Luther's Pride Part 09

“Is anything the matter?” Lucas asked as Luther returned his attention to the party.

“No, thank you. I was verifying that we’re all here before we begin our dinner.” Luther responded.

Lucas’ smile was unpleasant. “Is dinner to be ready soon then?”

“Yes.” Luther answered politely. “But we have some time.”

Lucas’ smile widened. “Wonderful. Captain Petros was just explaining his daughter’s interesting theory on spousal approval. What was it you said, Captain? Challenge first, marriage later?”

Captain Petros shook his head as if to deny Lucas’ claim, but enough of the guests had heard him, and he couldn’t deny the statement outright. “I only said that my daughter has, for years now, refused to marry any suitor we have found for her. She wants someone stronger than herself, able to prove themselves in a challenge against her.”

“That is true.” Helena spoke up for herself, approaching the gathering beneath the painting. “I refuse to enter a weak union, and any spousal partner of mine must be willing to prove they can handle me.”

A slight chuckle rippled through the group, but Luther gave her an evaluating gaze.

“A formal challenge?” Luther asked.

The room went silent.

Helena sipped her drink. “No. Informal combat only. To submission, not to death.”

Luther considered her answer as the others watched him. He saw a flicker of fear in Petros’ eyes and realized Petros must have witnessed his father fight more than once. The fey were known to be fast and strong. As half-fey, there was always a question as to whether Luther possessed his father's physical abilities, and no one in the room knew what his Arcana was. Through his confidence and masquerade, they all assumed that he was sitting on some secret and devastating arcanum.

“A combat then, and not some other challenge? You want to prove your spouses’ might above their intelligence, spirit, and warmth?” Luther asked.

“I only offer the challenge after determining their other qualities.” Helena explained.

“So, no time for a quick tussle before dinner?” Luther asked.

Helena’s lips quirked into an easy smile. “Do you intend to propose so soon? We’ve only met minutes ago.”

“Oh, come now.” Lucas scoffed. “We all know why we’re here. This is a meat market for our local lord to choose potential spouses for union before someone comes and takes it all away.”

“Tries." Luther corrected him. "Tries to take it from me. As is the law.” He said.

“As is the law.” Lucas nodded. “The time on your bereavement grace ends in what… three days?”

“Two.” Luther replied.

“Ha.” Lucas scoffed. “Well, I'm not quite as desperate as you, and you young ladies would be better off waiting and courting me or Banan and his partners after they take the shire.”

Petros looked incredulous, ready to grab his blade at the insult, but Luther stopped him with a gesture.

“Lady Helena, would you honor me with an informal combat? Perhaps I could put some fears to rest.” Luther suggested.

Helena looked surprised. “You don’t even know what my Arcana is, do you?”

“I do not.” Luther admitted.

Helena continued to gaze at him critically, but in the end, she nodded. “Very well.”

“Helena.” Her father, Lionel, protested.

“I promise not to kill him.” Helena said.

“Very well, I’ll see if the servants can arrange it. If you’ll excuse me.” Luther said and stepped away to leave the party, gossiping about what they might soon see.

He had to search out Wulfric, but found him in the dining room, adjusting the place settings.

“Wulfric, is there a space where Helena and I might engage in a little informal combat?” Luther asked.

Wulfric froze. “I don’t know what you young people believe constitutes foreplay, but I’d recommend waiting until after dinner, if you please, Sir.”

“Very funny.” Luther said. “Seriously, Wulfric, we need a space. Perhaps a spot in the gardens?”

Wulfric eyed him and sighed. “There is a combat ring in the gardens. Your father frequently used it for training. But it’s not prepared. We were not anticipating anyone challenging you so soon.”

“A sparring match, that is all. I’m sure it will do nicely. Would you have some of the servants give it a quick once-over? I’m sure the spectators will appreciate a good place to sit.” Luther said.

“Sir?” Wulfric asked. “I assume you have some kind of plan?”

“Not really, no.” Luther shook his head. “My plan is to try and impress a beautiful woman and hope she doesn’t kill me. If I can force her to submit, she’ll be more willing to marry me.”

Wulfric gave him a look.

“I just heard it.” Luther raised his hand in pre-emptive acknowledgment. “Just… have the servants prepare the ring?”

Wulfric rolled his eyes, but Luther was already gone. “Yes, sir.”

Luther returned to find two guests waiting for him in the hallway. Eira and Rhosyn moved simultaneously, almost eerily turning their eyes to him.

“You asked for Helena’s hand first?” Eira asked.

“You should have asked for ours.” Rhosyn replied.

“I may still do so if we prove compatible.” Luther admitted. “I apologize. I have not yet had the opportunity to get to know you or your parents beyond our brief introduction.”

“We know.” The girls said at the same time.

“Papa says we’re one soul in two bodies.” Eira said. “He said it’s an old belief about twins, like the moons.”

Luther nodded. The two moons was an old story, a myth, of one goddess whose silver coin was split in two, each side waxing as the other waned. When you were a child it was as good a reason for the two moons and their opposite phases as any.

“Do you believe that?” Rhosyn asked.

“That you’re one person in two bodies?” Luther asked.

The twins nodded.

Luther considered the question. He wanted to say no initially, but something about the way they waited for him to answer made that seem reflexive and disingenuous. He had to ponder whether it mattered if they believed they were one soul instead of two. Then again, the entire reason for unions was souls joining, becoming one, arcane power pooling into a single, shared repository. Strength added to strength.

“I believe in the power of unity.” Luther answered. “So whether you’re one soul or two is irrelevant. You’re better together. Many voices are better than one, right?”

The young women glanced at each other and looked at Luther piercingly.

“Which of us do you want to marry?” Eira asked.

“Oh.” Luther sounded surprised. “I…” He looked behind them, but no one exited the parlor to rescue him. He glanced behind him, but the servants must have taken another exit from the dining hall. He returned his gaze to the girls. “Both?”

He wasn’t sure if it was the correct answer. Sororate marriage wasn’t commonplace, but it wasn’t illegal as far as he knew. He’d have to check with Criella.

The girls smiled, and Luther relaxed, realizing he’d answered correctly.

“Good.” They said. “We don’t want to be separated.”

“It’s a little surprising when you speak simultaneously like that.” Luther scoffed. “But I’m glad you preferred my answer.”

“We’ve always spoken like this.” They said. “It’s how we are.”

“Helena likes you.” Eira said. “She won’t kill you.”

“But you need to get your act together. If you don’t have a plan, make one. Make this up as you go along, and you’ll end up dead.” Rhosyn said.

“What is your Arcana, exactly?” Luther asked. “Your specialty?”

“That’s for us to know.” They said.

Luther laughed. “Cryptic.”

“What is yours?” Rhosyn asked. “No one knows.”

“Well that’s–”

“For you to know.” Eira completed his sentence. “Keep your secrets.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn it is charm. You have an enchanting way about you for a demihuman.” Rhosyn said.

Luther narrowed his eyes a fraction, but only for a moment. The term covered many species, including himself, Asmodeans, and others. Any human-ish race that could trace its origin to a combination of magic, planar entities, and humanity counted. The tone in which one said the word determined whether it was a slur, and Rhosyn had been borderline.

“Best of luck against Helena.” Eira sounded sincere when she said it.

“You might need it. Your charm can only protect you for so long.” Rhosyn smiled.

“Thank you, Ladies.” Luther gave a slight bow. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe it’s my turn in the sparring arena.”

“We’ll come to watch.” They said. “And wish you luck. We've never seen anyone defeat Helena before.”