"Please don't be hurt," said Chebeya. "We all know you've done your best. But we've also left it up to you, haven't we? I've been content to be the loving mother who tries to keep the connection with Akma strong. I've left all the arguing up to you."
"Not all," said Luet grimly.
"Akma is here so little, I've been afraid to argue with him for fear of losing him entirely," said Chebeya. "But because of that, perhaps he thinks that it's only a matter between him and his father. That Luet and I are neutral."
"He knows I'm not," said Luet.
Akmaro shook his head. "Chebeya, there's no need. Akma will grow out of this."
Tears started slipping down Chebeya's cheeks. "No he won't," she said. "Not now. This whole business with Shedemei-"
"Akma doesn't have anything to do with that, does he?" asked Didul.
"The people who brought charges against her," said Chebeya, "they won't give up. It can't be a secret from them how the son of the high priest feels about things. They'll find a way to use him. If nothing else, they'll flatter him, agree with him. Akma is hungry to be loved and respected-"
"We all are," said Edhadeya softly.
"Akma more than most, in part because he feels that perhaps he has never had the love and respect he wanted at home." Chebeya reached out a hand toward her husband, as if to soothe him. "Not your fault. It's just the way things looked to him, from the beginning, from those awful days back in Chelem."
Didul looked at the ruins of his meal in front of him, his face burning as he remembered how he had treated Akma. The picture came so easily to his mind, more vivid perhaps now than it had been at the time. Little Akma crying and sputtering in fury as Didul and his brothers laughed and laughed. Then Akma crying in pain, a very different sound, a terrible sound... and still they laughed. Still I laughed, Didul thought. Does Akma hear that sound even now? If it's even half as clear in his mind as it is in mine... .
He felt a hand close over his. For a moment he thought it might be Luet who touched him, and he wanted to tear his own hand away in shame at his unworthiness. But it was Chebeya. "Please, Didul. You're so much a part of this family that we forget sometimes that you hear some things with different ears. No one blames you here." Didul nodded, not bothering to argue. Chebeya turned the conversation to other things, and the rest of the meal passed in peace.
When it was time for Edhadeya to go home, she asked Didul to walk with her. Didul laughed; he meant to seem amused but knew that he only sounded nervous. "Is it that you have something you want to say to me, or that everyone else has things they want to say without me?"
"He's so sweet, isn't he?" Edhadeya said. "He couldn't conceive of the idea that I might enjoy his company."
Once they were on the dark street, walking home by the light of the torch Didul carried, Edhadeya said, "All right, yes, there's something I wanted to say to you."
"Well, then," said Didul. "Here I am. Or is it so devastating you want to wait till we're nearer your father's house, in case I burst into tears, throw down the torch, and run away into the night?"
"You know what I want to talk about."
"I shouldn't come to Akmaro's house anymore, is that it?"
Edhadeya laughed, startled. "What! Why would I say that? They love you-are you so shy you can't see it?"
"For Akma's sake. So they can win him back."
"It's not you, Didul. No, I wanted to say the opposite. Or really, I wanted to ask you something first, and then say something-Didul, I wish I understood you better."
"Better than you do right now? Better than other people do? Or better than you understand other people?"
She giggled, very girlishly. Suddenly an image flashed into Didul's mind, of Edhadeya and Luet sitting on a bench together, laughing just that way. Schoolgirls.
"I'm listening now," he said. "I'll be serious."
"Didul, your life has been very strange," said Edhadeya. "You were unlucky in your father, but very lucky in your brothers."
"Pabul's done well. The rest of us struggle."
"You improved with age-which is better than most of us do. Most of us start out innocent and deteriorate."
"As low as my beginning was, Edhadeya, I had nowhere to go but up."
"I think not," said Edhadeya. "But please listen. I'm not harping on your past, I'm saying that you are much admired. Many people say it-Father hears reports from Bodika, you know. You are much admired. And not just among the Kept."
"That's kind of you to say."
"Yes, well, I'm repeating what others say. That you're a man of compassion."
"Whatever people tell me, I can always say I've done worse, the Keeper can still accept you if you change now."
"Please listen, Didul. I have to know something from your own lips. It seems that you love everybody, that you show compassion to everybody, and wit and a kind of easiness-everyone is comfortable with you."
"Except you."
"Because when you're with me-when you're with Akmaro- you're shy, you're not at ease. You feel-"
"Above myself."
"Out of place."
"Yes."
"So someone might wonder: How do you really feel about Akmaro's family? Do you love them? Or merely hunger for their constant forgiveness?"
Didul thought about this for a moment. "I love them. Their forgiveness I've had for years. The parents. Luet, when she was old enough to understand. She was very young, and children are very forgiving."
"So again, someone might wonder-if you are confident of their forgiveness, why are you so shy, so guarded when you're with them?"
"Who is doing all this wondering, Edhadeya?"
"I am, and be quiet. Someone might wonder, Didul, whether some of your shyness might be because you have some kind of special feeling for one of the family and yet you dare not speak of it... ."
"Are you asking me if I love Luet?"
"Thank you," said Edhadeya. "Yes, that's what I'm asking."
"Of course I love her. Anyone who knows her has to love her."
Edhadeya growled in frustration. "Don't play games with me, Didul!"
Didul held the torch farther up and away, so it wouldn't light his face as he spoke. "Can you imagine anything worse than the day Akma finds out that I'm marrying Luet?"
"Yes, I can," said Edhadeya. "The worst thing would be if Luet were to spend day after day, year after year waiting for you, and you never come to her,"
"She's not waiting for me."
"You've asked her?"
"We haven't spoken of it."
"And she never will, because she fears that you don't have any feelings for her. But she has them for you. I betray a confidence to tell you this. But you must make your choice based on all the information. Yes, it would gall Akma to have you for a brother-in-law. But this same Akma is already the enemy of everything his father stands for. And to spare his feelings, will you break the heart of Luet, who waits for you? Which is the greater wrong? To hurt the unforgiving one, or to hurt the one who has forgiven all?"
Didul walked beside her in silence. They reached the door of the king's house.
"That was all I had to say," she said.
"Can I believe you?" he whispered. "That she cares for me? After all I did?"
"Women can be insane sometimes in the men they choose to love."
"Are you? Insane?"
"Do you want to know how insane I am, Didul? When Luet and I were younger, we fell in love with each other's brothers. She finally settled on Mon, because he's always been the one I was closest to. And I of course loved Akma from afar." Edhadeya smiled mysteriously. "Then Luet grew out of that childish love and found something much finer in her love for you." Edhadeya laughed lightly. "Good night, Didul."