“And considerable desperation,” Hira pointed out.
“That too. But still, I’m very sorry.”
“You’ll be even more sorry when the aunties decide this means we’re not sleeping with each other and they can start pushing their granddaughters on you again,” Kalyani said.
“Oh,hell,” Ashar groaned, rubbing both hands down his face. “I hadn’t thought of that either.”
“He must have beenverydesperate,” Kalyani said to Hira wryly. “What happened? He picked up another stray, didn’t he? What’s this one’s problem, trouble with the Imps or the gangs or the boss or some other sob story? Was this one bleeding or not?”
“Be fair,” Hira said. “He doesn’t sleep with the strays who need that kind of help.”
“Look at my face and tell me he doesn’t have a problem with feeding injured strays who get attached.”
“Oh, I didn’t say he doesn’t have a stray collecting problem.”
“Excuse me,” Ashar said, a bit defensively. “I’m standing right here. …And he wasn’t bleeding.”
“So where did you pick this one up?” Kalyani asked, hands folded across her chest.
“I met a man whom I discovered that I adore,” Ashar said, “who was not nearly practiced enough in believing that he could be adored for himself, body and soul, exactly as he is. I took great delight in enlightening him.”
“And, of course, there are complications,” Hira said.
“Of course there are complications,” Kalyani sighed. “This is Ashar we’re talking about. Ofcoursethere are complications.”
Hira made a sound halfway between a sneeze and a cough, whiskers twitching suspiciously.
“Yes, Hira, a point to you,” Ashar said wearily, leaning into the window ledge for support. “But we knew Kalyani would agree with you that I am difficult.”
“You nevertryto be difficult,” Kalyani said. “It just happens. Still, you’re giving me the Camellia Room for free this month.”
“As long as–”
“No, he’s not,” Hira told Kalyani, tail swishing. “Get your payback in a way that doesn’t impact our ability to pay the taxes and keep the roof over all our heads.”
“Fine, fine.” Kalyani tilted her head so that the thick, lush wave of her hair fell away from her good eye as she considered him. “You get to deal with Chetan for the next month.”
“I have tried,” Ashar sighed. “I will, of course, try again. But if he has not heard either of us the last dozen times we have both said that I do not own your hand to bestow in a marriage you are not interested in having, I am not terribly confident I will succeed in breaking through to him this time.”
“I don’t expect you to succeed,” Kalyani said. “I expect you to soak the annoyance, so that I don’t have to.”
“That’s fair,” Hira said, and sneezed her amusement at the mournful look Ashar gave her. “Itisfair, though. He’s civilized to you. You’re a man, and a human.”
“Human doesn’t help if you’re not also a man,” Kalyani said. “Not with Chetan.”
“What has he said to you?” Ashar asked, startled. “To me he sings your praises like a poet.”
“Of course he does,” Kalyani said, and pulled her hair forward and to the left, to hide some of the scarring on her face. “Never mind.”
“Kalyani, please tell me these things,” Ashar said, taking a step sideways to try to catch her good eye. “If I should stand in your place with him for the next month, please tell me what he’s said, so that I know whether what he tells me is different.”
“I can explain, if you want?” Hira said to Kalyani, quietly. “If you don’t want to have to explain it yourself. I’d thought you hadn’t wanted it explained.”
Kalyani struggled for a moment, then said, “I didn’t. I don’t. But it’s not Ashar’s fault I don’t. Thank you, Hira. No one’s in the Camellia Room yet?”
“It’s yours,” Ashar said, and pulled a wisp of incense-smoke from Pakhet’s window shrine to spin a guide-line for her fingers, steering carefully around the low tables and pillows scattered on the floor.
“Thanks, Ashar.” Kalyani leaned in and kissed his cheek, then followed the smoke-line to the Camellia Room and closed the door behind herself.
