“Don’t take them,” he whispered.

Mai smiled. “Mistress Bettia, I fear I cannot say yes to such a proposition. I have made a policy not to accept the entanglements of debt. Only free women need apply.”

“Had you advertised that before, and I missed it?” said Bettia with a shake of the head that brought attention to the cunning ornamentation of ivory combs and beaded braids that no doubt took her attendants half the morning to prepare. “Yet I see here Master Feden’s slave, now serving you as factor.” She made a crude show of looking surprised as she addressed the slave who had mouthed Kesh’s name. “Why, Nasia, you came from Feden’s house, did you not?”

The slave mumbled something.

Chief Tuvi made a business of coughing, and Mistress Bettia looked at him. She blinked first, smiled as if she was in pain, collected her slaves, and retreated.

“What was meant by that performance?” Mai asked.

“She hopes to set spies in your midst.” Keshad’s lovely eyes narrowed as he brooded. “She’s known for trading information as well as fans, screens, scrolls, and lamp shades. Eyes and ears placed inside the house of the outlanders would be valuable, indeed.”

Mai considered this with no apparent change of expression, stroking the smooth silk that covered her bulging abdomen. Avisha, who knew her own face shouted every least thought and emotion, envied her that smooth countenance. “Would it not be prudent to accept such a person into the house? Better to know who will be spreading tales than to have one sneak in who we do not know of.”

“There’s truth to that,” said Tuvi. “Let them think we don’t know.”

“Maybe so,” said Keshad. “If we don’t give ourselves away. Also, verea, if you hand out charity in such a public way, you’ll cause everyone to come just to eat out of your hand.”

“I felt sorry for the girl, knowing no one wanted her.”

“They will take advantage of your good nature, verea,” said Keshad passionately.

Chief Tuvi glanced at Kesh, and made a show of clearing his throat. “Are you growing tired, Mistress?”

“No. Let’s go on with the interviews.”

Jerad crept up to the edge of the pavilion and tugged at Avisha’s arm. “Vish? Can I go to the stables?”

The chief signaled a new family group to come forward. Mai smiled at the party of humble farmers—a father and daughters by the look of them. Keshad was pretending to look at his hands but was in fact studying Mai under lowered eyes.

Did Kesh love Mai? And why wouldn’t he? Mai was beautiful, and kind, and well-mannered, and very clever.

“Vish!”

“No!” she whispered, wishing she could tweak one of Jerad’s ears to make him stop bothering her at always the wrong moment. “You’ll just get in the way.”

He rolled his eyes as he tugged at a fold in her taloos. “No, not by myself. Jagi said I could go with him and learn to groom a horse! Please.”