All at once, she felt sorry for the other girl. No one rich enough to wear silks of such quality would also wield a broom. She knew the tales as well as anyone. A rich merchant house could afford foreign slaves, and of course a life slave had no rights at all. Nothing about them belonged to themselves, not like a debt slave, who might hope to pay off the debt and walk free of all claim. No wonder the poor girl had been crying. “You’re from the south, aren’t you?”

The girl had been scrutinizing the rice-grain-flower, brushing at her hair where an ornamental flower might adorn her, but she turned back to Avisha. “I am, that’s true.”

“You have a funny way of pronouncing things.” The idiotic words sounded worse now that they hung in the air, awaiting an answer, so Avisha stumbled on. “I’m sorry for your trouble. I saw you were crying. We didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s just the boy had to pee so badly and didn’t want to wet himself.”

“Vish!” hissed Jerad indignantly.

“No, I’m glad you came.” The girl patted the bench. “Sit beside me. I am glad of a girl my own age to talk to.” As Avisha approached, the girl indicated a shady spot in one corner of the paved square.

“Ooof!” Jerad stopped short with a squeal of outrage followed by a childish giggle. “Did you see what she did?”

“What did I do?” asked the girl, alarmed.

Avisha wanted to slap the runt, but he didn’t know any better. “Nothing, verea. It’s just rude to point with your finger like that.”

“Ah.” The girl stared at her for a moment with her mouth open in a smile that wasn’t quite sincere and wasn’t quite false; anxious, maybe, or embarrassed. She had all of her teeth, and they were as white as the landlady’s string of precious pearls, so perfect that Avisha felt a stab of ugly jealousy for the careless beauty she would herself never ever possess. Then the smile faded, and the girl rose, with dignity, revealing a shawl that she had draped over the bench and on which she had been sitting. This she spread in the shade. “The little one can rest here.”

“My thanks!”

It was such a relief to have Zi’s weight off her arms and back that Avisha almost wept, but instead she sank down on the bench beside the outlander and rested her head wearily in her hands. Still suspicious, Jerad sat down cross-legged beside Zi. His head drooped, his eyes closed, and he dozed off.

“Why do you want to marry one of the outlanders?” the girl asked. “Most Hundred folk don’t seem eager.”

“There’s a good group waiting out there today.”

“Good, or numerous?”

Avisha laughed. “There are a lot of them. There were two women there, dressed as fine as ever I did see, in city fashion, nothing like we’d ever see in my village. All they could talk about was how much coin they mean to demand in exchange for marrying. I didn’t think that was nice. But there was a nice father, telling his daughters they’d best be polite, and that they could look things over and make their own choice if they wished to wed an outlander. That was kind of him, for usually the clan gives you no choice. You know how it is.”