Saavik sat as formidable and unyielding as if she were in the command chair of her starship, rather than in her own formal sitting room. Her space black stare seemed to pierce into his very soul.

And find him abysmally lacking.

Sahlas felt truly . . . ill.

Around them, the great estate was utterly silent, save for the unrelenting swinging sound of the Earth grandfather clock, and he was sure she could hear his heart pounding loud in his side.

A Vulcan should not be afraid.

But he was.

His life was in her power.

And though not a single expression crossed her face-as was only proper for a woman of her prestige and House-there was absolutely no mistaking her righteous cold anger.

He was an unwelcome surprise and he knew it.

His beloved and he had kept their courting severely private from all but themselves. The abject secrecy had seemed true wisdom at the time given the dramatic difference between their Houses and the ever watching eyes of enemies and reporters who hunted her line so ruthlessly because of the influence throughout worlds of her esteemed parents and grandparents.

Now, however, it could prove the destruction of their future.

For they had actually caught Saavik entirely off-guard.

And she was not taking his unexpected revelation well.

At all.

And for the first time in his adult life, with all his Vulcan control, he felt true fear.

"Humor me," she said at last, in deadly iced quiet tones. "Repeat your question."

He swallowed hard, keeping his face perfectly Disciplined, and obeyed. "May I have permission to . . . approach your daughter for bonding, Lady?"

And now genuinely wished he was looking unarmed into a le-matya's murderous stare instead of hers. He calculated with a primal shiver to his very katra that he would have a significantly greater chance at escaping intact.

He held very, very still.

"I am untitled, you will retain the fact."

He focused on trying to restrain his escalating heart rate. "I ask forgiveness."

Saavik's hands tightened on the carved arms of the black with age chair. "And which daughter?"

His throat felt so tight now that it took him a few moments to force out the words. "T'Kel, ma'am."

She actually blinked in added shock and he winced hard internally as outright disbelief broke sharply through her frozen hard tones. "T'Kel? Why-how T'Kel?"

Even for his beloved, he could not honestly find offense in her own mother's outright disbelief. T'Kel was most certainly not her swiftly rising diplomat sister. She preferred extended solitude, the better he knew to work her brilliant engineering designs with their intricate complexities and absolute edge of sciences. His beloved had no patience for even the most minor of interruptions to her all encompassing work and had obviously inherited he saw all too personally now her mother's well known zero tolerance level of perceived fools and the combination had kept her firmly isolated.

How he had managed to earn her attention, let alone her actual love, was surely beyond even Gol's greatest minds' comprehension. So how could he prove now what he did not know even now?

He opened his mouth to reluctantly admit this failure and made the mistake of looking up directly into Saavik's fiercely intent eyes. It turned the logistical rational portion of his mind completely off and what came out of his mouth instead was what he . . . felt.

"I . . . we . . . just . . . somehow . . . became."

Saavik stilled entirely. Very, very slowly she tilted her head and her sharp eyes studied him . . . was that differently?

"And does T'Kel share this . . . concept?"

He had to swallow a few times to get his tongue moist enough to allow again the formation of words. "Yes." And he felt inside once more that almost . . . awe . . . that came with the proven knowledge of that amazing truth.

"And you believe that this makes you now somehow a suitable life bond match for my daughter?"

He met her challenge honestly. "No . . . no, I do not."

Saavik's eyes narrowed. "Indeed? Then why, pray tell, are you troubling me at all?"

He shifted uneasily in place.

How did a proper Vulcan man say that it was because he loved her? That it was because she loved him? That somehow they could no longer see themselves without the other? That T'Kel found her work empty now if she could not lift her eyes to seem him? And that the thought of a life without her seemed . . . as good as death to him?

How did a proper Vulcan man tell a mother that when he was with her daughter, he knew what it was at last to truly live?

Desperately, he reached for the Teachings.

"Surak . . . taught that we are to seek out our life's improvement."

But apparently even the Great Teacher's words did not convey what he meant now and she iced over instantly hard against him again.

"Then this is an attempt to increase the social state of your Family House."

Genuinely dismayed, he shook his head. "No! I-"

"Then explain."

He caught himself trying to swallow again and again and forced himself to stop. He took a deep breath and Centered himself, trying to find the words which kept to a Vulcan's proper state but which still could reveal his heart. "I know that . . . she is . . . more than I have right to seek," he began.

Saavik gave an almost angry thrust of her hand. "Obviously. And yet you dare to seek still. Why? Tell me why?"

He tried again to put his thoughts into words, wishing truly now that he had her other daughter's exquisite skill with speaking. "Since T'Kel, I truly . . . am."

She was silent long agonizing minutes, and then Saavik leaned forward and stared brutally into his eyes. "And what are you?"

"I-"

"Your House, while not lacking in honor, is of entirely no repute. Your achievements in your duties on board ship, though without recorded demerit, are of absolutely no particular notice. And you, yourself, while demonstrating here your . . . sincerity . . . in seeking T'Kel, are yet of no acknowledged esteem to anyone. Is this not true? Is this not true?"

He lowered his head, feeling a bitter cold soul engulfing despair. It was lost. They were lost. "It is," he confessed quietly, his voice hoarse.

"Then where is the logic to my acceptance of your proposition?"

He looked up into the unrelenting final judgment of her eyes and at last told his secret truth. "There is none. What is between us is not . . . logic."

Utter freezing silence stood between them.

Then Saavik breathed out long and hard and leaned back into her chair. "Then you have my permission."

He did not know how long he sat there before his brain finally actually processed what she had said.

And at last realized that her previously frozen hard unyielding eyes had softened and warmed.

"I . . . I . . . beg your pardon?"

Something that looked actually like . . . was that . . . amusement? . . . glinted in her eyes.

"Sahlas, the Vulcan soul is more than logic. It is truth. I have seen your truth now and find it . . . pleasing." Saavik inclined her head formally to him. "Therefore, I give permission."

He felt . . . dazed. He had his beloved? "I . . . have permission?"

The light in her eyes brightened and he realized that it was definitely amusement. It . . . astounded him completely. What . . . what had happened here? How had he . . . won over this Saavik?

"Yes."

He tried to gather his scattered mind. "My . . . my gratitude, La—ma'am."

He couldn't seem to focus at all now and he wondered if this meant that he was in some sort of physiological shock. He wanted to leave quickly, to find T'Kel. To tell her he had somehow gotten what they had both feared would be impossible.

Yet, even more than that, he realized now that he still wanted-no had-to know what had made a woman as formidable as Saavik accept him.

He made himself meet her eyes again and dared again. "But . . . but why?"

But she took no honor offense at his apparent unacceptance of her answer. Instead, her mouth now twitched and she looked even more favorably upon him.

He did not understand at all.

"Sahlas, repute, achievements, and esteem can by earned. Though in truth, they matter little and prove a man's worthiness not at all. Only the heart can manage the feat of that."

Then her face hardened dangerously cold once more. "And Sahlas?"

He nodded numbly. "Yes, ma'am?"

"If you and T'Kel ever surprise me again in this sort of manner, it will not go well with either of you. Is that profoundly and simply clear?"

And the Romulan that was still inside of her leaned forward into her eyes and looked at him.

He swallowed hard and knew he paled. "Yes, ma'am!"

Saavik nodded once and then rose smoothly. "Now, come and have a strong tea with me." Her eyes glinted darkly. "You look like you need it."