six #2
“Do you forget who I am? Your mother-in-law would lose it if someone asked me to do any fetching around here.”
Sulim slightly smiled before turning her head away. “She is quite taken with you all. Guess I understand why.”
“But you’re not as impressed.”
“I have a lot on my mind, if it’s all right with you, Young Lady Dunsman.”
“Oh, for the Void’s sake, my name is Mira. My father doesn’t need more flowers than he’s already been given.”
Sulim motioned to the side of the table closest to Mira. “Would you like something to drink? I don’t have any tea, but I do have flavored water.”
“I’ve got my shoes on.”
“Take them off?”
Mira wasn’t one to turn down an invitation to converse with a pretty lady, now was she?
So she let her shoes plummet to the floor at the bottom of the ladder before she hauled herself into the loft, where she encountered a fluffy duvet on top of the mattress and a backrest in the guardrail. At least it was sturdy.
“What?” she asked when Sulim continued to stare at Mira’s presence. “Am I still dirty?”
Sulim shook something out of her head as she poured some water from a bottle into a paper cup. It landed in front of Mira. “Sorry. Nobody else has ever really been up here.”
Mira accepted the refreshing drink. Didn’t realize how dry my mouth was after that walk. “Doesn’t your husband come up here to say hello?”
She had meant it cheekily, but Sulim’s expression did not change. “No. Not since he helped me build it. He understands that this is my space.”
“Yet I intrude!”
“It’s fine. You’re a guest.”
“Are you only letting me up because of who I am?”
“You were the one who asked me to remember who you were.”
Caught. Mira couldn’t help but laugh. “You and your husband built this, huh? It’s quite the feat. Looks lovely.”
“Thanks. Yes, he’s not too bad with a hammer. Especially if you have a holographic clipboard playing a video that shows you how to do everything.” Sulim pulled something else out of the cupboard beneath the window. “Would you like some crackers?”
She placed them on the table. Mira felt pressured to take one. “Thank you,” she said. “Guess I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“Do you always get up this early?”
“Only when I finally get a good night’s sleep. Do you know how nice it is to have a bed again? Sleeping mats aren’t terrible on their own, but being out in the elements night after night…” Mira sighed. “Temperature control is so lovely.”
“You’ve been traveling like that for a long time, huh?”
“It’s penance. It’s not supposed to be comfortable.”
“Penance?”
Mira shrugged. “I was a bad girl quite a while ago. Until the Void forgives me, I’ve got to keep doing this shit under my mother’s gaze.”
Sulim appeared to store that away somewhere in her mind. When she refocused her attention on Mira, she said, “I hope that the people in the house haven’t been too much. My mother-in-law cares way too much about how other people see her. It’s even worse than how I grew up with my aunt… ah…”
“What?”
“I’m blabbing.”
“Maybe I like to hear some blabbing.” Mira leaned forward, attempting to catch the glint of sunlight in Sulim’s eyes.
She has rare eyes for a human. Hazel, with more green than brown.
While an array of eye colors dotted the julah genetic sphere, she was used to humans with dark brown or gray eyes.
Lots of lovely eyes out there. Mira had a terrible habit of falling into them when she was lonely.
“Humor me. Despite my mother’s extroversion, I don’t get to hear many stories straight from the woman’s mouth. Usually, they come to us with some plight for us to pray over. Always the saddest shit.”
She sipped the water. It was already room temperature.
“Gets to you after a while. Like how I get that it’s my mother’s calling or whatever.”
She moved her legs so they crossed together and allowed her torso to fold over them.
Some deep stretching sounds nice. When was the last time she greeted the sun with the reverent poses like a good priestess should? Not since I was a priestess.
Sulim remained on the other side of the table, head cocked, and lips pursed. Stop being so pretty. What a lucky man this Sonall Gardiah was to call such a fetching young woman his wife. Some would say the same about any man who married me. All because of her parents.
“How does a farmgirl from Qahrain come to be the future Lady Gardiah?”
Mira asked, helping herself to another cracker.
It showered crumbs on the table when she took a bite.
Under usual circumstances, she would use sorcery to collect them into a neat pile for disposal.
Instead, she had to do it the human way—with a hand brushing against the surface.
“Well…” Was Sulim uncomfortable? Or did she stop and start while shifting where she sat because it felt good?
“Graella did the exchange around the same time I did. Our trips overlapped while I was volunteering at the Temple in Yarensport. We hit it off as friends, I guess. Her brother came to visit and… the rest is history, I suppose.”
“To go on exchange and to be accepted in this family must have meant you were a nobleman’s daughter. Let me guess… a small gentry farm outside of Yarensport? Forgive me. I honestly don’t know how human nobility works on the granular level.”
“I wasn’t noble,” Sulim said with mild humility. “I mean, I wasn’t born noble. Nor have I technically ever been noble. My aunt married into a small title shortly after I was born, around the same time my parents…”
“Oh…” Mira instantly caught on. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don’t remember them much. I was really little.”
“May I ask what happened?”
“Cruiser crash. Shortly after takeoff. I’m told they would have died instantly.”
“My word…” Mira should have anticipated something as garish as that.
What a way to go. Instant, yes, but those two souls would have winked to the Void in such a confused state that it would take a pound of priestly prayers to guide them through to their final destination without threat of becoming a destructive Shadow. “I’m sorry.”
“I said it’s fine. Anyway, my aunt took me in. I never had a title, but I guess being raised by my aunt and uncle was sufficient for my in-laws. At least, there was only a minor fuss after my husband asked for my hand.”
A minor fuss? In julah talk, that meant at least a century of bad blood.
Like my grandmother rejecting my father’s choice of a wife.
The courtship of Nerilis and Joiya Dunsman had been locked into legend by the time Mira was old enough to hear it.
But like Sulim and her husband, my parents prevailed. Love did much, didn’t it?
Mira glanced around the renovated barn. In the polished railing was a hint of an amateur’s touch, as if indeed a novice carpenter had figured this out with the help of a video on a holographic clipboard.
As Mira traced the well-intentioned craftsmanship, she imagined the future Lord Gardiah spending hours up here, whenever he had a spare moment, procuring the perfect hideaway for his off-planet bride.
He must really love her. How fortunate for Sulim—and unfortunate for Mira.
Well! For the best.
“So…” Sulim finally settled into a comfortable position that showed off the long lines of her legs and the slump of her shoulder.
Great. Make a lovely pose for me, why don’t you?
“Can I ask why you’re on this pilgrimage? We don’t get many julah pilgrims through here. Actually, I’ve never heard of them, and I think someone would have told me.”
“I told you…I’m on penance until I at least complete my mother’s pilgrimage with her. Part of my penance is losing access to my sorcery. Something I’m familiar with now.”