“Very well,” the Doge answered. “Let’s return to the court and make the announcement, then you’ll be free to go and I can return to the scheduled appointments.
“Oh, and one more thing, my champion; I don’t know how you will handle it, but expect everyone to want to see the goddess’s mark on your chest.”
They walked back to the throne room, where the crowd grew silent as the Doge and Kestrel stood before the throne, while Moresond stood in front of them, a step lower, and made the announcement of the reception to take place the following evening. The room immediately burst into a roar of commentary as Kestrel slipped back out the small door, and discreetly left the palace.
He strolled through the city, as he went directly to Daley’s millinery shop, where he banged the door shut upon his arrival, startling Daley, Merilla’s father, who was cutting a delicate piece of fabric that needed delivery to a customer. “Can I help you?” he asked, looking up from his work and looking over the top of the glasses he wore for examining delicate items up close.
“My name is Kestrel, and I am a friend of Merilla’s,” Kestrel introduced himself. “We’ve met before, back when Merilla first returned.”
“Of course! Of course!” Daley replied. “You’re the one who rescued her and brought her back, then disappeared for — how long has it been? — over a month now. Would you like to see her? She and the boys happen to be here this morning. Stay right there and I’ll go upstairs and get her.”
The man sprung up from his chair and out the back door, leaving Kestrel to fidget nervously as he awaited the man’s return. Only a few minutes passed before the door opened, and Merilla stepped into the shop. Her eyes swept the room, then came to rest on Kestrel, and widened dramatically. “Oh Kestrel,” she practically moaned the words as she came rushing around the counter and into his arms.
Kestrel smiled broadly as they embraced. “I’m so glad to see you again,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re as lovely as ever.”
“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” she replied. She looked up at him and he kissed her, then they stepped apart.
“I’m just passing through the city for a day or two, and I had to visit,” he told her, and saw a look of concern momentarily race across her features.
“Your timing is extraordinary,” she paused. “I’m supposed to announce my engagement to Hammon the day after tomorrow,” she replied.
It was his turn to suffer momentary shock. He looked down at her, not knowing what to say. “The mothers have arranged it. The wedding won’t occur until after my mourning period is over, probably long after, if I can manage,” she explained. “Hammon won’t object to the delay, if I ask him, poor, sweet thing — he’s being manipulated into this almost as much as I am.”
Kestrel blanched at the thought of Merilla married to another man, but could imagine no realistic way he could intervene, unless he turned his back on all that he knew he had to do, and all that depended on him.
“But for the next two nights you’re not yet engaged?” he asked.
“In the eyes of the city, no. In the eyes of my mother, I already am,” Merilla answered.
“And what do your eyes see?” Kestrel asked. “Could you go to the palace with me tomorrow night as my guest at a reception?”
She stepped backwards a few inches, to better scrutinize his face. “What do you mean?”
“The Doge is going to hold a reception for the court tomorrow, to introduce the Champion to them all publically. I hoped you would be my escort,” he explained.
She stood silent for several seconds as she weighed the consequences of her decision; “Yes, I’ll be your escort,” she accepted the offer.
“Merilla? Are you still down here?” Kestrel heard Durille, her mother call, just moments before she came through the door into the shop. She paused upon entry and examined Kestrel for a long minute. “So you’ve returned, I see,” she said in a flat voice as she recognized him.
“Has Merilla told you her happy news?” Durille asked him.
“Kestrel just asked me if I’d go to a reception at the Doge’s court with him tomorrow evening, as his guest,” Merilla spoke up before Kestrel answered. “He didn’t know about my upcoming betrothal of course. I’ve agreed to go with him,” she said calmly, “since I will only still be a widow in mourning tomorrow, you know. He has to leave again in a day or two.”
Durille’s face was a mask as she listened and considered the implications of Merilla’s declaration, made in a determined voice. There was little likelihood of undoing this complication, she concluded, and then this bane of her plan to settle Merilla down would be gone again, and Merilla would be suitably engaged.
“That sounds like a wonderful plan, and your friend is fortunate to be invited to such a prestigious event,” she replied, wondering if he really was even invited to such an activity at the palace, never having learned of the honors he received. “What do you plan to wear?”
“I’ll make something. We’ve got all this fabric I can borrow,” she replied.
“Well, I better go back upstairs to watch your boys,” Durille said. “You’ll need to get back to them soon as well.”
“I will mother, I will,” Merilla said. “I’ll be up in a couple of minutes.”
With a last suspicious look, the mother left the shop, and Merilla gave a sigh of relief. “What should I wear?” she asked Kestrel rhetorically, as she looked around the shop at the bolts of cloth. “I’ll bet you’d like to see me wear this, wouldn’t you?” she asked as she stepped to the far wall and pulled a white bundle of fabric out of its slot. She pulled the cloth away from the bolt and held it in front of her face, a sheer fabric that Kestrel could easily see through. He imagined momentarily what she would look like dressed in such a design, her body visible beneath the covering.
“Merilla! Can you make a shirt for me using that fabric?” he asked, his mind jumping from her clothing question to his own.
“Really? That’s how enticing I am to you?” she replied in exasperation. “Just good old Merilla! Maybe she’ll be my seamstress. No excitement there; going to marry the leathermonger, ho hum?”
“No, no, that’s not it,” Kestrel replied. “I did think about you in a dress of your see-through fabric; I imagined being able to see that freckle on your lower back, just below your waist, or those curves you have that are so inviting, or the mole just above your navel, or,” he was ready to name something else when she cut him off.
“That’s enough, Kestrel. My mother may be listening, you know,” she blushed as she lowered the cloth.
“But the Doge said that everyone at court will want to see the mark the goddess implanted on my chest; I’ve already taken my shirt off three times this morning,” he explained.
“So if you wore a transparent shirt at the reception,” Merilla followed his logic, “everyone could see the mark and you wouldn’t have to do anything to show it.
“Alright, I’ll make a shirt for you, my Champion!” she laughed.
“Now, I have to go upstairs,” she placed the cloth back in its spot on the wall and rejoined Kestrel. I’ll be at my house tonight, if you have time to come visit,” she added, as Kestrel placed an arm around her waist.
“I can’t help myself; I’ve thought about you so much, lately,” he told her as he kissed her.
“Can you stay; can you settle down here, Kestrel? I can tell Hammon and my mother ‘no’ if you tell me you’ll come back,” she answered.
He shook his head. “I’ll be gone a long time this time, I’m afraid,” he told her as he released her.
Her hopeful smile turned downward. “Go on now,” she responded. “I’ll see you tonight.” And then she was through the shop door and gone from view, giving Kestrel a reason to leave the shop and return to Castona’s trading place.
He felt remorseful as he walked through the streets to Castona’s shop. He shouldn’t have reinserted himself back into Merilla’s life, he knew, especially as she was settling into a life that would be fixed and solid and reliable here in her home city. But he also knew that he would go to see her that evening, after dark, after the leather shop was closed and after her boys were asleep.
When he reached the trader’s shop Castona wasn’t present, but the assistant at the counter told him to go wait in any of the rooms in the back, knowing as they did of Kestrel’s close relationship to Castona and his special status. Kestrel sat in the room for an hour, glad for the warmth inside, and thought about his visit to the palace earlier in the morning. He had questions for Castona, he knew.
“Well, you’re back sooner than I expected. I thought you might spend all day at the palace,” the merchant
