The Inheritance Trilogy Omnibus(457)
Fahno looked, and her expression grew pained. “Yes… yes. Arolu, ah, please take Eino back to his rooms—” Arolu nodded and moved toward Eino.
“No,” said Eino. He was still staring at the floor; the bundle that Lumyn had given him was still in his hand. “You’re right, Beba; this is about my future. Shouldn’t I hear this?” All of a sudden he looked up, and Fahno flinched at his glare. “Since I’m not permitted to choose my fate, I should at least face it with open eyes. Is that not the way of the Darre?”
Fahno’s jaw muscles flexed, and then she focused on me again. “This is about you, Lady Shill—though I will allow that it’s not just about you. I had invited Mikna-enulai here to meet you, because I felt she would be an appropriate match for you.”
Mikna inclined her head. “And it is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Shill.”
“I don’t like you,” I said. She raised her eyebrows. Then to Lumyn I said, “And I don’t like you, either. You both made Eino get sad. You shouldn’t have made him sad!”
Lumyn took a deep breath. “Lady Shill, I see that you consider Eino a friend. It troubles you that he’s unhappy right now, and I feel the same way. My gift, believe it or not, was meant to cheer him.” She glanced at Eino. “I’m sorry that it didn’t.”
“That’s not your doing,” Eino said softly. His voice was thicker than usual, and rough. Arolu sort of tsked and came over, taking Eino’s shoulder.
“Enough,” Arolu said to the women. “Please.” At this, they all sort of shifted or looked away, and then Fahno sighed.
“There’s still the matter of Lady Shill’s disposition,” she said, which I guess was a way of changing the subject. She folded her arms. “I… appreciate that you felt it appropriate to come here, Lumyn-enulai, but I remain convinced that Mikna-enulai is the better choice.”
Lumyn sort of smirked. “Lady Shill has made it clear she dislikes both of the options she’s been presented.”
“That’s right,” I said. I was annoyed! They kept talking about me like I wasn’t there! “I don’t want either of you!”
Fahno scowled. “You must have an enulai, Lady Shill, or leave this world per the Compact between your kind and mortalkind. Have you decided to leave?”
“I’m not leaving!” Now I was scared she would make me go, or call Ia, who would make me go. That made me madder still. “I just don’t like any of this! I don’t want somebody who’s going to talk about me like I’m not here, or say things about one person when they really mean it about another person, or, or—” I couldn’t articulate it. I was shaking, I was so mad—but at the same time, I felt weird. Sort of ugly inside, shaking, too, wibbly and kind of gross. I wanted to cry, and I didn’t know why. “I want Eino!”
Fahno inhaled; Mikna threw a sharp look at him, then back at me. Lumyn frowned. “Eino?”
“Eino!” I yelled it, and everybody jumped, because I had slipped and my voice had gotten too loud again—not loud enough to damage anything, but enough that the windows rattled and a vase shivered on the side of the room. I bit my lip and pushed my voice down to soft again. “Sorry. But I don’t understand why he can’t be my enulai. Everybody says it’s because he’s a boy, but he’s not a boy, he’s a demon, and he’s full of magic, and I know he’d be a really good enulai for me because I actually like him! Why not him?”
Fahno was staring at me, and then she looked at Eino. That was when I realized I’d done a bad thing, because I’d promised Eino I wouldn’t tell about him going out to dance and stuff. And I hadn’t—but now Fahno knew that we’d met before, somehow, and my words were maybe getting Eino in trouble. I bit my lip, but it was too late.
But then Eino spoke behind me, and his voice was so harsh and bitter that it made me feel even more bad inside, because suddenly I knew I had done the same thing as the other women. I had been selfish, and used him without even doing anything good for him, just like Arolu feared.
“You can’t have me, Shill,” he said. He sounded both sad and angry, but I looked at him without eyes and saw that he was smiling. I didn’t understand it. “It’s like I told you: an enulai is a person trained in an art demanding great skill. I cannot be a person; I am chattel, instead. I am nothing.” He turned to go.
“You’re not nothing,” I said, stricken. He was so hurt. I had helped hurt him, and it was terrible! I ran forward a few steps, holding up a hand after him, but he didn’t see me as Arolu sighed and guided him away.