left them there, two youngsters staring at each other. Given the nature of the times, he thought that dirty hands were an appropriate way for a husband and wife to get introduced.
* * *
Thicelt was waiting for him in his own quarters. Not in the private chamber where Demansk slept and where he'd spent hours studying Gellert's missive, but in the great outer salon which Demansk used for meetings with his close advisers.
"They sound good, no?" asked Sharlz, gesturing with his head to the windows. "I think they've got every chime in the city ringing."
Demansk nodded. "Yes. And now comes the hardest part. Waiting."
Thicelt studied him. Then, glanced at the door to Demansk's private chamber. Sharlz had never read Gellert's treatise, but he knew about it.
"It all depends on him now, I suppose."
"Not quite." Demansk lowered himself onto a couch and stretched. He was actually looking forward to the next few days, however much his son and about-to-be daughter-in-law might be full of trepidation. A traditional celebration, with the gaiety and feasting, would be a pure pleasure. And, in truth, he really could afford to ease up for a bit.
"Not quite," he repeated. "If Gellert fails, I think I could still manage the thing. But it'd be the difference between ruling a realm and ruling a ruin."
He stared out the window. His view was not of the harbor, but of the mountains behind Chalice. Almost the exact opposite direction from the one where his and the world's fate would be largely decided in the next few weeks. But Demansk wasn't even
* * *
Thicelt was waiting for him in his own quarters. Not in the private chamber where Demansk slept and where he'd spent hours studying Gellert's missive, but in the great outer salon which Demansk used for meetings with his close advisers.
"They sound good, no?" asked Sharlz, gesturing with his head to the windows. "I think they've got every chime in the city ringing."
Demansk nodded. "Yes. And now comes the hardest part. Waiting."
Thicelt studied him. Then, glanced at the door to Demansk's private chamber. Sharlz had never read Gellert's treatise, but he knew about it.
"It all depends on him now, I suppose."
"Not quite." Demansk lowered himself onto a couch and stretched. He was actually looking forward to the next few days, however much his son and about-to-be daughter-in-law might be full of trepidation. A traditional celebration, with the gaiety and feasting, would be a pure pleasure. And, in truth, he really could afford to ease up for a bit.
"Not quite," he repeated. "If Gellert fails, I think I could still manage the thing. But it'd be the difference between ruling a realm and ruling a ruin."
He stared out the window. His view was not of the harbor, but of the mountains behind Chalice. Almost the exact opposite direction from the one where his and the world's fate would be largely decided in the next few weeks. But Demansk wasn't even