The next morning, Lucretia was surprised to find the office empty, the door still locked, when she arrived. Dihya usually beat her there, eager to start sorting through the day’s tasks and identifying matters that needed Lucretia’s input.
Then, she remembered last night had been the dinner Dihya had arranged for Caeso to meet Tadla. Perhaps it had gone late into the evening, which could only be a good sign. She didn’t begrudge Dihya the occasional late start, especially when it concerned Tadla’s future.
An hour later, Lucretia heard the outer door of the office opening. She went into the front room, excited to hear all about the important dinner.
But Dihya looked terrible, with dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her curly dark hair was hastily braided, several tendrils escaping—far from her usual neat arrangement.
“Oh, Lucretia!” Dihya groaned. “Everything is ruined!” She collapsed into a chair and buried her head in her hands.
“Blessed Juno, what’s wrong?” Lucretia went straight to her, patting her shoulder. “Is Tadla all right?”
“She’shumiliated!” Dihya cried.
“By the gods, what happened?” Lucretia demanded. A tide of concern rose within her. She had never seen Dihya this distraught. Dihya had even borne the loss of her husband with stoic grief.
Dihya took a steadying breath. “I still hardly know. The meal was going well enough. Tadla barely said a word, so it was mostly me and Caeso talking. I was telling him all about how talented, how sweet she is. But I wanted to give them a chance to talk alone, to get to know each other. So I made an excuse to leave the table, and went into the other room.” She pressed a hand over her eyes as if she could block out the memory of whatever had happened.
Lucretia lowered herself to her knees next to Dihya’s chair, gripping her friend’s hand. “Did he—did he try something with her when you were gone? I swear by Juno, I will burn down his bakery if he disrespected your daughter.” Caeso had always struck her as most courteous and thoughtful in their brief interactions, but then again she didn’t know him well.
Dihya shook her head woefully. “Dis, I can barely think of it without wanting to die. Or murder him. Or both.” She twisted a lock of unbraided hair in anxious fingers. “He followed me into the other room. He said something about how grateful he was for the chance to get to know me better. And then—and then—he tried to kissme!”
Lucretia’s mouth dropped open. Maybe she hadn’t been entirely wrong about a certain attraction between them. At least on Caeso’s part. “Did you let him?”
“No, of course not!” Dihya gave her a scandalized look. “I slapped him and threw him out.”
“Oh, Dihya.” Lucretia stroked Dihya’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“I just don’t know how he could have thought—I mean, the nerve of him!” Dihya spluttered. “To kissme—his potential bride’smother!”
Lucretia hesitated. “To be quite honest, I had thought there was some attraction between you. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he wished to court you, not Tadla.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Dihya protested.
“Is it?” Lucretia raised her eyebrows. Matters of the heart must be Dihya’s blind spot. She could read and write multiple languages, perfectly recall months-old conversations, and run calculations in her head without an abacus, but it seemed she couldn’t figure out when a man was obviously interested in her. “I’ve seen you talk and laugh together when we visit his stall. More than I would think possible for something as simple as buying some bread. And the way he looks at you…” She gave a meaningful shrug.
“Of course I enjoy speaking with him. That’s why I thought he would be a good match for Tadla.”
“Do you find him handsome?”
“Of course!” Dihya said. “Or else I never would have thought of him for Tadla.”
“With respect, I don’t think it’s normal for mothers to be attracted to their potential sons-in-law.” Lucretia gave Dihya a searching look. “Is it possible there might have been some…confusion? A misunderstanding over what the dinner was about?”
“I don’t see how there could have been,” Dihya said. “I was quite clear. I told him all about Tadla.”
“Did you explicitly say you wanted him to marry her? Did he clearly say he was interested in her?”
Dihya closed her eyes, brow furrowing. “Well…I’m not sure. But why else would I have invited him to dinner?”
Lucretia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Helikesyou, Dihya. He wants you, not Tadla.”
“Impossible!” Dihya shook her head, adamant. “Everything we talked about had to do with my daughter. I told him how beautiful she was, how skilled in weaving, how good-natured she is…”
“And what did he say to all that?”
Dihya swallowed, the resolute expression fading from her face. An uncertain frown pulled at her mouth. “When I spoke of her beauty, he said there must be a close resemblance between mother and daughter. And when I mentioned her weaving, he said what a great teacher she must have had. And…” Her voice trailed off. “Oh no.Oh no!”
Lucretia bit back a laugh. “He was trying to flirt with you, I fear. And you would only talk about your daughter, so he worked with what he had.”
