The other woman kissed her on the cheek as a cousin might. “If you aren’t sure, don’t go. The mistress would never turn us out.”

“I’m eighteen.” She patted her hair again to make sure nothing had slipped out of place. “What use is there to remain an unmarried girl? You’re already a married woman, with two children of your own.”

“A widow, without kinfolk. Still, now that I’ve work, I’m in no hurry to marry again. I’m not sure I fancy any of the outlanders. There’s a laborer come out of the village that was neighbor to mine before they got burned down. But he’ll have to buy himself out of his debt before I’m likely to look in that direction!” She laughed, pleased at her independence, a capable woman who knew where her next meal was coming from.

“I’m going down,” said Avisha in a rush.

“Eihi! As pretty as you are, and beloved by the mistress, I am sure you won’t be sitting there long, not like that one poor woman last week. Here.” She scooped rice into a humble bowl and handed it to her.

The simple gesture brought tears. Avisha thanked her tremulously, and walked away before she could lose her courage. She knew what her father would want her to do, what her mother would counsel. Even Nallo would tell her that being married was better than living on the sufferance of others, no matter how well they treated you.

The settlement did not yet have a council house, but brick benches had been placed to form a large square and canvas raised on rope to offer shade. In her village, the council house benches had been carved from wood, enclosed by a courtyard ringed with trellises heavy with falling-water and murmuring heart and decorated with festival cords braided by her father. Her village hadn’t the coin to build a roofed council hall, but the courtyard was a particularly pretty one, especially when the vines were in bloom. Travelers said so. Once a poet had come just to sit there for three days and contemplate its beauty while the villagers fed him, but he hadn’t composed any chants so afterward her father said, in private, that perhaps the man had been a fraud. Although why in that case he hadn’t just come around as a beggar, Avisha could not imagine. The temples gave alms without question. She felt herself a beggar, living off another’s handouts for one too many days.

Every day, now, you were likely to see one or two women sitting on the benches. Today two young women had already each taken a place, seated far enough apart that, if a suitor did arrive, there could be no confusion about who he meant to offer for. Because the council benches were sited at the upward edge of the growing settlement, only a few people passed on their way to and from their labors at the captain’s hall above. But folk did come just to stare.