Silence.

  There was a great deal of it while we all stood around waiting for my father to say something.

  Etiquette-wise, the count should have welcomed Bastian in - but Count Valin was too busy scrutinizing my betrothed. The two locked eyes, Bastian's a neutral polite smile and father's in full inspection mode.

  They were trapped in some sort of unspoken staring match.

  And then Mr. Sniffles sneezed violently. Twice. Bastian broke eye contact immediately to address the bundle in his arms, hurriedly pulling out an unfinished quilted blanket from his storage for the animal and wrapping him tight. Mr. Sniffles sniffed and then started nibbling on the edge of the quilt.

  Worry for the capybara and Oak Lilly and the entire county pushed me to ask. “Should we head–”

  “What is that?” Father, however, was distracted by the capybara; as if really seeing it for the first time.

  “Mr. Sniffles.”

  “Mr. Snifflesworth the First.”

  Bastian and I answered at the same time. Bastian walked up beside me, carrying the now bundled capybara as if Mr. Sniffles were nothing more than a large quilted pillow.

  Count Valin’s eyebrows furrowed, “And why is Mr Sniffles here? In my parlor?”

  “He followed us from Valley Crest.” Bastian replied, as if that explained everything.

  My father looked between us and a single hand rose to pinch the bridge of his nose. Probably not a good sign.

  Bastian, for some reason, decided to add, “I was originally planning on leaving Mr Sniffleworth in the stables…”-the drakin glanced at the window-”but capybara don’t do well in the cold.”

  It wasn’t much warmer indoors, but I didn’t say that out loud.

  Father drew a steadying breath. As he visibly worked to control himself, the environment followed suit. The delicate snowflakes outside fell fewer and farther between before there were none left, and the icy chill crept away. The temperature in the room got noticeably comfortable. Oak Lilly’s enchantments helped defrost the parlor - and the rest of the tree - warming up the space quicker than normal.

  After a breath, the thin moon appeared in a cloud free sky, illuminating the snow that still lay on the ground outside.

  If my father could control himself tonight, the snow should be melted by morning.

  “There.” Father sighed. “Your beast– Mr Snifflesworth can stay inside until Malory prepares proper accommodations. I am assuming you will need proper accommodations as well, Knight Commander? How long are you planning to stay?”

  He somehow made it sound less appealing to put up Bastian than the capybara– which I didn’t think was fair. Mr Sniffles had been otherwise well-behaved for a wild creature. The sneezes most certainly weren't his fault.

  “Only a few days,” Bastian stated. “If you would be so kind.”

  We were still standing. Since it didn’t look like my father could get rid of him, Count Valin gave up and waved us to the couch. He opened his mouth to say something, and then thought better of it, pointing instead to one of the ornate high back chairs. “Alright, let's sit and talk.”

  I sat on the couch with my father, and Bastian went where he was directed, settling into the chair… but Mr Sniffles wasn’t happy to be sitting in a chair. He struggled against the blankets until Bastian released his hold, at which the capybara shook himself loose of the quilt and jumped down off the chair. He was sniffing the air, his nose pointed towards the door.

  A door that opened to reveal Malory and a tray with tea and snacks. Mr. Sniffles happily went to the butler to beg treats, while we all watched.

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  “Hello there,” Prim and proper Malory looked on the creature with barely hidden delight, and picked up a whole parsnip that was sitting on the otherwise ornate tea trolley full of delicate finger foods. He hand fed Mr Sniffles the vegetable - going so far as to pet the creature while Mr Sniffles was distracted with his new snack.

  There were more important things that we could be talking about… but it wasn’t every day a capybara was in my parlor begging my butler for snacks.

  “Yes, well.” father coughed, turning back to Bastian - who looked a touch forlorn between the tea trolley and the empty quilt in his lap. The coughing got the drakin’s attention though, and he quickly straightened. Father continued, “As you may have guessed, we were not informed of the royal’s intentions when they let my daughter travel north.”

  “I am aware.” Bastian nodded.

  Of course, I’d told him that piece of information, but the blunt way he’d said it didn’t sit well with my father. “Then you understand why we do not agree to this marriage?”

  “I understand your reservations.” Bastian countered. While he spoke, his hands busily started smoothing out the bunched up and gnawed on quilt in his lap and then neatly folded it. “However, the trade agreement is a great boon to Sumbria, who will see immediate positive impact from Peldeep’s increased trade ships. The damages you have suffered from Pirate Abra and her band of Misfit Undead are extensive, and our tax free imports here will allow Sumbria to bounce back from the attacks in half the time it would otherwise take. Not including the negotiated crafters who set sail after the contract was signed to help rebuild your three burned down ports.”

  It was hard to have port trade without a functioning port.

  My father's hand raised in front of me as if to protect me from Bastian’s logic. “The trade deal shouldn’t require a marriage. Sumbria and Peldeep could come to an accord without it.”

  We all accepted a cup of reishi and a small roll of spinach and sharp goat cheese. My mushroom drink had a splash of maple syrup for sweetness, and it helped.

  “Sumbria requested it.” Bastian reminded us softly. He stored the now carefully folded quilt into his storage, freeing his hands just in time to accept a cup of hot reishi from the butler. “Your queen made it a requirement - Thank you, Malory.”

  Father cursed.

  I didn’t have a copy to reference, but if I recalled correctly only a Peldeep royal was specifically required for the contract – Technically any Sumbrian noble could fill our side of the bargain. It didn't have to be me.

  I didn’t offer up that piece of information though - the hot drakin knight was mine. We signed a contract. No take-backsies.

  There was a moment of surprise as Mr Sniffles wandered back over and promptly sat at my father’s feet. I worried about how the count would respond to capybara hair rubbing against his legs, but against all odds, Valin reached down and offered his own spinach roll to the capybara, moving to scratch Mr Sniffles behind the ears with his now free hand.

  Mr Sniffles approved, emitting his usual pleased rumblings.

  My father was not expecting the sound, and stopped abruptly, drawing back and clutching his cup with both hands. Mr Sniffles sniffed once, and then lay down on top of my father’s feet.

  “Father,” I said, trying to recover the conversation. “I know that this isn’t ideal, but it’s not forever. After a year I'll be able to visit home - quickly too, since there'll be more ships traveling to Sumbria.”

  Bastian let out an embarrassed, “ack” as the teacup handle in his hands snapped. The cup now separated from the handle entirely. He looked up with chagrin, “My apologies.”

  “Here,” Malory swooped in to take away the broken porcelain.

  “I hope you can control your strength before you think about marrying our Peregrine,” Count Valin declared, before turning on me with a hard stare, “And I don’t care how many ships pass between Sumbria and Peldeep - you won’t be on them. It’s just too dangerous to sail right now, and I don’t want you to risk it - didn’t you learn anything from Geoffrey’s death? Pirate Abra is dangerous and…”

  My father stopped short, a look of horror on his face as he covered his mouth with one hand. “I apologize, Sweetpea. I went too far."

  “I understand, father, it’s alright.” There was a strange sense of disjointedness in all of this. My usually stoic and cold hearted father was all over the place between treating me like I was a beloved five years old again or treating me like a rebellious youth suffering from a bad break up.

  Neither of which fit.

  “It’s most certainly not alright.” Count Valin stated. “Nothing about this situation is alright.”

  There was a mix of vulnerability in the anger, and I reached out and put a hand on my father’s arm.

  Bastian sighed and stood up staring between us, and lingering a bit on Mr Sniffles who was now napping on my father’s feet. “Count Valin, Peregrine has already signed the treaty. As have I. We are here because it would’ve been rude to whisk her away to Peldeep without speaking to her family, and a disservice to the countess,” he nodded at me. “I’m sure you have much to catch up on, so why don’t I have Malory show me to my proper accommodations? Malory?”

  Our butler was only happy to escort Bastian out and give father and I space.

  “Goodnight” Bastian bowed. I offered a thankful nod and a reassuring smile.

  “Goodnight, Knight Commander.” Father said, staring after Bastian’s retreating form with an unreadable look on his face.