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“You and I have already spoken on the matter, Lord Kalla."

Markus nodded without bowing his head, paws clasped behind his back. As usual he stared a point roughly above and to the side of Lord Thorn's ear. “Yes, sir."

“But for my daughter's sake: your mother says you are…" The older wolf cleared his throat as he slid his fingers beneath the letter, painted claws glittering a sharp contrast to the yellow-white paper. “'…hotheaded, irresponsible, childish…' et cetera, et cetera…"

There was that so-familiar flare of indignity again, simmering up from inside – and this time the foxwolf pressed his lips together, pulled in a breath, and pushed it back down. The way Kole bested me on the road that one night I went out here as the Ghost; how I treated Doren when I went for the baths; even how I approached our engagement, and beside him Rhea's tail brushed against his own, with such disregard, with neither hope nor interest in how things might turn out…

“Yes, sir." He blinked, glanced down, saw that Volo waited for more. “All of these were… are correct, and now I am aware of them and am actively trying to improve himself."

Still holding the paper, Volo looked from him, to his daughter, and then back again. He nodded slowly. “I have begun to see this. However…" When he returned it to the desk his fingers spread over the familiar scrawl of Azura's handwriting. “I have spoken with you. I have spoken with Rhea. Why did you not give your opposition to this arrangement upon the first announcement? I would have been just as understanding then as I am now."

“Because… I…"

Markus caught himself, swallowed again, ran his thumbpad over the sleek, glossy surface of his own painted claws – then jumped a little bit as a second paw came to join his own. He turned his head; Rhea smiled just enough for him to see, and gave his fingers a little squeeze.

“I knew I didn't want to, but I didn't have a reason for why. It would have been like… like a child raging against the rules of the house, caring only that the rules restrict him, instead of considering the reasons why those rules are in place."

Volo considered this a moment, cool eyes flitting as he watched his thoughts dance. He tented his paws before his muzzle; his nostrils flared in a slow inhalation; he sat back in his chair, unfolded his paws, drummed his fingers along the desk.

“I see." He nodded. “So, then. Rhea, beautiful. My question to you… you were really coming around. I thought you two were getting along great…"

~ ~ ~

“Well, yes, we were. We are. We do. She's… wonderful." Markus felt his heart pick up and skip a beat, fluttering warmly in his chest, spreading outward like a spring blossom. He felt a squeeze to his paw, and glanced beside himself to see Lura struggling to stifle a grin, unabashed joy glittering in the otter's mismatched eyes. Markus squeezed back. “Under different circumstances, I think… I could easily share my life with her. But our places, both of us, are elsewhere."

Across the desk his mother sat upright, paws folded, ears perked. She had opened the window behind her shoulder prior to his arrival; now the early afternoon sunlight slanted down across the side of her muzzle, highlighting the stark divide between rich, fiery orange and deep charcoal black. Markus smirked: “But your mother?" Kole had said; “I shudder to oppose her even in a verbal discussion…"

Finally the vixen tilted her head, untwined her paws, and tapped the desk with a manicured claw. “Where, then?"

“She wishes to be a healer. It is her passion, her calling. I have seen her at work in the Chapel there, and Lura alongside her, and her other partners, and… it's good work they're doing, and…"

And just before I left, I remembered my promise. I asked Doren to bring my things to the carriage, and I ran down into the town, and followed the market road to the end, and climbed the hill, and fetched a basket of almonds…

“And she values the demand, the active work, being able to physically touch and see the difference she makes on those around her. She certainly has the head for the political game, but has no desire to pursue it. But healing…" His tail swayed and swished, stirring the sweet summer air tinted with the minty frost of bayshoot. “I think I have never truly known passion," outside of personal indulgence, what it's like to sleep with Rhea on one side and Lura on my other, to feel them both against me, to find myself wrapped snug within their scents, to feel both of their paws on me, their mouths, their breath, “until I watched her work. It exhausts her, but the way it makes her feel, it's…"

He trailed off, his mother still watching him. She tilted her head a little bit, glanced to Lura, and looked back to Markus. Her claw tapped the desk again.

“And then you?"

“I…" His paw fell from Lura's. Markus scratched at a spot along his shoulder; he had bumped his finger while packing the previous evening, and seeing the way the lacquer chipped off had felt almost like an actual wound. “Truthfully, I do not know. I wish I had a better answer. But ruling is not right for me, and now I can say with confidence instead of indignance the truth of this. I… could not care for maintaining a household, much less a town."

The Countess's nostrils flared. Markus braced himself; she closed her eyes, gathered her thoughts, and then returned her sharp gaze to him.

“You would value your own ideals and comfort over that of your people?"

“Yes. I would. That is why-"

“You would be given a council with advisors. I have Aurelia, but so too do I have many years of experience."

“I understand, Mother. I am arguing this now not for my own sake, but for the people's." Markus took a half-step forward, tail trying to curl around one of his legs. “Sitting as Count is not who I am, and nor is it who I should be, without the interest and passion that drives you in this, and that drives Rhea in her healing. That is why I cannot in good conscience accept the title of Count of Leyo, or Oryon, or – wherever it is you had planned."

“Oryon would indeed go to you." The chair scraped across the floor as Azura stood up, that shaft of sunlight now spreading across her shoulders like a gossamer cloak. “I had planned to leave Leyo for your child with Rhea, but then your brother expressed his own interest in the responsibility, and so adjusted my plans. Normally such a thing would be unacceptable, what with him being secondborn, and…"

Lura cleared his throat. “A bastard."

Sharp eyes flashed his way. “Yes. But if there is one thing our family is known for…" The vixen shrugged. She rested a paw on her desk as she rounded the corner. “I suppose it would be defying social norms." She paused there, mouth quirked, ears splayed, eyes dancing through her thoughts.

Then, with force enough to knock down a horse at ten paces – Markus still braced himself – she returned her gaze to her son: “I accept your concession."

Markus sighed with relief. Lura's paw squeezed his, and he squeezed back, and wanted to turn and swipe the otter up and pepper him with kisses and nuzzles and those little nibbling licks that Rhea liked to do, the kind that caught the fur of his neck and sent irresistible shivers vibrating through his shoulders, and – he could still smell her on Lura, around his cheek where she nuzzled and the underside of his chin, and then across his lips as well, and-

“And Rhea's thoughts in the matter, Markus?"

-he forced all of that from his mind, blinked, and made himself pay attention to his mother. He told her how he had been there for her discussion with Lord Thorn, how he had made sure to step back and hold his tongue when it was not his prerogative to speak, how he wanted her to be the one to guide the discussion… how he had told both wolves that he would go out of his way to support her as much as he could.

Azura nodded throughout, one paw coming up to her chin. She remained quiet for a moment after Markus finished. Then she tilted her head again, parted her lips, thought another moment.

“And your…" Warm eyes slid across to Lura. “'Prince'?"

Lura had actually been the one to make most of the arrangements for the trip back. The way he had held himself in discussion with Volo, the servants, the porters, how he had requested the written receipts for payment and transportation, how he had gone out of his way to refer to everyone by their name. He had taken Markus about the manor grounds to personally say farewell to all of the others, shaking paws, smiling, laughing; a visit to the chapel down in the city, quiet conversation with Maro still there in his spot, then a sweet hug and a shared kiss on the cheek for Sorrel first, and Osa next.

And then back to the manor where Rhea had finished dressing and then waited by the carriage for them, bittersweet warmth in her eyes. “I'll see you again," Markus had breathed, Rhea's muzzle tilted for Lura's little kisses to her neck. “And that's a promise." “Write to me when you arrive," she had murmured back, paw reaching out for the foxwolf's; with the other she had nudged Lura's head aside, held him in place, and leaned in to share another, deeper kiss with him, then turned to do the same with Markus. “Both of you." Then another kiss, and another, and upon climbing into the carriage and feeling the rumble of the road beneath them, Lura had shifted to rest his weight on Markus's shoulder, closed his eyes, sighed softly, and said-

“Your dragon mask. I left it in the room. Shall I send someone to fetch it?"

Markus head leaned his head on the otter's, draped an arm around him, and settled in. “No," he had replied; “let it stay. It is no longer mine."

“He is no prince." Markus resisted the urge to reach up and dab at the corner of his eye. “He is Lura. Lord Lura Oryon, in fact. Unless I'm mistaken?"

Azura smirked. “You are correct."

Now Lura shifted to entwine his arm with Markus's, his head resting against the foxwolf's shoulder. He sighed. “If only there was something to be done about the signet ring, Your Excellency…"

“Ah! Yes. How could I forget?" Azura straightened up and reached into her collar, then lifted out the glimmering ring on its silver chain. “I neglected to mention in my letter, Markus. Lura left this with me when I sent him to retrieve you… not only was it attuned to Spirit magic during its casting, but that casting was done via skilled Fire usage. Simply put, it would be dangerous to melt it back down, and as such I have decided to keep it as part of the House Oryon treasury." She twirled it about a finger. “I've been considering it… a dowry."

The foxwolf's heart leapt. He tilted his head one way, frowned, tilted it the other, then looked from his mother, to Lura, then back to his mother, and only then recognized the look shared between them. Lura pressed a paw to his mouth to quiet a giggle.

Markus's mouth felt dry. “You mean you-"

“-would gladly sponsor this marriage," she went on, “with a respective engagement ball, of course. Many of my peers have written me regarding the charismatic Lord Strade."

Markus stared at Lura. The otter grinned up at him. “I wasn't sure if you'd want to," he murmured, standing up on his tiptoes, “but thought it'd be worth it to-"

“Of course I do. I would have nothing else."

“Well. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I can think of another appreciable option, but-"

The Countess cleared her throat. She waited for both of them to return their attention to her.

“Markus." Though she stood nearly a head and a half shorter than her son, still he felt as though he had to step back a great distance to avoid her looking down at him. “Your time in Leyo has admirably matured you. I wrote as such in my letter to Volo and-"

“He said you called me irresponsible and childish and-"

“-requested that he make no mention of it. And then you arrived, and I saw how you spoke with the carriage drivers, and Lord Oryon here himself, and Aurelia when she greeted you? And reading the letter the Viscount sent ahead of your departure… well, I almost thought that you had stayed, and that Volo had sent back some other foxwolf in your place."

Still breathless, Markus struggled to keep up. “Is that – a compliment?"

His mother smirked again. She strode past him and Lura – his fiancé.

“It is what you make of it."

~ ~ ~

The moons turned, and turned once more. Summer changed to autumn, autumn to winter, winter back to spring, and then once again-

Attn: Lord Markus Kalla ef Solm Maldeth, and his fiancé, Lord Lura Oryon

From: Sister Rhea Thorn

My beloved, both of you,

When we met I was but an initiate with the Church. Now I have been accepted as a full apprentice, with my skill and dexterity having both advanced to the point where, should I wish, I may begin guiding others in the healing arts. Naturally I shall still continue my own training and education, as there is, and always will be, more to learn.

This means that we three shall of course be in attendance for your marriage, as we were for your engagement last year. Sorrel and Osa are eager to see you again, and you both know I would rather give up everything else I have than miss this for you. I have also been informed the Arro wineries will have their first vintage of stormberry wine prepared; I have enclosed a second letter for Her Excellency the Countess to double-check that arrangements are in order.

Markus: my father has received the receipt for Doren's purchase of contract. Please expect his arrival likely within the day. He speaks well of you still, if a bit shyly. I have sent a package of my soap with him, the gardenia and almond, and expect to smell it on you when next I see you. Lura: Maro still asks about you. You must make another trip up here soon, if only so he will return to complaining about his wife for a few days.

I miss both of you greatly. The halls fill with your presence when you visit, and then feel empty once more upon your absence. This is why I have spent so much more time in my studies and training. It is a bittersweet feeling, yet ever shall I be happy to know that you two love each other as much as I do you, and that you share that love with one another while I am too far away to do so myself.

But, as always, I will be charging interest on that. I have made sure to remind you in every letter, and I have no intent to cease: you will always have a home and a bed here with me, in Leyo and wherever I may go in my future.

Two of the greatest treasures I have ever been given are you.

Then, in a different hand:

Love and well wishes from Osa and Sorrel. Missing you both. Markus – find Sorrel's favored preparation for tartare included. Rhea says it is the recipe the Thorn chefs use. Lura – we begin our attendance at the Maldeth Academy of Magic in Solm this autumn. Perhaps come visit.

And once more in the original:

Yours in faith, friendship, and life as long as we breathe and then beyond, for deeply and truly do I love both of you,

Rhea

~