4
Samh 9.04.1342 20:00
As the evening wore away with the Gillfillian household in a complete uproar, the little Swienzean clock in the girls’ parlor rang out in musical notes the hour of 20:00. Immediately after, there a slight bustle in the hall with rapid questions and answers, incoherent exclamations, and hurried footsteps up the stairway. Suddenly, the door burst open, and the same Theodomani, whom they were all mourning after reading the news article, stood there fully alive. His short, dirty blonde hair was tussled from travel, his black rimmed glasses kept slipping down his nose and revealing slate eyes above them. His build was between slim and muscular, and like his hair, his beige sweater vest was askew and his navy pants wrinkled.
He sprang with one light bound to the side of the sofa where his still insensible fiancée lay, gulping forth air at short intervals between broken and stifling sobs.
Forgetful of all ceremony, he wrapped her in his arms.
“Jeanilotta, dearest, it is I—Theodomani. What is ailing you?" he murmured as he wildly kissed her jet-black hair. There was a slight stir, and Jeanilotta’s eyes focused on this new arrival. The mental cloud began to disappear, and she gradually recognized and embraced her love.
“But how?” she was finally able to articulate. “We thought you were dead. Tell me everything!”
Abaledina concurred her cousin’s request and pulled an ottoman next to the sofa to better hear the tale.
“'Ah, yes!" replied Theodomani with a slight shudder. "It was a terrible moment. I don’t think I can explain its horrors well enough to make you understand the experience."
“Then it’s true that you drifted into space?" asked Jeanilotta feebly, her lips growing white.
“True—yes—to an extent, my love. Surely, you see I am here in the flesh and not just a spirit?”
After a pause, he continued, “It was entirely an accident. I had decided to get one last tour in the day we were to return home. Sadly, it ran late, making it necessary for all of us who took it to attempt exiting the hoverbus as quickly as possible so we would not miss the ship home. In the crush, I was shoved from behind, and my helmet bumped into the top of the doorframe, causing my head to bounce inside it. As you might expect, this knocked me out cold, and as I was told, I began floating into space with your name being the last thing on my lips.
“I was led to understand that for some reason the emergency crew had difficulties with their gear, but Viscount Elwynalam, whom I have recently written you about, was able to retrieve me before any of them.
“When I awoke, I found him nearby and unconscious on the moonstation floor, attended by emergency personnel. Apparently, in his attempt to rescue me, the air he was using ran out. He almost lost his life to save mine. Using the most incredible exertions, he succeeded in reaching me at the last moment and bore me in his arms toward the moonstation, collapsing near enough for us to be easily rescued.
“On the trip home, when I went to express my gratitude, he replied without the least excitement. ‘I need no thanks; the act was trifling. It will be a source of joy to me, and I shall no doubt find your life one worth preserving.’ He did not wait for any further gratefulness on my part and quickly left me.
“Ah, Jeanilotta! I am so impatient to introduce this man to you.”
“Viscount Elwynalam!” Lieutenant Gillfillian exclaimed. “Had you so distinguished a passenger on the Antiby IV?”
“If he honors us with his friendship,” replied Theodomani, enthusiastically, “he is a man whom we can but receive and admire. His life is wrapped in profound mystery to me, though. There is no record of his past or birth that I could find, his servants never gossip, and he is perfectly impenetrable.
“Is his lordship married or unmarried?” asked Mrs. Gillfillian with true womanly curiosity.
“It is impossible to say," replied Theodomani. “The child he was with seemed much too old to be his natural child, but perhaps a little young to be his wife.”
“We must seek his acquaintance; it will make a brilliant connection for us."
Abaledina was puzzled by the almost wicked gleam she caught in her aunt’s eye as it gazed at Jeanilotta.
“We will seek his friendship for its own sake," her husband replied. "At the least, we must thank him fervently for so nobly risking his life for a stranger because that stranger is so dear to us.”
“You are absolutely right,” his wife cooed. “We must throw a ball in celebration of Theodomani’s safe return and honor Lord Elwynalam for saving him. Propriety demands it!”
“You may be correct, my dear. I trust I can leave the planning of it to you?”
“Of course!”
* * * * * *
As the night grew late, Theodomani left. The servants and Gillfillians returned to their own quarters, and the cousins performed their evening toilette. Opening the sliding doors for the night, revealed two bedroom nooks behind them—one for each girl to have some privacy while still sharing the space.
“I am still not quite feeling myself,” Jeanilotta complained as she collapsed dramatically on the bed. “Abaledina, would you mind being a dear and getting me something for my head and some of the seltzer water from the kitchen to ease my stomach?”
“Of course,” the younger replied.
On her return, she passed the drawing room and despite the late hour heard voices through the slightly ajar door.
“He is to be our guest of honor. I am sure that he is unmarried.” There was a pause and then the voice resumed, “It is such a shame that Jeanilotta is betrothed already.”
At this, Abaledina stopped in her tracks and frowned.
“Although Theodomani is from possibly one of the richest families in the city,” the voice continued, “he has absolutely no title. Since he is only from a family of entertainers, he has no chance to ever obtain one. It’s not quite the match I had hoped for, but Jeanilotta is young and believes her heart matters in these things.”
Abaledina blushed and hurried on her way, but she was unable to determine whether the blush was the result of her realizing the impropriety of her eavesdropping or embarrassment over her aunt’s shallowness.
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