The twins were the ones who opened the door, and this time it was Hestya who yelled up the stairs. “He’s here, Aunt Seliora!”
Hanahra just grinned.
“How was your birthday?”
“Good.” They both smiled shyly, looking away, then followed me up the stairs.
I only waited a moment, after the twins hurried away, before Seliora stepped through the archway from the staircase, wearing another dress I had never seen, this one with a black skirt emphasized by narrow panels of a brilliant but dark green silk. The bodice was also black, but the sleeves were of a filmy silk that matched the panels in the skirt, and her scarf was silver, trimmed in the same green. She also wore a jadeite pendant on a silver rope necklace with matching earrings.
“You look stunning!” And she did, more than stunning, in fact.
“I thought I had better.” She smiled. “Pharsi girls try harder.”
I winced at the out-of-context quote.
She bent forward and brushed my cheek with her lips. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t feel that way, but . . . let’s just say that it was a difficult week.”
“Some High Holder trying to be too familiar?”
“His son . . .”
“Do I know the name?”
“I don’t know.” She smiled, mischievously, and somehow sadly, all at once. “Alhyral D’Haestyr.”
“His father is on the Council.”
“Young Alhyral made that point . . . several times. I finally told him that his choice was between his father having no furniture and him not having me or his father having furniture and him not having me. Then he asked how I could possibly turn down the heir of a High Holder, especially one so supportive of merchants, crafters, and factors. I said that was the only option, because I was not raised to deal with High Holders, and he was not raised to deal with Pharsi women. He persisted, until I pointed out that Pharsi women don’t believe in sex without a binding commitment to marry, and that we also don’t believe in divorce, and that there are no unhappy Pharsi husbands. Some dead husbands and unfaithful fiances, but no unhappy ones.”
I whistled softly. “And that was the polite version.”
“I didn’t have to use the pistol.” She laughed, softly, warmly, then wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I kissed her, and she returned the favor with ardor-but only for a few moments. “I don’t think I’d better be too disheveled when I meet your family.”
She had a very good point, and I escorted her out to the waiting hack.
The driver smiled, as if to say that now he understood why I’d paid him to wait.
Once we were in the coach, I asked, “Have you heard about Madame D’Shendael?”
“Grandmama said that she had one last source to go with what she got from Ailphens yesterday.”
I didn’t press on that, because, if Seliora had known more, she would have told me.
We arrived just before fifth glass, and Khethila was the one to open the door. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t gape.
“Khethila, this is Seliora. Seliora, my sister Khethila.”
“I’m so pleased to meet to you,” Khethila said.
“And I, you,” replied Seliora warmly.
“Please do come in. The formal parlor is to the right.” Khethila stepped back to the left.
I let Seliora step through the open door first, then followed.
“She’s gorgeous, Rhenn,” Khethila leaned forward and murmured in my ear as I turned to escort Seliora into the formal parlor. “I’ll tell Mother and Father that you’re here,” she added in a louder voice.
Seliora and I barely stood in the parlor long enough for her to glance around the room before Mother and Father arrived, trailed by Khethila.
“Seliora, these are my parents. Father, Mother, this is Seliora.”
Seliora inclined her head demurely. “I’m honored to meet you both. Rhenn has said so much about you.”
“Not too much, I trust,” replied Father.
“Enough to know that you’re both exceptional. Anyone who has the understanding to let their son pursue art shows great perception.” Her words could have been artificial or glib, but Seliora offered them in full honesty and directness, in a way that could not be denied.
“Please, do sit down,” Mother said, her eyes barely leaving Seliora for a moment. “Would you like Dhuensa, or red or white Cambrisio?”
I glanced to Seliora.
“The Dhuensa, if you please.”
“For me, too,” I added.
“I’d like the white Cambrisio, and your father would like the Dhuensa.” Mother looked to Khethila, and I understood that unspoken command. Mother wasn’t about to miss anything.
“I’ll be right back,” Khethila said. “Don’t say anything too exciting.”
I understood that as well, but I didn’t say a word until Seliora and I were seated on the formal loveseat. “Where’s Culthyn?”
“Oh, he’s over at a friend’s for the evening,” Mother replied. “We didn’t want to inflict him on Seliora for her first dinner here.”
That wording was either accepting or encouraging. The latter, I hoped.
“He hasn’t gotten into too much trouble this week, has he?”
“No more than normal.” Father’s words were dry. “He is learning how to handle accounts and seems to like it.”
“That’s because Khethila’s the one teaching him, dear.” Mother smiled. “Seliora. That’s a beautiful name. Is it a family name?”
“I was named after my grandmother’s grandmother. I’m told that was because she had black hair and black eyes, also. It means ‘daughter of the moon’ in old Pharsi.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Two brothers, one older, one younger.”
At that moment, Khethila returned with a tray, quickly offering the goblets to each of us, and then taking the corner straight-backed chair.
“Rhenn hasn’t said much about your family or what they do,” Father injected.
Seliora glanced at me. “Rhenn can be very protective, I’ve already discovered. It’s an endearing quality. There’s no secret about what we do. My grandmother was the one who created the family business, and we’re all involved in it in some way or another. It’s NordEste Design.”
For the most fleeting of moments, there was a deep silence.
“The NordEste Design, on Nordroad?” Father asked.
Seliora nodded.
“Dear . . . I’m afraid I don’t know as much about this as the men. What is it exactly that you do?” Mother ventured.
Seliora tilted her head, as if at a loss to describe her work. “I’m the one who picks the fabrics for all the upholstered pieces, and I sometimes negotiate with the mills. For custom fabrics, we have several powered looms, and I’m the one who oversees them. I also maintain and repair them. And I do the custom embroidery and fabric designs, and work them out and punch the jacquard cards.”
“You don’t actually embroider?” asked Khethila.
“No. We handle too many pieces to do it by hand. Well . . . there are some individual pieces we might have to have repaired by hand, when it wouldn’t make sense to set up the looms for such a small section of fabric. Then I’d hire that out to one of the seamstresses we can trust.”
Khethila was working hard to conceal a broad smile.
“How did you come to meet?”
Seliora flashed a smile. “We have individual guild memberships, because of the way we’re set up. I met Rhenn at one of the Samedi dances, and one thing led to another. There were interruptions. He couldn’t leave Imagisle for a time, and I was gone for a month this past summer. We had to visit a number of textile manufactories.”
“You must tell us a little about your family. . . .”
“It is a rather large family. . . .” Seliora continued, gently, sometimes humorously, beginning with Grandmama Diestra and continuing down toward the youngest. “. . . and the twins, they’re Odelia’s younger sisters. Because I seemed so much older, they decided that I had to be their aunt, not their cousin . . .”
The bell signifying dinner was ready rang.
“This is most interesting, but we should repair to table.” Mother rose, moving to make sure she was the one guiding Seliora to the dining chamber, through the direct door from the formal parlor, the one that was so seldom used. “This way, dear.”