Page 45 of Warrior's Reign
“She’s still very young,” his mother said. “It would benefit her to marry within Yna Ipaluk ranks. A husband outside of them would only distract her.”
Dozian squinted at his bonded, then looked at Vykhan. “Is your mother matchmaking? Are youlettingyour mother match make?”
“I would prefer a bonded mate, may Haeemah bless me,” Vykhan answered carefully.
“Mates are not guaranteed us, son,” Aanyah said. “You can find just as much happiness with a compatible wife of your choosing. Settle down to a nightly bed and sire children to train. It’s time for another youngling to be born to our main line.”
Dozian grunted. “Bring Obe’shan home so I may meet her. I’ll speak with Benyon. What is the mother’s name?”
“Zoriah, I believe?” Aanyah said. “There was the usual gossip years ago when he brought her home.”
Vykhan sighed. He’d known he was risking his parents spiraling off into talks of arranged matches by bringing up the subject of Reign.
Aanyah smiled at him sympathetically. “But marriage isn’t what you came to discuss. You believe your Silence is fraying.”
Dozian gave him a keen look. “Because of the female.”
His father, not usually as perceptive as his mother, still was able to make these unerringly accurate assessments.
“Not because of her. My lack is not her fault.” For years now. He’d fled the academy because he was so close to breaking his vow of Silence. And more. And years later, though he’d thought he’d shored up his control, all she had to do was look at him and he knew himself to be a fool. He had no control.
“You were always so obsessed with perfect Silence,” his father muttered. “It was charming when you were younger. Vykhan. . .the right femaleshouldfracture your Silence.”
Aanyah glanced at Dozian and smiled. “You reweave the strands together over time. I wonder if it’s too soon to invite Benyon and Zoriah to dinner?”
“She’ll want to see the armory and gardens first,” Dozian said. “Females always do. And he has yet to formally request a courtship. We must adhere to the traditions.”
“Things are more relaxed in the city,” Aanyah said pragmatically. “It’s not like when we were young. Allowances can be made. But we should insist on family dinner at least.” She began to rise. “I don’t think we’ve inspected the armory yet this quarter. I won’t be embarrassed.”
Vykhan nearly grit his teeth. His parents, predictably, were not taking this as seriously as he would have wished, but then he hadn’t shared with them the depth of his depravity during his dark time.
“Mother.”
She glanced at him, then settled back down. “Oh, yes. Your Silence. Son. . .I know it seems all encompassing, but—”
“It’s not a big deal,” Dozian said. By now he was lounging on his side, having abandoned Aanyah’s insistence on etiquette. “Everyone cracks once a century. You just deal with it and move on.”
Vykhan stared at his parents. One would wish they would take the matter more seriously. He was certain they had not yet decided into senility. That was rare on Yedahn, and they were not even twenty decades old yet.
Aanyah gave him a vulpine smile. “I think our son wanted wailing and gnashing of teeth and admonitions to seek mediation.”
Dozian coughed something into his tea cup that sounded suspiciously raunchy. Vykhan ignored him.
“If you’re feeling restless, you simply need something else besides work to fill your time,” Mother said. “Males require gentle pursuits to achieve balance. Not solely the pursuit of advanced training—that is honorable, and certainly worthy of your time, but it is still work.”
Dozian shook his head. “That isn’t going to work, not if this is the female he wants. We’ve spoken marriage and children and he didn’t blink once.”
They pinned him with twin predatory looks.
Vykhan realized, chagrined, that they had been testing him and as distracted as he was, he’d all but shouted the seriousness of his feelings. They were correct. He had not once demurred at the mention of presenting himself to Reign as a husband. . .though he knew the tie would be much stronger. He could not reveal that yet, however. Not on the chance that she might say no.
“Like you said,” Vykhan said quietly, “she is very young. You say a husband worthy of her name would benefit her, but I fear someone of my nature would simply distract her from finding her path. I am not an easy male.”
“Is she so weak, then?” Aanyah asked.
“She’s an Obe’shan,” his father said. “Trust her a little,adoan.”
Vykhan rose, resigned. “Very well. I will consider your counsel.”
