Shadow and Betrayal

this.
    ‘What’s the matter, love?’ she said softly.
    And the care vanished as if it had never been. Itani smiled, rose, took her in his arms. He smelled good - of clean sweat and young man and some subtle musk that was his alone.
    ‘Something’s bothering you,’ she said.
    ‘No. I’m fine. It’s just Muhatia-cha breaking my stones again. It’s nothing. Do you have time to go to a bathhouse with us?’
    ‘Yes,’ she said. It wasn’t the answer she’d intended to give, but it was the one she meant now. Her papers for Wilsin-cha could wait.
    ‘Good,’ he said, and the way he smiled convinced her. But there was still something - a reservation in his hands, a distance in his eyes. ‘Your work’s going well, then?’
    ‘Well enough. The negotiations are all in place, I think. But the girl frustrates me. It makes me short with her, and I know I shouldn’t be.’
    ‘Does she accept your apologies?’
    ‘I haven’t really offered them. I want to now, when I’m away from her. But in the moment, I’m always too annoyed with her.’
    ‘Well. You could start the day with them. Have it out of the way before you begin.’
    ‘Itani, is there something you want me to apologize to you for?’
    He smiled his perfect, charming smile, but somehow it didn’t reach the depths of his eyes.
    ‘No,’ he said. ‘Of course not.’
    ‘Because it seems like we made our peace, but . . . but you haven’t seemed the same since I went before the Khai.’
    She pulled back from him and sat on his cot. He hesitated and then sat beside her, the canvas creaking under their combined weight. She took a pose of apology, her expression gentle, making it more an offer and a question than a literal form itself.
    ‘It’s not like that,’ Itani said. ‘I’m not angry. It’s hard to explain.’
    ‘Then try. I might know you better than you think.’
    He laughed, a small rueful sound, but didn’t forbid it. Liat steeled herself.
    ‘It’s our old conversation, isn’t it?’ she said, gently. ‘I’ve started moving up in the house. I’m negotiating with the Khai, with the poets. And your indenture is coming to a close before long. I think you’re afraid I’ll outgrow you. That an overseer - even one low in the ranks - is above the dignity of a laborer.’
    Itani was silent. His expression was thoughtful, and his gaze seemed wholly upon her for the first time in days. A smile quirked his lips and vanished.
    ‘Am I right?’ she asked.
    ‘No,’ he said. ‘But I’m curious all the same. Is that what you believe? That I would be beneath your dignity?’
    ‘I don’t,’ she said. ‘But I also don’t think you’ll end your life a laborer. You’re a strange man. You’re strong and clever and charming. And I think you know half again what you let on. But I don’t understand your choices. You could be so much, if you wanted to. Isn’t there anything you want?’
    He said nothing. The smile was gone, and the haunted look had stolen back into his eyes. She caressed his cheek, feeling where the stubble was coming in.
    ‘Do you want to go to the bathhouse?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We should be going. The others will be there already.’
    ‘You’re sure there isn’t something more I should know?’
    He opened his mouth to speak, and it was as if she could see some glib rejoinder die on his lips. His wide, strong hand enfolded hers.
    ‘Not now,’ he said.
    ‘But eventually,’ she said.
    Something like dread seemed to take Itani’s long face, but he managed a smile.
    ‘Yes,’ he said.
    Through the evening, Itani grew more at ease. They laughed with his friends, drank and sang together. The pack of them moved from bathhouse to teahouse to the empty beaches at the far end of the seafront. Great swaths of silt showed where the rivermouth had once been, generations ago. When the time came, Itani walked her back to the Wilsin compound, the comfortable weight of his arm around her shoulders. Crickets chirped in chorus as they stepped together into the courtyard with its fountain and the Galtic Tree.
    ‘You could stay,’ she said, softly.
    He turned, pulling her body near to his. She looked up into his eyes. Her answer was there.
    ‘Another time, then?’ she asked, embarrassed to hear the plea in her voice.
    He leaned close, his lips firm and soft against hers. She ran her fingers through his hair, holding him to her like a cup from which she was drinking. She ached for him to stay, to be with her,