One of his hands left her waist. He stroked her hair back from her face.
“It is forgiven; it is forgotten,” he whispered. “Aelliana . . . ” He cleared his throat. “What were you about at the port?”
“A tale hangs there,” she said, “which might be better heard sitting down.”
He released her immediately. She stepped back, keeping a grip on his hand and pulled him back onto the reading chair.
“Sit,” she murmured, and when he had done so, she sat across his lap, leaning companionably against him. He was so cold; she was desperate to warm him.
“Mizel's letter to me was something like your own,” she murmured. “I had been too long absent from duty and therefore commanded to return to my natural place. It was also noted that I held free title to a ship, and to a business, both of which I would be required to relinquish to the clan. I could thereafter expect to receive my proportionate share of any profit realized from either.”
She felt a snarl of anger from Daav, which was better at least than the cold.
“Yes,” she said, comfortably settling her head against his shoulder. “It was very stupid, for of course I had to act in my ship's best defense, whereupon I went to the port, van'chela, in order to see Jon dea'Cort.”
“One wonders—why did your mind turn to Jon?”
“You'll recall that he holds a note for the repair and installation of the nav-comp units.”
“Ah, yes, so he does. Did you pay him, then?”
“Pay him?” She raised her head to look into face. “Van'chela, I fear you have become overtired. I cannot afford to redeem that note. No, I asked Jon to put a lien against The Luck.”
Delight shot through them. Daav threw back his head and laughed.
“Yes, of course you did!” he gasped, when he was able to speak at all. “And Jon was pleased to comply, I assume?”
“Not precisely at first,” she confessed. “But once I had made him familiar with the case, he was eager to assist in any way that he could. We went to his woman of business—and it was there that time began to slide away from me, van'chela, for the matter was not as simple to effect as it was to envision. Additionally, there were some points upon which Jon stood adamant, and still other complications introduced by his qe'andra. Did you know that a ship must be inspected and certified before a third-party lien can be set against it?”
“Actually, I did, but only because Mr. dea'Gauss does insist upon explaining these matters to me as we go along.”
Aelliana laughed softly. “Well, I wish I had known! However, it was all eventually done, signed, and filed. After, we fetched Trilla and Mistress Apel and all went to find something to eat, which I see now that I should not have done—”
“No.” He raised a hand and put his fingers lightly over her lips. “A call would have sufficed. Had I only known that you were with Jon and not lifted for the Out . . . ”
“Without my copilot?”
“The ship must come first, for the pilot.”
“So it must,” Aelliana agreed, and added the phrase she had lately learnt from Anne. “But there is not only one way to skin a cat.”
Daav laughed. “So I learn. Your copilot, I am sad to report, is a lackwit.”
“No, that I cannot allow. My copilot had other matters to concern him. How does Mr. dea'Gauss suggest we respond to this absurd charge of kin-stealing?”
“Mr. dea'Gauss is inclined to believe that Mizel can carry the day, does it come to that. He advises that I propose contract to you, Aelliana, which buys us more time together, all by Code and custom.”
“Contract?” she repeated, around a sudden gone feeling in her stomach. “But—that merely puts off the inevitable! When the contract is fulfilled, I will be required to return to Mizel.” She shook her head.
“He cannot have thought the matter through. The better solution is for us to cry lifemates, pay Mizel its price, and sign the lines.”
A rush of emotion so powerful she could scarcely hold onto her own soul swept 'round her in joyous chaos.
“You had, I thought,” Daav murmured, “no wish to be Korval.”
“Nor do I,” she answered warmly, “and I shall doubtless make many bitter errors. However, it appears that I must have Korval, if I am to attain Daav, and so I accept the handicap, if you can accept my ignorance.”
“You are not ignorant,” he told her. He touched her cheek with fingers that trembled. “I say to you, Aelliana Caylon, that your solving this day—rather, your solving of yesterday!—is masterful. Only consider Korval your ship and you shall do very well for all of us!”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Truly, Daav, it was all I could think to do!”
“Your instincts,” he said solemnly, “are good.”
He tipped his head, and she felt a returning flutter of fear, paired uneasily with doubt.
“Tell me true, Aelliana, for I would not see you trapped: Do you think that you may bear it?”
“Bear it?” she repeated. “Since the first time we flew together, I had wanted nothing but to sit board with you, always. If Korval is the ship we have to fly, then—best together than apart.”
