Fire with Fire(161)

“How so?”

“They wanted only Old Family scions on this delegation, but none were willing to work as your Advocate.”

Elena’s smile was slow. “Why? Because when a Hkh’Rkh represents the Unhonored, he begins to be associated with them? Our status as lesser beings rubs off on you?”

Yaargraukh nodded. “It is as you say.”

“That is also how a human woman feels when she is treated as though she does not exist—as simply being a ‘female.’”

Caine held his breath. Yaargraukh looked at Elena, who kept smiling at him without the slightest hint of impatience or displeasure. She had managed to offer a correction without also making it a remonstration. “That is exactly how it feels for us,” she emphasized.

“Yet—you served me.”

“Among you, to be served has a particular meaning, and I was happy to make you comfortable. Among humans—” and she turned toward Caine, with a forkful of carpaccio heading quickly towards his mouth—“it means something else.” Caine had just enough time to get his lips and teeth out of the way. But the fork didn’t jab in; the wafer-thin shaving of raw meat seemed to land on his tongue like a butterfly. He opened his eyes, found hers less than a foot away. The fork left his mouth slowly; her eyes stayed on his.

“So what does it mean among you, for one to serve another?” Yaargraukh sounded puzzled. “I do not understand; how is that not serving him? He who has met challenges and acquired honor?”

Caine knew, looking at Elena’s earnest face, and Yaargraukh’s stance—of patient futility?—that a careful delineation of nuances was not going to make the point. He reached over, took the plate gently but firmly out of Elena’s hand. Caine made a quick pass with the fork, and then he was tapping her upper lip with a sliver of proffered asiago. Eyes surprised, she opened her lips: as had she, he inserted the utensil carefully, let the slight friction against her tongue drag the cheese off the tines.

Yaargraukh reared back. “Caine, this is—I do not understand.”

“Your eyes told you no lies: I served her.”

His head seemed to quiver. “So you are showing me that, if you choose, you can be less than she is?”

“No.”

“Then why serve her?”

“To show you that I am no less than she is, but I am also not more. Human women have no less honor than males.”

Yaargraukh’s spine fur rose slightly. “This is what I find most alien in your race. As your Advocate, I worry how the Hkh’Rkh—particularly the Old Families—will assess you, were I to push them to believe this.”

Caine smiled. “Yaargraukh, you are our Advocate. We leave it for you to decide what to tell them; we trust your judgment. But we needed to tell you this.”

“Why?”

“Because sharing truths—particularly the dangerous ones—is how we will build a bridge of honor between us, and perhaps, a pathway of understanding between our peoples.”

Yaargraukh’s eyes disappeared for a moment, then bulged forth again. “Yes. This shall be how we make the bridge between us. We shall build it not merely by finding our easy similarities, but also by sharing—and accepting—our difficult differences. And I foresee that this could be a costly promise—for both of us.”

Elena lowered her head slightly. “‘Promises, like honor, are not washed away, but strengthened, by blood.’”

He stared at her. “You have already read the poet-sages.”

Her nod was almost a shrug. “I encountered a few of their writings when reading your self-reference.”

Yaargraukh slowly took his eyes from Elena, looked at Caine and nodded. “Caine, you are lucky in your mate.”

A split second of incomprehension was followed by a rush of heat in his face. “No—no, she’s not my mate.” Caine resolved to avoid looking at her, to remain unaware of her reaction.

Yaargraukh looked surprised. “No?”

“No.”

Yaargraukh’s tongue darted out, wiggled.

“What causes you to—smile?”

“Your answer. I saw her feed you, and you she: this was not merely honoring each other.”

“I assure you: she is not my mate.”

Yaargraukh’s tongue swished once. “Not yet, perhaps. I must go; I will share much of our conversation with my delegation. They will be—interested—I am sure. I believe they will also agree to reciprocate this feast, perhaps as early as tomorrow.”

Caine bowed. “They would do us much honor.”

“They would not mean to, not precisely. But it would be a start.” He turned to look for Elena; she was gone. “My words: did they—? Caine: I meant no insult to your fema—to the woman.”