May 25, 2440 1:30 PM
With hugs given and a promise to show T’mari the city when the tour reached Chicago, Matt and T’mari walked out the front door to considerably more interest than they had attracted when they entered.
The fanfare, however, was not about them. It was, of course, for the four V’ren pages who had been following the pair around for the last three days.
“You are the one who insisted we needed aides and pages,” Matt said, seeing T’mari’s exasperated face.
“No. I made it clear that if you and the rest of the Freehold’s senior staff didn’t get them, you risked offending the highborn who weren’t getting the good assignments. I never suggested I needed or wanted them.”
“Well, Mistress of my Hearth and Heart, you are top Freehold staff now,” he said.
Matt whistled for the people with cameras. Once they had refocused on him, he smacked his delightfully curved wife on the ass.
“We are going now,” he announced with a wave. “Z’lur, that better not be my lunch getting cold there. I want crispy balls.”
“I can’t believe your first vacation merch was from there,” Matt said, looking at the four teens in T-shirts claiming they had put Big Ed’s balls in their mouths. “Did you at least sample the products before buying the shirts?”
“Rocky Mountain oysters are not like the oysters you have on the Freehold,” fourteen-year-old P’ola R’ter said, as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
“Not even close,” Matt chuckled, wondering what sort of aquaculture the V’ren might practice.
