She nodded. “I suppose you’re right, but I’ve never lost my fear of the Man Alexander. He held the power of life and death over me. But if you must go then I should go too. My obligation is greater than yours.”
“Later,” Kennon said. “You’re not ready to return. It will be time enough after you have learned some civilized habits.”
Copper’s face lengthened. “You mean like wrapping myself in cloth like these people do?”
“That’s part of it.”
“Why can’t they be sensible—or are they so ashamed of what the gods gave them that they must hide themselves?”
“No, it’s not that. At least not exactly. It’s custom. And you must learn to conform to customs—outwardly at least—no matter what you may really think.”
“Isn’t that a form of lying?” Copper asked.
“I suppose so.”
“Isn’t that strange. Your society exalts truth, honor, morality, and intelligence—yet you lie about your attitude.”
“It’s called diplomacy,” Kennon said. “It’s part of respect for others’ attitudes and beliefs, a necessary part of human relationships.”