“Thank you for being here,” Selemei said. “You made Pyaras very happy with that stamp.”
“He’s worth the trip, Lady,” said the doctor. “I’d take six of him over anyone else here.” Her half-green smile pulled sideways. “Except maybe that poor desperate girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing really. If you’ll permit, Lady, I’d prefer to talk about you. Have you had therapy for that leg?”
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Kartunnen’s specialized education made them audacious. “Of course,” she explained. “My Grivi and I worked on it. He helped me immensely.”
The doctor nodded. “I believe you should consider finding a proper Kartunnen therapist. With respect, women’s Imbati receive quality medical training, but sometimes they can be… too close to you, to see things clearly.”
How should she respond to that? Was that presumption? For a doctor to speak that way of a Higher like Grivi? But what if she was right?
“How long has it been since your injury?” the doctor asked.
“Two years.”
The doctor lowered her voice. “Pardon, but if it were me, I’d try not to get pregnant until I’d had it looked at.”
Now, that was most definitely presumption. “Oh, it’s that simple, then, is it?” Selemei snapped.
People in the crowd around them turned to look. The doctor bowed formally, and spoke toward the floor. “My sincere apologies, Lady.”
The urge to have her thrown out lasted only a split second, replaced by perverse curiosity. This doctor could answer questions. Selemei gathered her composure and smiled, her heart pounding.
“Well, that’s all right, of course, doctor,” she said. “No trouble at all.”
Deliberately, Selemei looked away toward a wysp that had drifted in. The bright spark was no larger than her smallest fingernail, and moved aimlessly, caught in the wake of one person’s movement, then another’s, casting twinkles through the gathering. Younger children pointed and grinned at it, while the older ones mimicked the adults’ casual ignorance. Selemei waited until nearby conversations gradually resumed. The doctor still watched her warily, and threaded a strand of red hair back behind one ear. When it seemed safe enough, Selemei stepped closer.
“Doctor,” she whispered. “Is it that simple? For—” she almost said for Lowers, but stopped herself. “For someone like you?”
The doctor gritted her teeth. “Will you have me punished, Lady?”
“Certainly not. May Mai strike me.”
“There are many ways, but here are three,” the doctor said, and counted on her long fingers. “One, exemerin. Two, ambnil. Three, swear off men.” Her eyes flitted briefly across the crowd, and she smirked. “Easier for some than for others.”
“Thank you, Kartunnen.”
“Everyone!” a voice shouted. A series of quick claps cut through the murmur of conversations. “Everyone, we have an announcement!”
Selemei turned. The men from the dining room were emerging, Vull and Xeref in the lead.
“I’d like to thank Vull for hosting us on such an auspicious occasion,” Xeref said. “A healthy boy joins us in the Pelismara Society with his proud father looking on. But in my heart, I can’t help but wonder, and perhaps you have, too, my cousins—how much more auspicious would this day be if Lady Indelis could be here?”
A sigh swayed the crowd; Vull nodded, pressing a fist over his mouth.
“Too many mothers give their lives in the name of the Race,” said Xeref. “The First Family could grow stronger and happier if they were still with us. That’s why Fedron and I will be bringing a new proposal to the Eminence, in the name of Lady Indelis. Our proposal will allow women whose lives have been endangered in childbirth to retire from their duties to the Race and dedicate themselves to the upbringing of their families. We appreciate your support.”
The crowd broke into murmurs—some shocked, but it seemed, some approving.
Xeref made his way to her side and took her arm. “Are you ready to go home, my love?”
“Yes, please!” Just look at the childlike mischief in his eyes… She managed to suppress a grin, but couldn’t help glancing at him, over and over. When they passed the wysp on their way into the private rooms to gather children and servants, it seemed similarly attracted by his energy; it swirled around and through his coattails, not drifting off until they’d left the party and started down the hall toward home. As soon as no one was looking, Selemei’s grin escaped to her face.
Me, legally retired? Ah, Xeref!
Of course, it was always challenging to get the children settled after the excitement of a party. Selemei kissed Corrim goodnight, fingering a lock of his hair. Now that he was eleven, he professed himself too old for such intimacies, but she’d get away with it as long as she was able. Such soft, soft curls—the perfect cross between Xeref’s straight hair and her own.
“Mother?” Corrim turned his head, pulling the curl from her grasp. “Has Father made a lot of laws?”
She frowned. “I think so.”
“Which ones?”
“He’s participated in votes for all of them. I’m not sure how many times he’s proposed his own; you should ask him.”
“Do you think the Eminence Indal will like this new one?”
She should have known he’d hear; rumors were as swift and unquenchable as wysp-fire. “I hope so.”
“When is Brinx coming home?”
Selemei glanced to the other brass-framed bed, which the Household had perfectly arranged with sheets turned back for whenever her eldest returned from his evening with friends. “Late, sweet boy. Please don’t wait up.”
Corrim grunted, but when she leaned down to him, accepted a kiss.
“Mistress?” came a disembodied voice from behind the servants’ curtain. “Please, Mistress, if you would attend your daughter?”
Oh, no. I could have sworn Pelli was sleeping like a stone… “I’m on my way.”
Selemei walked on her Grivi’s arm into the hallway, and together they hurried to the girls’ room. He pulled open the heavy bronze door for her.
Mercy…
Pelli was sleeping like a stone, arms and legs flung wide, her covers tossed off and her pillow on the floor. The muffled sobs came from the other bed.
“Aven?” Selemei whispered.
Aven sat bolt upright, still sobbing, and reached for her with both hands. Selemei limped to her bed and sat down. Aven’s hands clutched hard enough to hurt, and she wormed into Selemei’s lap.
“Aven, my sweet Aven, what in the name of mercy?” Selemei murmured, stroking her back. “I’m here, everything’s all right, I promise. What’s wrong?”
Aven sobbed something into her shoulder.
“I don’t understand.”
“Mama, you almost died!”
Mercy, indeed. She’s so smart. For a second, it hurt to swallow. “My darling,” she managed, “that was about Lady Indelis.”
Aven pulled back and scowled, sobs turned to outrage. “No it wasn’t.”
“All right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, you’re right.” She found Aven’s hands and gave them a tug. “But I didn’t die. By Elinda’s forbearance I’m here now, sweet one, and I love you.”
“It’s not fair.” Aven’s arms lifted from her waist to drape over her shoulders, and the girl nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “Why do we have the decline anyway, when Lowers don’t?”
“I don’t know, love.” Every parent faced this moment. Somehow it never got any easier, even after going through it with each of her older children. “I guess, we have to remember that each of us has our time. We can take good care of ourselves, but we don’t get to choose. Some people are never born. Some are never confirmed, and live hidden. Some are here one day and gone the next. My mother used to tell me that Mother Elinda loves the Race the most of all the people of Varin, and puts us in special constellations.”