Page 22 of A Match Made in Slumber

PARTIES PRESENT:

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY (HACB) — Legal Official Conducting the Audit on behalf of the High Council.

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS (MR) —Formerly Malvelian Fountenblym, also goes by Elian, Magical Alchemist, Summoner.

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS (KR) —Formerly the Highest Vanguard of the Realm in the Elven Country, Summoned.

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB taps a silver stylus against his chin as he reviews the leatherbound validation ledger.] Very well, commander. Elian. Let us begin the formal evaluation. To ensure this sudden union is born of true harmony and that you are currently lawfully cohabiting in a singular, authentic household, I must ask you some routine validation questions under Section Twelve of the Marital Authenticity Code. Let us start with an elementary baseline. Commander, what are your husband's likes?

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR sits rigid in his chair, his spine straight, answering with zero hesitation.] My husband likes glass wind chimes. He also hoards other whimsical knick-knacks that seem to serve no logical purpose. He collects festive favours. He enjoys the company of his friends. And he drinks obscenely sweet snow-cone tea with cinnamon jizz.

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR leans sideways, whispering through the side of his mouth.] Swizzle. Cinnamon swizzle.

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR nods once.] Precisely. That.

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB frowns deeply, making a sharp, aggressive scratch with his stylus upon the parchment.] Elian, do not provide unauthorised hints to your husband or I shall deduct points from your final authenticity score. Let us reverse the query. Elian, what does the commander like?

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR clears his throat, his fingers drum a frantic, irregular rhythm against his knees.] He-he likes, um, his sabre. It was an inheritance from his grandfather. He fences with it, obviously, and very deftly too. Back in his realm, my… spouse used to collect tactical maps and manuals. He enjoys magical strategy board games—and currently plays a completely incomprehensible one with Settie. He likes drinking mead with Fern. [MR chews anxiously on his lower lip, squinting at the ledger.] Oh, he’s quite fond of roast meat. He can consume several helpings during one sitting. Truly, I’ve never seen any single elvish male able to eat so much tarragon veal—

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: Mmhmm. Try not to drift off topic, Elian. Let us attempt a query from the Domestic Cohabitation section next. Commander, if your spouse is engaged in constructing an unstable, volatile compound in his workshop and, as a result, the house catches fire, which household item does he rescue first?

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR scowls in thought.] He would rescue the misshapen ceramic mug Fern made for him in school when they were children. He would ignore the silver coins, the legal deed to his stall and cottage and the emergency rations, even if he had any.

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR sulks a little.] I do have rations for emergencies. There are three entire bottles of snowy cone syrup stored in the larder. And I’ve hidden a box of lavender sherbets in the bedroom.

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB stares back and forth between KR and MR] Fascinating. Let us move to the Psychological Affiliation index. If your spouse were transformed into flora by a rogue transmuter, which species would he be?

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR blinks, his expression shifting to bewilderment.] What? I'm awfully sorry, Cholerius, but what kind of bollocks—I mean, what kind of question is this? Is that really written on your official form? [MR tries to lean across the cherrywood table to peek at the High Arbiter’s private documentation.]

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB pulls his ledger back with a startled look, shielding the document with his sleeve.] Do not compromise the confidentiality of the protocol, Elian, or there will be trouble.

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR places his palm on top of MR’s hand.] Elian, let the High Arbiter ask his questions. Duty is duty. Besides, we have nothing to hide. We can answer whatever the municipal authorities require to know. [KR pauses, his sharp eyes softening as he gazes at MR.] I was once told Elian resembles a mountain orchid, but I disagree. I reckon he would be a black lotus. They grow exclusively on the Royal Lake in Asirhwÿn.

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB stops tapping his stylus, looks at KR with curiosity.] And why the black lotus, commander?

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR keeps his eyes fixed on MR, his voice quiet but steady.] On the surface, it appears soft, weightless and elegant. It merely floats on the water, carefree, showing off its beautiful petals. But in fact, the lotus grows from thick, heavy mud in stagnant water, pushing through darkness to reach the light. It’s resilient—a survival expert. Black lotus possesses a unique self-cleaning mechanism, so no matter what, it cannot be sullied or corrupted by its environment.

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR sniffles, his eyes welling up as he wipes his face with his sleeve.]

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB looks uncomfortable, reaching into his pocket.] Why are you crying, Elian? Oh, for the goddess’ sake, have a handkerchief. Here. Control your humours a little, would you? Now, turnabout is fair play. Elian, let us hear your assessment. If the commander were transformed into a plant, what would he be?

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR takes the handkerchief, his eyes red and glassy as he looks over at KR.] He would be an Everend Pine. It thrives in… harsh, unforgiving terrains. Its bark grows thick and hard, like an armour against freezing gales. It doesn’t shed its needles to start fresh in spring; it carries every single winter scar into the next year. Its purpose is simply to stand tall, creating a dense canopy to protect the smaller growth beneath it from the elements. [MR swallows hard, his voice shaking slightly.] It’s like… the ultimate shield.

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR remains still, though his jaw tightens. He reaches across the small space and pats MR’s forearm gently.]

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB clears his throat, making a long, thorough note in the index.] Moving on to the Security and Fidelity Index. Commander, what would you do if another suitor attempted to actively pursue your husband?

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR’s expression darkens. He emits a dangerous, cold aura and he cracks his knuckles.]

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR waves his hands frantically, his voice rising a hysterical octave.] Another suitor? Cholerius, these questions are hardly appropriate. Are you sure this is standard protocol? Who on earth would want to pursue me?

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [KR looks over at MR, scratching his chin thoughtfully.] Well, many would, I'm sure. Just the other day at the stall, I believe I identified a potential hazard. A noble with bright ginger hair, wearing ridiculous clothes, spent half an hour staring directly into your eyes whilst you explained the mechanism of a smart-lock talisman. He didn’t buy a single item.

HIGH ARBITER CHOLERIUS BROXYY: [HACB freezes mid-note, signs of unusual animation flashing across his face.] Red-haired, you say? Finely tailored silks? That must be Viscount Protegus Knibin. That absolute rascal. [HACB leans forwards over his desk, his eyes narrowing.] I am highly aware of this specific problem. He is notorious for unsolicited flirting, lingering near respectable market stalls and pestering upright citizens—including Herbalist Fern, for instance. [HACB drops his voice, peering intensely at KR.] Say, commander... if Protegus approached your husband again, what exactly would you do? Would you resort to violence, or—?

KEǍLHEM REÑYÉS: [A small muscle twitches in KR’s cheek.] Affirmative. Damn right, I would resort to violence. I would contain the threat by sticking my boot so deep up his—

MALVELIAN REÑYÉS: [MR stomps down hard on KR’s foot underneath the table, letting out a high-pitched laugh.] Grand, grand. Excellent! I think Cholerius gets the gist. You see, Cholerius, Keălhem isn’t violent at all, he’s just being incredibly protective, aren’t you... err... pumpkin?