It was like staring at an alternate version of himself. The dark Arris could waste time with abandon. The dark Arris could love at no risk to his life.
The dark Arris got to grow old.
Arris shrugged on the sable-colored jacket as if it were a talisman. He adjusted the silver buttons as if they were stars spelling a fate within his control. He thought about a cape, but decided against it. And with that, he went out into the cold.
It was far too early to meet Demelza, but Arris couldn’t stand another moment in the Castle, so he went in the direction of the Grove of Ancestors. As the second trial was almost underway, the weather of Rathe Castle had begun to change. The winter frost that sleeved the branches had thawed. The shy heads of crocuses and daffodils poked up from the icy dirt.
Deep in the Grove of Ancestors, Arris greeted Argento, his grandfather tree. The rest of his family was still dormant,but Argento was humming, his roots rippling. In his boughs, a family of squirrels had made their home. Argento laughed as a squirrel kit that was mostly tuft and tail scuttled up his trunk.
“When did they arrive?” asked Arris.
“With the frost,” said Argento, with uncharacteristic softness.
“I thought you said you refused to be a ‘hovel for vermin,’” said Arris.
Hypocrite, thought Arris, charmed as his grandfather gently lifted his bough to one of the squirrel kits. The kit appeared to be exploring outside its nest for the first time and it tumbled happily into Argento’s grasp. It trusted him completely.
“I imagine this is what it must be like to hold a child,” said Argento. “Never had the chance to do that with Eustis, you know. By the time he could sleep in my branches, he was eight! None of that newborn scrunching business that I had heard spoken of so fondly.”
Arris watched his grandfather’s boughs gently swishing, alternating like cupped hands to form a staircase for a pair of cautious squirrel kits.
“Do you regret it?” asked Arris.
“Regret is a dangerous path to walk down and fortunately I have been stripped of my legs. Roots cannot drink from regrets.”
“I see,” said Arris.
“How is your exercise in procrastination faring?”
“You mean the tournament for my hand in marriage?”
Argento huffed.
“It has been… illuminating,” said Arris.
“Eh? Is that so? Kissed any of them yet?”
“Many,” said Arris.
“Anyone beautiful?”
Immediately, Arris thought of Edmea’s blue eyes and Zoraya’s silken hair, Orinthia’s dimple and Talvi’s slender silhouette. He grinned.
“Lots,” said Arris.
“Anyone funny?”
He had exchanged charming witticisms with Heka. Flykra did a hilarious impersonation of a snow ferret that made him chuckle. Demelza… well, Demelza didn’t count, but he often laughed in her presence.
“A few,” he said.
“Anyone you trust?”
The question took Arris aback. The only person he really trusted was Demelza. When he was around her, he never looked over his shoulder. With Demelza, he gave no thought to the dangers of his future because he was too busy reveling in the delights of his present. Odd how he had only just realized that. None of that mattered though. Demelza didn’t count.
He started to explain that much to his grandfather: “She—”
“Marry that one,” said Argento.
