Page 136 of The Boy Bride

“There’s more to our family’s honour than what Da wants.”

Khatu nodded. “And the way I see it, if Otoni has my kid, it’s part of the family too, and I’ve got to consider what’s best for it. What do you say?”

Lill looked up from his cup, surprised to be asked for an opinion. “I think … ” Nobody considered what was best for a child when family honour was at stake. Did they? Nobody in his own family had. “You’ll be a good father, Khatu.”

Barda laughed, and Khatu kicked him with his good leg. The dog lifted her head and barked reprovingly at them.

“Are you gonna name her, Lill?” Barda scratched the base of the dog’s fluffy ears.

“If you want. How about … Jin?” Lill suggested unimaginatively. “It means ‘friend’ in my native language.”

“It suits her,” said Khatu.

“Perfect,” said Barda. “Jin,” he cooed at the dog. “Friend Jin, you’re a good dog.”

“If you and Otoni marry,” said Lill, “will we get to do another bride hunt?”

“I guess we will.” Khatu looked a little daunted by the prospect.

“Another one without the bride’s actual family being involved,” said Barda.

“Padunu will have a conniption,” said Lill.

Barda laughed and raised his cup. “I’ll drink to that.”

* * *

Lill had been looking forward to bedtime all day. At intervals he felt himself strangely conscious of his own body under his clothing, and the sight of Vanu seemed to do new and disconcerting things to him.

And he was also dreading bedtime, dreading being alone with Vanu, because he didn’t know how to do any of this. Now that he was no longer hiding from himself, now that he had destroyed his armour and cracked himself down the middle by realizing he was in love with Vanu—what was he supposed to do? He’d been too exhausted that morning, after the long slog up the mountain with Khatu, to be bothered by this; it had been easy to nestle into Vanu’s arms like he belonged there. Now that he’d slept and his mind was working again, he wasn’t sure that he could face Vanu without curling up into a ball the way he had done on the side of the trail above Dukka.

As it turned out, he came home from drinking with the Gukhártu brothers to find that Vanu was still out down the mountain. He felt completely desolate and also weak with relief and angry with himself for the relief and disgusted with himself for the desolation, and he stood on the cupboards between Vanu’s stairs and his own for a quarter of an hour trying to decide which bed to lie down in. Finally he went up his own stairs and changed into his nightshirt and went to bed in his own bed, more or less at random.

Vanu was back when Lill woke late the next morning. He was sitting out on the balcony, and he didn’t immediately notice when Lill opened the door from his room, so that Lill had a moment to stand there observing and unobserved.

It was strange, Lill thought, how Vanu’s resting face looked stern, because his smile was so much truer a reflection of the kind of man he was. Just now, he looked more stern that usual—grave, almost sad. He was sitting up straight, not leaning back against the cushions, and looking out over the yard with a fixity that suggested he wasn’t really seeing it.

Lill rattled the balcony door so as not to reveal that he’d been standing there silently. Vanu looked up, and all the sternness melted from his face as he smiled. He tossed something that he’d been holding—a writing tablet—down onto the table and got up and came to the doorway. With Lill standing on the step, they were at eye level. Vanu took Lill’s face between his hands and kissed him: slow, soft kisses as if Lill was something breakable and precious.

Lill clutched Vanu’s shoulders and struggled against the feeling that he should pull away because he didn’t deserve to be kissed like this.

“Hardly saw you yesterday. Missed you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“No, I mean … I don’t know what I mean.” He meant, Kiss me some more.

Vanu took his hands and drew him out onto the balcony. There was yogurt with honey for breakfast; Vanu had already eaten, but he filled a bowl for Lill. He picked up the writing tablet—it was a lowland-style hinged tablet, not one Lill had seen around the house before—and took it into his room, then came back to sit beside Lill. He tucked a strand of Lill’s hair gently behind Lill’s ear.

“Um … I guess Khatu told you all about how he escaped and I met up with his pursuers outside of Dukka. There was some violence … ”

“He said you killed one of them and injured two others,” Vanu signed.

“They’d drawn their swords,” Lill said hastily. “It was a fight, not … ” Not like the other times he’d killed people.

“I know,” Vanu signed. “It makes a difference, doesn’t it? But it’s still cutting short someone’s life. You see another day and they don’t. There’s a … ” He thought for a moment. “A weight to it. Pulls you down. I’m not good at talking about this kind of thing.”