twenty-one
Nobody was more pleased with the current living situation than Mira, who suddenly had a reason to linger at Gardiah Estate while her mother engaged in Temple research that completely confounded everyone around them.
Of course, Joiya was the first person to ingratiate herself wherever she went.
She wondered aloud how far they could push Lady Jacelah’s hospitality—all while her daughter gallivanted about the property, stealing kisses from the lady’s daughter-in-law when she wasn’t outright making love to her in barn lofts and by empty riverbeds.
Sulim had given up any pretense that they weren’t having an affair, which delighted Mira, who was quite chuffed to be the object of the young human’s affection.
Her mother’s solution was to become invaluable to the family.
It wasn’t enough, according to her, to merely be the spiritual celebrities that they were.
While a devout family like the Gardiahs would house Lady Joiya and her entourage for as long as they wanted to stay, it wasn’t enough.
Humans were not julah. They were not used to guests lingering for years, as if they were afterthoughts at the dinner table.
While Mira was not privy to her mother’s plans, she saw their effects.
She made a call to her mother, Lady Yariah Lerenan, and arranged for a sizable sum of Federation money to be wired from House Lerenan’s coffers.
It’s probably from her emergency funds Grandmother has set aside.
It was a matter of course for a well-to-do Lady to set aside an account for their married-off daughter in case something unfortunate occurred.
Over the generations, it had become a woman’s lifeline outside of her husband’s family.
Joiya could access the money whenever she wanted and do whatever she wanted with it.
Like pay Lady Jacelah a sizable sum to offset the expenses of the party staying there for so long.
As was customary, the woman of the house turned it down up to five times before “reluctantly” accepting, but according to Sulim, Lady Jacelah was relieved to have one less thing to worry about.
For while the Gardiahs were wealthy, much of that wealth was tied up in the expensive business they ran, as well as other non-liquid investments that were set aside for each family member.
Right now, the greatest expense was in Graella’s wedding and her subsequent dowry, which she would take with her to Qahrain. That was where Joiya focused next.
“I must have misheard,” Jacelah said with a gasp as Graella tittered beside her. “You cannot possibly be offering to officiate my daughter’s wedding.”
They were having afternoon tea in Jacelah’s salon, something Mira had grown accustomed to if only because she realized the lady was a font of gossip—and that always piqued Mira’s interest, as if she were a proper julah lady.
Today, about two weeks after Mira began her affair with Sulim, her mother dropped a bomb on the humans who entertained their stay.
“I assure you I am a licensed Temple priestess,” Joiya said. “If I politely ask Priest Kanhith to oversee the ceremony myself, I’m sure he will have no issues. I daresay he would be grateful to not have such an important wedding on his shoulders so early in his career.”
“It’s just…”
Graella bounded up from her settee, shrieking, “Yes, please! Oh, by the Void, that would be the greatest thing in the world!” She turned toward her mother, who remained pale and shocked on her sofa. “Can you imagine it, Mother? My wedding! Officiated by Lady Joiya!”
Later, when they were alone and could confide in the other in their mother tongue, Joiya revealed that it was part of her plan to keep Jacelah appeased. “Not that I don’t want to do it,” Joiya assured her daughter. “You know how much I love a good wedding.”
“Yes, you’ve never seen a wedding you wouldn’t butt into.”
“It’s one of my only regrets about your life path, my heart. I would die to see you get married to your beloved.”
Mira wrinkled her nose as they sorted their laundry on their bed.
While Mira’s Temple tunics, trousers, and basic underwear kept things easy, she was still expected to launder and iron her clothing—without sorcery.
That was the real rub. “You make it sound like that can’t ever happen. It’s just not happening anytime soon.”
“You are not the type to marry someone who isn’t your soulmate.”
“Again, you make it sound like I couldn’t find my soulmate.”
Her mother cocked her head at her, but didn’t say a word.
She merely went back to sorting her own clothing to be laundered that week.
The Gardiahs graciously allowed them to use their machinery, and while Joiya and Mira often washed their clothing together, it was still imperative to make sure certain materials didn’t get caught inside the mechanized wash.
“Wait.” Mira stood in her mother’s way as Joiya attempted to step into the bathroom. “Do you know who my soulmate is?”
Her mother was pale, but the fake smile on her face attempted to dissuade Mira from asking more questions. “Even if I did, I probably should not tell you, my heart. It would only cause problems.”
“Ma.”
Instead of shutting herself up in the bathroom as she wanted to do lately, Joiya stood steadfast before her daughter.
I may be a lot taller than her, but I will never match her gravitas in a room.
Mira was nowhere near as charismatic as her mother, who seemingly sucked all of the attention in a room the moment she stepped inside.
Even her father admitted that it had been love at first sight when Joiya initially matriculated into the Academy.
Joiya had been untraditionally young for initiation, but she was so talented from such an early age that it was a no-brainer the Masters would let her in, so she would learn to control her sorcery.
“I was one of the ones there in the atrium when she arrived in her carriage. I remember thinking that, from the moment I saw her, I had discovered my female half.”
Her parents did not start seriously dating for a few more decades, but the Academy had never seen such a powerful love match that even tested someone like Great Dame Dunsman.
Now here was the High Priest’s pivotal love match, the petite woman of such great sorceric standing that even with a tattoo on her wrist, she was probably still capable of certain feats—she was just too humble to show off.
She could kill me. Mira thought that sometimes. Hell, her father could kill her, too. Yet I’m the only one in the family who has killed someone with my sorcery.
“I’ve really had weddings on the mind lately,” Joiya said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my own. What happened the night before.”
Mira remained quiet. She knew something formidable had happened the night before her parents’ wedding, but only they and Ramaron knew the full details. They hadn’t even shared it with Mira, who was more than old enough now to hear it.
“I made a promise not to interfere with certain things after that day. I have already pushed the Void’s patience as far as it can extend.”
“What happened that night, Ma?”
Joiya pursed her lips. “I had a calling. And I rejected it.”
Something tightened in Mira’s chest. “What does that have to do with telling me who my soulmate is?”
“Darling…”
“Is it a woman, at least?”
Joiya’s face softened. “Of course it’s a woman. You are who you are for a reason. Honestly, sometimes I swear you’re the inverse of me! You and I have such diverging lives…”
Mira didn’t let her mother follow that useless tangent. “So, you know who it is?”
“Even if I didn’t, do you think your soulmate would be a woman? Even the Void isn’t that bizarre in who it pairs together. There is always a reason. Which is why…”
Mira waited for her mother to explain, but she didn’t.
Frustrated, such cryptic words haunted Mira to the point that she didn’t even seek Sulim out for some frivolous fun when they could spare the moments. Instead, she bottled it up until she could go back into town and demand some answers out of Ramaron.
“Why are you asking me about that?” He was as frazzled now as he had been two weeks ago, when Joiya was already running him ragged with field research.
Ramaron had brought all sorts of sorceric measurement equipment from the High Temple, and on his apartment table were mathematical equations and coded messages to himself.
If he were actively measuring the actual veil between the mortal world and the Void around Harksplit, then…
well, Mira didn’t even know that was possible.
But she wasn’t someone who pursued high research when she was in the School of Spiritual Studies at the Academy.
That was always more her parents’ thing.
“Because she’s so cryptic about it,” Mira whined, appealing to her “uncle’s” sense of wanting to dote on her. “My whole life, I’ve been told that something crazy happened the night before their wedding. And you were there! So, why won’t anybody tell me the details?”
“Because the only one whose business it is to tell you doesn’t want it shared with anyone,” he pointed out. “Including with you.”
That was certainly not what she wanted to hear, but Mira knew better than to push it. So, while Ramaron politely put up with her company while going over his formulas again, Mira helped him clean up. It was the least she could do for intruding upon his space.
She cleaned up a stack of papers from the dining table and put them neatly into the corner. She wasn’t expecting to find a handwritten note from her father stuck to the bottom, cageh cup stains dotting the edges.
“… Measure five yards away. You don’t want to accidentally cause such a disturbance that the Void tries to suck you right in.”
Either this had been delivered here from a Temple courier, or…
“Has my father been here?”
Ramaron collapsed onto the only couch in the room, his long legs hanging over the armrest. “What are you talking about?”
“This is his handwriting. Were you two having tea while going over your notes or something?” Did her mother know?
“Your father is good at coming and going as he pleases without the Premiers knowing.”
“And nobody told me?”