Lisril led him on and up, bringing him to her parent’s doors. She smoothed down his clothes, examining him before knocking.
They waited, and after a moment, the door opened, revealing her mother’s austere, weathered face. “Mama!”
The older woman opened the door fully. “Lisril,” she said. “You’ve brought your man home, finally.”
She turned to Alex and offered a gracious bow.
“Please, forgive the lateness of our introduction; I would have fled my duties and hastened to you the moment I learned of my Daughter’s engagement had it been an option.”
“No,” he said. “It’s my fault, really; I went and stole your daughter and didn’t even think about how I’d escape to meet her relations.”
“We shall have to find our way to mutual forgiveness then,” her mother chuckled. “But where have my manners gone? Please, come in. Wilin, find a chair for our guest.”
Her mother’s chambers bustled with activity, full of wives and daughters, two sons, and her father, of course, was sitting by the fire sewing something or other.
“Lisril,” he said, standing and spreading his arms to her. “Come say hello to your father.”
She hugged him. “Hello, Papa.”
“Let me have a look at you,” he said, patting her back.
He stepped back, rubbing her shoulders and looking her up and down. “Have you been eating enough? You look as though you’ve lost weight.”
“I eat like a queen——better, even; it’s my physical conditioning that’s changed; I’ve rather become enamored with Dyrantoro fitness coaches,” Lisril said, taking her father by the shoulders and giving a fond squeeze.
Her father looked unconvinced but nodded along. “As you say, dear, now, introduce me to this man of yours. I’ve been looking forward to meeting my grandchildren’s father.”
“Yes, Papa,” she said, returning to stand behind Alex, laying her hands on his shoulders.
The family gathered around, dragging in chairs or cushions or simply sitting on the ground.
“Everyone,” she said, “this is Alex, my husband.”
The gathered women crowded forward a bit to get a better look. If he wasn’t the first Dyrantoro they’d seen, then he was the first they were likely to have seen close up, and the women examined him with great interest as they exchanged greetings.
Then, a voice at the back of the crowd, one of the younger girls rose up over the crowd.
“Why are his ears so weird?”
“Hess!” came the mortified reply of the girl’s mother.
Lisril fought the laugh that rose in her throat.
“Alex’s ears,” she spoke slowly for fear of losing hold of her mirth. “Are just as the Lady intends them. He is Dyrantoro.”
“Is that why his nose is so big?” Hess asked, and her mother seized her by the ear, twisting and dragging the girl away.
“You come with me, young lady.”
“Ow! Ow! What did I do?”
Lisril took a deep breath. She couldn’t laugh; if she broke, they would descend upon her like animals. “We are blessed to have found each other.”
Her mother nodded, seemingly immune to the children’s antics. “I see you don’t mention your wives in your letters.”
She glanced at Alex, who, to his credit, if he was uncomfortable with the subject, didn’t show it. “Serra is courting him.”
The older woman pursed her lips. “Five years, and that’s all you’ve to show? Well, the archivist is, at least, of good breeding. But no more lollygagging; I didn’t raise you to sloth.”
Lisril swallowed, she was right, of course, but she didn’t know the poor quality of the woman Lisril had been working with. That would just sound like an excuse, though. “Yes, Mama.”
“Mala,” her father said, coming to the rescue. “We’re being rude to our guest, sir; our daughter tells us you’re something of a scholar.”
“Well.” Alex scratched his chin. “I’m a trained physicist, but I consider myself an engineer.”
“Physicist?” her father asked, a frown of concentration creasing his brow.
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“Um.” Alex tilted his head. “A scholar who specializes in the study of the function of creation.”
Her father nodded. “I see.”
“A noble pursuit,” her mother said. “Though strange to see a man engaged in such work.”
“Yes, things are done differently on Earth. But what of you? Lisril mentioned you’re some sort of gardener. Are you the groundskeeper?” Alex said, apparently eager to move the subject away from an interrogation of his working life.
Her mother looked almost insulted. “Lisril, have you instructed him so little? Sir, I am the Imperial Gardener; tasked with managing and cultivating her Magnificence’s agricultural lands. Surely you have been provided supper, and this included some produce; I am responsible for the provision of these articles and ensuring this provision lasts the winter.”
“That must be exhausting.”
“Well, I do less of it myself now. My daughter, that is, Lisril, should have inherited my position when she wed, but-”
“But then I went and scalped her.” He ducked his head.
“Well.” Her mother took her father’s hand. “You needn’t act abashed; it was her decision to make, and I certainly understand the allure of a man’s affections.”
Alex looked up at Lisril, smiling, and his hand came to rest on hers.
“I was a bit surprised,” he said, turning back to the older woman. “If you don’t mind me saying it, how close you were in age, you can’t be more than forty.”
Her mother laughed. “No, sir, I’m no pup.”
He paused, “oh! I’m sorry,” he said. “Earth’s calendar is much longer than Nyx’s; I was thinking in our terms. Forty would be….” He drummed his fingers in his lap. “Ninety, one-hundred, something like that.”
Her mother nodded. “In that case, I am one-hundred-two; lisril is sixty-seven, some months past.”
“You’ve piqued my curiosity now, sir, so if you can forgive the discourtesy….” Her mother leaned forward a bit in her chair, conveying her question with her posture.
“It’s fine,” Alex said. “I’m seventy-five, say, one-hundred eighty by your calendar.”
There was a long silence, then, Opalla, her father’s second wife, laughed. “I’ve never known a man to overstate his age.”
“No, no exaggeration, we’ve just cured old age,” Alex said, matter-of-fact, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
“Aging isn’t a disease,” her mother scoffed.
Alex nodded. “Yes, you're right, but I meant cure more colloquially, in that we no longer suffer the deleterious effects.”
“It seems unbelievable,” her father fairly whispered. “To remain young forever; it sounds like witchery.”
Lisril was around Alex’s chair in an instant; her father sprawled on the ground, cheek red where she’d striped him.
Then Alex was at her side, a hand on her shoulder. “Lisril-”
“Be silent,” she snapped.
Her mother was standing, glaring at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Lisril met the older woman’s wrath with her head held high. “Not more than heaven demands.”
“He is your father,” her mother hissed.
“My father speaks heresy, or have you forgotten, that the very voice of the Lady in this earthly kingdom has granted dispensation to works of human innovation.”
The older woman’s shoulders relaxed. “Be that as it may,” she said. “He is mine to censure, not yours.”
“I forgive you, see to it you seek absolution, and I will see to it he does the same,” her mother said, sighing and shaking her head.
Lisril bowed her head. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good!” Her mother clapped her hands. “Then we are for the Lady to judge. Let us put the whole nasty matter behind us.”
Lisril nodded. “I would like that, Mama.”
Her mother patted her shoulder. “You are young,” she said quietly so that no one else would hear. “And newly wed, your eagerness in his defense does you no dishonor, but temperance is also a virtue.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“One more thing.” The older woman glanced over Lisril’s shoulder at Alex. “You seem to have caused him some consternation; soothe him, when you’ve a quiet moment. I will speak to your father, though I suspect he already understands his folly.”
Lisril nodded, and they separated, returning to their husbands.
The conversation went more smoothly after that, though her father was quiet and sullen. She felt sorry for him, but honestly, he had gotten off lightly.
Eventually, Alex nudged her. “Lisril, it’s getting late.”
She frowned. “You’re right; I’m sorry to have to cut this short,” she said. “But we’ve another engagement we must attend, and Alex needs be up and about come the dawn.”
Her mother stood, the rest of the family joining her. “Of course, I hope we’ll have time to speak again soon,” she said, offering her hand.
“I’m certain we will.” Lisril helped Alex to his feet and shook the hand her mother offered. “It was good to see you all again.”
She led him to the door, but little Hess caught his cloak as they were about to leave.
He turned and smiled down at the child. “Yes?”
The little girl looked up at him with wide, mottled brown eyes. “I’m sorry your nose is so big.”
The girl’s mother seized her by the ear once more. “Ow! but I said sorry!”
“Forgive me, sir.” the woman bowed her head. “I thought I taught her better.”
He laughed. “No, it’s okay.” He extricated the girl from her mother’s grip and tousled her hair. “It was nice meeting you, Hess.”
Hess, rubbing her ear, nodded. “It was nice meeting you, too, sir.”
Lisril smiled and guided him out, ushering him down the hall. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
He shook his head. “No, I-”
“No,” she said. “You did nothing wrong; I won’t hear an apology out of you. You Dyrantoro make a bad habit of that; it’s not courteous; it’s foolish.”
He sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t ma’am me,” she laughed. “And you didn’t let me finish. I’m sorry I yelled at you, and I appreciate your willingness to defer to my experience.”
He kissed her cheek. “I figured you knew the social situation better.”
“Whatever your reason, you did me a good turn; thank you, shall we meet the delegation?” she asked, returning his kiss with one of her own
“We’d better,” he said. “They’re probably in a panty-twisting competition over us by now.”
She giggled. “Then we really had better hurry.”
She led him on, clearing her throat. “Alex, what you said earlier, are you really one-hundred eighty?”
He frowned. “Well,” he said slowly. “Really, the way your calendar shakes out, I’m closer to one-hundred-ninety.”
“A hundred and ninety!” she cried, coming to a stop and turning to face him, eyes widening.
“Lisril!” He stopped and took her hands, drawing them to his chest. “Kitten, look at me; for all necessary purposes, I’m a man in the prime of my youth. So I’m older than I look. Does that make me anyone but the man you know?”
She thought about that; he wasn’t wrong, but she also wasn’t ready to let it go. “Regardless, you should have told me.”
He shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed. “But it really never occurred to me. We don’t worry about these sorts of things anymore, so long as everyone’s old enough to know what they’re getting into.”
She sighed and began leading him once more. “I suppose we’ve both surprised each other today.”
He hummed out his agreement, and they walked on.