Are You Going to Marry My Son?

"What have you done now, Oakbranch?" the woman asked, turning towards Brother Forty-Three.

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he replied stiffly, "Mother, may I present Sister Forty-Six of the Third Temple. My prospective bride. Six, this Mother."

The other woman's eyebrows rose again as she turned back towards Sister Forty-Six. Sharp, bright eyes raked over the nun from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, lingering a bit on the bandaged wing. Both Sera and Sister Forty-Six found the scrutiny uncomfortable. Sister Forty-Six bit their lip, her eyes flicking back and forth between the older woman's gaze and a point over her shoulder. Sera squashed the urge to step in to stare the other woman down, reminding herself that she was trying to go unnoticed.

"Prospective bride," the woman repeated. "Are you certain he is worthy of you?"

"Oh, yes," said Sister Forty-Six, blushing. "It's me that's—" She broke off abruptly and forced herself to meet the other woman's gaze steadily. Though she quailed inwardly and her voice wobbled a bit, she forced herself to say, "I mean to say, I like Three very much, but so do all the girls, and I am not very pretty or important." A stab of sadness went through her before she added, "Also, he doesn't really want to marry me, he just feels guilty about my wing."

"I see," Brother Forty-Three's mother said, shooting her son a look of disapproval. "You may go, Oakbranch."

The monk's shoulders sagged with relief and he took a couple steps away, only to come to a stop with a sigh. Fists clenched, he turned back and said, "I should stay with Six."

"I will take care of your bride for now, boy. Run along," said the monk's mother, giving a dismissive wave. When he didn't go, her eyes narrowed and she added, "Shall I make it an order?"

"Err, no. Six, I'll be in the courtyard if you need me," Brother Forty-Three said, and then fled down the stairs.

His mother turned aback towards Sister Forty-Six and smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Let me tell you a little secret, my dear." She leaned in and whispered, "Beauty isn't everything."

Something in Sister Forty-Six loosened at those words, and she smiled weakly back at the older woman. Carefully slipping her arm around Sister Forty-Six's waist, Brother Forty-Three's mother led the way towards an archway on the far side of the room, saying, "Now, let's get you settled. Are you going to marry my son?"

Sister Forty-Six missed a step at the abrupt question. Since the older woman was awaiting her reply expectantly she ventured, "No?"

Brother Forty-Three's mother flashed a grin very much like her son's. "Well then I suppose you shouldn't call me 'Mother' just yet. I imagine you couldn't bring yourself to call me Snow?"

Sister Forty-Six shook her head in vehement denial.

"Ah, well. Lady Snowpearl, then. I am very glad to hear you have not absolutely made up your mind to refuse my boy, though," the older woman said. "I still have hope that one day he'll pull his head out of his ass and become the man he should be. He's the brightest of my boys, but he subscribes to a lot of silly popular notions about what makes a person valuable. Also, he's a bit full of himself. Probably because 'all the girls like him', as you say."

Beyond the archway was, unsurprisingly, a hallway. The walls were a pale cream color and the carpet was several shades of gold and green. Every few yards there were little niches that held statues or large vases full of flowering plants, or bright colored glass sculptures. The hall's arched ceiling was painted blue and white, like a summer sky. Arched double doors, most of them open, led into a series of parlors, studies, and dining rooms, all of them empty. At the end of the hall was another curving staircase, this one wrapped around a wrought-iron core that proved to be the cage of a circular elevator.

"My second husband had this put in as an anniversary gift," Lady Snowpearl commented, "It was the only intelligent thing he ever did, aside from marrying me. But then I didn't marry him for his brains." She winked as she said this last, laughing when Sister Forty-Six completely failed to hide her horror. "Ah, I see I'm in the 'too old for sex' category in your mind. Very well, I'll stop teasing you, Six. May I call you Six?"

Sister Forty-Six nodded her agreement, face flaming.

"Thank you, dear. I'm going to put you in the room across the hall from Obie--err, Oakbranch. Brother Forty-Three. That way if you need anything you can find him easily. He'll most likely hide in the stables or the courtyard during the day. I presume you will be staying with us for a few weeks at least, while you heal?" Lady Snowpearl asked.

"I . . ." Sister Forty-Six said, but stopped, clearly having no idea what her prognosis was.

'It will take three weeks for the bones to heal, and then there will be exercises to strengthen the wing again,' Sera advised. She felt the younger woman's relief at being given the answer. 'Doctor Roseleaf wanted to see you tomorrow, but that could be problematic.'

Sister Forty-Six's relief turned to chagrin as she relayed Sera's information to Lady Snowpearl, and in doing so realized how long her recovery would take. Flushing, she finished up, "I won't impose that long, of course. Just a short while--"

"Nonsense, my dear," Lady Snowpearl interrupted. "You'll stay with us until you're completely healed."

The elevator had arrived what must be the top floor, since the roof of this latest hallway was glass. The walls of this hallway featured portraits of people, most of them bearing a resemblance to Lady Snowpearl and Brother Forty-Three. Family, Sera guessed.

"But I have nothing to offer to earn my keep," Sister Forty-Six said, blushing as she followed Lady Snowpearl down the hall.

"You need not worry about that," Lady Snowpearl replied. Noting Sister Forty-Six's frown, she went on, "If you are absolutely insistent on 'earning your keep', there are any number of chores you can help with. You can read and write, I presume? And do sums?"

"I finished school," Sister Forty-Six confirmed. "But it was just primary school, I didn't have any higher education. I'm just a farm-girl."

"Hmm, so we can put you to work in the kitchen or the stable, if all else fails. But not for a week or two yet," Lady Snowpearl declared. "I'm not letting you off the hook that easily."

"Off the hook?" Sister Forty-Six said, eyes wide.

Lady Snowpearl didn't answer, instead turning to one of the many doors along the hall and opening it. She ushered Sister Forty-Six through to the room beyond.

It was a pretty room, the furniture a light maple, the colors rose-pink and cream. Full-length windows, closed at the moment, overlooked a sunny balcony with a view of the forest and another garden.

"I'll have some clothes brought up for you, and something to snack on as well. We won't be dining until eight, so you'll have time to rest before you meet the rest of the household. There's no need to dress for dinner tonight. We won't inflict a formal meal on you until you're ready," Lady Snowpearl promised.

Sister Forty-Six was not reassured, Sera noted. But she managed to say politely, "Thank you, Lady Snowpearl."

Lady Snowpearl indicated a door to the right, saying, "Your bath is through that door. Obie is in the room directly across the hall. But he's hiding at the bottom of many, many stairs so if you need anything before comes up to get cleaned up, then call housekeeping. Just pick up the receiver and it will ring through to the chatelaine's office."

"Thank you," Sister Forty-Six said again. Lady Snowpearl smiled and gave Sister Forty-Six a gentle hug, taking care not to disturb her injured wing.

"I fully intend to see that you are spoiled so thoroughly you never want to leave. Consider yourself warned," the older woman said. "Now rest up, and I'll have Obie to fetch you for supper."

As Sister Forty-Six thanked her yet again, Lady Snowpearl left, closing the door as she went. The nun stared at the door for a moment, then hugged herself as she turned in a slow circle to survey the room.

"This bedroom is enormous," she whispered. And then, uneasily, "Why is Lady Snowpearl being so nice to me?"

'She wants you to marry Brother Forty-Three,' Sera reminded her.

"But why?"

'Brother Forty-Three said he doesn't have any sisters, and his brothers all left to live with their wives' families. It sounded like she has no one to pass . . . all of this onto when she dies,' Sera said.

"That's so sad," Sister Forty-Six said. She moved to the windows and opened each in turn. The balcony had a hammock that the nun eyed thoughtfully.

'It's been a long and exhausting day. We could use a nap. Or at least a sit-down.'

"Yes," Sister Forty-Six agreed. She glanced skyward, shook her head with a sigh, and retreated to the bed, stretching out on her stomach. "It doesn't make sense though."

'What doesn't make sense?' asked Sera.

"That none of the other sons stayed. One of them must have married someone ambitious enough to want to be Lady Snowpearl's heir," said Sister Forty-Six. "Besides, my marrying Three won't help. It's not like we're mated."

'There's a difference between being married and being mated?' asked Sera.

"Of course," Sister Forty-Six said sleepily. "You can marry anyone. But you can only have children with your mate."

'Brother Forty-Three seemed to think you and he could have children,' Sera observed. Sister Forty-Six didn't respond, and Sera concluded that she'd fallen asleep. Their shared body was exhausted, and weariness pulled on Sera's consciousness. She found herself fighting to stay awake, half afraid that if she fell asleep she wouldn't wake up again. Or worse, she'd 'wake' to the in-between place of the dead. But it was a losing proposition, and she was sliding into the fog of sleep after sister Sera.

'Nature made me too ugly to have a mate. Three said so.'

"That's just stupid," Sera muttered. "What does he know?"

'More than I do. Three is very smart.'

'Not that smart, or he'd treat you better,' Sera thought sleepily in answer. She had the distinct feeling that Sister Forty-Six was troubled by the idea. 'Worry later. Sleep now.'