned against the rail, watched the fireworks, stroked Finena’s glossy white feathers with absent fingertips, and stole occasional glances at her husband. Their child was growing well. Not a hint of a belly showed yet, though Doctor Morlinhus warned her that even at her height, a bump was to be expected in the next couple of weeks. The dreams had faded as the child grew, but Howan Fai was slipping her away to safety, she hoped.
Let it be so, she prayed silently. To that prayer, she added, And please, let me hold onto this happiness, let me hold onto this wondrous man you’ve given me. Grant me this much, at least: a chance to spend my whole life with him, for him to spend his whole life with me. There’s so much we can do, together, to protect the people of our worlds. Grant us the time to do that work together.
Howan Fai turned to peer into her eyes, sensing a change in her mood. He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and lifted his chin slightly in inquiry.
She was afraid to say it, for fear that once uttered, some malevolent demon would hear the words and smash them to pieces. So she merely smiled and said, “It’s nothing.”