“Please.”
“How am I to talk with you?”
“Lord Kurt, I have made you think I am a loose woman. I am chanto this house; I cannot dishonor it. Please let me go inside.”
A thought came to him. “Are you his?Are you Kta’s?”
“No,” she said.
Against her preference he took the ctanand draped it about her shoulders. She hugged it to her. He was near enough to have touched her. He did not, nor did she move back; he did not take that for invitation. He thought that whatever he did, she would not protest or raise the house. It would be trouble between her lord Kta and his guest, and he understood enough of nemet dignity to know that Mim would choose silence. She would yield, hating him.
He had no argument against that.
In sad defeat, he bowed a formal courtesy to her and turned away.
“Lord Kurt,” she whispered after him, distress in her voice.
He paused, looking back.
“My lord,—you do not understand.”
“I understand,” he said, “that I am human. I have offended you. I am sorry.”
“Nemet do not—” She broke off in great embarrassment, opened her hands, pleading. “My lord, seek a wife. My lord Nym will advise you. You have connections with the Methi and with Elas. You could marry,—easily you could marry, if Nym approached the right house—”
“And if it was you I wanted?”
She stood there, without words, until he came back to her and reached for her. Then she prevented him with her slim hands on his. “Please,” she said. “I have done wrong with you already.”
He ignored the protest of her hands and took her face between his palms ever so gently, fearing at each moment she would tear from him in horror. She did not. He bent and touched his lips to hers, delicately, almost chastely, for he thought the human custom might disgust or frighten her.
Her smooth hands still rested on his arms. The moon glistened on tears in her eyes when he drew back from her. “Lord,” she said, “I honor you. I would do what you wish, but it would shame Kta and it would shame my father and I cannot.”
“What can you?” He found his own breathing difficult. “Mim, what if some day I did decide to talk with your father? Is that the way things are done?”
“To marry?”
“Some day it might seem a good thing to do.”
She shivered in his hands. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks.
“Mim, will you give me yes or no? Is a human hard for you to look at? If you had rather not say, then just say ‘let me be’ and I will do my best after this not to bother you.”
“Lord Kurt, you do not know me.”
“Are you determined I will never know you?”
“You do not understand. I am not the daughter of Hef. If you ask him for me he must tell you, and then you will not want me.”
“It is nothing to me whose daughter you are.”
“My lord,—Elas knows. Elas knows. But you must listen to me now, listen. You know about the Tamurlin. I was taken when I was thirteen. For three years I was slave to them. Hef only calls me his daughter, and all Nephane thinks I am of this country. But I am not, Kurt. I am Indras, of Indresul. And they would kill me if they knew. Elas has kept this to itself. But you—you cannot bear such a trouble. People must not look at you and think Tamurlin: it would hurt you in this city; and when they see me, that is what they must think.”
“Do you believe,” he asked, “that what they think matters with me? I am human. They can see that.”
“Do you not understand, my lord? I have been property of every man in that village. Kta must tell you this if you ask Hef for me. I am not honorable. No one would marry Mim h’Elas. Do not shame yourself and Kta by making Kta say this to you.”
“After he had said it,” said Kurt, “would he give his consent?”
“Honorable women would marry you. Sufaki have no fear of humans as Indras do. Perhaps even a daughter of some merchant would marry you. I am only chan,and before that I was nothing at all.”
“If I were to ask,” he said, “would you refuse?”
“No. I would not refuse.” Her small face took on a look of pained bewilderment. “Kurt-ifhan, surely you will think better of this in the morning.”
“I am going to talk to Hef,” he said. “Go inside, Mim. And give me back my cloak. It would not do for you to wear it inside.”
“My lord, think a day before you do this.”
“I will give it tomorrow,” he said, “for thinking it over. And you do the same. And if you have not come to me by tomorrow evening and asked me and said clearly that you do not want me, then I will talk to Hef.”
It was, he had time to think that night and the next morning, hardly reasonable. He wanted Mim. He had had no knowledge of her to say that he loved her, or that she loved him.
He wanted her. She had set her terms and there was no living under the same roof with Mim without wanting her.
He could apply reason to the matter, until he looked into her face at breakfast as she poured the tea, or as she passed him in the hall and looked at him with a dreadful anxiety.
Have you thought better of it?the look seemed to say. Was it, after all, only for the night?
Then the feeling was back with him, the surety that, should he lose Mim by saying nothing, he would have lost something irreplaceable.
In the end, he found himself that evening gathering his courage before the door of Hef, who served Elas, and standing awkwardly inside the door when the old man admitted him.
“Hef,” he said, “may I talk to you about Mim?”
“My lord?” asked the old man, bowing.
“What if I wanted to marry her? What should I do?”
The old nemet looked quite overcome then, and bowed several times, looking up at him with a distraught expression. “Lord Kurt, she is only chan.”
“Do I not speak to you? Are you the one who says yes or no?”
“Let my lord not be offended. I must ask Mim.”
“Mim agrees,” said Kurt. Then he thought that it was not his place to have asked Mim, and that he shamed her and embarrassed Hef; but Hef regarded him with patience and even a certain kindliness.
“But I must ask Mim,” said Hef. “That is the way of it. And then I must speak to Kta-ifhan, and to Nym and lady Ptas.”
“Does the whole house have to give consent?” Kurt let forth, without pausing to think.
“Yes, my lord. I shall speak to the family, and to Mim. It is proper that I speak to Mim.”
“I am honored,” Kurt murmured the polite phrase; and he went upstairs to his own quarters to gather his nerves.
He felt much relieved that it was over. Hef would consent. He was sure what Mim would answer her father, and that would satisfy Hef.
He was preparing for bed when Kta came up the stairs and asked admittance. The nemet had a troubled look and Kurt knew by sure instinct what had brought him. He would almost have begged Kta to go away, but he was under Kta’s roof and he did not have that right.
“You have talked with Hef,” Kurt said, to make it easier for him.
“Let me in, my friend.”
Kurt backed from the door, offering Kta a chair. It would have been proper to offer tea also. He would have had to summon Mim for that. He would not do it.
“Kurt,” said Kta, “please, sit down also. I must speak to you—I must beg your kindness to hear me.”
“You might find it more comfortable simply to tell me what is in your mind from the beginning,” Kurt said, taking the other chair. “Yes or no, are you going to interfere?”
“I am concerned for Mim. It is not as simple as you may hope. Will you hear me? If your anger forbids,—then we will go down and drink tea and wait for a better mind, but I am bound to say these things.”
“Mim told me—about most that I imagine you have come to say. And it makes no difference. I know about the Tamurlin and I know where she came from.”