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hips.
 You are very famous, you know. And very different from Khys.
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He sighed and kissed my forehead lightly.  It is good to be with you, he
said, rising.  I only wish I understood his intent. And he went to the
window, sat with one leg thrown up on the sill.
Upon impulse, I joined him there, my fingers finding work upon the knotted
muscles of his shoulders. Leaning into it, he laughed softly.  We have come to
a strange pass, you and I, he remarked.
 Arrar, do you not read thoughts?
 Not when I can help it. And not those of a woman.
 I read Carth s report to Khys concerning you, I offered.
 Did you? He slid out from under my hands.  What did it say?
 That Khys should either eliminate you or seek to pacify you in some way.
 This situation could be part of either, he said after a time, in a voice
like steel scraping ice.  You have risked his anger for me. Why?
I regarded my ankles, sunk amid the cushions. My fingers attacked each other.
I had doubtless done so.
 I do not know, I murmured. I sat beside him upon the sill, our thighs
touching.  They say I am mad. Sometimes I am. I often do and think things that
make no sense. Though I tried to hide my disquiet, my voice was husked and
shaking. He put an arm around me, and I laid my head upon his shoulder.
 You are not mad, he whispered, almost angrily.  It is only what has befallen
you, and the way he uses you, that makes you think so.
 In his way, he cares for me, I excused him.
He spat a word I did not know.
 What does that mean? I asked him.
 It means that Khys cares for nothing but his hests Nothing.
 Do you think, I ventured, suddenly near tears,  that he will let you come to
me again? The room flickered. I fought it and the aching sadness that came
upon me. For a moment I saw him differently in my mind at another time,
another place.
 I do not know, he said, distant.  I will if I can.
But I cared no more for the answer. I slid from the sill and curled myself
among the cushions, sobbing. I heard my voice, begging his aid. And he
gathered me up in his arms and rocked me like a child, speaking to me in a
language I did not know. When I was drained of tears, he again couched me,
savagely.
 Clothe yourself, he said, slapping me upon the rump.  I have done all I can
do for you. He fished up his breech, his robe, his sandals.
 Where are you going? I asked, tying my s kim about me.
 I am going to take you, as I have been instructed, to the dharen, he said,
his brown eyes intent upon my face.
And though I tried to hide my fear, I know he saw it. I pulled my fingers from
where they clawed at the band upon my neck, smoothing the s kim over my hips
with them.
His brows knit, he pushed me lightly toward the door.
 I should not, he said, locking it again behind us,  speak to you of these
things, but I will. Do not let him terrorize you so. All masters pass. And you
have, as a woman, certain constraints you might use upon him. If I were you, I
would do so.
I looked up at him, uncomprehending.
 I have loved you, he added, low,  since I first saw you. We both live. For
now, that must be enough. If ever I can aid you, know that I will surely do
so.
And I walked upon awkward legs beside him, each footfall a surprise as my
weight thudded down. I wondered what to do. Khys, who had fathered my child,
had given me to this man, who would destroy him.
 Khys is my couch-mate, I reminded him, this stranger, before whom I had
exposed my madness, weeping and begging for aid. His hand kneaded the back of
my neck as we passed through the hall by the hulion tapestry. And the touch
reminded me of his way with my body, so different, so much more, than the
dharen s.
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I thought again of Khys, and by the time Sereth pushed open the doors to the
dharen s study, I was trembling. Within that room, mural-ceilinged, of thala
and silver, he sat at table with Vedrast. I knew the room. My child had been
conceived here not upon one of the six narrow couches, but upon the silvery
mat, beneath the dark-draperied windows. Tapers were lit upon the round table,
as they had been that night, though clusters of entrapped stars hovered high
in the keep s four corners.
Khys and Vedrast rose, bringing their bowls with them, and seated themselves
upon the thala-toned couches. Sereth propelled me gently forward.
I went to the dharen, brushed my lips against his sandal, sat back upon my
heels facing him.
 Sit down, Sereth, ordered Khys, indicating a place at his right. Sereth slid
down upon his spine, crossing his arms over his chest, his head low.
Khys s glance met Vedrast s, who now lounged supine on the couch to the
dharen s left.
I shifted, and he took note, scowling, as he turned to Sereth.
 How did you find her, arrar? asked Khys solicitously.
 Much diminished, he said, almost inaudibly, meeting Khys s gaze,
unflinching.
 But not so much so that you would not again couch her, Khys predicted, over
steepled fingers.
 No, not that much, Sereth agreed. His face was pale with concentration.
 You did well for me, in Dritira. And in hide diet, that which you did
outshone my brightest hopes. From what you did upon M ksakka, there have been
repercussions, but through no fault of yours. We were hoping that this  and he
indicated me  might please you. We are not ungracious. His eyes barely open,
Khys dug at Sereth. And that one s scar grew livid, and his body stiffened.
Sweat glistened upon his face. But he did not take his eyes from Khys s.
Between them, the air grew wavery, sparking sporadically.
Vedrast stood abruptly, his shoulders hunched, his face distraught.
And then, amazingly, Khys laughed out loud, and extended his hand to Sereth.
The arrar wiped his sweat-slicked face before he grasped it.
 When would you like this thing done? he asked.
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