Page 32 of These Violent Delights

As he reached the top, Ozzy swung himself over the edge and landed on the balcony, his feet hitting the ground with a soft thud.He straightened up, breathing heavily, his eyes scanning for any threat.

Yarbo had to take the stairs, so he was a beat behind, but it was clear Zelda was happy to see Ozzy.

Yarbo’s eyes narrowed, and he snorted like a bull, but in the end, he walked away.Ozzy had won that round.

***

NEITHER OF THEM SAIDanything, but every time Ozzy looked at her, his eyes lightened.He looked expectant.

Finally, she came to a decision.It was a little scary, but it felt right.

Later that day, as she walked along the castle walls, she told him, “You made a good point.”She didn’t specify that she meant that incredible kiss.He knew.

“Oh?Does that mean you’re thinking of negotiations?”he asked lightly.

“Perhaps.”Yes, but she chose to match his flirting tone.

“I look forward to discussing them,” he said, his voice husky.

“This is negotiations only,” she cautioned him.“Courtship.”

“I understand,” he said, his voice deep.He kissed her hand.“I'm excellent at negotiations.”

She and Uncle Tank were invited to his camp for dinner the next night.A tent was set up at the mouth of the cave, and Ozzy's mother, sister Serta, and grandmother Jun were there.They sat on rugs around the campfire, lamps hanging from the tent supports, enjoying skewers of meat and tribal delicacies.

There were a number of serious questions asked.

“Would you expect Ozzy to live in the castle?”Ozzy's grandmother Jun asked.“Traditionally, the chieftain lives with his tribe.”

Zelda glanced at Ozzy, taking her time to reply.

“I will live in the castle,” Ozzy said firmly.“Zelda needs to be there, and the castle will not negotiate.”

Grandma Jun grunted but didn't argue.

“You'll have to work out who's in charge of what,” Serta observed, ripping a chunk of meat off a bone.“Assuming you plan to rule jointly.”

Zelda blew out a breath.That could be tricky.It was true they couldn't be debating these things in front of their people.And sometimes, decisive action would have to be made.Ozzy was used to being in charge.Someone had to have the final say.

“These things take time,” Grandma Jun observed.“It helps if you agree on most things.You will need to talk a good deal to see how you feel about important issues.”

“It might be a moot point,” Serta said.“Babies; if you choose to raise them instead of pawning them off on the servants, you won't have a lot of time for political squabbles.”

“That was a trade up,” Grandma Jun muttered.“Politics, ugh!I would rather change a diaper than listen to men squabble over water rights.”

Everyone laughed, but Zelda realized she had a point.“I admit, that sounds pretty boring.Important, but boring.”

Ozzy nodded.“We dealt with that just last summer.It took two days, three kegs of beer and a complicated trade agreement.”

Zelda made a face.“Trade agreements are fine.I enjoy those.”She could accomplish those without drinking excessive amounts of beer, too.

“You’re excellent at those,” Ozzy observed.“We probably would have gotten a better deal if you'd been there.”

“How do you feel about road repair and being in charge of armies?”

Zelda gave a long-suffering sigh.This had gone on long enough.“If you want to handle those, be my guest.Now if you don't mind, can we stop talking business before I decide that marrying you would be far too much work?”

The rest of the night passed pleasantly as she got to know more about Ozzy's family.His mother, sister Serta, and grandmother Jun shared stories and laughter around the campfire, the warm glow of the lamps casting a cozy light over them.The rich aroma of skewers of meat and other tribal delicacies filled the air, making the evening even more enjoyable.

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