Copper Ravens(72)

With that, Mom turned on her heel and dragged Sadie toward the weaving shop, which I deduced from the shopkeeper’s resemblance to a black widow. Once they were inside, I understood why Mom had chosen that shop: it had a large front window, affording them an excellent view of nearly all entrances to the square.

I murmured for Max to take care, and then followed Micah across the square. Instead of entering one of the shops, we took up a shadowy spot at the mouth of an alley, which was fine with me. I did not like this market, being that I was still engaged in a mental battle to keep the black magic from again reducing me to a quivering heap of self-doubt, and I wanted to be away from here as soon as possible. Once we’d found a good position, Micah’s arm snaked around my waist, while his other hand grasped the token I wore.

“I worry that you still do not understand the meaning of this token,” he whispered, holding the leaf and acorn before my eyes.

“It means that the oaks are your friends,” I replied, trying to focus on Max. This was not the time or place for relationship discussions. Micah, however, had other ideas.

“By wearing my token, you proclaim to all that you are mine. My consort. My lover.” He pressed a kiss behind my ear. “My equal.”

“But I’m not your equal. I won’t be, not until I’m your wife.” He turned me around, tilting my chin up so he could look me in the eye.

“You will be, once—”

“An heir, I know.” I couldn’t look at him and keep my voice steady, so I stared at a point above his shoulder. “Not until then.”

“Sara, I cannot alter the way of things. This has been our tradition for many, many generations.” I nodded since I already knew these things. Really, I understood his predicament. It didn’t mean that I had to like it. “You want to be my wife so badly?”

At that, I met his eyes. “Yeah. I do.” Micah’s eyes widened, and I feared I’d said something wrong. Like there was even a right thing to say. “I mean, it’s just not what I’m used to. Humans get married before they have heirs. Children.” Well, it didn’t always work that way, but I decided to forgo a discussion on the ramifications of unplanned pregnancy. “I mean, if I got pregnant today, by the time I have the baby, we still wouldn’t have known each other for a year.”

“Thirteen months,” Micah corrected.

“Still. That’s not very long.” Something behind me caught Micah’s attention; I peeked over my shoulder and learned that it was just Max, throwing pebbles in the fountain. “And, it’s not like I know anything about babies. I was only two when Sadie was born. I don’t know how to feed one or bathe one.” It was easier saying these things when Micah wasn’t looking at me. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Micah tightened his arms about me, pressing his face against my hair. “Sara, my Sara, you will be a fine mother,” he murmured. “Forgive me for not considering your customs.”

“Forgiven.” As if I could stay mad at him, anyway. After a quick kiss, I turned sideways in his arms so we could both keep an eye on Max.

“Humans marry before children?” he murmured, and I nodded. “Tell me how.”

“Well, the easiest way is to go to your local Hall of Records and get a certificate. There’s usually a Peacekeeper on duty who can perform the ceremony.”

“These ceremonies, they are complex rituals?”

“No. You exchange rings and a few words and it’s done.” I went on, describing the basic ceremony, all the guests and food at the reception, and the huge, gaudy rings celebrities tended toward. Throughout my explanations Micah remained thoughtful, his eyes resting on Max while one hand stroked my neck, his other hand firm on my mark.

“Very well,” Micah said when I was done. “We shall go to the Mundane realm, and I will exchange words with you.”

“What?” I gasped.

“I will make you a ring, too,” Micah continued, turning his eyes to mine. “A ring so large all will know that you are mine.”

“I don’t need a huge ring,” I mumbled.

“Then a plain band.”

“Micah, we can’t go back to the Mundane realm,” I argued weakly. “We’re fugitives. We’ll be captured.”

“I’ll glamour you.”

“But—”

“Are you going to keep arguing with me, or are you going to say yes?”

I blinked, my last protest dying on my lips. I’d been so sure that Micah would cast me aside once he learned that I didn’t want a baby just yet; all this time, I’d thought that an heir was his fondest desire. That desire, it seemed, was for me.