wrong to marry an unwilling woman. I can argue it to be the lesser evil,
but if we two work together, I think the issue might be avoided altogether."
Issandra returned to her seat, sighing. She looked older than when Otah
had first met her.
"It won't be simple," Issandra said.
"What won't be simple?" Danat asked.
"Wooing my daughter," Issandra said. "What did you think we were talking
about?"
Otah took a bit of dried apple in his mouth while Danat blinked. Words
stumbled over the boy's tongue without finding a sentence.
"You won't have a different girl for fear she'll hate you and lie about
it," Otah said in the tone of a man explaining the solution of a simple
mechanical problem. "Ana, we are all quite aware, isn't going to hide
her feelings on the matter. So if she chooses you, you can believe her.
Yes?"
"We have a small advantage in that her present lover is something of a
cow," Issandra said. "I suspect that, had the circumstances been
otherwise, she would already have grown tired of him. But he's a point
of pride now" She fixed Danat with her eyes. "You have a hard road
before you, son.
"You want me to seduce your daughter?" Danat asked, his voice breaking
slightly at seduce.
"Yes," Issandra said.
Danat sank to a cushion. His face flushed almost the color of sunset.
"I thought he might deliver an apology," Otah said. "It would give him a
reason to speak with Ana-cha in private, separate him from the political
aspect of the arrangement, and place him in her camp."
"Apologize for what?" Danat said.
"Well, for me," Otah said. "Express your shame that I would treat her so
poorly."
"She'll smell that in a heartbeat," Issandra said. "And if you begin by
giving her the upper hand, you'll never have it back. Ask an apology
from her. Respect her objections, but tell her she was wrong in humiliat
ing you. You are as much a pawn in this as she is. And do you have a lover?"
"I ... I was..."
"Well, find one," Issandra said. "Preferably someone prettier than my
daughter. You needn't look shocked, my boy. I've lived my life in court.
While you poor dears are out swinging knives at each other, there are
wars just as bloody at every grand ball."
A scratching came at the door, followed by a servant woman. She took a
pose of abject apology.
"Most High, there's a courier for you."
"It can wait," Otah said. "Or if it can't, send for Sinja-cha."
"The courier's come from Chaburi-Tan," the servant said. "The letter is
sealed and signed for you alone. He says the issue is urgent."
Otah cursed under his breath, but he rose. As he stepped out to the
antechamber, he heard Danat and Issandra resume the conversation without
him. The antechamber felt as close as a grave, heavy tapestries killing
any sound from within the greater meeting room. The courier was a young