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Authors: Steve Miller, Sharon Lee
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looked to her lifemate, sitting modest at her side. “Must I not, Ren Zel?”
“Surely that is for Master pen’Chala to decide?”
“Is it?” She frowned slightly, as if considering the proper protocol. “Well, perhaps it is, at that. But I may hope that he will decide in my favor, may I not?”
“Indeed; as I will also hope, on my own behalf. I think, though, that he must come to know us a little better.”
He looked to Rys, brown eyes betraying mischief.
“I am new-come to the clan, as well,” he said. “There is a learning curve.”
Rys smiled, warmed.
“I see that there might be. For myself, I am well-situated with my brothers and sisters of the kompani , and do not foresee coming into Korval. However, it is my…belief—newfound—that one cannot have too many brothers.”
“So I believe, as well,” Ren Zel answered; his smile gentle. “Already, we find common ground.”
Beside him, he heard his brother’s lifemate chuckle.
“Ren Zel can charm the portrait off a cantra piece,” she said, and used her chin to point at what was left of his plate of savories.
“Dessert’s coming. You want fruit, or a sweet?”
* * *
“I believe we have accomplished wonders,” Luken said.
He waved his assistants toward the back wall, and himself walked to the center of the showroom. There, he slowly turned on his heel, surveying the display walls, with small rugs hung in a flow of texture and tone; the bright carpets scattered across the gold-toned wooden decking, like autumn leaves scattered on the forest floor; the sample book set discreetly upon a creamy ceramic pedestal—there was nothing so crass as a sales counter in Luken’s showroom—at the carpets hung on wooden rods, and the small refreshment table against the back wall; and lastly at Villy and Quin.
He smiled.
“We have, indeed, accomplished wonders,” he stated. “Never has a man had two such willing and able helpers. I had hoped that we might achieve enough today that the shop might open in two or three days. With your help, we may open tomorrow.”
“Who will tend the shop, Grandfather?” Quin asked, coming forward himself and glancing about. It looked good, he thought. It wasn’t, of course, the equal of Grandfather’s former shop in the Solcintra High Port, but then, Surebleak was hardly Solcintra.
“Do you know, I had intended Kensi al’Findosh—you recall her, boy-dear; she had assisted in the old shop for the last few years—I had intended that she should manage the port annex. It still seems a good notion to me—she is entirely knowledgeable, personable, and shrewd. Sadly, she had been detained by the necessity to show her delm that this proposed move of hers to an outworld will profit the clan. I have had a letter from her recently which indicates that she has been successful in that project, and will be joining us here as quickly as might be. I suppose, therefore, that I shall tend the annex until she arrives.”
Quin frowned slightly.
“That would mean slowing the work at the primary location,” he said. “If I promise not to make an entire muddle of the business, I might stand in until Merchant al’Findosh arrives.”
“Why, what a generous offer, Quin-dear!” Luken smiled. “I have no concern regarding muddles . Certainly, between your Father and I, you’ve received a thorough education in rugs.”
“I am no match for you,” Quin said, holding his hands up, palm out, and laughing slightly. “I hope you will keep yourself available, should I need to call the shop’s expert.”
“Gotta charge extra when you call in the expert,” Villy observed, drifting into the center of the room. “Mr. Luken, this is everything that’s grand.”
“And it could not have been achieved without your assistance,” Luken told him warmly. “I am very pleased.”
He turned about once more, slowly, and came to rest with a sigh.
“Excellent. Come, let us make ourselves presentable. I believe that such an
“Surely that is for Master pen’Chala to decide?”
“Is it?” She frowned slightly, as if considering the proper protocol. “Well, perhaps it is, at that. But I may hope that he will decide in my favor, may I not?”
“Indeed; as I will also hope, on my own behalf. I think, though, that he must come to know us a little better.”
He looked to Rys, brown eyes betraying mischief.
“I am new-come to the clan, as well,” he said. “There is a learning curve.”
Rys smiled, warmed.
“I see that there might be. For myself, I am well-situated with my brothers and sisters of the kompani , and do not foresee coming into Korval. However, it is my…belief—newfound—that one cannot have too many brothers.”
“So I believe, as well,” Ren Zel answered; his smile gentle. “Already, we find common ground.”
Beside him, he heard his brother’s lifemate chuckle.
“Ren Zel can charm the portrait off a cantra piece,” she said, and used her chin to point at what was left of his plate of savories.
“Dessert’s coming. You want fruit, or a sweet?”
* * *
“I believe we have accomplished wonders,” Luken said.
He waved his assistants toward the back wall, and himself walked to the center of the showroom. There, he slowly turned on his heel, surveying the display walls, with small rugs hung in a flow of texture and tone; the bright carpets scattered across the gold-toned wooden decking, like autumn leaves scattered on the forest floor; the sample book set discreetly upon a creamy ceramic pedestal—there was nothing so crass as a sales counter in Luken’s showroom—at the carpets hung on wooden rods, and the small refreshment table against the back wall; and lastly at Villy and Quin.
He smiled.
“We have, indeed, accomplished wonders,” he stated. “Never has a man had two such willing and able helpers. I had hoped that we might achieve enough today that the shop might open in two or three days. With your help, we may open tomorrow.”
“Who will tend the shop, Grandfather?” Quin asked, coming forward himself and glancing about. It looked good, he thought. It wasn’t, of course, the equal of Grandfather’s former shop in the Solcintra High Port, but then, Surebleak was hardly Solcintra.
“Do you know, I had intended Kensi al’Findosh—you recall her, boy-dear; she had assisted in the old shop for the last few years—I had intended that she should manage the port annex. It still seems a good notion to me—she is entirely knowledgeable, personable, and shrewd. Sadly, she had been detained by the necessity to show her delm that this proposed move of hers to an outworld will profit the clan. I have had a letter from her recently which indicates that she has been successful in that project, and will be joining us here as quickly as might be. I suppose, therefore, that I shall tend the annex until she arrives.”
Quin frowned slightly.
“That would mean slowing the work at the primary location,” he said. “If I promise not to make an entire muddle of the business, I might stand in until Merchant al’Findosh arrives.”
“Why, what a generous offer, Quin-dear!” Luken smiled. “I have no concern regarding muddles . Certainly, between your Father and I, you’ve received a thorough education in rugs.”
“I am no match for you,” Quin said, holding his hands up, palm out, and laughing slightly. “I hope you will keep yourself available, should I need to call the shop’s expert.”
“Gotta charge extra when you call in the expert,” Villy observed, drifting into the center of the room. “Mr. Luken, this is everything that’s grand.”
“And it could not have been achieved without your assistance,” Luken told him warmly. “I am very pleased.”
He turned about once more, slowly, and came to rest with a sigh.
“Excellent. Come, let us make ourselves presentable. I believe that such an
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