Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(105)

"You know what this means," Ehren said, shaking his head. "A messenger. This armada. It's war, Captain. And you are not the only one who has been betrayed."

Demos stared aft and said nothing. The darkness that was the storm driving the Canim armada swallowed the island of Westmiston entirely.

Ehren turned to face Demos. "I'll triple the amount of your pay if you get us back to Alera in time enough to warn the Legions. No questions asked."

The mercenary glanced at him, silent for a long moment. Then his teeth showed again, and he nodded, very slightly, to Ehren. "Bosun!"

"Aye, skipper?"

"Reinforce the mainmast, hang out all the laundry, and warn the witchmen! Let's make the old bitch fly!"

Isana opened her eyes and thought she was going to faint. Septimus, with his usual delicate, precise touch, had slipped a ring onto her finger so lightly that she had not felt him doing it.

The hand looked like silver, hut was so delicately wrought that she could barely feel its weight. The setting was of a pair of eagles, facing one another, supporting the jewel upon their forward-swept wings. The stone itself was cut into a slender diamond shape, hut the gem was like nothing Isana had ever seen, brilliant red and azure, divided precisely down the center without any detectable seam.

"Oh," she breathed quietly. She felt her eyes bulging, her cheeks growing pink. "Oh. Oh, my."

Septimus let out a quiet laugh, and she could sense his pleasure at her reaction, and Isana felt that same surge of joy well up inside her, just as it had the first time she had heard his laugh. Her mouth failed her, and she only sat, staring up at Septimus, drinking in his features. Dark hair, intense green eyes, tall, strong. He was so handsome, his expressive face able to convey volumes of meaning without speaking at all, and his voice was low, rich, strong.

They sat together on a spread blanket at the shore of the little lake near the Legion garrison in the Calderon Valley, under the harvest moon. They had taken their meal together there, as they had so many times since the spring, feeding one another and speaking quietly, laughing, kissing.

He had asked her to close her eyes, and Isana had complied, sure that he was about to show her some new jest.

Instead, he had slipped a ring bearing all the marks of the House of Gaius onto her left ring finger.

"Oh, Septimus," Isana breathed. "Don't say it."

He laughed again. "My love, how could I not?" He reached out and took both of her hands in his. "I cursed my father when he sent the Legion all the way out here," he said quietly. "But I never thought I would meet someone like you. Someone strong and intelligent and beautiful. Someone..." He smiled a little, and it made his face look boyish. "Someone I can trust. Someone I want to stand beside me, always. I can't take the chance that I might lose you if the Legion is ordered elsewhere, my love." He lifted her hand and kissed it. "Marry me, Isana. Please."

The world started spinning in wild circles, but Isana could not take her eyes away from the only stable thing in it-Septimus, his eyes bright and intense in the moonlight.

"Your f-father," Isana said. "I'm not even a Citizen. He would never allow it."

Septimus flicked an irritated glance in the general direction of the capital. "Don't worry about that. I'll deal with Father. Marry me."

"But he would never accept it!" Isana breathed.

Septimus shrugged and smiled. "The shock will be good for him, and he'll get over it. Marry me. "

Isana blinked, shocked. "He's the First Lord!"