“Especially as it's much too late to do anything else!” Davad replied while Ronica was still composing a response. He stepped forward to set his hand on top of Jani's and Ronica's clasp. “Welcome to the Vestrit home. I'm Davad Restart, a long-time friend of the family. We are so thrilled to have you here, and deeply honored by Reyn's courtship of our Malta. Don't they look charming together!”

His words were so different from anything that Ronica would have chosen to say that she nearly lost control of herself. Jani's eyes went from Davad's face to Ronica's before she gently but unmistakably removed her hands from his clasp. “I recall you well, Trader Restart.” The tone of her voice was chill; evidently, her recollection of him was not a kindly one. The subtlety was lost on Davad.

“I am so pleased and honored that you do,” he exclaimed jovially. He beamed a smile at Jani Khuprus. He obviously believed that things were going well.

Ronica knew she had to say something, but for the life of her, she could not find any significant words. She retreated into banality. “Such lovely flowers. Only the Rain Wild yields such extravagant colors and fragrances.”

Jani shifted her body, very slightly, but it was enough that she now faced Ronica while her shoulder was toward Davad, excluding him. “I am so glad you like them. I had feared you would rebuke me for letting Reyn indulge himself in such plenty. I know we had agreed he must keep his gifts simple.”

In actuality, Ronica felt that Jani had overstepped the bounds of her agreement. Before she could find a tactful way to let her know that Reyn must not do it again, Davad chimed for her. “Simple? What place has simplicity in a young man's passion? Were I a boy again and courting such a girl as Malta, I, too, would attempt to overwhelm her with gifts.”

Ronica finally found her tongue. “But I am sure a young man like Reyn will want to be valued for himself, not his presents. Such a display is worthy of their first presentation to one another, but I am sure his courtship to follow will be more restrained.” By addressing her words to Davad rather than Jani, Ronica hoped to avoid giving offense while still letting her position be known.

“Nonsense!” Davad insisted. “Look at them. Does she look to you as if she wishes him to be restrained?”

Malta was all but enthroned in flowers. She sat in an armed chair, holding a great bouquet on her lap. Pots and vases of blooms and greenery had been placed around her. A single red flower had been pinned to the shoulder of her demure white dress. Another had been fastened into her upswept hair. They complemented the warm tones of her skin, and made her black hair seem even glossier. Her eyes were downcast as she spoke softly to the young man that stood so attentively beside her. Yet every so often, she would glance up at him through her eyelashes. When she did, her mouth would curve in the tiniest of cat-smiles.

Reyn Khuprus was dressed all in blue. A discarded cloak of azure draped an adjacent chair. His traditional Rain Wild garb of loose trousers and a long-sleeved shirt effectively camouflaged any deformities from the casual eye. He had a lean waist that he had proudly sashed with a wide silk belt. It was a darker hue than his other clothes. Black boots peeped out from the loose cuffs of his trousers. The backs of his fine black gloves were studded with blue flame gems in a breathtaking display of casual wealth. His hood was plain, made from the same silk as his sash. His face veil was black lace, effectively obscuring his features. Although his face was invisible, one sensed his rapt attention in the cant of his head.

“Malta is very young,” Ronica said. She spoke quickly, before anyone could say any more of the situation. “She does not have the wisdom to know when to go slowly. It is up to her mother and me to exercise that caution. Jani and I have agreed that, for their own sakes, these young people must not be allowed to be too impulsive.”

“Well, I fail to see why,” Davad contradicted her jovially. “What can come of this except good? Eventually, Malta must wed. Why stand in the path of young romance? Think of what may come of this: grandchildren for Jani, great-grandchildren for you, Ronica. And mutually profitable trade arrangements for all, I don't doubt.”

It pained Ronica to hear Davad so laboriously drag the conversation in the direction he wished it to go. Over the years, she had come to know the man too well. This was why he was truly here. He was an old friend of the family; he genuinely cared for Malta and what became of her. But the greatest part of his heart had long ago been given over to trade and the profits therefrom. For good or ill, it was how Davad's mind worked. He had never hesitated to use his friendships to the good of his business deals, though he seldom risked a business profit for the sake of friendship.