Page 23 of A Match Made in Slumber

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR stares down at his stomped foot in deep bewilderment, then looks at Elian's panicked face.] Certainly. That I am... pumpkin.

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR smiles so hard his cheeks look ready to split, his breathing turning shallow.] As a high-ranking officer, Keălhem is simply used to eliminating risks and looking after his... what do you call it? Herd? Pack? Flock? Goddess, help me. Either way, he’s not in any way dangerous to the general public. I assure you. Zero aggression, on a scale from one to ten.

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB nods, an expression of satisfaction appearing on his face as he makes a very large, thorough checkmark in the ledger.] Mmm. Naturally, the Council does not condone public violence. However, I agree that under specific social circumstances, certain dandy libertines who constantly pester innocent individuals—trying to trap them into scandalous, unsolicited rendezvous at the Bold Trader inn and the likes—deserve to be educated.

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR blinks, his face blank.]

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB slams the ledger shut with a definitive thud.] The municipal authorities rest. I have asked all the questions I deem necessary. The Reñyés Spousal Audit is hereby concluded. Thank you for attending the interview. If your union passes certification and is duly authenticated, you shall receive an official stamped letter explaining your score within two days. If not, I’ll notify you of the next steps. Good day to you both.

Elian

We walked out of the High Arbiter’s office and into the marble corridor, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind us. I took exactly three steps before my knees turned to wet dough, forcing me to lean against the cool wall.

“Well, that went rather well, I thought. Don’t you agree?” Kill’em adjusted the vambraces on his indigo tunic, pleased as you like.

Incredulous, I cast Kill’em a look and then buried my face in my hands, trying to breathe.

In which universe did that go well? I found myself envious of Kill’em unfazed confidence, cringing at the memory of the spectacle I’d made of myself. Worse still, my ordeal had been immortalised and sealed in the public archives, every excruciating detail transcribed into the official minutes by a relentless magical scribe that missed nothing. Just brilliant.

I did feel somewhat better, however, when Kill’em’s heavy hand petted my hair.

Things Get Complicated

Timeline: Forty-five hours after the Spousal Audit

Keălhem

Two days later, the legal bundle from Tower Hall arrived via special magical pigeon. Clack-clack-clack. The bird tapped its beak on our window, alerting us to the delivery as we readied to leave for the market that morning. Inside the postal pouch rested three parchments—one bearing a couple of ink stamps, a thick wax seal and an elaborate, illegible signature. A complete overkill in terms of officiality.

Since the interview, Elian had existed in a state of heightened nervousness. Left to his own devices, he would have skipped proper meals, surviving on steady rations of sweet scones and cakes. Despite his spiked sugar cravings, I took it as a personal challenge to get some hot soup into him at least once a day. His stress diet made my teeth hurt.

“You read it,” he said, his hands shaking as he thrust the paper towards me. “I dare not look.”

I nodded and scanned the text, pleased to put my newly acquired literacy skills to the test. The neatness of Cholerius’ handwriting made that task all the easier. “How about that? Ninety points. A resounding victory. We’ve passed, as I said we would.” I smiled, glancing down at him. “Well done, pumpkin.”

“You will never let that go, will you?” he groaned, his high cheekbones flushing pink. I found that mortification looked very fetching on him.

I couldn’t help but scoop him up in my arms to console him, pressing him against the edge of the kitchen table to treat him to a little bit of tongue work and groping until his sulking melted into soft, breathless sighs—sounds highly corruptive to my composure. Alas, the time didn’t allow us the chance to take it where we wanted it to go.

“What are those two other parchments?” Elian asked several minutes later, his voice still a little husky as he smoothed down his crumpled robe.

Settie had recently enlightened me that the specific shade of the garments he favoured was called teal. The colour suited Elian perfectly, bringing out the delicate pallor of his skin, his black hair, and his dark, angular eyes, framed with curtains of lashes. Who knew I’d ever find myself caring about, or even noticing, something as frivolous as a nuance of colour? Two weeks prior, I wouldn't have given a damn.

I picked up the additional sheets to give them a quick scan. “My residency permit. And my contract as Chief of Marketplace Security.” I shrugged, though a slow grin pulled at my mouth. “Ha. Seems I am officially a citizen of Everend with an honest job besides.”

Elian stilled, his expression growing into something sober. “Congratulations, Chief Reñyés.” He hugged me, a glimmer in his eyes. He tilted his head, testing the words aloud. “Chief Reñyés. That has a very respectable ring to it.”

I snorted, but deep inside, a strange wave of warmth caught me off guard. The sensation felt oddly similar to the day I’d received my promotion to lieutenant—the first major milestone of my military career, the turning point that had once meant everything to me. Back then, I had considered a sabre in my hand and an army uniform on my back the only things that could ever give my life meaning. Yet here I stood, stunned to realise an appointment as a glorified watchman at what could be described as a massive, pastel-coloured funfair excited me just as much as receiving the command of the High Vanguard. Commander Reñyés—once a renowned strategist, the brightest tactical mind of his era, as they said—now reduced to policing candyfloss queues and runaway magical anvils. It was absurd, but I had never felt happier and more settled.

“Let’s celebrate,” Elian declared, his anxiety evaporating as he grabbed his satchel and slung it across his shoulder. “How about stopping at Aisling’s stall for breakfast? I’ll treat you to some of those wild mushroom pies you like.”

“Mmm, you’d better,” I said, laying the documents on the table. “I still don't have a single piece of silver to my name.”

I paused by the door as the ridiculousness of the situation finally caught up to me. I erupted into a deep belly laugh.

Startled, Elian blinked and paused, his eyes growing wide as though he’d been captivated by the sound. “Goddess, I think this is the first time I've ever heard you laugh out loud. Properly, I mean. But whatever is the matter?”

“I’ve just realised,” I said, shaking my head as I ushered him out into the morning sun, “I’m about to accept a binding municipal contract without even asking what it pays.”