emerging from the door where her own quarters lay. She practically stormed into the room actually, glaring fiercely and waving a sheet of paper clutched in two little fists. Several of her fingers were stained with ink.
"Father, you have got to put a stop to—"
She halted abruptly, staring at Trae. Then, a moment later, her jaw dropped.
Trae rose to his feet and gave Demansk a cocked eyebrow. " 'Father'? Is there something I don't know? A second wife you never told us about?" He gave Jirri a careful inspection. "She doesn't look like one of your offspring. Too gorgeous, for starters."
Demansk coughed. "Well. Actually, Jirri's more or less practicing, I guess you could say. I'm about to become her father. I don't believe I've had a chance to mention yet that you're getting married. The day after tomorrow, as it happens. The ceremony's already been prepared."
As if by cue, the sound of heavy chimes ringing somewhere in the city below wafted through the airy windows of the hareem. Through those same windows, Demansk could see the Western Ocean. The waters of the archipelago seemed especially vibrant today.
"Ah, good. I see the temples have gotten the announcement. I had to wait, of course, until you'd actually arrived."
It would be difficult to say which of the two youngsters in the room had the widest eyes, at that moment. Both pairs looked like saucers. Trae was goggling at his father; Jirri was goggling at Trae.
"You didn't warn me!" they both protested simultaneously.
"I'm not ready to get married!" added Trae.
Jirri's protest was less cosmic: "I've got ink on my hands!"
Demansk bestowed a look upon his son which was stern enough to have satisfied the All-Father himself. "There will be no discussion, Trae, and no argument. None. In this, if nothing else, I will stand on ancient custom. I am your father, and you will do as I say. I need this marriage to solidify everything."
He glanced at Jirri, finding it hard not to laugh at her indignation over smudged fingers. "The
"Father, you have got to put a stop to—"
She halted abruptly, staring at Trae. Then, a moment later, her jaw dropped.
Trae rose to his feet and gave Demansk a cocked eyebrow. " 'Father'? Is there something I don't know? A second wife you never told us about?" He gave Jirri a careful inspection. "She doesn't look like one of your offspring. Too gorgeous, for starters."
Demansk coughed. "Well. Actually, Jirri's more or less practicing, I guess you could say. I'm about to become her father. I don't believe I've had a chance to mention yet that you're getting married. The day after tomorrow, as it happens. The ceremony's already been prepared."
As if by cue, the sound of heavy chimes ringing somewhere in the city below wafted through the airy windows of the hareem. Through those same windows, Demansk could see the Western Ocean. The waters of the archipelago seemed especially vibrant today.
"Ah, good. I see the temples have gotten the announcement. I had to wait, of course, until you'd actually arrived."
It would be difficult to say which of the two youngsters in the room had the widest eyes, at that moment. Both pairs looked like saucers. Trae was goggling at his father; Jirri was goggling at Trae.
"You didn't warn me!" they both protested simultaneously.
"I'm not ready to get married!" added Trae.
Jirri's protest was less cosmic: "I've got ink on my hands!"
Demansk bestowed a look upon his son which was stern enough to have satisfied the All-Father himself. "There will be no discussion, Trae, and no argument. None. In this, if nothing else, I will stand on ancient custom. I am your father, and you will do as I say. I need this marriage to solidify everything."
He glanced at Jirri, finding it hard not to laugh at her indignation over smudged fingers. "The