“Honorable women would marry you. Sufaki have no fear of humans as Indras do. Perhaps even a daughter of some merchant would marry you. I am only chan, and before that I was nothing at all.”
“If I was to ask,” he said, “would you refuse?”
“No. I would not refuse.” Her small face took on a look of pained bewilderment. “Kurt-ifhan, surely you will think better of this in the morning.”
“I am going to talk to Hef,” he said. “Go inside, Mim. And give me back my cloak. It would not do for you to Wear it inside.”
“My lord, think a day before you do this.”
“I will give it tomorrow,” he said, “for thinking it over. And you do the same. And if you have not come to me by tomorrow evening and asked me and said clearly that you do not want me, then I will talk to Hef.”
It was, he had time to think that night and the next morning, hardly reasonable. He wanted Mim. He had had no knowledge of her to say that he loved her, or that she loved him.
He wanted her. She had set her terms and there was no living under the same roof with Mim without wanting her.
He could apply reason to the matter, until he looked into her face at breakfast as she poured the tea, or as she passed him in the hall and looked at him with a dreadful anxiety.
Have you thought better of it? the look seemed to say. Was it, after all, only for the night?
Then the feeling was back with him, the surety that,
should he lose Mim by saying nothing, he would lose something irreplaceable.
In the end, he found himself that evening gathering his courage before the door of Hef, who served Elas, and standing awkwardly inside the door when the old man admitted him.
“Hef,” he said, “may I talk to you about Mim?”
“My lord?” asked the old man, bowing.
“What if I wanted to marry her? What should I do?”
The old nemet looked quite overcome then, and bowed several times, looking up at him with a distraught expression. “Lord Kurt, she is only chan.”
“Do I not speak to you? Are you the one who says yes or no?”
“Let my lord not be offended. I must ask Mim.”
“Mim agrees,” said Kurt. Then he thought that it was not his place to have asked Mim, and that he shamed her and embarrassed Hef; but Hef regarded him with patience and even a certain kindliness.
“But I must ask Mim,” said Hef. “That is the way of it. And then I must speak to Kta-ifhan, and to Nym and lady Ptas.”
“Does the whole house have to give consent?” Kurt let forth, without pausing to think.
“Yes, my lord. I shall speak to the family, and to Mim. It is proper that I speak to Mim.”
“I am honored,” Kurt murmured, the polite phrase, and he went upstairs to his own quarters to gather his nerves.
He felt much relieved that it was over. Hef would consent. He was sure what Mim would answer her father, and that would satisfy Hef.
He was preparing for bed when Kta came up the stairs and asked admittance. The nemet had a troubled look and Kurt knew by sure instinct what had brought him. He would almost have begged Kta to go away, but he was under Kta’s roof and he did not have that right.
“You have talked with Hef,” Kurt said, to make it easier for him.
“Let me in, my friend.”
Kurt backed from the door, offering Kta a chair. It would have been proper to offer tea also. He would have had to summon Mim for that. He would not do it.
“Kurt,” said Kta, “please, sit down also. I must speak to you… I must beg your kindness to hear me.”
“You might find it more comfortable simply to tell me what is in your mind from the beginning,” Kurt said, taking the other chair. “Yes or no, are you going to interfere?”
“I am concerned for Mim. It is not as simple as you may hope. Will you hear me? If your anger forbids, then we will go down and drink tea and wait for a better mind, but I am bound to say these things.”