tall and strongly built enough to make Gilla almost feel small. She blinked at
the magnificence of the quilted petticoat, whose crimson brocade had been
overlaid with gold-work until its original pattern could hardly be discerned,
surmounted by panniers of deep blue cut velvet and a corset of the same material
with long, tight sleeves. She had not realized before now that beneath the
cloaks that Beysib noblewomen wore outside, their breasts were displayed.
Kurrekai’s breasts were large, firm, and bore nipples that had been intricately
painted with a pattern in scarlet and gold.
‘Do be seated. I will send for tea.’ Lady Kurrekai clapped her hands, subsiding
back on to her couch in a rustle of silk. Vanda thrust a hassock behind her
mother, and Gilla, who was finding that her knees had an alarming tendency to
give way, sat down gratefully.
‘Your daughter has been very helpful to me,’ the lady continued languidly. ‘She
is quick, and oh, such pretty hair.’
Vanda blushed and took the tea tray from the Beysib woman who had brought it to
the door, set it on a low table of some intricately carven dark red wood, and
began to pour. The tea service was made from a porcelain so fine it seemed
translucent, and Gilla was abruptly conscious of the fact that she had not
changed her gown since Lalo fell ill, and that her hair was coming down.
She wanted to get to the point of this visit and get out of here, but the Beysib
noblewoman was inhaling the fragrance of her tea as if nothing else in the
universe mattered just now. Vanda remained kneeling before her, until Kurrekai