Michel pulled back. He turned to take the girl’s hand. “Mother,” he said pointedly. “This is Eve. We will be married.” He paused to put one hand on the girl’s belly. “And it will need to happen soon.”
Laure’s eyes widened, suddenly realizing her son had more challenges on this journey than he was used to. She felt the warmth between Michel and his future bride, the rightness of their union. Then the girl's father, Borjigin, shouted something at Michel in their native language. Michel grimaced and pulled back. The girl looked down with a laugh.
Indeed, Laure thought, keeping her amusement to herself, Michel, her most patient, rule-abiding, stoic son, had gotten into some trouble on this adventure. Good for him.
Borjigin came forward to speak. “I thank you for welcoming us. Before we can be family, I must insist that my impulsive daughter is assigned a chaperone.”
“Father,” she said sharply. “We have just arrived. Allow us a moment to breathe.”
“No, Eve,” he said. “You are still unmarried and shall be treated as such.”
“Then mother can continue to stay with me,” she said. “Do not start making demands of our new family.”
“No,” he said. Now he spoke to Guillaume. “I have not had the enjoyment of my wife in a month because she has slept by Eve’s side.”
Guillaume smiled and nodded his head.
Laure jumped in. “I’m sure we can find her a suitable chaperone. We have a staff and any one of the girls?—”
“I want her,” Borjigin said, pointing past the group of people. “I saw her with her sword as we entered.”
Laure followed his hand and saw he was pointing at Alex, Philippe’s wife. Alex was leaning against her sword as she stood next to Philippe.
“Me?” she croaked.
“Wait a second—” said Philippe.
“Please come here, my lady,” Borjigin insisted.
Alex and Philippe exchanged a glance and she came forward. She stood before Borjigin.
“You are a woman who wields a sword?”
“Yes, I am,” said Alex, straightening up at being addressed.
“You are the sister-in-law of Michel?”
She glanced at Michel. “Yes.” She nodded. “I am.”
He turned to Michel. “Would you feel safe having this woman chaperone Eve?”
Michel gave a grin. “I would indeed.”
Borjigin turned back to Alex. “Then will you do my family the favor of guarding and protecting my daughter until she is wed?”
“I would be honored to do so,” she said, bowing her head to the man and casting a smile to her new sister-in-law.
“Then you have my gratitude,” he said, giving Alex a nod.
In an instant, movement came from every direction. There was much to do. The men would go behind closed doors to discuss legal arrangements. The women would have all the other arrangements to make. Laure would prepare her home. She would be planning a wedding. Alex would chaperone Eve. They would all be a family soon.
And then she was soon to be a grandmother!
No pauses, no more pleasantries. Michel followed his father and Borjigin to the study, where the Cardinal waited. They navigated introductions. Michel cared very little about the dealings at this point. Now that he was home, with the three men before him, it would be out of his hands. They would negotiate terms. Michel felt glad that he was able to bring the market home, that he could protect his family and city from an unfair tax and political unrest, though in the end, he had very little to do with it. Despite his planning, scheming, and reputation, it was Eve who had procured the deal, Borjigin who had accepted it, and Michel’s father who would maintain it. Michel would just inherit the benefits, like everything else.
They entered his father’s study and sat around the long wooden table where many missions had been planned. His father sat at his seat at the head, with Borjigin in his regal deel and golden features, to the right. Michel sat next to the Cardinal, an intense and very insistent man with a spindly mustache, dressed in fine silks. Aware that it was to appease this man that Michel had set out with such lofty goals in the first place, Michel was just too exhausted to be proud of bringing home such a fine offer for his country.
The negotiations went on and on. Michel answered specifics. He translated a few phrases that Borjigin did not understand. The orange book, the one Eve had kept meticulously updated—minus any crass drawings—passed between them multiple times.
