Page 30 of Gyft

“I do.”

Her voice is wistful.

“Me too.” There’s a pause and I imagine we’re both wondering what our seedlings might look like.

“Do you think they’ll have hair or freelig?” she asks.

“Not sure. But I hope it’ll be red like yours.”

She gives a soft laugh. “Like minewas.”

Then it’s her turn to sing the next count in the song, and she does it with a sweet ringing voice that makes me go hard.

When we finally pull up to the gates of the city, I’m greeted by city officials who wave the wagon through. Funny how, just a season ago, I was traveling by hoverpods, dressed in full uniform. Now, I look like a simple farmer, my uniform mangled, my bride wearing my brichet. We’re definitely worse for wear.

But we’re happy. So much more so than when we first met. We’re holding hands in a public display of affection, the twin souls latched onto Olivia’s other hand like a happy foursome. Heads turn to watch us; people are curious about my alien bride. This time, I’m proud to be with her; proud that the hood of her brichet isn’t over her head.

There are a lot of stares—not shocking. I scowl at everyone, making sure they don’t say anything stupid to hurt Bride’s feelings. HavingMonesse M’irshlak as our hostess works in our favor, since she’s obviously called some of the local females bragging about how my bride was so brave to save her twin souls. I hear many greetings about how I have a bride deserving of my bravery.

As if I deserve hers.

The more that word gets around, the more I notice others look interested.

“H’ronak,” calls a deep, male voice. Next to us, the twin souls squeal.

“Livva, this is our professor. Minstrel B’lacer! Hi, Minstrel! Hi!”

“Brisa. Kyno. How are my favorite twin souls?” The professor’s voice is deep, he’s definitely not as aged as professors were when I went to school—he looks like a male in the prime of his life.

He studies my bride with open curiosity, even as the twin souls respond.

Then he turns to Olivia.

“Rakel B’lacer.” He holds out his hand in greeting and Bride takes it first, her lacking fingers clasped loosely in the professor’s.

“Welcome to our planet,” he says.

I scowl. Why haven’t I ever thought of saying that?

“Thank you! It’s such a beautiful place.”

“I’m sure yours is just as lovely.”

“It is, but very different than yours. Yours looks like old world Earth, but that’s probably just this location. We have a ton of continents that are all different. Some very modern, some older.”

“The cities here are more modern, though the castle itself resides on the outskirts of the city. But I’m sure you already know that. You live there, right?”

The professor turns to me, and salutes. A sign of respect... that came from not wanting to touch one of the King’s Guard that has been through the deadlands. “Rakel.” He nods, introducing himself

In a small snub, I give him my full name and title. “Honorable Mention Gyft T’shil of the Third District, High Commander of the Kashian fleet.”

The only one who looks impressed is Bride.

The professor nods as if he knows exactly who I am. Good, let Bride see her husband is well known. Well respected.

“Minstrel B’lacer, do you think me and Brisa can be in the school play now? With our different freelig color?” As Kyno asks, he reaches up with his hand to smooth the ropes that are beginning to spike with his emotion.

Rakel’s eyes linger on their hair, then take on the color of mine and Bride’s. I clasp Olivia’s hand in mine. As she mentioned earlier, we do look like a family unit. I want this male to see that.

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