Of course, he would lead her here.

"I can't do this." Esme stood facing the gazebo, "I can't keep going through the motions, Althalos."

"You gave your word." He said it simply. "It must be of your own free will, Esme."

She bowed her head-as she often did when she submitted to his demands, even when she truly didn't want to. But this time she looked back at him with rage. "One day I will leave you, and this word of mine will not be used against me any more."

"I hope to encourage a change of heart, my dear." That was all he replied while he waited on her decision.

Much like when he found her tending the cart, she braced herself and strode forward into the gazebo, ignoring what he chose to do with himself. The bed was still there, and she laid in it in what would have been a provocative manner, if it wasn't for the hurt and anger that practically dripped from every pore. Althalos shook his head as he sat down next to her, then deliberately pulled her willful form under his arm. "Watch."

The enigmatic command was accompanied by a change of scenery: bamboo faded away to bare rocks and a horizon filled with the expanse of the sea. That caught Esme's attention. "Where are we, All?"

"We're in Thalos. The gazebo-my tether-truly lies on the southern coast of the sea. I own half of Thalos outright, as the Fourthborn's only heir. Knowing my parents, I'm likely their last child, and the girls cannot inherit, so I may own all of Thalos one day. My name was a sort of prediction or curse, I won't know which-not for a long time to come."

"Why are we here?" At least the peculiarity of the situation had turned her more neutral-he had feared she would remain too angry to even be receptive to his explanation. But then she had always been susceptible to a change in scenery, that curiosity she never pursued unless he placed it in front of her ate at her resolve, and the view truly delivered novelty for the city-born waif beside him.

He helped her up and walked her out of their lovenest, then turned her away from the sea to face a small castle in it's own right. "I had the first stone laid the day I met you. Back then, it was more of a promise to myself. Aelif history is full of men who loved a Bondmaid, then recovered from their loss in the arms of their brides-and they filled their homes to the brim with happy families. One thing the bondmaids consistently pick out is the most virile men who go on to father the bulk of the Aelif in their nation. With lifetimes reaching to at least a thousand years-often far longer-their children number in the hundreds. Even the least prolific, like my grandfather, still have dozens of children. He's on his twentieth babe with grandmother, which will be born some time in the next few months-and they're but a few centuries old. So I wanted a home large enough to keep me and mine in. I knew that much, since I first held your hand."

"What does this have to do with me, All? You were still insisting that I'd run off and leave you, for quite a long time." She was looking at him with confusion, at least. The anger and hurt couldn't compete.

Althalos relaxed, grateful for that much of a shift in her thoughts, but it would be a long day if she objected every step of the way. "You promised."

"I promised not to question your sexual urges, Althalos, not stay silent while you toy with our future."

He gave her a lopsided smirk as he waggled his ridiculous eyebrows at her. "True, but it's a lifetime of sex I'm asking you not to question, my dear."

That pulled a reluctant, small smile out of her. His outrageousness occasionally got to her. "By all means, then."

He used the Frostways to speed things along, not wanting the natural walkways of the place to interrupt what he had to say. "This is the library. Most all the books in here are my private collection that has been taking up my parent's attic until this room was completed."

She started to look around, seeing as masculine a room as she could withstand: rich leathers and dark wood, floor to ceiling windows and bookshelves, but he didn't just wait for her to look around. He dragged her off to a specific bookcase-not as tall as everything else was, but maybe as high as his waist, with slim volumes crammed in the shelves. "What is this?"

"A wall of children's tales. Early on, when you were trying to explain to me about how awkward you felt in my world, we argued about whether we lived in such. A useless argument, looking back, but that seemed to be the one thing we did well. Interacting with you-for good or ill-gave me ideas about what I expected of a home that could be for whomever I married in the end. It was reasonable to think that children would need their tales, and I imagined them joining me here in what would be my most used day room. Hopefully, they would believe in children's tales better than we did."

He opened the Frostways to lead them to another bright room. The chairs were blue, moss green, and brown. "Do you recognize the leathers?"

Like she spent time thinking about chair coverings "No. Should I?"

"When you chose your light armor you passed up that blue, saying it wouldn't hold up to daily stains. Then you chose that moss green and a lighter brown, all the while lamenting that they did not carry a more serviceable color. I figured the blend of these three would make for a pretty sunroom for the future wife."

Esme shook her head. "It was pretty-is still pretty in this room, but really, blue leather?"

"If it had been a dress, you would have bought the cloth outright, woman."

"So, you started incorporating the 'good ideas' you found in me, thinking they would please any future bride."

"At first, yes." He opened up the next path and stepped through.

She thought she heard his voice echo through the distortion with a further answer. "But things change."

50. Talk

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