Page 18 of A Match Made in Slumber

"It’s prime courting season during the Great Market. Getting married now adds glamour and prestige to the mix," I whispered back, shifting my weight from one foot to the other to suppress a wince. The delicious ache in my lower department came as a consequence of anchoring a very demanding military commander, who recognised nothing but unconditional surrender. Still, despite staying awake for half a night, I felt chirpy and energised.

Kill’em’s wry face told me exactly what he thought of glamour and prestige.

He loomed like a statue beside me, carrying himself like a flawless conqueror with an annoying amount of poise. As if he hadn't upended my entire mattress—and my composure–a few hours prior. His quartz-blond hair caught the morning light and the eye of many a passerby.

Gawk was all they could do. It would be me signing a marriage contract with this fine specimen in a few minutes. Or years—judging by the slow pace of the line.

“Why are you smirking?” Kill’em said into my ear. The low, gravelly vibration of his voice sent a very untimely shiver straight down my spine.

I avoided answering by pretending to brush a phantom piece of lint off my garments.

When our turn finally arrived, we stepped up to desk number one. The process, I noted, carried all the sweeping romance of a tax assessment. The clerk sitting opposite us possessed a kind of detached demeanour achieved only by seasoned bureaucrats. Despite the ever-swelling queue behind us, he refused to be rushed, smoothing out Verity's parchment with his bony thumbs.

Before studying our paperwork, the clerk cleared his throat and rattled off a formulaic declaration in a flat, practised drone. "Be advised that under municipal law, matrimony constitutes a strictly binding legal mechanism. Its primary function serves to establish a new household, expand an existing family, consolidate community ties and secure property allocations. While mutual affection remains a permissible bonus, the law considers such sentiment entirely beside the point. Love does not require a contract; however this ledger does."

He paused and dipped his quill into a well of thick ink. "Names, occupations and places of origin."

"Malvelian Fountenblym. Magical alchemist from Emberleigh," I said.

"Commander Keălhem Reñyés. The Highest Vanguard of the Realm. Born in Asirhwÿn in the Elven Country," Kill'em stated with military cadence.

The clerk’s hand froze mid-air. He squinted at our papers, then adjusted his spectacles and altered his posture to peer again at the heading on the parchment. For a brief second, his unflustered facade cracked. He raised a singular judgmental eyebrow.

"A Binding Contract of Matrimony under the Doctrine of Union Restoration? U-huh," he said, a dry hint of surprise clinging to his tone. "Well. I haven't seen one of these processed in… never, actually. Fascinating." The bureaucrat in him recovered the next moment and his brief curiosity fled. He reached across his table, his fingers dragging the massive, leather-bound tome from the corner. He flipped it open, his eyes darting down the page to check a single entry before he snapped the cover shut and slid the book into its place. "Let us log the asset declaration and restitution dowry."

I gaped. "The… what?"

"As the summoning party responsible for the planar infraction," the clerk explained in monotonous inflexion and pointed to his ledger, "the law mandates you provide full financial restitution to the displaced party to secure their legal transition. Please list your holdings."

"Right. Um. Well, I have my market stall, Enchanted Matchsticks for Every Occasion. A two-bedroom cottage with a rear garden and approximately two hundred gold pieces deposited in the Bank of Everend."

"And the summoned party?" The clerk turned his dull stare towards Kill’em. "Your current assets on… this plane?"

Nonchalant, Kill’em squared his shoulders, completely indifferent about his utter lack of material wealth. "One leather and steel armour. One ancient Elven sabre. A gemstone-encrusted silver hairpin. And this indigo set of silk clothes on my back, purchased by my… betrothed.”

The clerk took notes in his ledger. "Very well. For the purposes of this record, the summoner's entire estate—stall, house and savings—is hereby transferred into a joint restorative trust as a mandatory dowry to compensate the displaced party."

Kill’em frowned again, his expression solemn as he turned his gaze down towards me. He adjusted his stance. "Your legalities are noted, clerk, but let it also be recorded that I am a high-ranking officer with command over three battalions. Rest assured, I intend to provide for my family and safeguard my spouse’s household by any means available to me here."

A dizzying warmth bloomed in my chest at the protective aura emitting from Kill’em and his casual use of the word family—something I’d stopped hoping for ages ago.

The clerk gave a long-suffering sigh, which I interpreted as him wanting us the hell out of his queue. "A formal declaration of intent to support the union has been logged. Thumbprints, please. Left hand for the summoner, right for the summoned."

We pressed our thumbs into a shallow ceramic dish filled with a shimmering, iridescent purple ink that smelled faintly of sage, then stamped them onto the bottom of the parchment. The ink flared with a brief, violet spark, indicating the magical activation of our signatures and the entrance of our contract into the official evidence book.

The clerk turned a page, his eyes scanning a checklist. "Standard administrative queries before the final seal is applied. Under Section Nine of the Marital Code, do the contracting parties wish to opt for a Fluid Partnership, allowing the addition of other spouses at a later date?"

“No," we blurted in perfect unison.

The clerk's quill hovered. "Very well. Do you wish to include a Mutual Consent Clause regarding independent extramarital dalliances?"

"No," we snapped again.

My heart performed a nervous little jig against my ribs. I went onto my tiptoes, leaned sideways and tugged at Kill’em’s sleeve. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I said, "Um… Kill’em? Did you actually want to include any of those options? I mean, personally I’m not big on… extra dalliances and that… but, if you, um…"

I trailed off as Kill’em stopped staring at the ledger and turned his head to glance down at me. At his deadpan, textbook are-you-insane look, I shut my mouth.

"Right. Standard monogamy it is," I squeaked, turning back to the desk with a burning face.