“Go to my room, Harilek, and fetch me that carved wooden box that stands upon my table.”
I went and brought the box, heavily carved in some scented wood, Paulos’s crest in the panel in the centre, and put it down by him. He opened it with a little key, and took out something wrapped in embroidered silk which he unfolded. As he did so I heard Aryenis, standing close—very close now—to me, give a little gasp of pleasure. It was a plain thin bangle of gold, hardly thicker than thin wire, but one of the kind which engaged girls among the Sakae always wear. But for the most part they are made of silver, since gold is very rare.
“That, Harilek,” he said, passing it to me, “I have treasured for more years than I like to think. I had it made when I was younger than you are for a lady I hoped and prayed would wear it. But there was some one else she preferred, and so it has been locked up all these years. I should like Aryenis to wear it now, if you will take it from me as a gift.”
“Gladly, Paulos. I would far rather that than one I might buy myself.”
So, with Paulos to witness, I slipped the bangle on to Aryenis’s arm, stumbling through the old formal Sakae words of promise, which time-honoured custom connects with a betrothal.
Paulos left us early, which was kind of him, after telling Aryenis to come and say good-night to him later.
“Satisfied now, my own?” said my lady, cuddling close as we sat by the fire in the half-dark after Paulos had gone. “Sakaeland for the rest of your life—no more things that fly and no more wonderful toys?”
“More than satisfied, sweetheart, since it means you for the rest of my life, which is all I ask for. You’ve shown me that everything else is toys, and between us we’re going to find the things ‘that really matter.’”
“I’m so glad that you understand, even though you are a man. But, Harilek”—shyly—“how long have you been in love with me? Really in love, I mean?”
“Ever since that night outside the gate, I think, heart’s delight.”