“He does understand the services that you sell? And what it means that you would not accept his coin for the night?”
Asharan buried his face in both hands again, with a tragic almost-whimper.
Shai Vishal sighed. “I do not judge your work,” he said. “Truly I do not. But if…”How to say this obliquely enough, but still clearly…?“If your partner is expected to continue a family’s bloodline, then he may well understand the pressure of… something like your neighborhood aunties’ hen-pecking. I cannotswearthat he understands, of course. But it seems likely that he would understand, if that might settle your heart.”
He did not suggest Asharan attempt to find his beloved to hold the conversation for clarity’s sake, as he might have if he’d thought the beloved were simply a wealthy and round merchant. Vishal didn’t wish to be cruel with his dissembling of ignorance.
Asharan looked up at him with wistful eyes, and said, “He would understand the pressures and expectations, yes. I never thought we would be likely to …continue. But I would never wish for him to feel so easilyreplaced.”
“And you ask me forpenance,” Shai Vishal murmured.
“It seemed a reasonable heart’s curative to ask from a priest?” Asharan said, rueful. “Surely I have erred, to feel such distress. Surely I have not foreseen how much trouble—” His voice caught short at that.
But Shai Vishal couldn’t let himself warn him about that, not without tipping his hand as to whyforeseeing troublecaught at his attention.
Instead, Vishal told him, “You would not have asked Shai Madhur for penance, would you.”
“Oh, mercy. I wouldn’t have troubled Shai Madhur’s innocent soul with matters of… of intimate entanglements.”
“So, in distress, rather than coming to Shai Madhur for comfort, you come to me for a scolding instead.”
“If you wouldn’t mind?” Asharan quipped, and then blinked at some slight flinch or wince he must have seen in Shai Vishal’s face. “It’s not — I mean — it’s not that I came to you expecting that you would hurt me, your Reverence. Shai Madhur is…sometimes he istookind. As his friend, I treasure his kindness. But I do not necessarily trust his judgment. Not in the intricacies of sex-charged relationships. I trust you to judge me fairly, if I can ever convince you that I do seek yourjudgment.”
And nowheis consolingme,Shai Vishal thought, unsettled.Not a moment’s political calculus in him, but he shares Madhur’s keen eye for heartache. What an unlikely pair they make in every other way, but I am glad they find comfort in their friendship.
Now if only I had any innate skill in comfort to offer this poor soul, in Madhur’s place.
But he has asked me for my judgment, and even flinched in the expectation of it. If he seeks a High Priest’s hand to lift the weight upon his soul, that hand must be mine.
I would not trust the sensitivity of this task to another. And, selfishly, I would not give another the leverage upon the Empire itself that he has unwittingly given me.
Shai Vishal cupped his hands to his brow, head bent, and opened himself to the guidance of his god.
The wicks of the oil lamps flickered and leapt, and Asharan’s eyes startled wide; distantly, Vishal wondered what an enchanter might see in the way that a god’s touch upon the soul guided a High Priest’s hand.
Upaja rarely spoke to Shai Vishal inwords,but sometimes He guided, gently. Dappled glimmers of light flickered in Vishal’s vision, like a god’s breath upon the lamps, or like reflections in a warm pool.
He saw himself stand, and so he stood. He saw himself settle beside the young man in themashrabiyaledge. He felt his hand touch Asharan’s cheek with a father’s touch, or with a benediction. Asharan caught his breath and closed his eyes, head bowed as though it were a treasure.
Vishal took a breath, and let Upaja’s inspiration guide his voice.
“You have done what you have done with a generous heart, with love and kindness,” he said. “You have celebrated your beloved and our priesthood alike. It may have been a precarious tumble, kitten, but you have landed lightly on your feet. In my judgment, you have meant no harm, and you have no cause for shame. If you still feel the need of penance?—”
Shai Vishal stopped to question his heart for a moment, uncertain whether this was truly divine guidance or merely his own selfishness, his own weakness to beauty. But an amused flicker danced through his soul like a firefly’s illumination.
“If you still feel the need of penance, pose for me when I prepare the next page ofThe Devotions.You will have more than enough time to contemplate love and generosity. And sitting still, in one place,withoutserving,withoutflitting about to tend to others’ needs…”
He felt Asharan’s flinch at that, even before the young man started to chuckle.
“Yes, I would struggle. That lance of insight is keenly barbed, your Reverence.”
“We both know Shai Madhur. I have known him all his life,” Shai Vishal said, rueful. “Over the years, I have witnessed a dozen of my own priesthood so driven to generosity, so driven to give all we have, that we struggle torest. I do recognize the signs when I see them in you. And if you must have your penance, then let it be an informative penance.”
“Thank you, your Reverence.” Asharan looked up at him with a kitten’s mischief-glimmer in the shining jade of his eyes. “By your God’s abundant generosity, may I be so bold as to pray for a miracle of gossip-management?”
“Some forces are beyond even the gods’ own might,” Shai Vishal said, feelingly.
Asharan burst into peals of laughter.
