Chapter 3

Galahad uncharacteristically insisted on taking the Underworld channels and leaving from a mainland exit. He claimed it was so Te’ijal could drop off the soul pendant, but she suspected it was actually so he could mope. He’d been laying on top of his bed, not even sleeping, for hours. She sat down gingerly beside him and twisted her head over her shoulder to look at him.

"Now, partridge, I know you’re not that tired from digging pits and walking."

He pinched at his temple. "If we had to go to Thais anyways," he said, voice heavy with exasperation, "we could have avoided this entire ordeal."

"Well, it’s probably for the best we didn’t leave the soul pendant buried in the woods for some amateur archaeologist to dig up," Te’ijal said. "So, what’s our plan of attack? I am afraid I am only familiar with Thais’s policies around annulment."

"We simply say we would like a divorce, and our marriage will end."

Te’ijal blinked. Somehow she didn’t think it’d be that easy. "…And that’s all?"

"Thais," Galahad said, "has the most generous and flexible divorce laws in all of the Mainland, and much of Aia."

"I see. If you researched it so thoroughly, why not start there?"

Galahad closed his eyes. "I did not research. I simply happened to know it. They were installed by Queen Rhen Pendragon, who had witnessed multiple forced marriages, so that they could be ended swiftly."

Wait a second. "You mean to tell me," Te'ijal said, surprised by the discomfort twisting in her stomach, "that Rhen invented divorce because of us?"

"No," Galahad said, then frowned. "Well. Not entirely. She also intended for John to end his union with Elini." The ghost of a laugh crossed his face. "He took her up on it. I, as you may have noticed, did not."

"Well, why didn’t you?”

"I had made a promise to you. I felt an obligation to follow that commitment."

"But not anymore." She resisted the urge to ask what had changed.

Galahad sighed. "No," he said. "Not anymore."

"Hello, Te’ijal Ravenfoot-Teomes and Galahad Teomes? Why don’t you follow me."

This clerk was a short, spectacled man with light brown skin and dark blue hair trimmed neatly around his ears. He introduced himself as Ravi as he walked them to his office.

"Please, each of you take a seat. I know it can be difficult, but do try to make yourselves comfortable."

Galahad sat rigidly in one of the armchairs provided. Te’ijal, in a better manner of following directions, tossed her legs over the armrest of hers.

"So, it says here that you’re filing for divorce. I see you’re both here today, so neither of you contest it?" When they both shook their heads, he hummed slightly. "Good, that’s always good. Certainly simplifies things. May I just see your marriage contract?"

"Our marriage contract," Te’ijal repeated, eyes darting over to Galahad.

Holding onto legal documents had never been Te’ijal’s strong suit. She had, in fact, forgotten her own death certificate and locked herself out of the Underworld. Multiple times. Galahad was better about it. Usually. She looked at him expectantly.

"If you did not bring it," he said, after some deliberation, "it is not here."

"Why would I bring it? You’re the one who carried it around in your pocket!"

"You told me to stop doing that. I assumed that meant you had a better plan."

"Yes, like bringing it in a bag, or tucked inside a book-"

"Which it would seem you failed to do."

Te’ijal sighed. She swiveled her head back to the clerk.

He sighed, too. "I see. Well, I’m afraid we’ll need it to proceed any further, so why don’t we schedule a new appointment and see if one of you can remember it then?"