text: Me: "What are you doing here?"
  
  Tarcuna: "I told the waitstaff that I was one of the ones you brought from Hove, so they let me help serve."
  
  Me: "You're not married! You should be on the outside!"
  
  Tarcuna: "So I lied to them about it. Besides, whose fault is that?"
  
  Me: "Yours, for not staying with anyone for more than a half-dozen months." (She had gone through a great many girlfriends over the last dozen years, and even a few boyfriends.)
  
  Tarcuna: "No. Yours."
  
  Me: "What, you've been waiting for me to realize you love me more than Nrararn does? I've known that for years. It's your own fault, or at least mostly due to brain damage."
  
  Tarcuna: "Actually it's because we've never lived anywhere that girls can marry each other. And some big black monster with immense legal powers has not seen fit to make it so."
  
  Me: "Well, next time you're in love with a hoven girl, go to Perstra. I suspect Ythac and Llredh would give you that law, as a present. And it's not so far from your home."
  
  Tarcuna: "In case my family ever forgives me? Well, anyhow, I am happy for you."
  
  Me: "Jealous, too."
  
  Tarcuna: "Not too bad. I'm still your friend and seneschal."
  
  Me: "Always, Tarcuna." Well, as long as she's alive and wants to do it, which is only a few more duodecades.
  
  Tarcuna: "That's plenty for one hoven. Hey, I'd better get back to the kitchen... I love you, y'know."
  
  Me: "I love you too, Tarcuna."
  
  Nrararn gave me a very tolerant look, so I wrote to him, "And you, I am busy learning to love. Properly and fully, and in good draconic style." He seemed suitably appeased.