Against his better judgment, Hallan allowed them to break the Merging Time and guided his suspendcraft to Amsen’s family unit’s home and lowered it to the ground. “Amsen.” He clutched the control wand.

“Thank you for doing this.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“We did not inform your family of our visit. They are not expecting us and we are taking up others’ time.” No partner of his could behave this way, yet he was the one who transported her here without a plan, without a schedule, without knowing what would happen next.

Instead of waiting for him to help her out, she slid the panel back and exited the vehicle. No sooner was she at the home’s entrance than the door opened and she disappeared inside.

He left his suspendcraft and walked inside like this was any visit, stopping when he spotted her father.

“Less than one Tempore revolution and she’s here?” The man lifted his chin and motioned for him to come inside. His tone sounded almost as if he expected them.

“It is not a permanent situation.” Hallan nodded. Though showing up unannounced was considered bad form, a quick glance around told them that her parents weren’t at all surprised by the company. On the table in the sitting room was a platter of fresh fruits and breads as well as a bottle of ale and three fine goblets. Three? He glanced over at her father. Perhaps they did interrupt some sort of gathering.

The man shrugged, strolled across the room to a shelving unit holding the finer dining pieces and took another goblet. “We were expecting her, not you.” He placed the goblet along with the others.

“Perhaps it was my idea to pay my newest family members a visit.” Right as he crossed his arms, Amsen’s cry echoed from the other room.

Both males turned toward the noise where Amsen dashed out across the room, skidded to a halt, looked between him and her father, then ran through another doorway at the other end of the room.

Before Hallan could say a word, Amsen’s mother mimicked her daughter’s actions and vanished through the same doorway.

For a few ghastly seconds the two males stood staring, causing Hallan to shift his weight from one foot to the other.

“Would you care for some ale?” Sr. Dadelon took his place on the seating and filled two of the goblets.

“Indeed.” Without looking directly at her father Hallan sat and grabbed the drink. “Just so you are aware, I know about Amsen.”

“She told you?” Sr. Dadelon scooted forward and grabbed a handful of the fruit meant to complement the ale.

Rather than reveal his information he took a sip of the drink and sat back.

“Well, if she told you, I have something you can take this back to your residence.” Her father stood, went to another room, and returned holding a huge square art piece that appeared to be made of crystals. “Amsen made this. She is an artist.”

“Artist?” He ran his hand through his hair. His partner had lied to him not once but twice. “You mean decorator, correct?”

“She goes through the motions of being a decorator, but actually she insists on being hands on with her art,” Sr. Dadelon explained.

“I assume that this art is the reason she was a year late in becoming joined?” He leaned in and studied her work. Upon closer inspection he realized the crystals were actually time blocks that had been smashed. Was this the horrible accident that befell her blocks? Another lie.

“We already discussed that,” her father said.

“Is there more?” He entered this arranged marriage under the knowledge he was getting a partner who may have been a bit off on her timing, but the untruths seemed to pile up on each other. They hadn’t even known each other long enough for him to be able to discern if lying was her norm or an anomaly. He wanted a partner, one to share his life with, not one where he had to wonder every second if she was real.

“I take it by now you figured out my offspring is not too fond of time,” her father said.

He answered with a nod. Everything his partner said told him she wanted to buck the system and not be concerned with seconds, minutes, hours or Tempore revolutions. All morning she tried to distract him with joining, with anything other than accomplishing their tasks. What else was she hiding?

The male sat back and crossed his legs. “She will learn that there is a time and place for everything. We chose you because you are a strong man, rigid and regimented. You need to put her in line.”

Hallan polished off his drink, and being that he was now family, helped himself to some more. If his partner wanted to be an artist, there were plenty of jobs that didn’t involve destroying time blocks, that didn’t involve wasting time. They chose him because he was available.

“Instead, we find you here only a short time after your pledging ceremony. We aren’t supposed to see or hear from you for eight days.” Her father hardened his tone. “How many of your tasks have you accomplished?”

Along with the drink he took some fruit and pastries, not realizing until the sweet treat hit his mouth how famished he had become. No wonder. They hadn’t had their early meal yet and it was way past time.

“Let me guess, there were no meals prepared, no discussion of a Union Ceremony, only her trying to lure you to do anything else than what needed to be done.” Her father refilled his glass. “You need to get my offspring under control. It was part of the vows you took less than one revolution ago. We discussed you would be in charge, get her to be on time. It is your duty.”

Again, he filled his mouth. More than once he tried to get Amsen on track only to fail.

“There is an order to things for a reason. You’re not even supposed to be here,” her father reminded him.

With no retort he sat and ground his teeth together. Together they sat wasting time in silence when he should be with his partner in their Merging Time. It was time to get Amsen under control.