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Dad
is beaming. The money is pouring in this
year. Not only for Jitz but for the whole men’s party for the... well I guess he’s the
Imperator now, technically since it’s after his third threshold birthday. I’m not holding my breath until after the Ten
Tens. I mean I get about all this voting
shen.
I saw more ways of governing in my travels than I have fingers and toes.
I wave the old man off to go out and have a good yell at some self proclaimed and more often than not drunken pundit screaming from the speaker’s step.
Minis’s crowd came pouring through fairly early and they spent good chains too. The Gourmand made enough amuse-the-mouth spoons that they bought another case just to be sure there were enough to sell if the pot-boy fell behind washing.
My dazzling wife is there behind the wine-safe counter, on her chair, with my little Ilienas tethered to the chairleg so he doesn’t get stepped on. She shouldn't really chase after him, I think, in her condition though she assures me the exercises she still does every morning make her strong.
She can still kick my delicate pink ass if I really piss her off, even in her condition so I suppose she's good to chase after a toddler. My mother would have five kinds of fit if she ever saw Helfig bent into a naked knot in the privacy of our bedroom. She looks fine in her silks, pregnant with our second. You’d think Dad was going to burst with pride... as if the kid were his instead of his second grandchild.
Jan is asking me if Helfig’s family would be willing to put him up for a while. I told him that with those wing things, he might have a chance to actually see her country before his next birthday, instead of slogging over half the earthsphere. I should send him. If he learns enough of her language we might send him. He and the old man could stand to get away from each other, though Dad is a lot mellowed since he and I last had words.
I raise the tray of full glasses over my head to let Riji zip past me on his skates, hop the stairs down into the Gourmand without spilling a drop on his own tray, and I head outside to serve the terrace. It might be that we should fix up the roofs of our places for more space. It could be a garden, Helfig says. With hanging plants and shaded spaces. I’ll have to throw the idea at Ma. Dad listens to her now, way more than he used to.
The whole place is full of costumed partiers some of the Imperator’s party came back. “Ailadas! Your wife is holding court on the edge of the terrace and her cat is keeping everyone in his sights.” The scholar is heading inside and I come in with him.
“Ahem, excellent, Ienas. I shall order the mustard greens platter for us, then!”
“How’s our most honoured young man doing then?"
“He’s as drunk as he should be, and full fed. They’ve taken him on until it’s time to dump him in the fountain at his young bride’s feet, as backwards as everything is, ahem. My word... your wife... should she be out in her condition? Ahem?”
I wave the old man off to go out and have a good yell at some self proclaimed and more often than not drunken pundit screaming from the speaker’s step.
Minis’s crowd came pouring through fairly early and they spent good chains too. The Gourmand made enough amuse-the-mouth spoons that they bought another case just to be sure there were enough to sell if the pot-boy fell behind washing.
My dazzling wife is there behind the wine-safe counter, on her chair, with my little Ilienas tethered to the chairleg so he doesn’t get stepped on. She shouldn't really chase after him, I think, in her condition though she assures me the exercises she still does every morning make her strong.
She can still kick my delicate pink ass if I really piss her off, even in her condition so I suppose she's good to chase after a toddler. My mother would have five kinds of fit if she ever saw Helfig bent into a naked knot in the privacy of our bedroom. She looks fine in her silks, pregnant with our second. You’d think Dad was going to burst with pride... as if the kid were his instead of his second grandchild.
Jan is asking me if Helfig’s family would be willing to put him up for a while. I told him that with those wing things, he might have a chance to actually see her country before his next birthday, instead of slogging over half the earthsphere. I should send him. If he learns enough of her language we might send him. He and the old man could stand to get away from each other, though Dad is a lot mellowed since he and I last had words.
I raise the tray of full glasses over my head to let Riji zip past me on his skates, hop the stairs down into the Gourmand without spilling a drop on his own tray, and I head outside to serve the terrace. It might be that we should fix up the roofs of our places for more space. It could be a garden, Helfig says. With hanging plants and shaded spaces. I’ll have to throw the idea at Ma. Dad listens to her now, way more than he used to.
The whole place is full of costumed partiers some of the Imperator’s party came back. “Ailadas! Your wife is holding court on the edge of the terrace and her cat is keeping everyone in his sights.” The scholar is heading inside and I come in with him.
“Ahem, excellent, Ienas. I shall order the mustard greens platter for us, then!”
“How’s our most honoured young man doing then?"
“He’s as drunk as he should be, and full fed. They’ve taken him on until it’s time to dump him in the fountain at his young bride’s feet, as backwards as everything is, ahem. My word... your wife... should she be out in her condition? Ahem?”
“Of course, Ser. We can use every pair of hands around Jitzmitthra... and the soon-to-be Imperator's wedding. Nice to hear about the young man. I’ve heard scandalous rumours about his Yeoli tendencies.”
“Ahem. Thank you for the wine young Ienas. Ahem. I am certainly not going to pass along any kind of scurrilous stories about my most honourable patron. He and Gannara are as good friends as the most honourable Serina Kyriala and the Serina Farasha. Ahem.”
“Of course, most honourable tutor. No gossip here. No politics.”
“Ienas! Discussing politics inside?” Dad’s meaty hand smacks into my back.
“Nope, just talking – and I’d like to see you toss me in the trough without help if I were!”
“You’re letting business go idle you young pup!”
“Everyone's table is covered and happy, old man. Keep smacking me around and I’ll show you what I can do with my meat skewers!”
“Feh. You don’t have to prove anything, my oh-so-tough son. Just keep serving. Good Jitz, to you Ser Koren. I can see that most discretely hidden smile, Ser. Your Sera is asking for you.”
“Ahem, of course, of course. Later, gentlemen!”
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