"Friday for the council meeting, and probably Saturday for the harem plan. Sunday at the latest." Losham chuckled. "In the meantime, I will practice my acting skills."
20
SULLHA
Sullha had been waiting for this shift.
The rotations in the kitchen were posted four weeks in advance, and changing a slot required asking Hillah, who was in charge of managing the kitchen rotation, to rearrange the schedule.
Sullha requested that her own shift be moved to Monday to accommodate Tomek's class schedule. Thankfully, Hillah hadn't asked what exactly needed to be accommodated about a schedule that was the same every day of the week and had just done as Sullha had requested.
Tying her apron strings behind her back, Sullha joined the other servers and listened until someone said Vinnah's name to find out who she was.
Naturally, she'd seen the woman before, and she even remembered thinking that she was a little odd. She wasn't old, mid-thirties to early forties, but her hair was already graying. Some people were just unlucky that way. But her face was smooth and wrinkle-free, so she was lucky in another way.
She was humming softly, and Sullha almost missed it. It was a tune she hadn't heard before, which could be a good conversation starter. She could ask her what song she was humming. It wasn't happy or sad, just kind of pleasant.
Sullha picked up two trays.
"Hello, Vinnah."
Vinnah looked up, her face registering surprise at being addressed by name by someone she vaguely knew.
"Hello," she said hesitantly.
"I'm Sullha. We shared a laundry shift a few months back."
That was a safe bet because everyone did laundry shifts at least once a week. It might even have been true that she'd met the woman during one of those, but she didn't remember it, and neither did Vinnah.
"That's right. Good memory."
"I never forget a face." Sullha balanced two trays and lifted them with the ease of long practice.
They walked together toward the dining tables.
Two dozen women were already seated, and Sullha caught fragments of conversations. A new shipment of fabric had arrived. Someone's daughter had begun her first cycle. Someone's son was approaching thirteen, and she was shedding tears, but not because she was sad he would be taken away. She was happy because her sacred task of producing warriors for Mortdh's army was being fulfilled.
She was proud, and she was also excited about the extra allowance mothers of departing sons were allotted.
Sullha didn't look at her face.
She set down her trays and began distributing bowls. Stew over rice, a piece of flatbread, and an egg. Hearty meals that she'd eaten more times than she could count.
Vinnah was setting down bowls at the next table, smiling and humming as if she didn't have a care in the world.
Sullha had a sinking feeling that Vinnah was one of those who rejoiced at having fulfilled her sacred duty.
Come to think of it, the humming should have clued her in. Then again, it could mean nothing. There were a great many ways to survive in the enclosure, and humming was not, by itself, evidence of anything.
But she also knew that the humming was probably exactly what she feared it was.
When she returned to the tray station, Vinnah was already there.
"How is your day going?" Sullha asked.
"Blessed." Vinnah smiled.
The word reinforced and amplified Sullha's assumption.
