“Daav said that you were interested in reading my distillation of Professor yo'Kera's theory of the common root-tongue. Please, accept this as a gift.”
Aelliana received the book, and bowed. “My thanks to you for your kindness.”
“Please, think nothing of it,” Anne Davis told her. “If you are at liberty, we might go up to Solcintra now.”
“I lack any students as enthusiastic as yours,” Aelliana assured her, “and so am perfectly at liberty. I wonder . . . I wonder if I might ask a boon.”
Anne Davis tipped her head to one side. “Certainly.”
“I have . . . very small Terran,” Aelliana told her, in that tongue. “It would oblige me, if we might speak so.” She paused and said, more rapidly in Liaden. “It is for selfish purposes alone; I would very much like to improve my command. If it will be tiresome for you—already burdened with six eager students—then I thank you for your consideration of my request.”
“Has Clonak been teaching you Aus dialect?” Anne asked her, in the brisk modelessness of Terran.
Aelliana blinked up at her. “Trying, he has,” she admitted. “An apt pupil, I am not.”
“I think you're very apt, indeed. And I will be perfectly happy to let you sharpen your Terran against me. After all, I practiced my Liaden against Er Thom and Daav. Still do,” she added thoughtfully.
She moved toward the hall, and Aelliana perforce went with her, finding to her dismay as they approached the house's entrance hall that she was still carrying the lady's book.
A shadow moved to the the right of the door: Mr. pel'Kana, coming to unlock for them.
“Lady. Pilot. A pleasant day to you both.”
“Thank you, Mr. pel'Kana,” said Anne Davis, sweeping out the door with a stride even longer than Daav's.
Aelliana paused, and pressed the book into the old man's hands.
“Please,” she said, “if it is not too much trouble—would you put this on the stair? I'll carry it up with me when I return.”
“I'll take care of it, Pilot,” he said solemnly. “Never fear.”
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Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon
Chapter Twelve
If honor be your clothing, the suit will last a lifetime.
—William Arnot
“Here we are,” Anne Davis said, pausing on the walk before a crystal-laced gate.
Beyond the gate was a tapestry of tiny flowers, shy among glossy green leaves and interwoven with pinpoint lights. At the garden's foot was a door and a large window, half-hidden by an artful rain of crystal and leaf. To Aelliana's eye it looked—expensive. In fact, the whole street looked expensive, hardly a shopping district at all, and certainly not a street where a daughter of Mizel ought to be looking for a few shirts and some serviceable pants. Why, even Voni's most expensive marriage-clothes had been bought ready-made, and adjusted by the in-shop tailor!
“I—your pardon,” she said to her guide, distress plunging her into Liaden, when they had been happily conversing this last hour in Terran.
Anne looked down at her. It seemed to Aelliana, feeling her cheeks warm, that her companion was—amused. Doubtless, she came here often; this shop one of her favorites. It would be instinct, would it not, to bring a new acquaintance in need of clothes to one's favorite shop? And it would be an impertinence to call the judgment of one's host into question. Yet, how much more distressing to find that the guest could not meet her debts?
“I feel,” she said slowly, “that I cannot afford anything that might be on offer here. My needs are modest. Quite modest,” she added, firmly.
Her companion nodded easily.
“I understand perfectly,” she said in Terran. “The first time I was here, I thought I'd melt into a puddle, I was so embarrassed. There I stood, great, hulking gel that I am, wearing not much more than my socks, and not a cash card to hide behind. I couldn't remember when I'd been so unnerved—and all for nothing! By the finish of it, I was almost enjoying myself.”
“Yes, but—” Aelliana ran her thumb across the tips of her fingers; the hand-talk sign for cash.
“No, now, lassie, you mustn't worry about money.” Anne put a gentle hand on Aelliana's shoulder. “You've plenty for this. The delm's orders to me were to find you a 'suitable' wardrobe, since you'd come away without. We can outfit you here with everything you need. They'll measure you, take note of your wants, put it all together and send it! In the end, it's much less tiring than going through half-a-dozen shops, looking for something ready-made that will do. Now.” She tipped her head toward the expensive door. “If you find you don't like the place, after we've gone in, just give me a wink and we'll go elsewhere. Is that fair?”
It did seem a reasonable compromise between her own misgivings and the task given Anne by her delm.
Anne's delm.
Aelliana looked up into the other's face. “Daav doesn't pay for this, does he?” she demanded, shocked at how rudely the question fell on the ear. How did Terrans manage without mode to clarify intent?
