Yoramel kept her hands folded on her lap beneath the table, sweating palms the only indication of her nerves.  She and Vaughn had come to King Argyle the Fourth of Xakal with more purpose than just escorting Novis.  Though that had been their main reason, they also came, essentially, to ask his permission to marry.  Since the priestess’ confession of her love for the paladin the year before, them being a smart match was an understatement.
     Vaughn, a knight of Xakal and viewed as a son by the king, had not yet asked Argyle’s permission to resign his title and duties.  Yoramel knew it would come up, likely soon, and she was nervous.  Not much as she thought she would be, but nervous none the less.  Her love for the paladin was surely too strong for Thuinion to ignore.  She had faith the god of love would make certain everything ended as it should.
     The slight priestess sat beside Vaughn at the expansive dining table, rich foods spread out before the four occupants.  The contrast between the two bordered on absurd.  The paladin was easily a head and a half taller than Yoramel, and was solidly built with muscle while she was approaching sickly thin.  It was only made worse by Vaughn wearing dress armor and the priestess having a well-fit dress.  His skin was dark, as was customary in Xakal, whereas hers was fair and almost too pale.  There was no difference where it mattered, however.
     King Argyle sat at the head of the table, his knight to his right and Novis to his left.  He kept up polite conversation, mostly with Novis.  There were many questions to be had.  Yoramel had little experience in dealing with political powers, let alone kings, so she just sat up straight and kept quiet, listening attentively to the others.  It was far easier to not say anything than worry about saying something wrong.  However, she would, of course, answer questions or comment on anything directed toward her.
     It wasn't long before the king beckoned everyone to serve themselves.  As was custom for the men of Xakal to do for their women, Vaughn plated food for Yoramel before he got his own.  It was a foreign practice to the priestess, but she understood it and smiled as he did so.  Chivalry was more engrained in the people of this country than her own.
     Vaughn cleared his throat before they began eating, making a polite yet stern reminder to the king that they must say their prayers beforehand.  Everyone bowed their heads and thanked Thuinion.
     That done, still neither Vaughn nor Yoramel touched their food.  Even without having to see it, the priestess knew her love was nervous as well—and likely looking for the best opportunity to bring up his request to King Argyle.
     The opportunity presented itself in short order.
     “So how is your relationship going?” the king inquired of Vaughn, tone conversational.  Vaughn shifted uneasily in his seat and nerves stirred in Yoramel’s stomach.
     “It goes well,” the paladin rumbled with a bit of a smile.  “We intend to marry.”
     Something odd happened inside Yoramel when she heard him say that.  She couldn’t quite place her finger on it.  Though it was common knowledge among their close companions, they had not yet made any official word that they would wed.  Their future together seemed to solidify with that simple statement.  Though her love for Vaughn was stronger than anything she had felt before, save for what she reserved for her god, she hadn’t realized how important it was to hear those words said to another—and especially Vaughn’s king.
     “Ah!” the king said with a wide smile.  “Wonderful  The church could always use another priestess.”
     “She intends to remain with Luthaine,” Vaughn stated, no room for debate, even from a king, in his deep voice.
     “How awkward,” King Argyle stated, smile fading around the edges.
     “It could be, I suppose,” the paladin gave the king as he again shifted in his chair.  “I was meaning to ask your permission to resign my status as knight.  If you don’t allow it, I will abide by your decision without question, my lord.  I will break off this relationship right now if you wish it.  I am in your service.”
     Argyle’s dark brows raised and he regarded Vaughn in silence for a breath or two.
     “Have you spoken with your father about this?” he asked.  Vaughn nearly grimaced.
     “Not yet.  We were going to see him once we left here.”
     The king fell silent again for a moment before speaking.
     “And if I said no, you would fight for me with but half a heart?” he inquired evenly.
     “Of course not, my lord,” Vaughn promptly responded.  “I would fight for you with all my soul.”
     King Argyle nodded thoughtfully to himself.
     “I can’t well let my best knight go, now can I?” he asked with a touch of amusement to his voice, though it was obvious he wasn’t seeking an answer.  The king’s smile returned, bordering on a grin.  Yoramel's nerves suddenly faded, to her surprise.  Anticipation, excitement, all of it vanished.  It was replaced by a numbness she couldn't explain.  The symbol of Thuinion hanging about her neck suddenly felt very heavy.
     “Besides,” he continued.  “You were the one who brought our friend here.”  He nodded toward Novis.  “Surely you would see what you started to its rightful conclusion.  He has already admitted that you were the reason he came to Xakal.”
     “Of course,” Vaughn rumbled, bowing his head.  It was the response both hadn’t wanted to hear, and Yoramel realized somewhere deep inside that she hadn’t even considered it actually happening.  She wasn’t sure what to do, how to react.  She wasn't sure if she could react.
     “No hard feelings from Luthaine, I hope?” King Argyle asked Yoramel with a smile.
     “Certainly not,” she replied, finding it easier to smile in kind than she thought.
     Vaughn reached up to his right bracer and tugged out a simple white handkerchief.  Such things were common in the cotton-growing region that Yoramel was from.  She had given it to him several months back, a favor from a lady to her love.  He handed it to her without a word, and she took it.
     She held onto it tightly beneath the table, fingers almost not registering the soft material under them.  She couldn't blame them.  Either of them.  It was the smart decision.  Vaughn would be far more useful as a knight in the king’s service.  Especially with the diplomatic possibilities Novis had brought with him.  She would be selfish taking him away from all that.
     Yoramel knew, rationally, that was the right response to the situation.  It was a detached line of thought, though, feeling distant to her.  As was the knowledge that a family with Vaughn was the only thing she asked for herself personally in the past twelve years of service to the god of love.  It simply didn't make sense to her that Thuinion wouldn't allow her that.
     She trusted him.  She didn't know what else she could do.