~Declan.

Our three days off from rehearsals went by so fast I had to question whether it'd been three days at all. I definitely enjoyed them, but that didn't make them any longer. Before I knew it, I was waking up with the knowledge I'd have to walk down to the Paiges' mansion and meet up with my bandmates. Hopefully things wouldn't be as tense, since we'd just be preparing for a normal concert now.

Of course, that wouldn't mean I'd have no tension at all. Far from it. Actually, as I got dressed that morning, I felt more nervous than ever, since I knew there was something else I'd have to do while at the mansion. I'd have to find an opportunity to sit Mr. Paige himself down and ask about dating his daughter.

Strangely enough, I'd never talked to Mr. Paige in all my time in the band. Other than eye contact from a distance, we'd had no communication at all. And yet here I was, planning on having a very personal conversation with the man.

From everything I'd heard about Mr. Paige, he was a friendly guy with a good sense of humor, but if I knew anything about fathers, it was that they could downright scary when it came to keeping their families safe. And given it was no secret he'd fought in the war against my home country ... who even knows what memories could trigger in him when looking at me?

With those lovely thoughts in mind, I hauled myself and my saxophone to the mansion. Someday, I'd have to buy a car to make life easier on myself, but I hadn't saved that much yet. Things weren't exactly cheap in Silverport, and it didn't help that I'd showed up more broke than a shattered window.

When I got there, rehearsal went well, nothing to write home about. Much of the program for our next concert would be tunes we played on a regular basis, just with tweaks here and there to create a unique experience. The director picked different people to solo, switched some baritone parts to the bass trombone, things like that. We also sight-read a couple new tunes. But overall, just a typical repertoire.

Things started to get interesting when the time came to leave. While everyone else filed out the door, I hunted down one of the Paiges' servants and tapped his shoulder, causing him to whirl about and ask what I needed.

"I'd like to talk to Mr. Paige." I said bluntly, "Where can I find him?"

The servant's lips twitched and eyebrows furrowed, as if he found my question crazy. "He's ... most likely in his study, sir. Do you have an appointment?"

"Not exactly. Was I supposed to?"

"I'd think so. Mr. Paige is a very busy man, and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate any unplanned intrusions on his productivity."

I sucked in a breath. "If he's busy now, then I can ask him about meeting at a later date. You mind showing me to his study?"

"I suppose not."

The servant kept his bald head on a swivel as we worked our way through the mansion, as if he felt in his heart he was doing something wrong. And honestly, some of his nervousness rubbed off one me as well. Though for me, I guess my anxiety came from the anticipation of meeting Mr. Paige, with all the unpredictabilities that came attached to that.

Eventually, we came to a sturdy door built of amber-colored wood and held shut by a polished bronze door knob. The servant looked more than eager to skedaddle, and once I gave him my thanks, he did scamper off. It was almost like he felt he'd just dropped me off at a crime scene.

As anticipation made my own stomach tingle in uneasiness, I balled my fist and knocked on the door. The shuffling of papers within briefly hit my ears, and then Mr. Paige's voice called "come in". This was it. I braced myself and turned the knob.

The first thing I noticed while walking in was the massive desk Mr. Paige sat at, which spanned almost the entire length of the square-shaped room. Built of the same wood as the door, it looked solid as bedrock, and carved into the outer edge were a series of the world's most majestic animals. A parade of wooden lions, elephants, bears, and the like hemmed in Mr. Paige's workspace.

My eyes quickly locked onto Mr. Paige's. Though I dipped my head and gave him a tight-lipped smile, inside, I was anything but pleased to see him. My body was tightening and my resolve slipped by the moment.

"Declan Otto..." Mr. Paige toned, peering over the rims of his reading glasses, "I'm pleased to see you. Make yourself comfortable; have a seat."

I must have mumbled something incoherent in response as I settled down into the slim armchair on the other side of his desk. Sitting there put me on a level below Mr. Paige, causing him to look down on me from his perch. This only made him literally as imposing as he'd already felt in my mind.

Mr. Paige rose to his feet, which made him further tower over me. He stepped over to a coffee machine standing on a tiny table in the corner. After pouring a generous cup, he sat back down and slid it across the desk to me. Then he picked up a mug of his own and raised it in a sort of toast.

"So, I assume you didn't come merely to share a cup of coffee with me, pleasant as that is." Mr. Paige said in what I hoped was a joking tone.

I nearly scalded my tongue taking my first sip, but quickly forced myself to recover. "No, not at all, sir. I uh ... well, it's about your daughter Tahlia."

"She's my only one." Mr. Paige let out a hearty laugh. "But what of her?"

"So ... well I want to start by apologizing. Because I know you know that I already took her on a date once about a week ago, and I didn't ask your permission or even let you know what was going on. I'm new around here, and I just didn't know that was something I was supposed to do. But still, I'm sorry. I definitely messed up there."

"You Candorians do things rather differently. I understand."

I shrugged with one shoulder so I didn't upset the full cup in my right hand. "Still ... I'm not sure that's any excuse."

"I suppose we won't need to worry any longer about whether it is. I accept your apology, Mr. Otto."

I almost replied "thank you" to that, but then I decided that was a dumb reply. From all I could tell, I'd stifled that answer before Mr. Paige could see my lips move. Either way, he looked like he was sorting thoughts in his head before continuing to speak, so I just decided to wait.

"It's been a long time since I spoke with a Candorian this close, you know." Mr. Paige said slowly, "You know I fought in the war, right?"

"Yeah, I'm aware."

"You ever serve, Mr. Otto?"

"No. I'm not exactly interested in shooting a bunch of folks just because my government said so."

"What about to protect your family?"

I paused to take a sip of scalding coffee. "If my family was in danger, I'd do anything to stop the threat."

"So you're not simply a pacifist."

"Not at all."

Mr. Paige ran one of his thick hands over his silvery beard. "Did anyone you know serve?"

"Just my uncle. Bit of a shame, because he lost an eye and his legs over a pointless war."

"Pointless?" Mr. Paige echoed, a tinge of anger his voice, "You call that pointless?"

"Yeah ... I do. It was an extremist group who organized the killing of Lymar's prime minister. Most everyone I know never supported their actions in the slightest."

"And yet Candor's government protected those extremists from standing trial here. They shielded their radicals from Lymar justice. To me, that looks like support."

"I can't really speak on that." I said as carefully as I could, "I was busy struggling through school when that fiasco was going down."

"A fiasco that could easily have been avoided. It never needed to come to war, Mr. Otto."

"I agree. And so we're agreed it was a pointless war, then."

Mr. Paige stared into my eyes with a squint that faded away, and then a nod of realization. "We are in agreement."

"Now, if you wouldn't mind ... I wasn't here to talk politics, sir."

"Oh, yes, you were here to talk about ... which one of my daughters?"

I laughed, nearly sloshing my coffee out of the cup in the process. "The one and only Tahlia Paige, of course."

"Alright, what of her?"

"Well, I guess I wanna do right by you this time. I'd like your permission and blessing to take her on another date."

"Ah, I see." Mr. Paige said, "Better to be honest late than never at all, is that it?"

"I ... guess so. Yeah."

"Normally, I'd be quite skeptical here. After all, you already did sneak out with my daughter once."

I dipped my head in acknowledgement. "I did."

"That said, if you had any ill intent, you wouldn't be sitting here right now. So with that in mind, you have my blessing, but only if Tahlia wants to go."

"Of course. Well, thanks, Mr. Paige. I won't take any more of your ti—"

"Mark my words, Mr. Otto." Mr. Paige interrupted with a very serious tone. He stepped over to a tall cabinet with glass doors, where an impressive rifle leaned on a stand inside. "If you cause harm or sorrow to my daughter in any way ... I know where you live. Wouldn't be my first time shooting somebody, either."

With a big gulp and a conscious effort to keep a brave face, I nodded. "With any luck, things will never come to that, sir. I respect Tahlia too much to do anything like that to her."

"Good. Keep it that way, son."

"I will."

Rising to my full height, I reached over the table to shake Mr. Paige's sturdy hand. And then I turned to leave his study, well aware I'd abandoned the rest of my coffee in the process. If there was anything Tahlia's dad was good at, it was making an intimidating display second to none.