Once dressed in a colorful ensemble with a star-embroidered cape (that Rhiannon thought for sure must have been a joke), Taliesin consulted the sky. The sun still sat well above the horizon, but it wouldn’t stay there forever. “It’ll still be a bit of a walk. Want me to fly us the rest of the way?”
“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you,” Rhiannon said, shaking her head. “You’ve done more than enough.” She too checked the sun’s position and estimated just how far the city in the distance stood from them. “We should have plenty of daylight to get there. Unless you need to rest?”
Taliesin stretched one leg, then the other. Limbered up, he hefted the trunk just enough to somehow stuff it into the much smaller satchel he had retrieved from it. The new item weighed nothing for him to sling across his back between his wings. “I’ll manage. Let me know if you need a break.”
Stars twinkled to life above their heads just as the first buildings boxed them in. Much like their first visit, plenty of friendly faces peeked out of shuttered businesses and windows to give their greetings and congratulations on his recent engagement. Taliesin accepted each with grace and the appropriate amount of appreciation.
“They must have heard from my mother,” he sighed, leading Rhiannon down one side street to avoid a crowd meandering in the square. “Sometimes I wonder where she finds the time.”
Rhiannon giggled. “I get the feeling that news travels fast among the witch community.”
He grinned. “You’ve got that right. The only thing that travels faster than good news is the news you don’t want anyone knowing about. I’m willing to bet that the results of my disastrous potion making broke land-speed records.”
Rhiannon waved back to the resident of an upper window. “Why? What happened?”
“My scales turned purple for a week.” He cringed at the memory. “I refused to leave my room until they went back to normal, but word still somehow got out. Mother swore it wasn’t her doing.”
“Maybe it was Tabitha?” She was the Seeing Witch, after all.
He rolled his eyes. “Not that she would ever fess up.”
A magic carpet slowed and descended. “Taliesin! Long time no see,” called the tanned man riding it with a grin. “Check out my new ride. Fancy, ain’t it?”
“Always is,” Taliesin replied. “Mind if we hop on?”
“Heh, not showing off for your bride now that you’ve got her?” He leaned forward and in a stage whisper said, “That’s why Calli dumped me, you know. He got fed up with me not doing my job.”
Taliesin didn’t look bothered. “I flew the whole way here. Asking for help now hardly counts as not doing my job.”
“You flew?” He shook his head, impressed. “Yeesh. You really were showing off there. Here, climb on.” With his help, they reached their final destination in no time at all. Waving their farewells, they headed inside.
Crackers popped and streamers shot every which way, littering their hair with colorful confetti. Three people grinned at them, two humans and a scaly humanoid, spent party toys still held aloft. Gertrude tossed her cracker aside and threw her arms around her son and future daughter-in-law. “It’s so good to see you!” she cried. “You two seem to be doing well.” The witch even had the audacity to waggle her eyebrows.
“We are doing well, thanks.” Taliesin didn’t bat an eye. Rather, he was far too busy staring at the being covered head to toe with gem-like blue scales. “Um, father, might I ask what you’re doing here? I thought you hated glamouring.” The dragon had once described it as trying to stuff oneself into a mole’s tunnel, a feeling Taliesin had grown to understand when he cast one himself.
Spinel put two heavy, taloned hands on Gertrude’s shoulders, drawing her away from the still stunned Rhiannon. “Your mother insisted I be here. Something about witch tradition requiring the parents to be present on occasions like these.”
Confused, Rhiannon glanced at the very human Arthur. In no way did the witch’s apprentice resemble Gertrude or Taliesin, unless it was the most impressive glamour ever created. “For Arthur’s Naming Ceremony?”
Nonplussed, Spinel whispered in Gertrude’s ear, “What did you tell them exactly?”
Gertrude smiled innocently, which did not bode well in the least. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Anyone who had known her more than five minutes knew Gertrude rarely prepared the best surprises. Anticipating a need for punishment, Spinel nipped his mate’s ear. The intimate gesture might have made Rhiannon hurriedly turn away if not for the yelp and swat to the dragon’s chest from Gertrude. Dragons, she reminded herself from the book she’d studied up with, often nipped to chastise family. That didn’t stop the blush from blossoming on her cheeks, however.
While his parents were busy inadvertently embarrassing Rhiannon, Taliesin looked to Arthur for explanation. “What was she planning?”
“A knot-tying,” Arthur said, adding almost apologetically, “I tried to tell her not to, but you know how Lady Gertrude gets when an idea pops into her head.”
Rhiannon welcomed the distraction from the pair lovingly bickering. “What’s a knot-tying?”
“It’s a witch’s ceremony, kind of like a marriage,” explained Arthur. “It’s a lot more informal than most weddings, but it serves the same purpose. Two lovers tie themselves together with a rope, binding their futures to one another’s. There’s no magic to it,” he added, “and it’s not like some registry has all the knotted couples listed somewhere. It’s a vow between witches. Oh, but I guess the Council would have a record of it, since it’s a promise and all that, but it’s not as legally binding as in your kingdom. If that makes sense.”
“Don’t you think you guys are rushing things a bit?” Taliesin asked flatly.
“Nothing’s rushed when it comes to true love,” tittered Gertrude. “I did well, picking her for you. My foresight rivals Tabitha, I tell you!”
Rolling his eyes, “Careful, your ego’s showing.”
Spinel snorted, and licks of flames spat from his nose. “Now, now, your mother still has a point. You’ve found your mate. I might not understand the need for this knot-tying, but humans like this sort of thing.”
It might not be true of all humans, but Rhiannon certainly counted herself among those that did. Tempting though it was, she couldn’t agree to it. Not yet. “If it’s all the same,” she said quietly, “I would prefer we wait as well.”
Taliesin didn’t seem bothered or surprised. “Of course. I’m sorry they’re trying to rush you into—”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. Like Lord Spinel said before, parents ought to be present for this sort of thing.” Hers included. “After the Naming...could we go visit mine? I want to explain everything properly to them. I’m sure they won’t like my marrying a warlock or a bard”—she couldn’t help giggling—“but it’s certainly better than the dragon they thought was going to eat me.”
Confused, Spinel said, “Dragons don’t eat people. Wyverns might, but dragons—”
“We know that,” Gertrude said, batting lightly at his chest, “but parents get weird ideas in their heads when witches ask that their only daughter marry someone they’ve never met.”
“I wonder why,” Taliesin said, the sarcasm more affectionate than mocking. Turning to Rhiannon, he assured her, “After the Naming Ceremony’s over, I’ll take you back to the capital. I ought to meet my future in-laws, even if they have low opinions of bards and warlocks.”
“Look on the bright side,” Rhiannon said with a smile, “if they’re embarrassed enough, they won’t want a flashy royal wedding. Maybe a knot-tying will be enough.”
“We can only hope,” he agreed, grinning at the imagined mixture of relief and horror on the king and queen’s faces. If reality were even half as good, it would be so satisfying.