'I don't want all the things a real woman would want. You made me realize that. I don't dream of babies and a pretty house. I don't want a settled home, and a growing family. I'm not even sure I want a husband. Today Malta accused me of being odd. It stung worse than anything else she flung at me. Because it's true. I suppose I am. I don't want any of the things a woman is supposed to want.' She rubbed her temples. 'I should want Grag. I mean… I do want Grag. I like him. I enjoy his company.' She stared at the front door as she added more honestly, 'When he touches my hand, it warms me. But when I consider marrying him and all that would go with it…' She shook her head. 'It's not what I want. It would cost too much. Even though it would, perhaps, be wise.'
Amber said nothing. She was setting out bits of metal and wooden spacers. She measured off several lengths of gleaming silken thread, and then began to knot them together into a woven rope. 'You don't love him,' Amber suggested.
'I could. I don't allow myself to love him. It's like wanting something you can't possibly afford to buy. There is no reason not to love him, save that there is so much… attached to him. His family. His inheritance. His ship, his position in the community.' Althea sighed again, and looked miserable. 'The man himself is wonderful. But I can't bring myself to give up everything I'd have to surrender to love him.'
'Ah,' Amber said. She fitted a bead to the woven strand and knotted it in place.
Althea traced an old carving on the chair's arm. 'He has expectations. They don't include me captaining my own liveship. He'd want me to settle down and manage things for him. I'd make a home for him to come back to, and raise our children and keep our household in order.' Her brows knit over her dark eyes. 'I'd do everything that needed to be done so that he could sail off without any worries save the ship.' Bitterness came into her voice. 'I'd do all the things that made it possible for him to live the life he wanted.' She spoke the next words sadly. 'If I decide to love Grag, to marry him, it would cost me everything else I've ever wanted to do with my life. I'd have to lay it all down for the sake of loving him.'
'And that's not what you want to do with your life?' Amber asked.
A sour smile twisted Althea's mouth. 'No. I don't want to be the wind in his sails. That's what I want someone else to do for me.' She sat up straight suddenly. 'That is… that didn't come out right. I'm not explaining this very well.'
Amber looked up from her work to grin at her. 'On the contrary, I think you are uncomfortable only because you have stated it so plainly. You want a mate who will follow your dream. You don't want to give up your own ambitions to make someone else's life possible.'
'I suppose that's true,' Althea admitted reluctantly. An instant later she demanded, 'Why is that so wrong?'
'It isn't,' Amber assured her. A moment later she added wickedly, 'As long as you're male.'
Althea leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms stubbornly. 'I can't help it. That's what I want.' When Amber said nothing, Althea asked, almost angrily, 'Don't try to tell me that that is what love is, giving it all up for someone else!'
'But for some people, it is,' Amber pointed out inexorably. She bound another bead into the necklace, then held it up to look at it critically. 'Others are like two horses in harness, pulling together toward a goal.'
'I suppose that wouldn't be so bad,' Althea conceded. Her knit brows said she did not entirely believe it. 'Why can't people love one another and still remain free?' she demanded suddenly.
Amber paused to rub her eyes, then tug thoughtfully at her earring. 'One can love that way,' she conceded regretfully. 'But the price on that kind of love may be the highest of all.' She strung her words together as carefully as she strung her beads. 'To love another person like that, you have to admit that his life is as important as yours. Harder still, you have to admit to yourself that perhaps he has needs you cannot fill, and that you have tasks that will take you far away from him. It costs loneliness and longing and doubt and-'
'Why must love cost anything? Why does need have to be mixed up with love? Why can't people be like butterflies, coming together in bright sunshine and parting while the day is still bright?'
'Because they are people, not butterflies. To pretend that people can come together, love and then part with no pain or consequences is more false a role than pretending to be a proper Trader's daughter.' She set her beads down and met Althea's gaze. She spoke bluntly. 'Don't, please, convince yourself that you can bed Grag Tenira and walk away from it without diminishing both of you. A moment ago you spoke of love without need. To sate your need without love is theft. If you must have that, hire it done. But don't steal that from Grag under the pretense that it is free. I know Grag Tenira now. He cannot give you that, not that way.'
Althea crossed her arms on her chest. 'I wasn't thinking of doing that.'
'Yes, you were,' Amber asserted, her eyes back on her beads. 'We all think about doing that. That doesn't make it right.' She turned her work and began a new pattern of knots. In the silence she added, 'When you bed someone, there is always a commitment. Sometimes that commitment is only that you will both pretend it doesn't matter.' Her strangely colored eyes held Althea's for a moment. 'Sometimes that commitment is made only to yourself. The other party never knows it or agrees to it.'
Brashen. Althea shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Why did he always come to mind at such inopportune moments? Whenever she thought she had weeded him from her memory, the leaves of that interlude unfurled again. It made her angry all over again, but she was no longer sure it was Brashen she was angry with. She pushed such thoughts away. It was over and done with, a part of her life she was finished with. She could put it behind her. She could cover it up with other things.
'Love isn't just about feeling sure of the other person, knowing what he would give up for you. It's knowing with certainty what you are willing to surrender for his sake. Make no mistake; each partner gives up something. Individual dreams are surrendered for a shared one. In some marriages, one partner gives up almost everything she once thought she wanted. But it's not always the woman who does so. Such sacrifice is not shameful. It's love. If you think the man is worth it, it works.'
She sat still for a time, pondering. Then Althea leaned forward suddenly, to ask Amber, 'Do you think that if I married Grag, I'd change my mind?'
'Well. Someone would certainly have to,' Amber replied philosophically.
BRASHEN VENTURED A PEEK DOWN THE HALLWAY AGAIN. WHERE WAS THE girl? Was she going to leave him standing here until the runner returned with her mother? Waiting was always hard for him. He grinned to himself, the prospect of seeing Althea lightening his heart despite the gravity of the tidings he bore. He wished he had just the tiniest end of a cindin stick to sustain him, but he had resolutely left them behind on the Springeve. He knew Althea disapproved of his small vice. He didn't want her to think he was the sort of man who had to carry it with him always. She already considered it enough of a fault. Well, he already knew all Althea's faults. Proximity had forced him to tolerate them for years. They didn't matter. He had come to care for her, and it was more than a single night of bedding together. That night had only made him admit what he already felt. For years, he'd seen her nearly every day. They'd shared a drink or a meal in many ports, gamed together, mended sail together. She didn't treat him like the disgraced son of a Bingtown Trader. She treated him like a valuable ship's officer, respected him for his knowledge and his ability to command men. She was a woman, but he could talk to her, beyond complimenting her gown or comparing her eyes to stars. How rare was that?
He wandered back to a window, looked out down the drive. A light footfall behind him turned him around. It was Malta again. A bit spoiled, if Althea's tales of her were true. Her eyes met his, and she smiled gravely. Her demeanor had changed yet again. 'I've sent off a runner, as you suggested. If you'd like to follow me, I can offer you a cup of coffee and some morning cake.' Her genteelly modulated voice was that of a well-bred young lady welcoming him to her home.
It recalled him to his own manners. 'Thank you. That would be most welcome.'
She gestured to the hallway, and surprised him by taking his arm. She scarcely came to the top of his shoulder. He noticed her scent now, some floral oil, violets perhaps. It wafted up from her hair. She glanced up at him once through her eyelashes as he accompanied her down the hall. The look made him reevaluate his first impression of her. Sa's breath, how fast children grew up. Hadn't she been a playmate of little Delo? The last time he had seen his little sister, she had been in disgrace for muddying her pinafore. He hadn't even set eyes on her in years. A peculiar sense of loss assailed him. He had lost more than just home and fortune when his father had disowned him.
She led him into the morning room. Coffee service and a plate of morning bread had already been set out on a small table flanked by two comfortable chairs. The opened window presented a garden vista. 'I hope you'll be
