Ba’an told her, leaving out the bits about magic and the visit from her former apprentices. Even so, it made for a surprisingly dramatic story.

“House Helios?” Merida stared. “Ba’an. Marry that man. Do it.”

Ba’an frowned. “I do not know if it is wise, Merida.”

“Ba’an. The emperor is a Helios. The emperor. They are a huge family. They own ports. They’re wealthy, and many of their sons are politicians. They have money, power, clout. Ba’an. You would be secure for life.”

Yes, Emperor Stephanos was a Helios. If Ba’an ever met him she would take his soul and unmake him. Slowly.

She would ensure he felt every second of agon—

No.

Lukios. If she did this it was possible that he would be implicated. She stifled a sigh. No, she would not risk Lukios in this way, and besides—it would never happen. Ba’an would return to her not-vuti soon and that would be that. There was no use in thinking this way.

Merida was speaking, sounding more excited than Ba’an felt. “Lukios, Lukios. Hm, I have not heard of a son of Helios named ‘Lukios,’ but the name sounds familiar. Where did I hear it?” Merida’s brows were furrowed. “I am sure I have heard the name somewhere, but I cannot remember it now.” She sighed, sounding much more disappointed than Ba’an felt. “I am sorry, Ba’an.”

Ba’an did not think it kind to tell Merida that Lukios was an adopted Helios, not a born one. It was not something she needed to know, and perhaps it was something Lukios kept to himself.

She kept her peace, shaking her head. “Merida. It is well. You do not have to tell me anything about Lukios. And…” She glanced guiltily into her teacup. “We have only been talking about me. But you…”

“Oh!” She waved her hand. “My life is the same as always, Ba’an. I see patients. I treat them. They go home and sometimes they come back with more than my fee.” She gestured to the tea. “This was a thank you gift. What do you think? It is a type of tea we have in our homeland called aiobous. Does it suit your taste?”

It did. It had a mild, slightly astringent taste, but in the aftermath there was a kind of sweetness on her tongue.

“Yes. There are layers.”

Merida smiled at the response. “Here then. I’ll give you some to take.”

“What? Merida, I cannot accept more. You have already…”

“Such fuss, Ba’an. We have known each other nearly five years now. I wish to give you a gift, so I will give you a gift.”

It would be rude to refuse again. “I…thank you.” Flustered, Ba’an tried to think of something she could give her in return.

“Stop. I know what you are thinking. It is a gift. Only take it and enjoy it.”

“Th—thank you Merida. For the tea, and…your care as well.”

Merida’s smile was very pleased. Someone knocked on the door.

It was Lukios. “All done, or should I come back?”

“We are finished, thank you.” Merida beamed. “Did you eat? Would you like something to take?”

“Oh, that’s a kind offer. I did eat, though.” He smiled. “My thanks for taking care of Ba’an.” Merida’s smile widened and she flashed Ba’an a knowing look.

Merida placed a hand briefly on Ba’an’s shoulder as she left. “Ba’an. Think on what I said.” Her eyes flickered to Lukios, then back to Ba’an.

Once the door closed, Lukios asked, “Do I want to know?”

She shook her head. “No. No, you do not.”

He laughed. “If her advice was to keep me, you should take it.” He took one look at her flushed face and smiled. “I think I like her.”

Lukios had been very efficient. He had sold the hides already, getting nearly twice what she would have gotten. This annoyed Ba’an, because it meant that the men she had been trading with had been cheating her much more than she had thought they were. It was infuriating, especially since she had been doing business with them for nearly five years.

“I’m not taking your money, Ba’an.” Lukios shook his head.

“But you did the trapping and the skinning and the tanning and the trading. And there is more money than usual. You must take your share.”

“Ba’an. I’m fine. I don’t even need it. I’m not taking it.”

They were sitting in an open courtyard right below the acropolis, half-hidden by the trees. Even so, it was not wise to show off money in public, so the argument was verbal only.

“But…”

“Ba’an.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Everything went fine. Turned out Gaios is in Kyros so he came down and we chatted. He sure was shocked I was still alive and kicking, I can tell you that. Anyway, the paperwork for the loan’s been all sorted and we’re looking for a lawyer now. Turns out everyone thinks I’m dead, so I’ve got my work cut out for me. Well, that stuff is all going to take time. For now, we can go shopping. Let’s get you a dress. Dresses, actually. And a mirror. You could do with another set of knives, too. Oh, and…”

Gods above and below. The man was determined.

“This one?” Lukios held up an earring, holding it right where it would sit on her earlobe. It was pretty, made of gold and amber. The stone had gleamed at her, reminding her of Lukios’ eyes. She had looked. That had been a mistake.

Lukios turned to the table full of jewellery. “I think it comes with a necklace too.”

The merchant looked on with glee. “Yes, it does! Here. And here. There are two styles. I think this one would show off those collarbones.” He gestured to the necklaces on display. There was one that was long, meant to coil around a woman’s neck two or three times. Another one was in the style of a web, with the beads sitting in the space between the crisscrossing threads.

Ba’an schooled her expression into something neutral and cool. She did not wish to offend, but she did not wish to encourage, either.

“I do not need a necklace.”

“Well, I can get you a set and you can decide if you want to wear them or not.” Lukios’ tone was still cheerful, but she could tell he would not be dissuaded. He was very determined, though why this was, Ba’an could not even begin to guess.

The merchant was nodding enthusiastically. It annoyed her.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like the earrings, at least. You were looking at them.”

She looked at them again. They were drop earrings, too fancy for everyday wear—at least, for K’Avaari. The gold thread was fine, and the amber had been shaped into perfect teardrops. She could see flecks of leaves and detritus inside, little bits of history caught in a sticky trap. The dangling amber bobs were polished so they shone in the sun.

They reminded her strongly of Lukios’ eyes, and she did want them. They would be a very nice memento of their time together, if he did not keep his word.

Surely just the earrings would be acceptable? Ba’an’s hand started to lift on its own, to touch the necklace of teeth she was no longer wearing. She stopped, but it was too late: there was no chance that Lukios had not noticed, not with the way he was watching her.

Lukios didn’t hesitate. “Right, so we’ll take these. And may as well take those two as well.” The merchant went to wrap them, but Lukios kept the earrings in hand.

“Here.” He lifted her hood briefly so he could fasten them onto her ears. He gently tugged out the bone studs that had sat there and put them into his pouch. Then, with a light, experienced touch, he worked the golden endpins into her ears. The earrings were light, the metal and stone cool where they touched her skin.

Lukios looked at her for a moment, his gaze warm and appreciative. “Beautiful.”

Ba’an could feel herself blushing. “Yes, they are. Thank you, Lukios.” Hastily, she pulled her hood back on.

“I was talking about you.” Lukios sounded only mildly exasperated, his eyes still on her face. His smile was fond and soft. “What'll I do with you, Ba’an?” He drew her closer, settling his chin on her head over her hood. “Honestly…”

“Your purchases, sir.”

Lukios broke away to thank him and take the packages. Ba’an tried to stop her heart from beating out of her chest. It had been only three days since they had joined their bodies, but it felt longer. Her skin seemed to prickle beneath her clothes, and she knew she wanted him. If she did not have him again soon, she would…

Ba’an sighed. Lukios caught up and put his arm around her waist.

“I know,” he said, voice low and quiet. “We’ll have some privacy soon.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s get you some clothes. Might not be the best idea to walk into Gaios’ place wearing that coat of yours, you know? He’ll definitely recognize that.”

It was a practical suggestion, one that Ba’an had no way of countering. There was no way she could wear her travel cloak indefinitely while a guest in another’s home. That would be very rude.

Still, she sighed. “Very well.” Ba’an let him keep his arm around her waist, even though there were still people out in public. “But we must get you something too.” She tugged on his blanket-cloak, wrinkling her nose with distaste. “This is not acceptable.”

Lukios, as usual, only smiled agreeably. “Whatever you want, Ba’an.”

Gaios lived in the acropolis. This was, apparently, his city estate, and he had another one out in the countryside somewhere. Ba’an had passed beneath the shadow of his estate walls many times, but she had always assumed it was some government building: the walls were high and sturdy, and the civil offices were right beside it. She had never imagined it to be a residential property.

Stepping through the gates, Ba’an felt that she had left Kyros altogether. Rather than being filthy and crowded, the estate was large and airy, with an immaculate courtyard full of water and green, growing things. The noises from the city still floated in, but they seemed muted somehow, muffled, and easy to ignore. Craning her neck up, she could see that the top floors were very high up indeed, and the rooms had balconies—she could likely see the entire city from any one of them.

The estate was large enough to fit at least half her former tribe, assuming the space inside was used efficiently—which it likely wasn’t. Opulence was never about efficiency.

“Lukios!” Gaios looked to be a stern man, but he held out his arms and Lukios went and hugged him. Lukios kissed him on the cheek then drew back, and they clasped their hands together firmly before releasing. They were both smiling, though the expression sat uneasily on the older man’s face. Ba’an guessed he did not smile or laugh much.

“Gaios. Thank you for having us.” Lukios walked back to her and put his hand on Ba’an’s back pressing lightly. “I’d like to introduce you to Ba’an.”

Gaios did not offer to hug or kiss her, which was a relief. He only nodded his head at her in a respectful way. “Welcome, lady Ba’an. You have my thanks for your rescue of our Lukios here. We mourned his loss greatly.”

Gaios was older than Ba’an by perhaps twenty years or so. His hair had started greying and he had deep lines around his mouth and at the corner of his eyes. His skin was tanned and rough in a way that suggested he spent a great deal of time out in the sun. He was still trim and fit, despite his obvious age. His clothes were of the highest quality, though they were unornamented. She could see he was not an ostentatious man. He stood the same way Lukios did, and he was light on his feet. A military man, through and through. His only decoration was a signet ring.

“I thank you for your hospitality.” Ba’an inclined her head solemnly, hands held open with the palms showing. She was not sure what outlanders did, so she had defaulted to the K’Avaari custom. It was confusing. Ba’an was no longer a witch, and she was no longer one of the People either, which meant she had no rank. Perhaps she should bow lower?

Gaios didn’t seem to particularly mind what she did. She snuck a glance at Lukios and he only smiled, not at all disturbed or embarrassed, so she assumed her behaviour was acceptable. She would have to ask him later what outlanders did in these situations.

“I have to say, Lukios,” Gaios was saying, “I’m glad I was wrong. I was so sure you’d done some fool thing like run after them alone. I expected you’d died somewhere in the sands.”

Lukios laughed. “Well, I would have if I could have. You’re not wrong.”

They were shown to their rooms. Plural. Lukios’ room was not even in the same wing.

“I’ll send up someone to take you to the baths and then down to dinner. We have much to talk about.” He left, and the servants ushered her down the hallway toward her room. Lukios gave her a look over his shoulder that said, we’ll talk later as he was herded in the opposite direction. He looked mildly amused by the treatment.

Ba’an’s things had already been brought up and placed in her room. She wasn’t sure when they’d been taken from Lukios and deposited, but she had been very distracted with the new sights and sounds and focused on not humiliating Lukios with her bad manners. Ba’an did not care what outlanders thought of her, but she cared what they thought of Lukios.

She disliked the idea of embarrassing him in front of his friends; she had asked him to explain manners, and he had, but hearing about something and then doing it was…difficult.

And on top of that, there had been gaps. She had not asked Lukios how she should greet his friends and he had not thought to tell her. Perhaps it did not matter provided she did not attack them? It was difficult to say.

He had told her their names, though, among other things. It was unbelievable, but one of them was—

“Kyria? May I take your cloak?”

Ba’an handed it to her, at a loss. Only Thu’rin and her parents had ever hung her cloak for her, and that had been out of love and affection. She did not know if it was more polite to accept or to refuse, so she did as requested.

The servant, a young Dolkoi’ri girl, took her travel-cloak from her. Ba’an was glad she had already changed in the little shop where she had bought her clothes, because otherwise she would have been found out immediately.

The dress she wore now was not tailored to her—Lukios had ordered some, but they would not be ready for a few days at least—and was only a long woman’s chiton that knotted at the shoulders. There was a very pretty shawl as well. She liked them.

The fabric was not dyed, though the fasteners at the shoulders were very fine metal work in the shape of a half-moon. Her shawl had tassels, and they hung very gracefully. Lukios had gotten her new shoes as well—good walking sandals with coverage over her toes and heels.

Ba’an’s coat was in her bag, hidden underneath everything else. She hoped she would not need it during her stay here.

The Dolkoi’ri girl was talking. “I will take you to the bathhouse. Will you change before dinner as well?” Ba’an blinked. Oh. This was…was she supposed to wear something else?

“Child,” she said, and the girl looked askance at her. “What is your name?”

“My…? I am called Aika, kyria.”

“Aika. Tell me, is it custom here to change before dinner?” The girl looked taken aback by the question.

“It is a formal dinner tonight. It is customary to dress well at formal dinners.”

Ah. Of course.

“I see. Thank you. I have some other questions. As you see, I am from the desert. I do not know your customs.”

The girl, who could not have been more than fifteen, looked deeply flattered by her sudden authority. It made her eager to answer whatever questions Ba’an had.

They chatted all the way to the bathing room, and Aika even helped Ba’an wash herself. This was fortunate, as there were many, many oils and creams that Ba’an had never seen before.

By the end of the bath, Ba’an was very clean and fragrant, though her head was spinning from everything she’d tried to learn in so short a span of time. The strangeness of Dolkoi’ri custom made it difficult to grasp, though she did realize there was one important rule for women: smile silently and speak pleasantly when spoken to.

No wait, was it smile pleasantly and speak silently when spoken to?

Speak silently? Or don’t speak at all? Or—?

Or was it—

Ugh. She had gotten it mixed up already.

Ba’an was not sure how to do this. K’Avaari women said whatever they liked, when they liked. They were only pleasant when they wanted to be. If Ba’an had been silent it was because she had had nothing to say; if she had ever spoken pleasantly, it had been a good mood rather than strategy.

“What will you wear then, kyria?”

Ba’an rubbed her temples. This was going to be a long evening.