Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) (81 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses)
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“I can keep us out of danger for the journey,” she said. “No one will see us pass by.”
 
 
He grinned. “That’s right. I keep forgetting. I’m going to marry a mystic girl.”
 
 
The word
marry
hung between them in a sudden silence, heavy and awkward. Ellynor didn’t answer, and she felt Justin tense beside her. She didn’t have the courage to look up and see his face blurred with confusion or creased with uncertainty. In the chaos of the last few days, he had not had time to think it through; he might only now be realizing what it meant to seriously plan to take a woman to wife.
 
 
He was bending down to peer into her face, and when that didn’t show him what he wanted to see, he put a finger under her chin and tipped her head up. His own face indeed showed uncertainty, but it was filtered through a layer of anxiety.
 
 
“Ellynor?” he said. “Or didn’t we settle that? Maybe I didn’t come right out and ask you. Maybe I need to work on my proposal. I assumed that when we arrived at your father’s house, we would be wed according to your laws. But maybe you’re not so sure that’s what you want to do.”
 
 
She curled her hand around his wrist and gazed up at him, searching his eyes. But he didn’t seem to be hiding regret or panic. His face was touched by fear, but it was a fear that she would reject him.
 
 
“I just want you to be sure,” she said quietly. “I don’t think you’re the sort of man who grew up dreaming of the day he would marry. This changes—so much about your life.”
 
 
“Well, you have to be sure, too,” he said. “And it’s pretty clear the changes won’t be any easier for you than for me. Maybe you don’t want to become—become—
bala-toso
or whatever.”
 
 
“Bahta-lo,”
she said, smiling.
 
 
“Maybe you don’t want to leave the Lirrens. And I can’t leave Ghosenhall—not now, not with a war coming. Maybe afterward I could come and live with your family, if that’s what you wanted. If they would have me. If
you
would—”
 
 
She silenced him with a kiss, and felt his arms close around her, powerful and reassuring. In truth, she couldn’t imagine how all the components of their lives would fit together, but those were discussions for another day. She knew the most important detail, the central point: Justin loved her. She would work her way forward from that.
 
 
Now she settled against him, her head on his shoulder, her hand once again caught in his. “So tell me how it works,” he said, speaking to the top of her head. “We arrive at your family’s place and all your brothers come rushing out with their swords upraised—”
 
 
She laughed. “Not quite. Though I’m sure most of the family will come running out to greet us. At first they will be terribly formal with you—they will prepare the best foods for you and offer you the finest wine, and they will make only the most polite conversation. When we arrive, I will be whisked off to the kitchens and interrogated because I have
so
much to tell! Not just about you, although that will be a story my sisters and cousins will want to hear in every detail, but about the convent, and the Lestra, and Rosurie.” She paused, feeling a wave of sadness so strong that it made her physically ill. “They won’t like the news about Rosurie,” she said in a softer voice. “And my mother will call in my father and my uncles, and they’ll hear the story again, and they won’t believe it at first, and I’ll have to tell it another time. And maybe they will decide they need to return to the convent and try to retrieve her, and maybe they’ll believe me when I say she does not want to come home. That she denounced me and turned her back on the Great Mother.”
 
 
After a small silence, Justin said, “And all this time I’m left alone out in the hallway with your brothers? Who don’t like me?”
 
 
She laughed again. “My brothers and my male cousins and a few of my uncles—yes, probably,” she said. “But they won’t actually
say
they don’t like you. They might start to challenge you in subtle ways. Offer you wine and see how well you hold your liquor—”
 
 
“Well enough, but not after the fourth or fifth glass.”
 
 
“And, you know, Torrin and Hayden will stand next to you in conversation and try to gauge if you’re taller than they are.”
 
 
He grinned. “And am I?”
 
 
“Yes.”
 
 
“Is that good or bad?”
 
 
“They respect strength, so it’s good. If they truly accept you as my husband, they will not engage you in a proper duel, but sometime before the visit is over,
someone
will invite you to a friendly fight.”
 
 
“And should I win that, if I can?”
 
 
“You should always win any fight with a Lirren man, if you can.”
 
 
“Senneth seems to think my chances are good.”
 
 
“If Senneth is right, and they have accepted you, then this will be considered our bridal visit. We will need to stay at least seven days, so that outlying members of the
sebahta
have time to travel in to offer us their gifts and blessings. There will be feasts every night—wait till you taste the salt bread—and you will meet more people than you will ever be able to remember. Sometime during those seven days, probably at a dinner, you should publicly offer me your bride gift and explain its significance. The following day—”
 
 
“What’s that?” he asked, suddenly alert. “This bride gift?”
 
 
“Oh—isn’t that a custom among the people of Gillengaria? It is something that belonged to your mother that she gave you when you left home, specifically for you to pass on to your wife when . . .” Ellynor’s voice trailed off.
 
 
Justin’s mother had been a whore. She’d died when he was ten. She hadn’t been handing him pretty baubles infused with sentimental memories.
 
 
“That doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. “However, before the visit is over—”
 
 
Justin straightened his shoulders and sat back against the headboard. She glanced up and saw him frowning. “It matters,” he said. “It’s part of your family’s tradition, or you wouldn’t have brought it up.”
 
 
“Well, it won’t be part of our wedding ceremony.”
 
 
His brows were still drawn in a fiercely serious expression. “Can I buy you something? A necklace or a ring—is it usually jewelry that’s handed over as a bride gift?”
 
 
“Jewelry, an item of clothing, a kitchen tool, a lace tablecloth—but, Justin, please forget it. I didn’t mean to mention it.”
 
 
“But can I buy it?”
 
 
She shook her head helplessly. “It’s considered bad luck to give your wife something new. Something—raw. A bride gift that came from your mother’s hands is an object that should be well worn and loved. It is supposed to ease your transition from one family into another— ‘Look, I am part of the
sebahta,
I have something that has been in my husband’s
sebahta
for twenty years.’ My father gave my mother a quilt that his great-aunt had sewn and bestowed upon his mother when he was born.” She took a deep breath. This wasn’t helping any, she knew, but he would only keep asking until she explained it all. “A bride gift is a way for the people who love you most to say they will love me as well. It signals that I have been accepted by your family.”
 
 
“But I don’t have a family.”
 
 
She came to her knees and put her hands on either side of his face, making him look at her, willing him to believe. “I know,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.”
 
 
Restlessly, he pulled away and stood up, then began pacing the cramped width of the room. “It
does
matter,” he threw over his shoulder. “If they do accept me, they are already making a huge sacrifice—they are already tossing out their traditions and contravening some of their own laws. At
some
point, I have to give them what they want for you. At
some
point, I have to show them that I can abide by their customs. I have to prove that I deserve you.”
 
 
More slowly, she climbed from the bed and stood there, apprehensive and miserable, watching him. “If they don’t think you deserve me, they won’t let you cross the threshold,” she said. “A small thing like a bride gift is not going to change how they feel about you.”
 
 
He wheeled around to face her, his expression stormy. “It’s not a small thing or you wouldn’t have brought it up,” he said.
 
 
“I brought it up because it is part of the tradition I know,” she said. “But you must already have realized that I am willing to walk away from so much that is familiar to me, so I can be with you.”
 
 
“I don’t want you to give up anything you don’t have to,” he whispered.
 
 
“All I want to not give up is you.”
 
 
In the ensuing and highly charged silence, the knock at the door sounded especially loud. Neither of them responded; they just continued to stare at each other, mute and unhappy. The door opened without an invitation, and Senneth stepped inside.
 
 
“Cammon said you were arguing,” she said calmly. “And here you seemed to be so violently in love.”
 
 
They almost fell on her, both of them raising their voices to explain.
 
 
“Senneth, tell her—”
 
 
“Senneth, please explain to him—”
 
 
“How can I make them break any more conventions?”
 
 
“Why can’t I make him understand?”
 
 
Senneth flung her hands up and they both fell silent, though Justin looked surly and Ellynor wanted to start screaming. “What is this about?” she said. “Justin, you first.”
 
 
“The bride gift,” he burst out. “It’s supposed to be from my family to her, but I don’t
have
a family, and she says it’s not important—”
 
 
“It’s
not
!”
 
 
“But I know it is,” he finished.
 
 
Senneth was nodding thoughtfully. “Yes. Ammet’s daughter was married while I lived with them, and for a whole month before the groom arrived, all anyone in the household could talk about was what he might bring her for a bride gift. It turned out to be his mother’s copper pitcher, which was much more beautiful than I can describe. Ammet was very pleased.”
 
 
“I don’t want a stupid pitcher,” Ellynor said, scowling.
 
 
“No, but you deserve something,” Justin shot back.
 
 
Senneth’s hands were at the back of her neck, and in a moment she had unfastened a chain and was handing it to Justin. “Take this,” she said.
 
 
Ellynor felt her heart lurch with hope, but Justin just stood there, shaking his head. “Your grandmother’s necklace? You can’t give me that!” he exclaimed.
 
 
“Oh, but something that goes back a generation is even more prized,” Ellynor said.
 
 
He gave her a wretched look. “You don’t understand. My mother died, but Senneth’s father kicked her out of the house. Disowned her for being a mystic. Her grandmother handed her that pendant as she was leaving, and it was the
only
thing anyone in her family gave her. Her grandmother was the only one who loved her.” He shook his head again. “I can’t take that. I won’t.”
 
 
“No,” Ellynor said with a sigh. “You can’t.”
 
 
But Senneth was smiling. She came near enough to take Justin’s fist in hers and teased at his closed fingers. “Justin,” she said. “My grandmother believed in symbols. She wanted me to know that she loved me, and that the Bright Mother loved me, and that wherever I went, I would not be entirely alone. I was friendless and afraid when I left my father’s house, and some days the only reason I did not fall into complete despair was because I had this necklace. Because I knew I had my grandmother’s affection.”

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