twenty-two #2
“Why wouldn’t you?”
Mira knelt her elbow on the table, her grin always so beguiling that Sulim swore everyone in the house saw what she did. “I’m too invested in you.”
“What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?”
Sulim shrugged.
“Come on. It means I love you.”
Sulim’s throat was dry as she parsed those words. It wasn’t the first time they said I love you to each other, but it was the first time she felt the weight of their severity. “I’m a human. It’s not smart to love me.”
“I know what you are.”
Something else lingered in those words, but Sulim did not push it.
Two days later, after she suffered through Graella’s dress fitting, in which the tailor was confounded by having to let out the waistline again and Jacelah chided her daughter for eating too much, Sulim returned to her room to find a note addressed to her.
Bold, considering her husband could come back at any time.
“I’ve told your mother I need your help picking out gifts to send back to Yahzen. Be ready to head to Harksplit with me in an hour. We’re walking.”
Sulim saw Jacelah before she saw Mira, and her mother-in-law expressed some frustration that julah could “boss people around like that,” but said nothing as she tacitly told Sulim to get ready for whatever a sorceress wanted.
As soon as Sulim changed into nicer clothes, she met Mira at the bottom of the stairs, where her lover led the way out of the house.
It was cloudy but not rainy, perfect for an hour-long walk into Harksplit. Mira kept her hands behind her as they walked side by side, Sulim straddling the rain ditches and biting her bottom lip to keep from asking what this was really about.
“One day,” Mira said, “I’ll have to go back to my life on Yahzen.”
Sulim nodded. “I know.”
“I don’t suppose there would be any way for you to come with me?”
They stopped at a milepost that announced they were only halfway there. “What?”
Mira did not shade her eyes from the westward sun as she faced Sulim on the empty road.
“I’ll be properly unemployed when I’m finished with my penance. Might be awful to a human, but I’m taking it as a well-deserved break after everything that’s happened. Maybe I’ll stay in Garlahza. Maybe I’ll go to the capital for a while. Or maybe I’ll drift through the Federation.
I’m thinking that for at least fifty years, nobody in either of my families will want to trust me with anything but trying to stay out of trouble. How old are you again?”
Sulim still didn’t know where this was going. “Twenty-five.”
“That’s like a hundred in julah years.”
“I know that the more the years go on for us, the more they stall for you.”
“Indeed. I’m five-hundred, which in human years is like—”
“Twenty-eight.” Sulim had already done the conversion.
Mira laughed. “Soon, you’ll be developmentally older than me.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That I want you to come with me. To wherever you want to go. I’ll go back with you to Qahrain, if that’s what you want.”
“Mira, I—”
“I don’t expect you to answer now. My mom isn’t going anywhere until after the wedding, and even then, she’s so frustratingly trying to figure out the veil between the mortal world and the Void around here that it might be months.
I think she’s about to send some of our party back to Yahzen to lessen the burden on your family.”
Sometimes, Sulim forgot that the other julah were there.
Hannu was either shut up in her room, where she rotated between loudly chanting and clattering her dishes together, or she was in the Temple, doing the same damn thing, who was not bound by a tattoo, ran many errands for Lady Joiya, including off-planet.
There were nights she wasn’t around at all.
And the bodyguards? One had already permanently taken up residence in a Harksplit inn to be on hand for Lady Joiya when she was at the local Temple.
The older one was so intrigued by the horses that he had approached Vern about helping out in the fields.
Anything his sorcery could do to make up for the cost of food they imposed upon the family.
Vern had been hesitant at first, but according to Sonall, the middle-aged julah was mending fences, testing the earth, and lightening the load in the smithy using nothing but his mind.
His time in the military meant he took orders well and without needing much explanation, which Vern valued.
“They’ll be best friends in a week,” Sonall had quipped.
Everyone had their place on Gardiah Estate. Except for Mira.
“Think about it, would you?” Mira began the trek toward Harksplit once more. “You’re a Federation citizen. I’m the High Priest’s julah heir. Together, we can live wherever we choose.”
“I’m also married.”
Mira stopped. “Maybe one day you can be married to me instead.”
Sulim’s jaw dropped.
“That’s not a proper proposal!” Mira called as she continued walking again. “I don’t know how he proposed to you, but I’ll top him!”
She chased after Mira until they were side-by-side again. “Don’t do that to me!” she cried. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now!”
Mira laughed. “That’s why I’m taking you away from all of it right now.”
They reached town in another thirty minutes. Sulim needed a break, but Mira insisted they head toward the backstreets. Not one to question her right now, Sulim was somehow not surprised that they made it to one of the private inns that boasted “the thickest walls in Arrah.”
“Don’t you dare,” Sulim said.
Mira yanked her inside. “I’m making love to you on a bed for once,” she declared, bypassing the unmanned front desk and showing that she already had a key for a third-story room. “The thickest rooms on the planet, my love! You can finally be as loud as you want.”
Was that supposed to be a ringing endorsement for a House of Assignations? Well, Sulim would never tell. She was a private person.
“We never get to spend any time together!”
That was what Graella insisted as she stole Sulim’s attention later that week.
“We’ve both been so busy. I hear Mother has shown you all of the ins and outs of the house?”
Her grin was infectious as she looped her arm around Sulim’s and led her toward the stairs.
“Tell me all about it. I’ve packed a picnic for our spot!”
This came out of nowhere, as far as Sulim was concerned, but she could technically put off the last of her afternoon chores to entertain the woman she would be seeing much less soon. If anyone asks, I helped her with some cold feet.
Sulim headed toward the stable, since it was more comfortable going to “their spot” on horseback, but Graella said she was too nauseous to ride. Instead, they walked there.
It wasn’t too far from the barn in the woods, but instead of taking the fork in the road for “The Old Barn,” they went the other way, trudging up a steep hill and winding through the trees until they came to a small clearing overlooking a sizable cliff.
Sonall and Graella had shown her this spot when Sulim moved to Arrah to get married, and told her she could come here if she ever needed some peace and quiet.
Indeed, the view was spectacular from summer to fall, but right now, it was slightly muddy.
Sulim felt the earth squelch beneath their blanket as they lay down.
The wind was also crisper up here. Graella had thought ahead by bringing a warm shawl for her shoulders, but Sulim was stuck with her tunic and trousers.
They talked of the wedding, how it would compare to Sulim’s, and the generous gift Vern had offered the Corarias as part of Graella’s sizable dowry, which was more of a matter of course to secure their daughter’s own finances than an actual gift.
“Five mares!” she cried, as if Sulim hadn’t heard.
“Not just Missy.” She referred to her personal mare that she had barely touched in those past few weeks, always choosing to walk or cart away in an automobile with her mother.
“I get to pick four more! Which ones do you think I should take with me to Qahrain?”
Sulim told her that it was a better question for Sonall, who knew those horses better than either woman.
Knowing Graella, she would go completely by aesthetic, but her brother would ensure that the bride trekking across multiple galaxies to get married would have the best mares for interbreeding with “lesser” stock.
Because that would be their purpose. They’re only giving her mares because the Corarias will instantly try breeding them.
Why wouldn’t they? Even a half-breed was worth a good amount of money, just nowhere near as much as a purebred Gardiah horse.