“In the city, the gilt girls are mostly runaways, girls who elected not to stay and marry the husband of their father’s choice, but who have no other skills through which to make a living. And some of them are the daughters of runaway wives, who choose this way to augment the family income. They don’t consider it especially demeaning, because in Geldricht, being a prostitute is a reputable occupation.”

Nolan snorted. Kit continued, “It’s true. It’s part of the system I told you about. Everyone has his or her place. A tikitira is usually a girl who has lost her parents and siblings and is taken under the protection of a clan leader. She has no connections, so he can’t profitably marry her off, but he will provide her with a home and clothes and the basic necessities of life. In return she provides a—a service to the men of his clan.

“You see, marriageable women are very, very strictly guarded. I won’t say none of them ever manage to have sex before they’re married, but it’s pretty rare. If they’re discovered to have lost their virginity, they lose all hope of making a marriage, and they’re generally summarily evicted. Occasionally killed, though that’s rarer these days, though their lives once they’re out of the clan home can be pretty grim. So young women must be virgins, yet gulden men are encouraged to have experience before they wed. Obviously, that equation won’t work unless somewhere in the formula there are some willing women. Thus, the tikitiras. They’ll never marry or have much status, but they do have their place, and they’re treated well. It’s not a bad life, all in all.”

“If they’re just for providing—services—to clan members, why did that one approach me?”

Kit grinned. “They’re allowed to earn a little extra money on the side if they so choose. Indeed, tikitiras often have the nicest jewels and the most expensive clothes because they’re able to splurge more than the other women in the clan. Every once in a while, it makes for a little hostility, as you might imagine.”

“I don’t think this is something I would ever, on my own, imagine.”

“You have prostitutes among the indigo.”

“Yes, but they’re not something we’re proud of! They’re not something we’ve—we’ve set up as an institution so that other women can keep their place!”

Kit shrugged. “Oh, in a way they are. In Inrhio, only low-caste girls are prostitutes. They’re the ones with no prospects, no hope of marrying for money, so they use their bodies like any other attribute to earn cash and get ahead.