The Ghost Bride

by Stacey Keystone

  "Sure, Mrs. Kaffale," Martinus said. "We'll just have a meal in a nice restaurant, go for some shopping, return before it's dark."

  "I'm not sure it would be safe," I replied. "With just you. I already told you…"

  "I've talked with the Colonel," Martinus said. "He said it's fine, and that they'll keep an eye on us."

  "That was fast," I murmured, but allowed him to drag me out.

  I wanted to get out and see stuff. Having to go with Martinus would ruin the experience a bit, but it was still pretty exciting.

  Once we were outside, Martinus tapped on the portal's settings.

  "I've opened a portal to Leern," he said. "Come after me."

  And he entered the portal, disappearing in front of my eyes. I looked at the circular stone. I could ignore him and go back to my bedroom… But I wanted to see the world.

  I made a step forwards, seeing the world disappear around me, only to appear in a big square.

  9

  As I stepped away from the circular stone, I squinted because of the bright sun. It had been late afternoon in Kaffale house and the Academy… Were we in another time zone?

  "What time is it here?" I asked Martinus.

  "It's the early morning here," he said, looking at the sky. "Come on, let's go for lunch. I'm hungry."

  "So, when you said you'll return me when it gets dark…" I asked.

  "I'll make sure you go back there on time if that's what you're asking," Martinus said. "Although I don't see why you insist on working. I can help you with the living costs."

  "That would be inappropriate," I said. "And I'm not a sugar baby. I'm net even your fiancée."

  "I'm not sure what a 'sugar baby' is," Martinus said, "but I can guess. And as my fiancée and future wife, you won't be a 'sugar baby'."

  I shrugged. There was no point in discussing this; we were from different worlds. He wouldn't understand.

  "So," Martinus said. "What would you like to eat?"

  "I don't know the food here," I said. "But I prefer solid food. No soups. And no salads."

  "No soups or salads," Martinus nodded, "Got ya."

  This informal expression, from his mouth, was so funny, I couldn't hold a giggle. Even when fighting and calling me bad words, he'd always stayed formal.

  "What's so funny?" he asked, but I shook my head. He then offered me his elbow. "Shall we go, ma'lady?"

  I looked around. It seemed like the ladies who were accompanied by gentlemen around the square rested their hand on the men's elbow. And this was better than him trying to grab my waist or shoulder. I accepted it and stood on his left, my hand on his elbow.

  "Let's go," I said. "But I'd like you to choose an affordable place. Nothing I wouldn't be able to afford."

  "Why?" he asked, expertly guiding me through the square, towards a side street. "I hope you don't intend to pay for your part of the meal. I'm not that liberal. My mother taught me manners."

  "I don't have any money," I said, "so I wouldn't be able to pay, anyway. But I'd still like to go to an affordable place. It's a matter of principle."

  "Alright," he said, after a pause. "We'll go to an affordable place."

  The cafe he took me to was not anything I would call affordable. It screamed luxury to me. The white linen on the table, the silver cutlery (or at least it looks silvery to me; I can't recognize real silver), the elegant rug on the floor, the partitions between the tables… Everything screamed expensive.

  "If this is affordable for you," I hissed into Martinus' ear, as the Maitre D' greeted us, "I don't know what fancy would be."

  "That would be a private room," he said, "but, since that would be inappropriate, I'd take you to a place with live music. Relax; this is the most affordable place I know."

  I shrugged, released my hand from his elbow, determined to choose the cheapest item from the menu.

  But then I got a menu that seemed to be just a list of food, with no price indicated anywhere. I looked. I scanned the entire thing, leafing through every page. No price anywhere.

  "Give me yours," I said, handing him my menu.

  "Why?" he asked, handing me his menu. "Are you struggling to choose? I can help with that."

  His menu didn't have prices, either.

  "Why doesn't the menu show the price?" I asked, leafing through the booklet.

  "Because if you need to ask," Martinus said, "you can't afford it."

  "I told you I wanted an affordable place!" I said, trying to whisper so the waiter who was standing at a respectful distance.

  "Don't worry," Martinus said. "I can afford it."

  In the end, the absurdity of the conversation we were having just made me laugh.

  "You know," I said, "you won't impress me like this. I'm happy with my ordinary life. You can't buy me."

  "I'm not trying to buy you," Martinus shrugged. "Or anything silly like that. I just like good food. You'll see in the Academy; the food is just awful."

  "Is it just that?" I asked, closing the menu and looking into his eyes.

  "Yes," he said. "I just want to eat well."

  "Alright then," I said. "You can order for me."

  Martinus eyed me with suspicion, but I smiled and started spreading a napkin on my knees. Nobody else was doing that, but I don't have that many nice dresses.

  He then gestured to the waiter, and made an order, pointing at the menu, ordering two of each.

  "I ordered you the same food I'm eating," he said.

  "I hope you have good taste, then," I replied.

  "And I hope you have a good appetite." He said.

  The waiter then came and served us a glass of red wine each. I looked at it with suspicion.

  "You don't like wine?" Martinus asked.

  "I've never tasted it," I replied. "I'm eighteen; alcohol is banned until 21 where I come from."

  "And people follow the law?" Martinus asked with curiosity.

  "Well," I said. "Not really. I've tried hard liquor occasionally or had a can of beer. But I never drank wine."

  "You can drink as much as you want here," Martinus said. "The age of drinking here is 16."

  "I'll try it," I said. "But I'd prefer water."

  "No problem," Martinus said, calling the waiter. "Water," he ordered, "for me and the lady, please."

  "You can drink wine if you want to," I said.

  "Since my evil plan of getting you drunk didn't work," Martinus said, joking. Or at least I think so. "And I don't want to be the only one drinking, we'll both stick with water."

  "You had an evil plan of getting me drunk?" I asked. "And what were you planning to do afterward?"

  "Seduce you, of course," Martinus said. "Why do you even need to ask?"

  "I was just curious," I replied, and then the appetizer came.

  It was some kind of meat wrapped in something green with a piece of cheese on top. I watched as Martinus took one with his fingers, and I did the same. It was delicious.

  The entire meal was delicious, a feast for the flesh. I finished every dish. After the magical incident, I was still a bit too thin, and my appetite was still oversized.

  Martinus ate much less than me, leaving half the food on the plate. I hate fussy eaters.

  By the time the waiter brought us dessert, a delicious raspberry lemon cheesecake, and some tea, I was full, and feeling more favorably towards my companion, despite his fussiness.

  "You eat a lot, do you?" Martinus observed as I finished the last bite of cheesecake. My stomach was full by then, but I was using the special spot reserved for dessert.

  "I eat what I have to," I shrugged, downing the sweet, tart flavor with the bitterness of hot black tea.

  "I wondered how a high magician could survive in a magically isolated world… But now I see how," Martinus said, taking a sip of coffee. "You must have eaten huge amounts of food to survive."

  "I told you the entire story," I said. "This morning."

  "Hearing about it is one thing, seeing it is another," Martinus said. "Gene
rating magic is an ability we all have in theory, but never use because it is too costly. But it seems so integrated into you, you don't even realize when you're doing it."

  "That's because I've been doing it since I was a baby," I said. "You don't realize when you breathe, right? That's how it is for me."

  "I see," Martinus said. He raised his hand, calling the waiter, and asked for the bill. As the waiter disappeared from our view, he leaned in, extending his hands towards mine.

  "Amy," he said, cradling my hand in his. "I am honored you told me everything, but… why did you tell me?"

  I shrugged.

  "Don't think too much of it," I said. "I wanted to tell somebody, you seemed to have figured quite a lot already, and you need to know it's dangerous to be close to me."

  "But you didn't tell Yllana," Martinus said, his tone almost… hopeful?

  I looked into his eyes and firmly released my hands from his grasp.

  "Don't read anything that isn't there," I said. "I haven't told Yllana yet because Yllana doesn't spend the day following me, putting herself in danger. I had to tell you so you'd know the danger."

  And maybe it would scare him off, too. Didn't work. Whatever. Still, the right thing to do.

  I got a look into the bill before Martinus paid it. If that was affordable…

  "A thousand ducats?" I hissed as he opened the door for me. "You brought me to a place where you pay a thousand ducats for a meal and you call that affordable?"

  I've realized why Victorian ladies needed gentlemen's help to open doors and moving chairs. It's because long and wide skirts make everything more uncomfortable.

  "Stop complaining," Martinu said, offering me his elbow. I looked around, and, seeing everybody walking like that, gave him my hand, but continued complaining. "I just wanted to have a nice meal. I paid for both of us. What's the big deal?"

  "This is inappropriate," I said. "It's way too expensive. I'm not rich, you know."

  "But I am," he said. "And I was the one who paid."

  "Precisely," I said. "You shouldn't be paying for me."

  "If you're reacting like this just to a meal," Martinus said, "why did you agree to go shopping?"

  "I wanted to go out of the house a bit," I said. "See the city. I've been stuck indoors for a month, and I just wanted to go out. Maybe do some window shopping."

  "By 'window shopping', you mean…"

  "Look but not buy," I said. "I've already spent all my advance on dresses."

  "I can buy you a dress," Martinus said.

  I just looked at him.

  "Considering how much you paid for a meal," I said, "I can guess what kind of dress you'd insist I need. And I don't need fancy clothes. I barely get out of the house. Where would I wear something fancy?"

  "To our engagement party, for example," Martinus said. "I'll need to tell mother we've already invited your uncle to it."

  "He's not my uncle," I said. "He kicked my father out of the family, remember?"

  "Do you resent him for that?" Martinus asked.

  "No," I replied. I didn't. I'd have kicked my father out of my family if I knew how to do that. "But that means we're unrelated."

  "If you say so," Martinus shrugged. "Although you won't be able to keep it secret for long."

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Because you're starting to look more and more like a Morad," Martinus said. "Even your hair is changing color."

  It's been a while since I've looked in a mirror. I didn't want my ghost appearance to change, and it seemed to reflect my perception of my face rather than my real face.

  "Yeah, the dye has worn out," I said. "I should dye my hair again. It's been a while."

  "If I'm right," Martinus said, "you won't be able to."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "Because none of us can," Martinus said. "The dye won't stick. I'm surprised it stuck to you last time. "

  "Really?"

  I must admit, I was disappointed. I liked my blue hair. It was so… electric.

  "You can try," he shrugged. "I don't mind."

  "Gee, thanks," I said. "I've been waiting for your permission to dye my hair."

  He noticed my sarcasm but said nothing. We continued walking, and I admired the city, no longer engrossed in the conversation.

  We were walking through the richest parts of the city, full of boutiques and fancy restaurants and ladies with silk dresses and elegantly dressed gentlemen. Quite a few of them seemed to recognize Martinus, although nobody approached us to say anything.

  "They're going to talk about this, right?" I asked as a lady stopped, staring at us wild-eyed, and then started whispering something into her partner's ear.

  "Yeah," Martinus said. "They will. Everybody's curious to meet my fiancée. Mother has been fielding visits from all our acquaintances, who seemed to be fishing for an invitation to our party. And that's despite the fact that we haven't officially announced anything yet. Once that happens, the dam's gonna break."

  "Is that the reason you're parading me through the most public places?" I asked with suspicion.

  "I promised Mrs. Kaffale I'd keep things decent," Martinus said. "And besides, I wanted to bring you to this place."

  He then stopped, making me stop, as well. We were in front of a jewelry store.

  "You said you want a diamond ring, right?" Martinus asked.

  "I don't remember saying such a thing," I lied. "And didn't you say you already got me one? When you announced our supposed engagement."

  "I lied," Martinus said. "I don't even know your size."

  What would I say if he proposed, instead of telling everybody about it? Before, I'd have said not just no, but hell, no. Now… I wasn't so sure. This was nice. I didn't want to marry him, not yet, but this world had different traditions than mine. And it seemed like serious romantic relationships outside of marriage are not accepted here.

  "Well, thankfully, I have a much better memory than you do," Martinus continued, undeterred, trying to gently guide me towards the shop's door.

  "In my world," I decided to lie to the end. Well, not lie, but exaggerate wildly. "To propose a man is supposed to fall to his knees, in a circle of roses, and offer the girl the diamond ring. And then she decides if she'll take it."

  "What a strange custom," Martinus said. "I hope that whole display is not public, is it?"

  "It is," I continued lying, unashamedly. "And it is accompanied by fireworks if she says yes."

  "And if she says no?" Martinus asked. "Why would anyone subject themselves to such public humiliation?"

  "Out of love, I guess," I said. "It's not like anybody's proposed to me before. But I want the whole package."

  "Well, let's get the ring first," Martinus said. "And we'll see how it goes."

  10

  I went completely overboard with the ring thing. I didn't want to choose one, but I must admit when I saw all the sparkly beauties… I tried on so many of them, then decided I wanted to try some necklaces too, and those earrings combined so well with my blue bracelet…

  I spent an hour trying on all kinds of different jewelry. I think Martinus got a bit bored, because at some point, while I was trying a beautiful necklace with a huge sapphire in the middle surrounded by diamonds, he whispered into my ear, "I thought you didn't want me to buy you anything."

  "I still don't," I replied, keeping my voice down and smiling at the shop assistant.

  "You don't?" he asked and waved his hand toward all the open boxes. "And what is all that, then?"

  "I'm just trying them," I said. "I always wanted to. As for the ring, you buy that one," I pointed at the smallest, least ostentatious ring, the one I liked as soon as I put it on.

  "You've been trying all this," Martinus said, "without the intention of buying any of it?"

  "Yes," I replied. "They're so pretty."

  "Oh, so they're pretty?" Martinus asked.

  Then he turned towards the shop assistant and started pointing at stuff.

  "Pack this on
e. And that emerald brooch. And those earrings," he started pointing at some pieces. The pieces I liked. Did he notice it despite seeming bored?

  When we went out of the shop, he bought most of the pieces I liked. I didn't look at the bill, because the sole idea terrified me. I wondered whether he'd be carrying a fortune out of the shop, but he sent everything to Kaffale House instead. Except for the small ring, which he put in his pocket.

  "I'll return the gifts," I said, as we went out of the shop.

  "They're non-returnable," Martinus said. "But if you insist they should be stored in my house, I see no problem with that, pumpkin."

  "Keep them in your house," I said. "I don't know why you want female jewelry, but it's your right to keep it, after all. Give it to your mother or something."

  "OK," Martinus said. "Bring them yourself. And my mother has my father; he gives her enough jewelry."

  "What?" I asked. "Why would I go to your house?"

  "My house also has a portal," Martinus said, "which only allows those who have our permission to come. I've included you, so you can come at any time of day and night, but nobody else in your house has permission."

  "If I go to your house," I said, "I'll have to deal with your mother."

  "That's your fault, by the way," Martinus said. "Why did you call my mother? She likes you now. She'll be visiting you soon, insisting you organize our engagement party. Choose the centerpieces and the lettering on the invitations."

  "Are you telling your mother I live in Kaffale House?" I asked.

  He nodded.

  "Of course," Martinus said. "This way, I won't be the only person she annoys with all the party preparations. She spent an hour yesterday making me choose the color scheme, only to ignore all my suggestions. Maybe she'll listen to you, who knows. If she has you, she'll spend her time dragging you through endless meetings selecting centerpieces and color schemes and whatnot, instead of me."

  My plan was backfiring on me. I think Martinus noticed it because he smiled in a teasing way.

  "You were hoping for something else, weren't you?" he asked. "You were hoping my mother would be against this engagement, that she would convince me to break it off. Well, let me tell you, my mother never cared about money or status that much; her only care was to have grandkids. And that preference she expressed loud and clear many, many times to my brothers and me. The only thing that clouds her happiness is my brothers' bachelor status. She'll be asking you if you have sisters or friends. Or if you're willing to swap me for one of my brothers."