“They will always be kind toyou,Your Grace,” Mionet replied pointedly.
“Oh,” Ophele said again.
“Have you noted any currents in particular?” Justenin asked.
“Nothing of great concern, I think,” Mionet answered. “I was going to suggest that you invite women from Isigne and Selgin to the next gathering. It is not to be wondered that they have not come yet, when they are still recovering. And you see, it is not always a matter of unpleasant scheming,” she consoled, noting Ophele’s unhappy expression. “The women from Meinhem and Tresingale have been here longer, and are healthy, so of course they know each other and will invite each other along. It falls to you to ensure that these natural cliques do not become set in stone.”
That did not sound so bad.
“Though I believe you may have trouble with the Benkki Desans, Sir Justenin,” Mionet added.
“Why do you say so?” Justenin looked up from his papers.
“Bilaki is not greatly welcome,” replied Mionet, as Ophele cast her memory over every single gathering, wondering how Mionet could know this. And the curious thing was, while Ophele could remember speaking to Bilaki at the first meeting…had she even attended the third?
“Shewasthere, wasn’t she?” Ophele asked aloud, almost to herself. “Last time. I’m certain I saw her…”
“She was there, my lady,” Mionet confirmed, and Ophele flushed angrily.
“Would they—somehow did they not let her speak, or make her feel uncomfortable or unwelcome?” she asked, angry with herself that she hadn’t noticed. She knew just how that felt and never wanted anyone else to experience it. And in her ownhouse! “And—you said they don’t likeanyof the Benkki Desans? Why?”
“They have not confided it to me directly, my lady,” replied Mionet. “You know that Madam Sanai speaks often of Niravi, and the building of serenity. That is the Benkki Desan belief, but in the public bath, it is not always received well. There are some women who have come once and not returned.”
And Ophele would not know this. She always had her baths alone.
“But it is not only that. It is also a question of manners, of dress,” Mionet waved a hand. “Women will disagree over such things. The Benkki Desans carry staffs to defend themselves, they are unmarried…”
“And they have come to Tresingale to show their strange ways,” Justenin agreed, and Ophele looked between them, honestly shocked. She had grown up with Lisabe’s hand-me-downs; it never occurred to her to look askance at anyone else’s clothing. And why would it matter if they were not married, or knew how to fight with staffs? Wasn’t there a good reason for it? Was it somehow blasphemous to the stars to contemplate the serenity of Niravi?
“I don’t understand,” she said, grappling with the irrational problem. “Madam Sanai and her ladies haven’t hurt anyone, why…”
“You remember the book I lent you?” Justenin asked.“The People as a Beast.”
“Yes.” She frowned. It had been a terribly cynical book. “About how one group of people reacts to another group of people, and how the collective can become a sort of animal in itself…”
“Tresingale has grown large enough to have groups,” he said, nodding. “Now they are deciding what behavior isacceptable, and what culture will prevail. You may not like what they decide, if you do not take a hand.”
“Well, the Benkki Desans are acceptable,” she said, with a flash of her own rare temper. “How could anyone think otherwise? We invited them here.”
“How would you enforce that?” asked Justenin.
“I—I would, next time, have Bilaki sit with me,” she said defiantly. “Then they can’t exclude her.”
His gaze flicked to Mionet, a silent question.
“They may feel chastised if you are too pointed, my lady,” she warned. “In your place, I would invite Madam Sanai to the next gathering, with the excuse that her recovery has prevented her attendance until now. Bilaki is young and her command of the language is still poor. Madam Sanai is more confident.”
“I will. And I will…I suppose I shall have to bathe with everyone, from now on.” Ophele rubbed her head. The prospect was not pleasant. She still could not bring herself to let Peri and Emi bathe her, and the bare thought of so many eyes on her scrawny body made her cringe inside.
Little mouse.
She should have noticed all this. Wasn’t that the whole point of everything Justenin was teaching her? To observe, and analyze? And yet at the same time she wished Justenin and Mionet had never said a thing about it.
“You must tell me if you notice such a thing from now on,” she told Mionet, adding a generous dollop of Genon’s pain medicine to her tea. “I want everyone to feel welcome when they come here. And that’s what His Grace wants, too.”
“I will do my best, my lady,” Mionet promised. But as Ophele poured a cup for Justenin, she saw the knowing flash in his pale blue eyes, as clear as if he had spoken the words aloud.
Mionet also might choose what she noticed, and what she reported. And what she did not.
