'A few? He knew all too well what that meant. The whole Lady-damned city is talking about it.

'She must hate me, he said in an aghast whisper. Not Kristabel; not her angry with me. I can't stand that.

'No. Um, look, I'd better go over to Haxpen and explain—

'No! Edeard sent his farsight surging into the Culverit ziggurat. He found her easily enough, in her grandiose bedroom, curled up on the bed, her mind a low glimmer of pure misery. Little Mirnatha was in there too, not saying anything, just miserable on behalf of her beloved elder sister. In the corridors outside, servants mooched about, sullen and trepidatious. Julan sat in one of the day lounges, trying to radiate a composed persona, but he couldn't help the distress he felt inside from leaking through, the concern for his daughter.

'Oh Lady, Edeard groaned in disbelief. 'I am such an idiot.

'You didn't know, Kanseen repeated.

He shook his head, banishing the small hall from his mind. 'Kristabel? his directed longtalk asked gently.

On the bed, she tensed then curled up tighter. Her mind's strongest shield tightened round her thoughts.

'Kristabel, please, I'm so sorry.

It was no use, she was completely closed to him.

'Fuck! He smashed his fist down on the bench, unconsciously putting his telekinetic strength behind it. The ancient wood splintered with an almighty crack. Both halves of the bench hit the ground. A small sea of paperwork skidded down on to the floor. He stood up. 'I'm going to see her.

'I'm not sure that's a good—

'My mistake, he was almost shouting now. 'I will put this right. I have to.

'Edeard.

The gentleness of her tone caught him by surprise. She put her arms round him, and kissed his brow. 'The Lady's luck be with you, Waterwalker. You deserve her.

'Thanks, he said, shamefaced. 'Er, any other customs I should know about? Before I… you know.

'Only that it's a custom, not a law. Go get her.

* * * * *

He perceived the two ge-eagles as soon as he stormed out of the station. They watched him carefully as he made his way over Arrival Canal into Silvarum. Someone was very interested in his movements. And he recognized at least one of the ge-eagles from the aviary at the ziggurat. His farsight skipped on ahead. Homelt was standing outside the main gates, marshalling several family guards. Armed guards — in the daytime, no less. The gate itself was closed and locked; as were all the other entrances into the mansion. It was Lorin who was organizing everyone, striding around the main courtyard issuing orders.

'You little shit, Edeard muttered under his breath. Lorin was making no effort to conceal his eagerness at sealing up the vast ziggurat mansion.

The constable guards on the bridge between Silvarum and Haxpen gave Edeard a respectful salute as he hurried over. He returned it casually. His longtalk whispered into several ge-monkeys in the Culverit mansion, stirring long-dormant amorous thoughts that were wickedly misdirected. Five of them began to scamper across the courtyard behind the main gate, their affection for Lorin unbound.

Citizens strolling along the streets outside the ziggurat heard peculiar squeaks of desire mingling with Lorin's outraged and downright fearful yells. Agitated, frightened thoughts were broadcast wildly as clothes got torn. Servants and guards came hurrying over, adding to the physical and emotional commotion. It took several minutes for the ge-monkeys to be calmed and led away. There was so much noise, that even Homelt peered in to watch in bemusement as Lorin's unwelcome new suitors were coaxed back to their nests. He looked round the courtyard thoughtfully, then closed the big main gate again, trying to suppress a smile.

When Lorin recovered his dignity, and a servant handed him a new cloak to cover his ripped sleeves, he cast his farsight out beyond the walls again — to no avail. The family's ge-eagles were now circling aimlessly above Birmingham Pool.

'Where is the Waterwalker? he demanded. No one could tell him.

* * * * *

It wasn't quite the grand gesture entrance Edeard had hoped for. Even though he'd slipped through the ground-level walls with no problem, he still had ten flights of those ever-damned Makkathran-style stairs to climb. And he was in a hurry, fearful that every second of delay would act against him.

When he finally passed through the wall into Kristabel's bedroom he was nearly breathless from all the exertion. Kristabel was still on the bed, sitting at one end, shoulders slumped, head in her hands, with her thick mane of hair hanging down over her knees. The broad glass doors to the hortus were open; Mirnatha was outside, bending over the vine-clad wall to look down on the western districts. Edeard abandoned his concealment and closed the glass doors.

Mirnatha spun round, her little mouth open in shock. Her fright vanished when she saw it was Edeard who'd materialized in the room, replaced with immediate indignation. Her hands jabbed into her sides as she glared at him in affront.

'It's all right, Kristabel told her with a croaky voice and unsteady longtalk. 'Walk round the hortus, for me, please.

Mirnatha gave Edeard a final glare, then stomped off.

Edeard went down on his knees in front of Kristabel, and laced his fingers together as if in prayer. 'I am so sorry, he said. 'Please, marry me. I didn't know before.

Kristabel combed some of her hair away from her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, while by contrast her cheeks had paled as if she was ill. 'Marry you?

'Please?

Confusion clouded her gaze. 'You didn't know?

'This week and a day thing. I had no idea, I swear. Please believe me, I would never try to deceive you in any way, let alone this. I love you, Kristabel.

'You didn't know? Her voice had risen in hope.

'No. By all the Lady holds precious, I did not know.

Her tears began to flow again, but now her mouth had lifted in a smile. 'You didn't know? It was nearly a wail.

Edeard bowed his head in suffering. 'Gache fungi, he pleaded.

Kristabel started to laugh, it swiftly turned to sobbing. She swatted his head, then somehow they were clutching desperately at each other.

'I thought… She wept. 'I thought you'd… I don't know what I thought. I didn't understand. After that week — everything we did, everything we shared — I didn't know why.

'Shush, he urged her, and held her tighter. 'Shush. It was a stupid mistake, and all my fault. And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise. Now I'm going to go to your father right this second, and ask his permission. I know I've only got a day. That's… he paused. Gulped. 'If you'll have me.

'No, she said.

'What? he demanded, stricken.

'Yes, she said quickly. 'Sorry, yes of course I want to marry you. Look at the state I'm in at the thought of not. But no, I don't want you to go to Father.

'Why?

'Because this is guilt talking.

'No, it's not. I want to marry you. I can't believe you actually want me, but if you think I'm going to be stupid again then I—

'Listen, she said, and grasped his hands, forcing them to be still. 'Look at me.

Edeard did as he was told. Even with tears all over her face she was bewitchingly beautiful.

'When I asked you to spend the week with me, I knew what I was asking, she said. 'I gave you what I thought was a choice, the traditional a week and the day, or just become lovers that night there and then, with no obligation. You went for the week, which in itself tells me a lot about you, that you'd respect me rather than settle for a quick tumble. But you didn't know what that was supposed to be, what it meant. You weren't thinking of marriage. And that applies now as much as it did then. You haven't thought this through. Believe me I have, and I know what I want. But Edeard, you've known for about… how long?


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