Her serious tone caused him to turn from the window. She wished he had not. His directness made the task ahead more difficult. Fine dark eyes caught her in earnest appraisal, and at their clear depths, and the honest admiration in them, Mara felt a twist to the heart. Her words became painful to complete. ‘You should know: I am one month with child to another man, a slave I held in highest regard. He is returned forever to his homeland across the rift, and I will not see him again. Only if I marry, I add the insistence that his child be counted as legitimate.’
Hokanu’s handsome face showed not a flicker of expression. ‘Kevin,’ he mused aloud, ‘I know of your barbarian lover.’
Mara waited, tautly braced for an outburst of male jealousy. Her hands tightened on the cushions until fringes threatened to tear.
Her worry and nerves did not pass unnoticed. Hokanu crossed the room and gently pried her grip from the cloth. His touch was light, and trembling ever so slightly with emotions he politely did not show. ‘Lady, I would expect that you did not enter into this pregnancy lightly, knowing you as I do. Therefore, I can only presume that Kevin was an honourable man.’
Her surprise brought a light of joy to his eyes. Suddenly smiling at her, he asked, ‘Did you forget I had spent time on Midkemia? My brother Kasumi made sure I was well educated in their “barbaric” concept of fairness.’ His tone made it clear he used the term in jest. ‘I am not a complete stranger to the fibre of the Midkemian people, Lady Mara.’ Then his smile twisted. ‘I was the one who chose to bring the “barbarian” Great One Pug to my father, sensing in him something rare.’ When the name didn’t bring a reaction from Mara, he added, ‘The one who came to be known as Milamber of the Assembly.’ Mara couldn’t contain a giddy rush as she saw the ironic humour. As she laughed lightly, he said, ‘In my own meagre way I played some small part in the tremendous events we have known.’
The Lady of the Acoma looked up into Hokanu’s face, and there read a rare understanding. She might not bring the fire of passion to any union with House Shinzawai, but this was a man whom she could honour, one with whom she could share her new vision of the future. Together, they might shape a greater Empire. He crossed to stand before her, then began to kneel.
‘You could care for two boys not your own?’ she asked as he knelt before her.
Hokanu regarded her tenderly. ‘More, I could love them.’ He smiled at her profound astonishment. ‘Mara, did you forget? I am the foster son of Kamatsu. Though we do not share the blood tie of father to son, he taught me the value of a strong and loving family. Ayaki’s merits are apparent. Kevin’s child we will shape as his father would have desired.’
Overwhelmed suddenly by emotion, Mara ducked her head to hide tears. As Hokanu’s arms closed in comfort around her, she gave way to a flood of relief. She had hoped for nothing beyond having her child by Kevin accepted; the gift of Hokanu’s complete support was more than her wildest expectations, certainly more than her wayward, headstrong decision had deserved. Almost, she could hear Nacoya’s voice carping that the man who held her was special, and deserving of regard. Softly she said, ‘The gods have chosen wisely, Hokanu, for no man born of this world could better understand and respect my needs.’ –
‘I accept your proposal of marriage, Lady, Servant of the Empire,’ Hokanu murmured formally into her hair. Then he kissed her, in a manner different from Kevin’s. Mara tried, but her body could not warm to the sudden change immediately. His touch was not unpleasant, simply . . . different.
In his uncanny manner, Hokanu seemed to sense that she needed time to become used to him. He drew back, still holding her strongly, and a light of humour touched his eyes. ‘How in the name of the good gods can you know that the child you are carrying is a boy?’
Mara’s last apprehension dissolved in a rush of pleased laughter. ‘Because,’ she said, for once a woman rather than a ruler, ‘I would have it so.’
‘Then, my strong-willed future wife,’ announced Hokanu, drawing her to her feet, ‘it must be so. We had best go out and inform my foster father that he will need to spare time from the Emperor’s duties to be attending a wedding.’
Mara signalled and the company halted. The priest of Turakamu turned his red-masked face in her direction in unspoken, formal inquiry. He stood in full dress attire, which meant more paint than clothing. His nude flesh was stained red, and a feather and bone cape over his shoulders mantled his necklace of baby skulls. Yet he came in regalia only, without any acolytes in attendance to conduct ceremony, his purpose to oversee the relocation of the prayer gate off Minwanabi property.
Mara arose from her litter to treat with him.
‘My Lady,’ he greeted formally. ‘Your generous offerings to the temple have been looked upon with favour.’
Mara indicated a bonfire some distance up the road, where several large timbers lay burning. ‘What is that?’