Valerian got to his feet first, helping Aisha up beside him, both of them dripping with water that was already drying strangely fast, leaving no chill behind it at all.
The old man at the edge of the spring watched them with an expression that was, Valerian thought, almost unfairly similar to Braham's. The same ancient weight sitting easily on broad shoulders, the same sense of someone who had been the most powerful thing in every room for longer than memory.
But warmer. Where Braham's eyes held curiosity sharpened into something almost predatory, this man's held something gentler. Tired, in the way grandfathers were tired. Amused, in the way grandfathers were amused.
"Calm down," the old man said, before either of them had said anything else. "You're already exhausted, child. Both of you, by the look of it." He took a step closer, leaning on the staff. "Anyway. Since you've already gone through the baptism..."
He smiled.
"I suppose we can speed up the marriage as well."
...
