"If we have the wedding here."If we have the wedding here..." "Shut up, son. I asked the lady. If you're going to marry her, she'd damn well be able to speak for herself." Denni took a deep breath. "My father is Aaden Satpulov Shardik, a tleil. My mother was Rowan Masters Shardik, also a tleil." "Entirely second generation, eh?" The NeoRat examined her closely. "Like my son here. How old are you, to be a second generation Mephit?" "Eighty-four years old." "That all?" Samuel asked, surprised. "Didn't know tleils were still having babies like that. Are they real tleils?" "Excuse me?" "You know, the first one hundred. Sometimes, you'll catch one of the hrair calling themselves tleil instead." "Yes sir. Both are legitimate tleils." "Good, good. Now, did I hear you calling yourself a Shardik?" "Yes, sir. Aaden Shardik is my father." Samuel smiled and turned to his wife. "There you go, Jessica. If we hold the wedding here, you have a good chance of getting Ken Shardik to come to the wedding, and that'd be one damn fine coup in your cap, right?" "Dad, you're mixing metaphors again. It's either a coup d'etat, or a feather in your cap." "Shut up, son." Samuel looked over the assembled guests. "Well, Jeeves here will show y'all to your rooms. David, I assume at this point you're sleeping with the young lady already, so unless someone from your crew isn't here, I don't see why you asked for six rooms." "Because, Dad, the groom shouldn't see his bride the day before the wedding. |