Read THE (tlpq-4) for Free Online Page A

a rope.
    The way they chuckle when they're small. Ana's never heard that. The way
    their hair smells ..."
     
    She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Otah leaned forward, his hand
    on the woman's wrist.
     
    "I remember," he said softly, and she smiled.
     
    "It's beside the matter," she said.
     
    "It's at the center of the matter," Otah said, falling reflexively into
    a pose of disagreement. "And it's the part upon which we agree. Forgive
    me if I am being forward, but you are offering your support for my
    treaty in exchange for a marriage between our families? Your daughter
    and my son."
     
    "Yes," she said. "I am."
     
    "There may be others who ask the same price. There is a tradition among
    my people of the Khai taking several wives...."
     
    "You didn't."
     
    "No," Otah agreed. "I didn't."
     
    The wasp returned, buzzing at Otah's ear. He didn't raise a hand, and
    the insect landed on the brightly embroidered silk of his sleeve.
    Issandra Dasin, mother of his son's future wife, leaned forward
    gracefully and crushed it between her fingers.
     
    "No other wives," she said.
     
    "I would need assurances that the vote would be decisive," Otah said.
     
    "You'll have them. I am a more influential woman than I seem."
     
    Otah looked up. Above them, the sun burned behind a thin scrim of cloud.
    The same light fell in Utani, spilling through the windows of Danat's
    palace. If only there were some way to whisper to the sun and have it
    relay the message to Danat: Are you certain you'll take this risk? A
    life spent with a woman whom you've never met, whom you may never love?
     
    His son had seen twenty summers and was by all rights a man. Before the
    great diplomatic horde had left for Galt, they had discussed the
    likelihood of a bargain of this sort. Danat hadn't hesitated. If it was
    a price, he'd pay it. His face had been solemn when he'd said it. Solemn
    and certain, and as ignorant as Otah himself had been at that age. There
    was nothing else either of them could have said. And nothing different
    that Otah could do now, except put off the moment for another few
    breaths by staring up at the blinding sun.
     
    "Very well," Otah said. Then again, "Very well."
     
    "You also have a daughter," the woman said. "The elder child?"
     
    "Yes," Otah said.
     
    "Does she have a claim as heir?"
     
    The image appeared in his mind unbidden: Eiah draped in golden robes and
    gems woven into her hair as she dressed a patient's wounds. Otah
    chuckled, then saw the beginnings of offense in his guest's expression.
    He thought it might not be wise to appear amused at the idea of a woman
    in power.
     
    "She wouldn't take the job if you begged her," Otah said. "She's a
    smart, strong-willed woman, but court politics give her a rash."
     
    "But if she changed her mind. Twenty years from now, who can say that
    her opinions won't have shifted?"
     
    "It wouldn't matter," Otah said. "There is no tradition of empresses.
    Nor, I think, of women on your own High Council."
     
    She snorted derisively, but Otah saw he had scored his point. She
    considered for a moment, then with a deep breath allowed herself to relax.
     
    "Well then. It seems we have an agreement."
     
    "Yes," Otah said.
     
    She stood and adopted a pose that she had clearly practiced with a
    specialist in etiquette. It was in essence a greeting, with nuances of a
    contract being formed and the informality that came with close relations.
     
    "Welcome to my family, Most High," she said in his language. Otah
    replied with a pose that accepted the welcome, and if its precise
    meaning was lost on her, the gist was clear enough.
     
    After she had left, Otah strolled through the gardens, insulated by his
    rank from everyone he met. The trees seemed straighter than he
    remembered, the birdsong more delicate. A weariness he only half-knew
    had been upon him had lifted, and he felt warm and energetic in a way he
    hadn't in months. He made his way at length to his suite, his rooms,