The servant offered another cup of tea. Cajeiri’s stomach was already upset with the first. “No,” he said, “thank you, nadi.”
His father set his teacup aside, then. His mother did, very quietly and almost untasted, on the small side table on her side.
“Have you anything to say, young gentleman?” his father asked.
He was calm. Numb. He said, quietly, “One very much regrets, honored Father, honored Mother. It was an accident. We attempted to get Boji back.”
His father asked: “What, in your briefest account, happened?”
He took a breath, took a firm grip on the chair arms and gave a polite, time-consuming nod while he was thinking where to start—mani always said, the courtesies were a good way to stall and think. “Honored father, honored Mother,” he began, “I was feeding Boji when Metiso-nadi opened my door. Boji was scared: he broke free and headed up. Metiso-nadi kept the door open. We shouted at her to close the door, but she didn’t, and he went out right past her.”
His father said. “You had given particular instructions to limit the servants coming to your suite.”
“Yes, Father.”
“You so instructed Eisi that he and his cousin should be the only persons to come into your suite for any reason.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I shall stay out of this,” his father said, settling back and folding his arms. “Talk to your mother.”
“Yes, Father,” he said, with a lump in his throat.
“Understand,” his mother said, “that I did not instruct Metiso to enter your room.”
“One is very sorry for what happened, honored Mother.”
“Let me explain, son of mine. My father, your grandfather, has been told he will now not have dinner here, tonight.”
“I am very sorry for that, honored Mother!”
“Listen to me. Hear me. As of this hour, my major domo, Lady Adsi, who has been with me since I was born, and all my servants, and my bodyguard, are all sent back to Ajuri.”
“Honored Mother!”
“One has had to make a choice,” his mother said with icy calm. “My servant heard that there was something going on in your apartment and was attempting to gather information, coming into an area not assigned to her. It seems superfluous to point out that you are not a foreign enemy and I have no need to spy on my son.”
His heart was beating very fast. He knew sarcasm. He knew mani’s kind of expression. And a boy was smarter not to say a thing.
“Your father’s security has checked the phone records between my household and Ajuri. Metiso-nadi’s calls have been frequent and direct to her male cousin, on my father’s personal staff. She does not call her mother nearly so frequently. More, she has continually gotten phone access, which is under Lady Adsi’s supervision—and my bodyguard, which my father sent this year, has said nothing.”
He hardly knew what to say.
“I have, at this point, the choice,” she said, “between Ajuri and marriage to your father.”
Words stuck in his throat. He looked at his father, at her lastly.
“So I ask, son of mine, your sentiment in the matter. Answer me. Is your man’chi to your great-grandmother or to your father?”
That was a scary question. A very scary question. When it got that scary, the truth was sometimes the best way. “One has never seen a difference, honored Mother.”
“And have you,” his mother asked, “man’chi at all to me, son of mine?”
“Of course I do!”
“And to your grandfather?”
He was caught with his mouth open. He hesitated. And it was too late.
“No, honored Mother. I am sorry.”
“And if I were not sitting here, would you have claimed it to me?”
“You aremy mother! One does not want to lose you!”
“And if put to a choice between your great-grandmother’s instructions and mine, which would you obey?”
He drew a deep breath, and told the truth. “Wherever I would be,” he said. “Either one of you—I have to obey, honored Mother!”
There was a lengthy silence, with his mother looking straight at him in a degree of upset he had never seen her show.
“You would have launched your guard at minecto protect an animal.”
“To protect us, honored Mother. To protect us.”He said it accusingly, to have her understand. “You frightenedus.”
“You felt something in that room. In my staff.” She shook her head. “Son of mine, we have wondered if you pick up certain signalscbrought up as you were, with humans.”
“There is nothing wrong with humans!”
“One understands nand’ Bren is your particular associate. And you have gained permission for your young associates to visit.”
“Yes, honored Mother.”
“And you prefer your great-grandmother’s household to me. What am I to think?”
He hardly knew what to say. “Great-grandmother is—” he began. “I was with her. I have been with her all my life. I wantto be respectful toward you, honored Mother. I am not a bad son. Great-grandmother never thinks I am a bad great-grandson.”
His mother said nothing to that, for a long, long moment. “I have never called you a bad son.”
“But you think it. You think I meant to ruin the nursery! You think I would harm my sister!”
“I believe you,” his mother said. “I have been worried. I have been listening, perhaps, to servants who have not offered the best advice.” His mother’s face looked very sad, very tired. “I never wanted to give you up.”
“I was too little to have any choice, honored Mother. But one still wants to understand my Ajuri side! And my Atageini side.”
“Your great-uncle,” his mother said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “And your grandfather.”
“Your grandfather ,”his father said, suddenly, “is ambitious. One could forgive that. But one cannot forgive other activities.”
“One cannot forgive,” his mother said sadly, “his spying on my son. And on me. I shall miss my staff. I shall be quite alone here. I wish my son might understand that.”
“I am here,” Cajeiri was moved to say. “I do not mind being here. But—”
No, it was probably not the most auspicious time to argue about Boji. With luck, his mother would just let the matter fall.
“You have had a large life,” his mother said, “and this is a small apartment.”
“Yet I am happy in it.”
“You want that creature,” his mother said. “Will you keep him in your suite?”
“Beyond any doubt, honored Mother! I shall be very happy to keep him in, and train him, so he can be safe with my sister!”
“Do you wanta sister?”
“One hopes to,” he said. “One hopes to be a good son, honored Mother. One truly does. And you will have a baby to take care of, and we will all be especially good, honored Mother.”
“I have no lady servant now,” his mother said, suddenly upset. “I have no lady servant.”
“We will mend that,” his father said. “We will mend that tomorrow. One promises.”
She leaned forward, hands clasped on her knees. “Son of mine, shall I stay married to your father? Or not?”
“You have to! My father relies on you! And neither of you should be alone!”
“You constantly tell me how your great-grandmother does things. You consider her advice ahead of mine.”
“I have lived with you very little, honored Mother, but I think you are very smart, or my father would not listen to you. And he does. So I should.”
His mother looked at him without saying anything, seeming upset. Or not. He was not sure. “You are assuredly her handiwork,” his mother said with a shake of her head, “and your father’s. What a pair you are!”
“Yet—she should stay, should she not, honored Father?”