“I don’t feel like celebrating the end of the war, but our family can use a little happiness or at least an opportunity to take our minds off the grieving. Let’s spend the rest of the day with our family. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.” Orion said.
“Maybe even for a bit longer.” Jirni nodded.
With Thrud dead, Jirni’s rage was gone. Without her rage, she was empty, ready to be filled with more pain from Phloria’s absence. Jirni still had lots of plans and schemes, but no will to enact a single step of any of them.
***
Ernas Mansion, Quylla’s room, later that afternoon.
The lunch had been an utter failure. No one felt like rejoicing for the end of the war and no one was in the mood to chat. The long silence and brooding faces made the Dining Room look like a funeral vigil.
Lucky sat at Orion’s feet the whole time, eating only the food coming from his hand.
“Thanks for dragging me away. I was about to burst into tears again.” Quylla said to Morok who had gotten them out with an excuse.
“Yeah, the mood was really heavy. Any longer and it would have crushed me.” The Tyrant sighed in relief, plunging onto one of the comfortable padded chairs of her living room.
Quylla followed suit and several minutes had to pass before either of them spoke again.
“This doesn’t feel real. The War of the Griffon lasted for so long and now it’s over. I lived with Phloria for years and now she’s gone. Everything happened so suddenly that it all seems like a sick joke!” Quylla said.
“That’s life.” Morok shrugged. “Stuff just happens without any notice. We can only hope to receive a gift from a friend instead of a kick in the nuts.”
“I could really use a gift right now.” Quylla turned to look at the mausoleum through the window of her living quarters. “I’m tired of kicks in the nuts and I don’t even have gonads.”
“About that…” Morok produced a thud that snapped her out of it.
He was now kneeling in front of her, holding with two hands the deep violet robe of a Magus.
“Now that the war is over and Thrud is dead, you can make this decision without revenge clouding your judgment. I would love to wait until you have overcome your grief, but in my experience, pain doesn’t come with an expiration date.”
The robe was tied in the middle with a common string forming a complex knot that was impossible to unravel. The knot of betrothal gifts.
“Quylla Nimea Daphne Ernas, would you marry me?” Morok followed tradition to the letter, using her middle names in the proper order.
“Wait what?” She froze on her chair without knowing what to say.
“I said, Quylla Nimea Daphne Ernas, would you marry me?” Morok replied. “Also, I really want to have children so if you are not with me on this, you’d better tell me now and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“A marriage proposal with a side of blackmail?” She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Threatening to dump me right after my sister’s funeral?”
“Well, yes but actually no. I mean to cheer you up and let you know how much you mean to me.” Morok shook his head. “Yet even if you are stronger than me, smarter than me, and richer than me, I’m not going to be your doormat.
“I have dreams that I will follow and goals that I want to achieve. I don’t want to hinder your career but I won’t allow it to mess with my life either. If we can’t make each other happy, we deserve to find someone who will.”
“Gods, you are so wise and yet so rude.” Quylla’s frown disappeared, replaced by a peal of silvery laughter. “Pray tell, smart-ass, what does that thing mean? Only the Royals can make someone a Magus.
“Without their approval, it’s just a violet robe. Also, how am I supposed to wear it with that knot? If I cut it after accepting your gift, we’d be the first couple on Mogar to have divorced before the marriage ceremony.”
“This robe symbolizes my wish for you to achieve your dreams and my will to support you in whatever endeavor you’ll undertake. As for the knot…” The soft fabric of the robe needed but a gentle pull to come out of the long piece of string.
“Gods, you act so dumb yet you are actually smart and thoughtful. That’s the reason I love you.” Quylla said.
“Yeah, I-” Morok froze and his jaw fell to the floor.
He stared at her for a while, showing no intention to pick it up any sooner.
Quylla wore the violet robe and put the knot on her wrist like it was a bracelet.
“I love you, Morok Eari, and marrying you will make me the happiest woman on Mogar so yes. Yes, I will marry you.” She said amid sniffles and with eyes veiled with tears.
“This is the moment when you stand up, tell me that you love me too, and then we kiss, jackass!” She said after he remained frozen in the same position. “This is not funny, you idiot! You’re ruining this for- Are his pupils really dilated?”
Quylla tried moving around, but Morok’s eyes didn’t follow her. She put two fingers on his neck, checking his pulse and casting a diagnostic spell.
“I can’t believe it! This idiot really fainted with his eyes wide open.” She burst into laughter, taking an empty Rememberer from her desk. “I need to record this, or no one will ever believe me.”
She made the device start recording and then she gently pushed Morok, making him fall on the floor with his eyes and mouth still wide open.
“Mom! Dad! Guys! You have to see this!” Once Quylla was sure to have collected every piece of evidence she would later need to prove the story of her marriage proposal, she opened the door and yelled at the top of her lungs.
The entire Ernas family came in a rush, armed to their teeth and spells ready to fly.
When they saw Morok unconscious on the floor, they looked around the room for an assailant. Only then did they notice Quylla wearing a violet robe and laughing her ass off to the point of crying.
Once they managed to make her share what had happened with a mind link, they cried as well, their joy no less than hers.
***
Ernas Mansion, Friya’s room, later that evening.
“On the bright side, we got to witness Morok’s reaction when he finally realized that Quylla had said yes. On the even brighter side, his sprawled body on the floor was hilarious.” Friya said.
“We needed a good laugh. Ever since Phloria died, no one could so much as smile. The end of the War of the Griffons is supposed to be good news, but it actually feels empty. Quylla’s marriage, instead, feels like one real good news.”
“Yeah, about that…” Nalrond scratched his head in embarrassment.
“Don’t tell me that you want to propose to me?” She said in surprise.
