The Gypsy Comet by London Lia

Author:London, Lia [Lia, London,]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-22T04:00:00+00:00

17 ~ Mrs. Artemus

The next morning, we showered and donned our cleanest clothing. In Dag’s case, that meant one of his coversuits and boots with a borrowed suit coat from my father. I’d lost my business suit in Tye when the ferry sank, so I wore one of my floral dresses from Ikekane with a white lace chemise over the top, courtesy of my mother. She found a way to wind my hair and a matching scarf into a sophisticated twist of braids and ringlets and pronounced me “pretty as a princess”.

My father rented another transport and hurried us back to Docking Bay. The government hub there retrieved the necessary data from the ferry drop to identify Dag and perform the civil ceremony uniting us as husband and wife. It wasn’t beautiful or sentimental, but it was legally binding. In a few words spoken with conviction, I became Mrs. Brita Artemus.

“Your colleagues on the Arxon won’t be angry for missing this?” I asked as we waited for the official to notarize our marriage files.

“This?” He kissed my cheek. “I wasn’t going to let them have any part of this.” He kissed my other cheek, laughing. “I’m keeping you to myself!”

I bumped my forehead into his, giddy with excitement and trembling with uncertainty.

My parents enveloped us in a group hug, having participated in the event as spectators. The official called in his secretary and a cook from the cafeteria to be the formal witnesses. Reading the certificate, a puddle of disappointment formed in my stomach. For obvious reasons, my mother couldn’t sign as a witness. She couldn’t let her lost princess identity be known. My father, as a gypsy, did not have authority to sign. The document listed Dag Artemus, ICS: Arxon and Brita Glenn, Rik Peninsula Colony. Dulcea Glenn might be a famous name, but Brita Glenn could be the daughter of any number of Carenian citizens descended from the original colonizers of the System.

Together, the four of us strode out into the sunlight, planning to enjoy the day exploring the town through Dag’s eyes before returning to the inn in Finca. My parents excused themselves and went to a restaurant that allowed gypsies.

Dag and I wandered hand-in-hand through a park, and I explained to him the phenomenon of having communal areas that combined paved paths and water fountains with wide trimmed lawns and sprawling shade trees. Whenever he grew tired, we’d sit on one of the benches, and I’d use the time to point out the different kinds of birds or explain the clothing options. He’d never imagined anything as simple as a picnic, or children playing tag or throwing a ball back and forth outdoors. The variety of human behaviors seemed to surprise him as much as sitting on real wood or walking on real grass.

He still squinted much of the time, trying to focus in the varied lighting.

“What’s that?” He pointed up into the tree that acted as an awning of shade over our bench. “I saw something moving.

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