“This is Aradin’s body, not mine,” he corrected her gently. “I am simply caring for it in his absence. His spirit has gone off to commune with our fellow Witches, and he has left me in charge for the time being. For the sake of alleviating an even worse state of confusion—since our personalities and behaviors are not the same—I have used holy magic to reshape his body into a semblance of what mine used to look like . . . but my own body has long since rotted and returned to the soil. I’d like to think it’s been fertilizing some pretty flowers in the cemetery where it was buried. Pushing up daisies, as it were—I believe that’s an expression they use here in Katan for the bodies of the deceased, yes?”
Biting her lip to quell the urge to laugh, Saleria nodded. Teral continued blithely, urbane and charming even as he ruined Nannan’s grasp on her half-formed fantasies. The housekeeper’s look of crumbling hope and dismay only grew as he spoke.
“This body is Aradin’s. Mine has ceased to be. And I should say that Aradin’s body may not like the vinegar-sauce you used on the greens, but I find the herb stuffing and the basting of the duck absolutely delicious. He’ll be rather sorry he missed tasting this meal, I can tell you that.”
“But . . . You . . . ?” Nannan stared at him, then looked to Saleria for help, her brow furrowed and her mouth turned down at the corners. “He . . . ?”
“Nannan, the ways of worshipping other Gods and Goddesses are perfectly valid, however strange they may be, even if they are rarely encountered outside their homelands,” Saleria told her. “Aradin and Teral are two men sharing Aradin’s body; they are both envoys of their people, and holy priest-mages of fairly high rank. We will treat them as honored guests while they stay with us, and you will treat them with respect. Aradin the Living Hortimancer and Teral the Deceased Guide are staying here to assist me as we finally strive to restore order and peace to the Grove. That task is far more important than any . . . any flirtations that may have been considered.”
Like a lifeline, Nannan seized on that word. Arching her brows, she gave Saleria a disapproving look. “Oh, really? Isn’t that why you wanted to place that younger man in the room next to your own? I do have eyes in my head, and I have seen how flirtatious the two of you have been at the other meals.”
Teral chuckled at that, drawing her attention back to him. “True, but isn’t life itself meant for the living to enjoy, milady, not just endure?” he challenged her. He nodded at Saleria. “Our kind hostess, the Keeper of the Grove and thus one of the holiest beings in your empire, is also a lovely young lady, quite alive, and quite worthy of seeking out all the joys thereof. Given she tends the very place where your Holy Jinga and Kata were wed, I would think she has every right to seek out a romantic union of her own—perhaps even as an imperative, to further her holy calling.”
“That’s true, I do,” Saleria agreed, resting her chin on the back of her hand. Her pose was similar to Nannan’s earlier one, but far more relaxed than flirtatious. She gave Teral a grateful smile, glad he had neatly cut the argumentative legs out from under her housekeeper’s stance. “Not just any gentleman will do for me, of course, but I’ll never know which partner is right for me unless I enter and trod the steps of the courtship dance.”
“But . . . you’re dead,” Nannan asserted, glancing between the two before settling on the dark-haired Darkhanan again. “You can’t have a romance with anyone . . .”
“I could, but only if my Host, Aradin, agreed to it. And only if the lady herself agreed to it . . . and only if Aradin’s choice of romantic companion agreed to it.” Holding up his hand, he forestalled another protest from the plump housekeeper. “Suffice to say, I am not concerned that the odds are so heavily stacked against such a thing from happening. I have had my share of romances while I lived in my own body . . . and I have lived through the romances of my own Guide, back when I was alive and was Host to a fellow Witch-priestess.
“It works when everyone involved agrees . . . but it is now Aradin’s life, and Aradin’s choice, first and foremost. He, I think, would far rather choose Saleria, who is close to his own age and engaged in work similar to his preferences,” he concluded. “Romances work better when the partners are of a similar age.”
“Not to mention, you’ve been rather rude to him all along, so I doubt he’d agree to let you have Teral borrow his body for you to flirt with,” Saleria stated. That earned her a chiding look from the older Witch. Sighing, she refrained from rolling her eyes. “Pardon my bluntness, and forgive me for any offense.”