SAF-1004

  Assessor: Minerva Cranberry

  Grade: Certified Assessor III

  Artifact: Gold rimmed spectacles with silica glass lenses.

  Date: 19/06/56

  Report:

  Microscopic analysis, thaumic resonance, greyscale spectra analysis, reverse runic transcription, aura analysis and practical demonstration all utilized to identify the type and function of the enchantment on the artifact. All tests, save the practical demonstration, yielded negative results. Tests were repeated three times with consistent results.

  Final Analysis:

  Despite clearly lacking runic etchings of any kind, the examined artifact is capable of identifying items and people placed in front of it with no observable errors. Moreover, no mana expenditure was observed during practical testing, and the lack of a mana input did not hinder the artefacts function in any way. It is the opinion of this assessor that the artifact should be acquired by the guild as soon as funds become available.

  Attached Personal Note:

  I’m going to say this only once. Buy this thing. Don’t be stingy, don’t be clever, don’t drag your heels. Buy. It. How much? You could mortgage the whole of the university and not be able to afford this thing. The question you should be asking though is; can you afford someone else having this?

  -Final report of Minerva Cranberry-

  Would it be too much to ask for a fucking admissions office? Joe grumbled to himself as he did another loop of the grounds. Fifteen minutes ago he’d been so certain in his ability to find the room he was looking for. In that timeframe, the next period must have started as everyone had disappeared from the common spaces Joe found himself in. There were plenty in classrooms, but any time he'd tried to ask for directions he’d only gotten dirty looks and pointed comments.

  Heaven forbid anyone gets lost I guess. Joe’s original idea that the cathedral-like building in the center had to be the sought after building A had turned out to be wrong. It had turnout to be, somewhat confusingly, the ‘main’ building. Which you would think, Joe grumbled as he stomped his way past a rather pleasant little fountain, would mean that the building on the outer wall would be the lettered buildings, but they start with ‘E’ and go down there for some gods damned reason.

  As Joe got beyond the chest high edge marking out the courtyard the fountain sat in, he saw his salvation in the form of an elderly pik goblin. The little creature was hobbling along with the assistance of a minuscule cane, making about the same headway as a dry snail. Let’s see if Yoda here is willing to help. The comparison may have been apt, but it was hardly fair to the diminutive goblinoid.

  Pik goblins all looked like moz’s that had been shrunk in the wash, possessing shorter features while maintaining the same thickness as their slightly taller brethren. They were also nearly completely hairless. The only exception being the tufted of hair at the tip of their short tails. This one was dressed in loose robes that obscured everything save their face, which was itself hidden behind a set of thick spectacles.

  The pik goblin stopped in its slow walk once they became aware of Joe and what direction he was heading in. “Erm, excuse me,” Joe said, not sure how exactly to address the pik, “sir.”

  “Ma’am” she corrected him, her crackling froggish voice holding no reproach in its tone.

  “I’m sorry ma’am. I’m lost and need some help finding room A115. You wouldn’t be able to help me find it would you?”

  The pik smiled and nodded. “Of course,” she rasped, “I’ve got nowhere else to be for now. There’s just one thing I ask in return.” Joe nodded and she continued. “I’m not as spry as I used to be and the campus wasn’t designed for someone of my stature. Would you be willing to carry me?”

  Joe had to clamp down on himself to stop from laughing as a certain swamp scene ran through his head. Instead he gave the little pik his own smile and not. “That sounds fair. How would you like to be carried?”

  <><><>

  It turned out that the A wing wasn’t accessible via the main courtyard. Instead, whatever shut-in genius that had drawn up the original blueprints had decided the corner towers were going to be buildings A through D and only accessible via their adjoining buildings. The pik, who Joe learned was named Mrs.Cranberry, guided him down first one then another winding hallway.

  “The towers were meant to be repositories for the university's important documents and items,” she croaked into Joe’s ear. They had decided that piggy back style would be the most dignified way for Joe to carry Mrs.Cranberry. She weighed next to nothing, so Joe was easily able to carry her that way. “Building A holds the vaults, B is administrative records, C and D are the mundane and mystic libraries.” Mrs.Cranberry cocked a bald eyebrow at Joe. “What brings you to building A?”

  “I’ve got, an appointment.” As genial as the little pik was, Joe wasn’t ready to open up to her. He needn’t have bothered trying to hide anything however, as Mrs.Cranberry was as sharp as a barber's razor.

  She hummed a few bars of nothing in particular before tapping her chin. “An appointment? In the vaults? Not many reasons I can think of for a person to have that.” Joe could just see her inspecting his face out of the corner of his eye. “I doubt you’ve taken up thaumiturgic research while waiting for your shop to get rebuilt.”

  Joe almost dropped her in surprise, which would have been particularly bad as they were ascending a staircase at that moment. “How did you-”

  “I’m old, not blind. I’ve been in your chemist shop more than once and it’s hard to miss news about a fire.”

  “True,” Joe wasn’t entirely comfortable with being so easily identified, but she had a point. He was the only chemist in town and nearly everyone in Academyway came through his shop on a regular basis. While that was far too many people for him to remember everyone, there was no reason that an observant customer wouldn’t recognize him.

  “You haven’t answered my question, turn here.” Mrs.Cranberry pointed with her knobbly stick and Joe slipped down the indicated hallway. “If you’re not here for research, it means you’re having something looked at for valuation.” Her tone took on a weedling timbre. “Come on, you can tell old Mrs.Cranberry what you found.”

  Paul’s words came back to Joe. She’s a sweet old lady, but the fewer people that know about the tutorial specs the better. Out loud Joe said, “I’m sorry Mrs.Cranberry, but I’m just not one to kiss and tell.” He hoped a bit of humor would defuse any lingering bad feelings over him rebuffing her again.

  The little pik let out a laugh about twice her size. “Well if that isn’t just the most scandalous thing to say to an old woman. Anyway, we’re here so let me down.”

  Joe knelt, allowing the little pik to slide off his back with the minimum amount of distance between her and the floor. Once she was down Mrs.Cranberry took a moment to arrange herself before looking back up at Joe. “Well, shall we?” before Joe could answer she turned and walked inside. Joe was left standing in the hall, more than a little surprised by recent developments. Once he got his feet back under himself, he followed Mrs.Cranberry into room 115A.

  The room was small, its two flat walls no more than ten feet long. In place of the other two walls, one curving one connected the two others together like a round bottomed triangle. The space was made even tighter by the inclusion of far too many shelves, side tables, and tool racks, all holding reference books and instruments of unknown purpose. Arlowe stood pressed into one corner, his bulk clearly ill suited for the tight confines of the room. Mrs.Cranberry was also there, but contributed little to the lack of space.

  Arlow waved to Joe when he entered. “Just in time, Assessor Cranberry just got here.”

  “It’s not that surprising really.” The little pik commented as she shoved a stepladder towards the central table. “The young man gave me a lift from the courtyard. You’da all been waiting another twenty minutes if he hadn’t.”

  Arlowe tried to step forward to help, but his great hammer clipped a bookcase which wobbled alarmingly and he was forced to stop.

  “You stay right where you are, you big lump.” Mrs.Cranberry scolded, “I’m more than capable of doing this myself.” Another good shove got the obstinate stepladder into position and she used it to climb up onto the table. Turning to Joe, Mrs.Cranberry rubbed her hands together and smiled. “Alright, then, let’s see what you brought me.”

  Before Joe retrieved his tutorial specs, there was something he had to ask. “Why didn't you tell me you were the assessor?”

  Mrs.Cranberry shrugged, her smile turning mischievous. “Why not? An old lady has so few pleasures left she can get from a young man, why deny myself a bit of fun.” She gave him a huge wink, “I will admit, you’re a better ride than my husband ever was.”

  Arlow cleared his throat from his corner, not quite able to look at Joe. “Assessor Cranberry, if you could keep this professional please?”

  “Oh alright,” the pik huffed, “let’s see what it is you brought me. It had better be something good to justify coming all this way.”

  Joe refrained from pointing out that he had carried her ‘all this way’. He retrieved the tutorial specs from where he’d tucked them into his tunic and passed them to Mrs.Cranberrry.

  “Hmph, not much to look at,” she commented as she pulled them from their cloth bag.

  “Is that an issue?” Despite not taking part in their creation, Joe couldn’t help but feel more than a little slighted by the comment. Mrs.Cranberry retrieved a loupe from under her shawl and inspected one of the arms closely.

  “Not really," she said idly, “generally speaking the more ornate something is the more suspect it is. Fraudsters and amateurs love glitter as much as croarks do. It’s honestly refreshing to see something with some subtlety.” She rubbed a tiny thumb against the glasses arm and herumphed again. The loop was exchanged for a square of cloth that was buffed against the lenses. She then held them up to the light coming in through the window and squinted. The cloth was exchanged for the loupe and the lenses were examined again.

  “Well fine then.” she muttered under her breath. The little pik turned to Arlowe, before seeming to think better of it and address Joe instead. “See that thing on the shelf, the one that looks like a tilted pipe on a base?” She pointed at what Joe realized was a microscope set in a boxy wooden frame. It was wedged between a vice with teeth and a set of tuning forks.

  He retrieved it for Mrs.Cranberry, returning to find the pik on her knees rummaging through a drawer on the side of the table. “Just set it down anywhere,” she said without looking. Joe thought for a moment, before setting the microscope more towards the center of the table than right next to her.

  With a grunt of satisfaction, Mrs.Cranberry stood up holding a thin, flexible knife. She hobbled over to the microscope and slid the tutorial specs into the box where a set of adjustable brass clamps held it in place. Once it was set to her liking, she began running the blade of the knife along first the arms, then the lenses of the glasses. Whatever it was meant to do it clearly wasn’t, which frustrated the pik assessor. She shot Joe a hard look before retrieving the glasses.

  “It is my opinion as a grade three guild assessor,” she said, turning to address Arelowe, “That these spectacles possess no discernible runework anywhere on them.”

  Joe may not have used the enchanting skillbook, but even his homespun learning knew what that meant.

  It meant Mrs.Cranberry was saying the glasses were fake.

  “I can assure you,” Joe said, doing his best to keep his tone level “that they do work.”

  “Without runes?” Mrs.Cranberry asked pointedly.

  “While I have never been able to figure out where the runes are, I can say with full confidence that they do work.” It wasn’t technically a lie, Joe had never been able to find runework on the tutorial specs. The fact that this was because he’d never bothered to look needn’t be mentioned.

  Mrs.Cranberry looked dubious, but didn’t contradict him. Instead she turned them over a few times in her hands, silently inspecting the glasses for a moment before responding. “Alright then. How do you use them?”

  “Just put them on and look at something.” Joe’s comment got a snort from the little pik.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “No activation gesture? No incantation?”

  “Nope, they just work.” Joe shrugged, matching the pik’s skeptical look with a bland one of his own.

  Mrs.Cranberry shrugged, then held the oversized glasses in front of her eyes. The distance between their lenses was too large for her to comfortably rest them on her tiny nose and see through, so she picked a lens and closed the other eye.

  “Now just, look at something.” Joe instructed, gesturing vaguely at the tool lined shelves around them. Mrs.Cranberry did as instructed, her eyes bugging almost immediately. “Gods above!” The little pik turned this way and that, seeming intent on using the tutorial specs on everything in the room.

  “What’s it like?” Arlowe asked from his corner. Mrs Cranberry turned to address him, and swore again.

  Ah, I bet she just found out they identify people too. Joe tried not to smirk. Back on the table Mrs.Cranberry had whipped the glasses off and was examining them under the microscope. She swapped out the focusing lenses several times, quietly swearing to herself when each one proved to be insufficient to find what she was looking for.

  Over the top of her head Joe caught Arlowe’s eyes. The big minotaur gave him an even bigger wink, a smile playing across his muzzle. “You said it also doesn’t require recharging either, right?” Arlowe asked. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Joe could hear the mirth tinkling in the background.

  Mrs.Cranberry’s head snapped up. “It what?”

  “Well I’ve never had to charge them.” Joe clarified, “and I’ve been using them fairly regularly for months now.”

  Joe watched as Mrs.Cranberry tried instrument after instrument of increasing complexity, each one requested with slightly more exasperation than the last. There was no clock in the room, but he was sure it had to have been a few hours at least when Mrs.Cranberry straightened up and threw her hands into the air.

  “I give up, by all the known laws of magic these things should not work!” She thrust both fists into her hips and glared at Joe. “Where by all the gods did you find them?”

  “About that,” Joe looked over at Arlowe. “I think part of the sale is going to be some sort of agreement of anonymity.” When the room's two other occupants looked quizzically at him Joe clarified. “Where I got it from doesn’t matter. I can’t get back there and even if I could, there’s nothing else like these there. I don’t want my name associated with them in any way. The guild can say they got them wherever they like, just leave me and my family out of it.”

  Mrs.Cranberry looked surprised, but off in his corner Arlowe nodded in understanding. “I think that can be arranged.” Tucking his warhammer tight to his body and moving slowly, Arlowe extracted himself from the corner and made his way to the table. “Do we have your approval to go ahead with the purchase?” he asked Mrs.Cranberry.

  The little pik blew a sigh out her nose and glared down at the tutorial specs like they’d just farted in her hand. “Yes, but gods alone know what we could offer him of equivalent value.” She rolled her eyes and slipped them back into their soft bag. “We need to buy these, if for no other reason than to figure out how they work. We could be looking at a whole new branch of magic.”

  Arlowe looked up at Joe. “Would you be willing to-”

  “Absolutely not.” Joe interrupted. He softened his comment with a smile. “Sorry Arlowe, but until I get Crystal back, the glasses stay with me.”

  “Understandable, but you know I had to ask.” Arlowe nodded at Mrs.Cranberry who passed the bag back to Joe.

  Joe took a moment to secure the bag back under his tunic. “How long do you think it’ll take to get this finished?”

  “Once Assessor Cranberry submits her report? Not long.” Arlowe scratched the side of his nose, seeming somewhat embarrassed. “I do home once this is all sorted out you could perhaps bring Crystal by now and then. Tex has gotten pretty fond of her and I hate to see him sad.”

  <><><>

  Joe stayed long enough to help put all the equipment away before he left. He didn’t need to help Mrs.Cranberry back down the stairs as Arlowe promised to do that for him. Joe left the university feeling lighter than he had in weeks. His shop was finally going to be rebuilt, and soon his cub would be back where she belonged. Maybe we’ll have the wedding in the front part of the shop once it gets finished. The thought caught him off guard, and he found himself dipping his fingers into his money pouch to touch the rings.

  I haven’t even proposed to her yet and here I am planning the wedding. Then again, if what Merrie told me is true the proposal is really just a formality at this point. Joe extracted one of the rings and held it in his palm. If he looked hard enough, Joe could still see what was left of the callous that had sat under his first wedding ring. I hope you don’t mind me putting another one on Marry. Joe shook himself and pocketed the ring. No, not going to start spiraling again. Let’s just think of something fun, like how I’ll actually propose.

  Joe let his mind wander off while his feet took him back home. Focusing on something positive helped his mood substantially. His enthusiasm wasn’t even dampened when he suddenly realized Minsk was walking beside him. Joe quirked an inquiring eyebrow at him.

  “I am going to pick up Sarah and take her to lunch.” Minsk’s tone wasn’t quite a growl, but it sounded like it wanted to be.

  Joe nodded, he decided to be charitable to the other man and added; “ she really likes your visits”

  Minsk’s ears popped up from where they had been laying flat against his head, “really?”

  “Yeah, she’s happy to have you back.” Joe looked up at Minsk. The c’thal had a shocked, almost pleading look on his face. “We hear about all the stories you tell her when she gets back. She wants to go to the university when she’s older.”

  “It’s a hard life adventuring.” For the first time since Joe had met him, Minsk sounded unsure of himself. “Constantly on the road, putting yourself in danger to earn just enough money to do it all over again. Never staying anywhere or with anyone.” Minsk heaved a sigh. “It’s the kind of life that only appeals to the young.”

  A petty little part of Joe thought; well it was your choice to leave. It’s a little late to be regretting it now. He suppressed it, not wanting to ruin a potentially mending bridge for the sake of a bit of spite. Instead he said, “it’s a long way off. Who knows what she’ll decide to do in the end. It’s really not up to us.”

  “No,” Minsk actually chuckled, “I can already tell Sarah is taking after her mom, thank the gods. I doubt any of us will be able to tell her what to do for much longer.”

  Silence stretched on after that comment. Not an uncomfortable, awkward silence, but a thoughtful one. One in which Joe pondered the meaning of Minsk’s words.

  They arrived at Fairchild Foundry still wrapped in that silence. It wasn’t even broken as they parted, the two merely nodding to each other with Minsk going upstairs and Joe sliding in behind the tables to relieve Moira so she could go upstairs too. Gretta must have been on break as the young orc was nowhere to be seen.

  Joe kept himself busy between customers by filling holes on the table with new stock and tidying up the walking path behind the tables. Not long after going up, Moira and Minsk came back down with Sarah skipping along in the lead. The little cat girl gave her mother a hug and a kiss, then took her fathers hand and headed off.

  Joe waited until they were out of earshot before making a comment. “Well, I didn’t hear any yelling or screaming so I assume it all went well?”

  Moira turned from where she’d been watching the pair disappear around the corner and nodded. “Downright civil actually. He seemed pretty thoughtful for some reason.”

  “Probably because I told him how much Sarah has been enjoying their little lunch dates.” Joe moved over to allow Moira to take up her space behind the tables. He didn’t get far though as Moira caught him around the middle and hauled him back to her.

  “Where do you think you’re going handsome?” she asked with a smile on her face.

  “Nowhere,” Joe responded before leaning down for a kiss.

  A gasp behind them made the two lovers separate to see who the culprit was. Gretta stood there, eyes fairly gleaming with excitement. “Did he propose?!” She practically skipped in place.

  Joe’s heart sank. Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag.

  “No, we were just kissing.” Moira gave Joe a squeeze and smiled up at him. “She’d already spoiled it by the way. You don’t think I’d notice when my apprentice suddenly starts acting like the kobold that got the pie?”

  “Sorry Joe,” Gretta apologized with a wince, “I’m not the best actor.”

  “It’s ok,” Joe was unable to keep the huff out of his voice but soldiered on. “At least I now know Moira would say yes.”

  “Were you really in doubt that I would?” Moira leaned back slightly, looking up at Joe. He leaned down and kissed her on the nose.

  “No, I mean, I really hoped not.”

  “Tell you what,” Gretta cut in, “how about I watch Sarah tonight and the two of you go have a fancy dinner. You can do the whole proposal thing there, really make it special.” her mouth split into a silvery grin. “Hey maybe you can even swing a free meal out of it if you make it obvious enough.” The idea gave all three of them a good laugh, and dinner plans were quickly decided on.

  <><><>

  Joe pushed the door open to Hornsforward Barbers and looked around. The proprietor didn't seem to be in at the moment, but a little card folded neatly on the chair told JOe he had just stepped out for a moment and to make himself comfortable. Joe moved the card to the counter and sat. While he waited, Joe amused himself by counting the number of “modern” things that had been recreated in the little shop with magical equivalents. He’d gotten to twelve when the stryra came in through the back door.

  “Ah Joseph! So good to see you here for me instead of my wife.”

  Joe chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve got an important dinner date with Moira coming up and I want to not look like someone that just stumbled out of the woods.”

  Mr.Hornsforward came over and turned JOe’s chair around to face the big mirror over the counter. “Oh you’re not quite there yet.” he said, giving Joe’s unruly hair a quick finger comb. “You’re just giving me plenty to work with.” Joe laughed, but did his best to hold still for the styra. Mr.Hornsforward fluffed Joe’s hair a little more, turning his head this way and that as if trying to decide what to do with it all. “Any idea what you’re looking for?” he asked before tacking on, “besides ‘not feral’?”

  “Not really,” Joe mumbled. Having someone run their fingers through his hair always made Joe sleepy, and he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open now. “Do whatever you think will look best.”

  Mr.Hornsforward chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

  <><><>

  “I don’t think Moira’s going to recognize me.” Joe said, mild awe tinting his voice. There had apparently been quite a lot of Joe hidden under all that hair. While Joe had never really thought of himself as good looking, he had to admit that what Mr.Hornsforward had done for him had made a vast improvement.

  He’d cut Joe down short on the sides, leaving just enough on the top to style in a feathery swept back look. His beard had been shorn down, losing most of the poof he’d had to fight back with a comb. Now it clung closely to features, highlighting the shape of his jawline instead of obscuring it. Joe had to keep touching his face, just to make sure it was him in the mirror.

  “I’ll take it by your reaction that you like it?” Mr.Hornsforward laughed. “Do me a favor Joe, and don’t let it get that long again.”

  “Yeah sorry,” Joe said, looking a little sheepish, “Just don’t ever look at myself so it’s not something I think about.” Joe paid the styra with the last of ‘his’ money and headed out. He’d have liked to pay for dinner and some flowers as well, but Joe just couldn’t bring himself to ask anyone for money. He just had to hope the haircut was good enough.

  <><><>

  It turned out to be more than good enough. Gretta spotted him first. Her wolf whistle made Joe feel very self conscious, but before he could do anything Moira turned around. The stout blacksmith did a double take before her face, neck and chest turned a bright red.

  “Hey” Joe said suavely. Gods she’s pretty.

  “Hey” was Moira’s equally intelligent answer.

  “Do you, want to get dinner with me?” Joe asked, a small smile peaking out around his lips.

  <><><>

  The Hitching Post wouldn’t have been Joe’s first voice, but it had the perfect combination of good food, and actually being open. Joe held the door for Moira, who was unprepared for the covert smack to the posterior as she went by. She tried to swat at his hand, but Joe’d already moved by the time she tried.

  “Behave.”

  “Not on your life.” Joe took her by the hand and led her to a corner booth. It was still in view of everyone else in the seating area, but it was about as private as they were going to get. Despite being fully aware of how this was going to go, Joe’s stomach was doing flips as they crossed the distance. When should I ask? If I do it at the beginning it feels a bit too soon, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait until the end. He pulled out Moira’s chair for her as his mind kept chasing its own tail.

  “Thanks Joe.” Moria kissed his cheek before sitting down. She picked up the menu and perused it while Joe got himself situated. “So,” MOira drawled, looking over her menu at him. “Anything look good to you? Besides me.”

  Joe closed his mouth and smiled at her. “No fair.”

  “Well get some new material.”

  Joe stuck out his tongue to which Moira, being a mature woman, did the same.

  “So how do you want to do this? If you wait till the end to purpose we might get the meal for free.” Moira said, mischief tinkling in her voice.

  Joe spluttered into his water. “Well alright then,” he coughed a few times to clear his throat. “Am I just a free meal to you?” He made sure to pitch the question with enough mock indignation that she knew he was just kidding.

  “Oh no, you do a decent job warming my bed too.”

  “‘Decent’? Excuse me, I think I do a lot better than ‘decent’!”

  Moira set her menu down and leaned back, steepling her fingers in front of herself. “Well ok, let’s say ‘satisfactory then.” Joe put his hand to his heart and sighed dramatically. They managed to maintain their relative poses for only a few seconds longer before they broke into fits of laughter.

  Joe reached out and took Moira’s hand. He gave it a squeeze which she returned. “I love you.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but that didn’t make the statement untrue.

  “I love you too.” Moira said, emphasising the point with another gentle squeeze.

  “When I came here, I never really planned on falling in love.” Joe continued, “but then I met you.”

  “And I swept you off your feet?” Moira said sweetly.

  “From the moment I first saw you.”

  “Oh come on,” Moira blushed a little. “I was probably covered in sweat and coal dust.”

  “No, you were coming down the stairs. I think you were doing something with Sarah at the time.” Joe couldn’t but stare deeply into Moira’s eyes, even as they filled with a bit of surprise at Joe’s statement.

  “You actually remember what I was doing?” Moira said incredulously.

  “Of course.” Joe smiled and gave Moira’s hand another squeeze. “It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.” Moira snorted in disbelief, but Joe could see the blush spreading across her face.

  “You are a shameless flatterer Joseph Alderbright.”

  “Only for you.” Joe picked up Moira’s hand and gave it a kiss. He stayed there, locked in her eyes for what felt like ages. Eventually however, they had to blink and that broke the spell. Well, there’s no time like the present. Joe glanced around at the other diners. While the dinner rush was in full swing, everyone else seemed absorbed in their own affairs. Before he could second guess himself, Joe slipped out of his chair and got onto one knee.

  Moira sat back, seeming to be confused by what he was doing. Well there’s another thing I guess they don’t do. Oh well, too late now.

  “Moira, I’m not really the best with long speeches.” Joe pulled out one of the rings and presented it to her. “So I’m just going to come out and say it. Will you marry me?”