ten
“Goodness,” Mira said once they settled at the short table in the barn loft. “I should have known this was what you had in mind.”
Sulim left their coats dangling over the edge of the loft, water droplets forming tiny puddles on the floor far below.
Despite wearing a hood, her hair was still wet when she climbed up here, kicking off her muddy boots behind her.
But once the outerwear was shed, she and Mira were a cozy picture in the loft, where the rain continued to lightly streak against the window.
“Sorry. This is the only place shielded from the elements.”
The other option was a large shed on the other side of the property.
Sometimes, Sulim hung out there when she needed a moment to herself.
Communicator reception is good there, too.
Perfect place to call her family back on Qahrain for a check-in.
She had the foresight to bring some tea in two thermoses. The contents were still hot when she presented Mira with hers and raided a snack stash in one of her insulated cupboards. Her guest did not hesitate to take a sip of citrusy tea and a bit of salty crackers.
“So…” Mira began, mouth full. “What’s got you upset today? You seemed perfectly content with my mother’s sermon earlier.”
Sulim had already forgotten about that. “Nothing in particular.”
“Oh, come on. I’m not going to take that as an answer. At least make something up if you don’t want to tell me the truth.”
Sulim folded her arms on the table, ignoring her drink as she kicked her legs out to the side. Her left foot was dangerously close to Mira’s leg, and she tried not to think about it.
“My mother-in-law was all up in my business, and I’m about to scream.”
“I see. Let me guess…” Mira’s eyes glazed over as she nibbled a cracker and stared out the window. “Something about you being a childless spinster locked into marriage with her son.”
The wind was nearly knocked from Sulim’s lungs. “How did you know?”
“’Cause she was whining to my mom about it before you got all upset.”
“Hmph. No wonder she told me to seek Lady Joiya’s counsel.”
Mira snorted before coughing on cracker crumbs. After a sip of tea, she said, “About what? How to get pregnant? Humans do that better than us, so you don’t need her telling you how to get knocked up.”
Sulim blushed. She didn’t want to show her embarrassment like that, but she couldn’t help it. I don’t want her to acknowledge my husband right now. Why? Well, Sulim didn’t want to think about him, either. Why? Because there were other things she’d rather think about.
Like the woman sitting next to her.
“I know how to do that, yes. But she…” She referred to Jacelah without finishing.
“Hmm, she doesn’t know the truth about you and your husband.”
She said that with such confidence! What kind of third eye did these sorcerers have, anyway? “What truth?” Sulim tested.
Mira almost looked offended. “That you’re more like siblings than husband and wife.”
She cut straight through to something so deep that Sulim couldn’t be bothered. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that. It’s more like…”
“Best friends with no benefits?”
“Good Void… why is it everyone’s business?”
“Because you’re the heir’s young wife. You only have one job in this family.” Mira wiggled her brows as if she knew that role quite intimately. “Babies. Babies, babies, babies.”
“Say that word one more time.”
Mira giggled. “Oh, babies.”
Sulim shook her head.
“You don’t strike me as the maternal type, though.”
“Not really. It’s never suited me.”
“You’ve already raised kids, I bet.”
How deep did her knowledge really go? “Not quite, but maybe? I was the oldest by a couple of years. I didn’t have to help much with my male cousin, but when my aunt had her daughters several years later, a lot of their minding fell on me.”
“I bet.”
“What makes you say all this?”
Mira leaned her elbow against the table, hand cupping her cheek.
“I’ve spent a few years studying people and what makes them tick. Don’t have much else to do anymore. Anyway, you seem to be between a rock and a hard place. Why don’t you let me try counseling you instead of my mother? She would just give you weird platitudes that don’t really mean anything.”
Sulim’s mouth twitched. “What kind of advice would you have to give me, huh?”
“Well, first, I need to know the whole story. And it would depend on whether you want the Temple’s point of view on these things, or my personal opinion.”
“Dare I ask how heavy your opinion is?”
“Let’s just say I think you’d like my personal take more than what the Temple would have to say, even if it were in your favor.”
“And what favor is that?”
Mira was more than mildly amused—she practically beamed when asked that. “That you should do whatever gives you spiritual joy and brings you closer to peace with the Void. It’s what the unknown creator wants from us.”
“And your personal opinion?”
“Again, I would have to know the whole story.”
Sulim debated that. As nice as it would be to open up to a neutral third party, she also didn’t want to burden Mira—nor did she want such dirty laundry potentially leaking to others.
“It’s very private.”
“I used to be a priestess. I know all about this.”
“But you’re not a priestess anymore.”
“Mm, nope. That’s part of why I’m on penance.”
“All right…” Sulim knew how to bargain. She married into the Gardiah family, hadn’t she? “Tell me why you’re on penance, and I’ll tell you my horseshit.”
“Oof, something tells me those do not weigh equally at all.”
Mira shook out her head, raindrops flying off her hair.
“You see, aside from my mother, everyone in my family is sworn to a blood oath to not talk about why I’m on penance.
Or where I’ve been for a decade. It’s very serious.
And I don’t have the means to make you swear an oath as long as I have this tattoo.’
“A blood oath?”
“Yes. We both draw blood and shake hands while swearing to either do or not do something. Then, if we ever try to go back on that word…”
Mira snapped her fingers with a naughty look.
“Ooh, you don’t want to see it. Lots of pain. The Void does not forgive a soul that tries to go back on a blood oath.”
“Sounds grisly.”
“When you live for millennia, you take privacy seriously. Shit will follow you forever.”
“Especially what got you into trouble, huh?”
“Especially that.”
“All right…” Sulim needed something else to barter with. She did not like what she immediately came up with, but offered it anyway. “Hannu Adelah. I know her. I’ll tell you how.”
“Okay, that’s juicy.” Mira placed her hand over the warm thermos, her tattoo on full display.
“I’ve been dying to know what my mother’s holding back about why we’re here for so long. Because, trust me, she doesn’t plan on leaving when the rain lets up. Hannu is on penance, too, and it’s only a matter of time before our presence here is part of it.”
Sulim swallowed. “Yes. I think I know why. It’s the same reason I’ve been avoiding her. And Sonall and Graella aren’t ingratiating themselves with her, either, you might have noticed.”
“Can’t say I was paying that kind of attention, but sure.”
Sulim stared out the window, unable to see a thing past the rain clouding up the glass.
The patter of the splatter reminded her of some of the rainier days in Yarensport, when she lived in that dilapidated apartment by the docks.
Smelled like gull shit, fish bait, and seawater.
She much preferred this evergreen forest rain. It was fresher.
“Yet you say that you pay attention to people?”
Mira was slightly amused to be called out. “Let’s say I pay attention to certain people. People who interest me. Around here, you’re one of the only ones.”
“Really?” Such attention felt uncalled for, but Sulim wouldn’t deny its existence. “Why?”
“Because you don’t fit in here. When I first met you, I thought you were part of the help.”
“Guess I could see that.”
“I don’t mean to denigrate you. You just had this aloof and reclusive sense of confidence, like you weren’t part of the family, but you had every right to be here. I was shocked to learn that you were a Gardiah, let alone that boy’s wife.”
“That boy?” Sulim supposed that to a julah, Sonall was quite young, but he was only a year younger than Sulim.
We’re fast approaching an age where it doesn’t matter anymore.
We’re essentially the same age. “Well, you’re right. I don’t really belong here. Not in the family. Just ask my mother-in-law.”
“It’s all right. I don’t feel like I belong in my family, either.”
“Really? But your parents…”
“Are just two pieces of a whole puzzle,” Mira explained.
“Besides, when your father is the High Priest, it’s a pain in the ass. There’s a lot of pressure on me as his only child, let alone a woman. I either marry into another family who will absolutely shit themselves to have me because of my parents, or I stay in House Dunsman and become the future Head.
”
“What’s wrong with that part?”
“It’s still on me to figure out the future. And it’s a lot of responsibility. Besides, it’s particularly the House Dunsman part. I don’t… well, I don’t like my father’s family. Since I can remember, I’ve preferred my mother’s. As far as I’m concerned, I’m a Lerenan, not a Dunsman. But…
I’m not in the line of succession for House Lerenan. That’s going to some second cousin of mine or whatever. My grandmother picked him out a long while ago. Much like I’ll pick out some tertiary Dunsman cousin to succeed me one day, because I’m not having babies.”
Sulim contemplated that. “Me neither.”
“The real reason you don’t fit in here, huh?”
“I just…” Sulim thought back to the day Sonall proposed to her, promising her the sun and the moon and any star if she would love him.
I was blindsided. She knew that he cared for her, but not quite like that.
But didn’t it make sense? She had nothing truly tying her to Qahrain, and she was good friends with both him and Graella.
They were the same age. Sulim knew a lot about farming and animal husbandry, at least on a practical level.
He has never pressured me to do anything.