But when the party turned into the gate and he saw the older man, the older woman, and the girl walking between them, her eyes modestly downcast, he had to keep himself from gaping. She was gorgeous. Her eyes demurely down, she wore a tailored frock that hugged her every curve. A high round neckline above a full bust, and then long skirts which almost touched the floor. Just below the wide white belt around her waist, the skirts were slit all the way to the ground, allowing him a tantalising look. Bon’patit indeed!
“This is my son,” his father said, startling him, and Gaspard took a step and made his bow to her father.
“And this is your wife,” her father said, and the girl stepped forward, her eyes still modestly down, went down in a deep curtsey.
When she stood back up Gaspard took another step forward and held out his arm, which she took, sending a shock down his entire body.
“Thou art beautiful, my wife,” he said, using the intimate language and beginning the formal exchange. “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.”
“Thou art fair, my husband,” she said, “Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.”
The ritual exchange finished, Gaspard led her to the reception hall where the rest of his family waited along with the guests from his side of the party, at least the ones who had already arrived.
The first person to greet them was his oldest sister, as was her right according to the ritual. “Might I present my oldest sister?” Gaspard asked. The two lasses curtseyed to each other, both of them staring curiously at this new addition to their lives.
Gaspard felt his sister’s eyes on them as led his new wife through all of the introductions to his family, and then she led him through hers. She introduced her father last and, after their bows, her father said to him, “I must needs take my daughter away for a minute, I’m sure you understand.”
Gaspard didn’t, at all, and watched her lustily as she walked away. Then his youngest uncle sidled up to him and whispered into his ear, “Contract signing,” and he felt better. Of course she must needs do that.
“Ah,” he said, relieved. He hadn’t really wanted her to go away.
Gaspard’s father walked up to him. “Well, now that the formal introductions are finished, let us go into the dining room.”
Gaspard followed his father, his thoughts elsewhere, as did most of the crowd, through a curtained doorway and into their large, formal, dining room, a room which took up a good half of the ground floor. The mosaic on the walls here was particularly appropriate to clan events, as the four walls each artistically told the story of the Janleen clan.
“That is meant to be Captain Janleen?” Gaspard felt cousin Murdoch’s hand on his shoulder. “I haven’t gotten to see this wall before, I have only been here for smaller events where we were curtained off into the corner with the landing.”
“Yes,” Gaspard responded. “Captain Jonadab Janleen, founder of our clan, and the original thirty that came with him on the trip away from Earth to the first of the oh so many planets we have helped colonize.”
“And who all almost died on that trip. Several times. And who weren’t all actually related to him by blood, altho long years of clan interbreeding has solved that. And how many times did my mother or one of my cousines tell me that story when I was a littlie?”
“Well,” Murdoch grinned at him, “I was right about the girl your father picked, eh? She is bon’patit and ooo la la!”
Gaspard grinned back at his cousin, but then he saw the servants were making the rounds with drinks and, knowing what was coming, grabbed a mug of Mango soft. Cousin Murdoch took a glass of Mango bubbly and they all turned to the small stage at the front of the room.
“Up the clan!” Gaspard’s oldest uncle said, lifting his mug.
“Up the clan!!” the room shouted back at him and everyone took a drink.
Gaspard saw a particularly cute servette walking through the crowd passing out drinks, her professional smile fixed on her face. His father liked hiring good looking females to serve at his party, though they were more expensive then their male counterparts. He liked the view.
As he waited for the next toast he wondered idly what she and the other non-clan were thinking of this clan function. His father would have preferred to hire all clan as servants but there were actually very few clan low enough to take that kind of job. Even street class clan were-
“One for the army, start right here!” another uncle yelled, with a broad wink and leer, and the crowd yelled and repeated it. The toast was made a little more appropriate by the fact that everyone could see the army mark on the uncle’s chest. He was the only one of his uncles on either side that had gone into the army. Altho given that he had ended up high up in logistics he wasn’t exactly out of the family business.
“Accepted for the Navy,” another uncle said, “Moving upward!”
“With the clan!” the crowd yelled. And drank.
“Assigned to a front-line destroyer,” another uncle yelled, “Moving outward!”
“With the clan!” they yelled again.
Gaspard and the crowd lifted their glasses and yelled for five more toasts and then the servers began coming in with hors d’oerves and the crowd broke up into small cliques. Three of his smaller cousins stripped of their party clothes and started a wrestling circle in the corner. The orchestra, such as it was, began playing a rather bouncy rendition of the clan hymn. And a crowd began to gather around Gaspard.
Gaspard moved over to a standing table, the crowd moving with him, and grabbed some Canard de l’orange from another passing servette, and then a selection of hors d’oerves and prepared himself for a barrage of ever increasingly ribald comments and suggestions, some of them anatomically impossible, for his wedding night. At least the food was excellent, indeed this was the best duck he had ever had. Their chef had outdone himself. He had to restrain himself from getting too stuffed for dancing and for his first night with his wife.
Which reminded him, where was she? Was she back? By rights she should have been enduring this teasing with him.
He looked around but didn’t see her. His oldest sister was playing no part in the teasing but was deep in conversation with two of his wife’s female relatives. That was good, she was playing her part. His father would be pleased. And he knew it was a sacrifice for her. He had stood next to her during the newlywed teasing before and she had been quite inventive in her own suggestions.
Along the wall, he noted with discuss, was a row of mothers, nursing. His mind boggled at the thought that his delectable new wife would, within a few months, be seated with them, some babe hanging from her swollen breast.
The teasing having finally calmed down he took his mug and started walking around. He saw a couple he didn’t recognize turning from a refreshment table and the lad smiled and led his wife over to Gaspard
“Well met, cousin,” the lad said, and Gaspard realized that this must be one of his wife’s relatives, come a bit late.
“Well met indeed,” Gaspard responded, winking at the pretty lass holding his new cousins hand. “Is this your sister?”
“My wife, I’ll have you know,” the cousin said. He patted her on the abdomen, “Well along with my first” .
“One for the army,” Gaspard said, putting his own hand out, ostensibly to feel the bulge in the abdomen. “Congratulations, Cousine.”
“Thank you, Cousin,” she said. “And you have a lovely wife yourself, so congratulations to you as well.”
“Yes, she is,” Gaspard agreed, letting his hand linger. “Do you know her?”
“Well, yes,” she said. “We are cousines direct and I know her rather well.”
Her husband had wandered off to talk to some of the other men, but Gaspard was enjoying talking with his new cousine. His pretty new cousine.
“He does not keep you on a tight leash?” he asked her.
“Not at all,” she said. “Basic fertile contract. But that won’t do you much good for a few months, you will be bound to your own wife.”
“True, true,” he said. “Hopefully only a couple of months plus the waiting time. Can you tell me about my wife?”
“She will do you very well, I believe,” she said. “Her father and your father had long talks on the subject, and they were quite agreed that she was everything you were looking for. They even called her in at a couple of points, and that’s how I came to hear of it.”
“Were you her confidante?”
“Yes. Which is part of why I wanted to meet you. But I think we are risking the bounds of discretion, altho my husband did introduce us, so I will go and have a talk with your sister. Perhaps to be married soon, herself?”
“Hopefully. She is getting a bit hard for my mother to handle.”
“We do that,” the cousine said, and then leaned forward and kissed him. “Have fun.”
“God bless the womb,” he replied, kissing her back, and then he watched her walk over, indeed, to his sister. He would have to look her up later, when he had his own wife well along.
It was nearly an hour later when, in the middle of a conversation with a lieutenant who had served with his father, he suddenly realized…” Where is my wife? She has been gone the longest time.”
“Going over the contract, I assume,” the lieutenant said. He leaned over and whispered, “It must be taking her a long time to read.”
“Or else she is trying to present herself as serious,” Gaspard agreed. “Still, I wish she were here.”
“Well, you get your wish,” the lieutenant said, and Gaspard turned where he was looking to see his wife come in the room and make a bee line for Gaspard’s sister. The two lasses kissed and his sister immediately included her new sister in law in the group of lasses she was talking with, introducing her new sister in law to a dozen or so of her new cousines and the like.
“I think you will have to wait for her company,” the lieutenant quipped. “That lass talk looks like it will be taking a while.”
“Well, she is doing her job per the contract,” Gaspard admitted. “Forming relationships with my female relations. We will have our time together later, and I would not be very welcome in that group. Have you tried the BBQ Chrencha?”
Thank you for reading Von’s Substack. I would love it if you commented! I love hearing from readers, especially critical comments. I would love to start more letter exchanges, so if there’s a subject you’re interested in, get writing and tag me!
Being ‘restacked’ and mentioned in ‘notes’ is very important for lesser-known stacks so… feel free! I’m semi-retired and write as a ministry (and for fun) so you don’t need to feel guilty you aren’t paying for anything, but if you enjoy my writing (even if you dramatically disagree with it), then restack, please! Or mention me in one of your own posts.
If I don’t write you back it is almost certain that I didn’t see it, so please feel free to comment and link to your post. Or if you just think I would be interested in your post!
If you get lost, check out my ‘Table of Contents’ which I try to keep up to date.
Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,
Von