Chapter 51: Father In Law!
"My father\'s eager to meet you," she had said with an enticing grin.
"And if he approves, you could bring me home as your wife," she added, her smile sweet yet teasing.
Logan balked, "This is moving too quickly. We\'ve only known each other for what, five days?" His past life\'s sensibilities still echoed within him, making the swift talk of marriage unsettling.
"What\'s the rush? You like me, and I certainly like you," Jean countered, her gaze piercing into his.
He sensed an underlying affection in her insistence, even if she appeared somewhat exasperated with his hesitations. When she pressed him for an answer, Logan turned away awkwardly, his eyes fixed on the bubbling pot beside him.
"If you\'re not into this, I just won\'t bother coming by tomorrow!" Jean declared, her tone sharp as she strode towards the kitchen door.
"No, I... I do love you. But meeting your father so soon?" Logan stammered, his voice a mix of affection and anxiety. He was unsure if Jean was jesting or dead serious.
Her straightforward nature meant she might genuinely walk away, a thought he couldn\'t bear, especially now that his emotions were fully engaged.
"What was that?" Jean spun around, closing the distance in a heartbeat. She playfully tugged at Logan\'s ear, demanding, "Say it again."
"I\'ve fallen for you!" he admitted, his resistance crumbling under her gaze.
He realized then how much she influenced him, how completely she swayed his feelings.
Her expression softened like blossoms in spring; she leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving him flustered.
"Enough, you\'re getting saliva all over me!" Logan protested half-heartedly, wiping his face but secretly pleased.
Jean giggled, the sound light and joyful.
The bystanders, three subordinates of Logan, exchanged knowing looks. Clearly, Jean had secured her place beside their future leader.
"Honestly, it\'s still too soon to meet your father," Logan reiterated firmly, hoping to convey his seriousness amidst their playful exchange.
Logan found himself at a crossroads. On one side, his duties as a tribal chief consumed his time, especially now as he explored the market for maltose, preparing to stockpile sugar should he find a buyer. On the other, he had his hands full with the winemaking process, which required his attention for distillation starting the day after tomorrow. The fermentation alone took a full week.
Moreover, within ten days, he needed to return to his tribe with gold coins to stave off any potential food shortages.
"I just met you once, and I\'m harmless," Jean teased, breaking into his thoughts with a light-hearted grin. "What are you so afraid of?"
"My father will only be around for a few days this time. If you don\'t meet him now, you might miss the chance for the rest of the year," she added, her smile widening.
It struck her as amusing that Logan, a chief who commanded the respect of nearly four thousand, could seem so hesitant. His subordinates Tyton and Cardia had described him as both majestic and imposing. Yet here he was, visibly nervous about meeting her father.
Logan mulled over her words. It seemed important to Jean, and her father did appear to be away often. Maybe it was time to face this.
"Alright, let\'s go see your father tomorrow," Logan decided, his voice carrying a newfound determination.
"Okay, I\'m going back then!" Jean exclaimed, jumping up with excitement.
"Won\'t you try this candy first?" Logan asked, amused by her enthusiasm.
"I\'d love to!" Jean responded eagerly.
Time had turned the sugar water in the pot into a thick, sticky syrup. Logan deftly used a few wooden sticks to tease out a string of the candy, demonstrating how it stretched and cooled.
"Here, try this. Be careful, it\'s still a bit hot," he cautioned, handing a piece to Jean.
Her eyes lit up with the first taste. "It\'s so sweet! And sticky!" she marveled, surprised by the delightful texture and flavor.
"This is maltose, a delicacy from ancient times," Logan explained, taking a small bite himself. It had been years since he\'d indulged in the freshly made candy, a treat from his childhood memories when he would sneak tastes of the sugar water before it turned into maltose.
Back then, such sweets were a rare joy, though not without consequence. "I had terrible teeth as a child because of it," he confessed with a chuckle.
The others, including the three Tyton orcs, tried the candy, their faces lighting up with surprise and pleasure. "So this is candy? It\'s delicious!"
Encouraged by their enjoyment, Logan continued to pull more maltose from the pot, laying it out on a wooden plate to cool. He pressed it flat, cut it into neat squares, and shared it amongst them. Watching his friends relish the candy, he felt a warm sense of nostalgia and community. He even asked Cardia to take a plate back to the others, spreading the sweet joy among his tribe.
Logan woke up with the dawn, his mind set on the day ahead. He went straight to the kitchen where he had left the maltose to cool overnight. With meticulous care, he cut the maltose into neat little pieces and wrapped several bundles in linen cloth.
Jean had told him about her family, her father had two wives, and she was one of ten siblings, though only two of her brothers would be present today as the rest were away and her sisters were still young. Considering this, he decided to prepare eight thoughtful gifts.
Despite considering other gift options, he struggled with decisions and finally settled on giving each a pack of his homemade candy, hoping the personal touch would be well-received.
...
"Is this the place? Jean\'s home?" Logan mused aloud as he arrived at his destination. He had ridden his warg, Fenrir, guided by the map Jean had provided. Before him stood the Greymane Grain Store.
Observing the bustling establishment, Logan noted the steady flow of customers. The grain store was evidently thriving, a central hub in the community. "Greymane Grain Store," he read the sign aloud, taking in the size and activity with a hint of awe.
As he and Fenrir made their presence known, their unusual appearance prompted passersby to give them a wide berth. Before long, an elderly beastman came out from the store, approaching Logan with a cautious politeness.
"Guest, are you here to buy grain?" the old werewolf inquired, eyeing Fenrir warily.
"If not, I must ask you to clear the front of our store," he added, his tone firm yet courteous.
"Actually, I\'m looking for someone. Do you know Jean?" Logan asked, hopeful this was indeed the right place.
The mention of Jean\'s name seemed to spark recognition in the beastman eyes. "Are you looking for Miss Jean?" he asked, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his voice.
"Yes, that\'s right!"
"Why are you here on your own? I was told Miss Jean was coming to fetch you," the werewolf said, just as a figure burst out of the store.
Logan turned to see Jean approaching, her face lit up with a radiant smile. Her energetic appearance brought a sense of relief and warmth to the encounter, bridging the gap between the unfamiliar surroundings and his mission.
"Why did you come so early, I was about to go pick you up"
"Aren\'t you meeting your father? It would be more sincere to come earlier," Logan remarked with a smile, hoping to ease any tension before their important meeting.
"Uncle Ke, this is my husband. Please help me take his warg to the stable and feed it," Jean quickly interjected, addressing the old beastman before tugging Logan eagerly into the grain store.
The grain store itself was vast, a bustling hub of commerce filled with the scent of fresh grain and the sound of busy trade. But beyond this, a door led them into a contrasting serenity, a grand hall that hinted at a sprawling residence beyond.
"You sit down for a while; I\'ll go find my father!" Jean said hurriedly before disappearing to fetch her father.
Logan surveyed the hall, noting its opulence and the size of the adjoining buildings, a testament to the wealth and status of Jean\'s family. As he took in his surroundings, his gaze wandering over the rich tapestries and elegant furnishings, a deep, commanding voice suddenly addressed him.
"Are you Logan?" The voice boomed, turning Logan around to face a robust middle-aged beastman whose presence was as imposing as his voice.
The beastman \'s intense gaze and the sheer aura of authority he exuded made Logan momentarily uneasy. He was looking at Lelar Greymane, Jean\'s father, who stood with the stature and confidence of a seasoned warrior.
Name: Lelar Greymane
Age: 51
Race: Wolf Beastman
Strength: Level 10 warrior (quasi-legendary)
...
Logan stiffened, resisting the overwhelming pressure emanating from Lelar, while simultaneously accessing his system interface to confirm his suspicions.
Damn it! Logan thought to himself. A tenth-level warrior, nearly legendary. The calibre of strength was astonishing, was everyone in Jean\'s family this strong?
The mixture of awe and concern played across his face as he prepared himself to make a good impression, not just as a visitor, but as a man worthy of being part of this powerful family.