twenty-five
What would normally be a somber day of bidding family farewells as they got into automobiles and drove to space cruisers bound for other parts of the universe was, instead, devoid of most technology.
Everyone was dressed in travel clothes and bore their handbags and satchels, but they stood in the backyard as if preparing for a ritual sacrifice instead of embarking on a long but instantaneous journey.
“I’ll miss you so much!” Graella clung to Sulim as if they would never see each other again.
“Take care of everything, all right? Don’t let my brother always get his way! And call me every week, okay? Oh!”
She clutched Sulim’s shoulders as the others around them said their farewells.
“Please, promise you’ll come visit with my mother when the baby is born. It’s terrifying enough only having my in-laws to help me with my first…”
“I’ll do my best,” Sulim assured her. “But I will call every week. Of course.”
“You must be so relieved we’re not going by cruiser…”
Sulim didn’t have a chance to reply before Graella was swept up into her brother’s hug.
Her shrill cry of goodbye and his smiling face, paired with teary eyes, were Sulim’s cues to focus on her own in-laws, who imparted some final messages to her before heading to Qahrain for the second half of the wedding.
“Every morning, without fail,” Jacelah reminded her, referring to the daily check-in with the house staff, wherein duties were double-checked, and admonishments were administered.
“They must get used to your authority now. Run things how you wish, but they must know that you’re in charge now, before you are permanently.”
Well, that was one way to say goodbye, see you in a few weeks!
Out of the corner of Sulim’s eye, Mira conferred with her mother about something.
Alongside her were Master Marlow and the two bodyguards, particularly Orlin, dressed in their own travel wear as they prepared to offer sorceric services to the party.
Orlin and the other bodyguard, Samural, had already returned from delivering the organic part of Graella’s dowry to Qahrain.
Samural was quite tired and promised that he could take Lord and Lady Coraria, who had not brought many bags.
Lady Joiya had temporarily lost her tattoo to help, and Mira teased her that this was her chance to show off a bit. Joiya said, “Maybe later,” before kissing her daughter’s cheek and joining the party in the backyard.
It was such a strange thing, watching people simply disappear into thin air—but that was how it transpired before Sulim’s eyes as she stood at the edge of the yard and waved until nobody was standing before her.
Her hand dropped to her side. The yard was perceptively quiet until her husband came up to her and said, “It’s going to be weird around here.”
Mira, who had made herself comfortable at the table on the back porch, took out her pipe and quipped, “I mean, Hannu’s still here. She’s a riot.”
Indeed, Hannu did not have her tattoo removed to help with the transportation. Right now, she was probably in the room she shared with Kema, meditating until dinner.
“You guys are like when the Master and Lady of a julah House fuck off to Sah Zenlit for a year because they’ve gotta make the spare heir and, you know, it’s just not vibing in the bedroom. Probably because the Great Dame is breathing down the back of their necks.”
Smoke curled from Mira’s pipe as she laughed at her own joke.
“That’s when the heir who is already born gets a taste for being in charge of a massive estate. But also, it’s not a big deal.”
Sonall rolled his eyes before heading inside. Sulim pulled out the other chair at the table and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a hard time.” Mira blew more smoke into the spring air as she lifted a foot into her chair. “Some things don’t change, wherever you go.”
“You sound like Jacelah, implying that I’m not ready to be in charge of a few employees who already like me.”
“Nah, it’s not you any of us are worried about,” Mira said with a grin. “It’s the husband. He’s in way over his head.”
“You think so? He’s doing well as a journeyman. If his father implies that, it’s true.”
“There’s doing well with other dogs around. It’s different when you’re on your own.”
“Marco’s still here. And Sonall has the respect of the ranch hands. It will be fine.”
“Marco, huh?” Mira slowly shook her head and said something in Julah that Sulim didn’t understand. “I suppose he’s good at his job, if your father-in-law still keeps him employed.”
“He’s not just employed,” Sulim explained. “He’s a partner. No inheritance rights, but he gets a sizable cut of profits from what I understand. I don’t know all the details, though.”
“Mm, no inheritance at all?”
“Well, I suppose that…”
“Hm?”
Was Mira fishing for something? “I suppose if there were absolutely no other heirs, he’d have quite the claim to running things.”
“I bet.”
“What’s this about?”
Mira sighed, her frivolous attitude dissipating as she espoused a more somber mien.
“I love you,” she said, “which is why I want you to believe me when I say that I’ve had five hundred years to get a read on people. Especially men. Especially human men. They have no time to waste with their ambitions, just like human women have no time to waste with baby-making.”
She extinguished her pipe and set it down on the table.
“You pick up on things when you’re the scion of a big House. Like, who wants to move into something bigger and better, and isn’t above using you to get it. You know why that man flirts with me all the time?”
“He flirts with you all the time?”
Mira waved that away. “Because maybe, if I fall for him, he can be the human son-in-law of the High Priest. He’s a man with ambition, your family’s Marco. He plays it cool because he doesn’t want you to expect him. But it’s in there.”
This was a lot for Sulim to take in, but she attempted to do so with grace, lest Mira think her a human simpleton. “You really think he’s suspicious?”
“I don’t know if I would say suspicious, but you can’t really trust what he says on a personal level. I don’t fear him, per se, but I’m a julah with powerful parents.”
“What does that mean?”
“I think you know what that means.”
Sulim stared into her soul as if she could open an inner eye and see whatever aura brought them together.
Best I can do is try to read her, too. Mira, like most julah, was innately reserved in a way that courted magnificent poker faces.
I bet you can’t tell a single one of them is stressed. And if you can, it’s bad. Run away.
So, what Mira was probably trying to say was, “He won’t try anything but classic seduction with me, because I or my kin could kill him with a snap of our fingers.”
Since Mira was the way she was, it meant Marco didn’t stand a chance in hell.
“He’s a social climber, then? Suppose I see it.”
“I think it goes beyond wanting more social status,” Mira said. “Men like that? They desire power. The kind that forbids them from falling in love the way the Temple mandates.”
That was her coy way of saying, “Love for love’s sake.”
It had been a long day, and now that the house was quiet, Sulim desired some time to herself without either Jacelah or Graella expecting anything out of her.
Sonall was in the family stables going over something, so Sulim popped into the kitchen to ask about dinner.
It would be served at the customary time, of course. Why did I bother asking? To look busy?
To thank the julah who had helped the bridal party and their most precious possessions make the trip to Qahrain in only a few seconds, Sonall insisted on everyone joining the family for dinner—especially since “the family” was now him and Sulim.
She put on a nice blouse before going into the kitchen a final time to ensure there was plenty to go around and took it upon herself to choose the wine.
The head chef quipped that Sulim was “already Lady Gardiah” in her mother-in-law’s absence, and she chose to ignore it.
She didn’t know why she didn’t expect it. After all, Vern, Jacelah, and Graella were all gone. Yet Sulim’s head still spun when she entered the dining room and discovered her husband sitting at the head of the table where his father usually sat.
He looked at her as if to say, “I mean, who else sits here tonight?”
“Ooh, let’s be table buddies.” Mira bumped into her shoulder before heading toward the table. “Ready to take the Lady’s seat?”
No, Sulim was not. Yet she sat in Jacelah’s usual spot as if it were a common occurrence. Mira hurried to sit next to her. They rarely sat next to one another—usually, they were across from one another, fighting off a game of footsie that was sure to get them caught.
While it was not Master Marlow’s first time dining at Gardiah Estate, it was his first time sitting across from Mira, who gave him an inscrutable look.
The rest of the table slowly filled out with the other julah guests, from the bodyguards to Kema, who sat at the foot of the table where Sonall usually sat.
“I feel so in the spotlight here,” Sulim heard her titter to Orlin next to her. “Won’t you switch with me?”
Whatever he said did not solve their quandary, for Kema sat down there the whole meal, her eyes downcast to her plate.
Sonall gave the most awkward speech before they ate, thanking everyone who helped out that day, and imploring them to continue to make themselves at home while he was technically the head of the house in his parents’ absence.
The whole time, Sulim attempted to sit up straight and look like she also knew what the hell she was doing, all while Mira slipped a hand over her knee beneath the table…
and Lady Joiya, who sat across from her, stared at them with the kind of motherly mischief that implied she knew what the hell was going on.
Wait, did she?
“Nothing gets by her,” Mira said after dinner, when the two of them retired to Jacelah’s salon for tea. They would soon be joined by Lady Joiya and Kema, but for now, they had a few minutes to themselves. “I think she knew I was into you the moment we got here.”
“Please don’t tell me that she—”