“Yes? Every day? Go on,” prompted my lady, arranging the neglected violets, her face turned half away.
“Well, every day, and every night, and all the time, I want to see you, Shahzadi, even if I don’t say so.”
“Women like being told the things they know,” remarked Aryenis.
“Even ones with good memories?”
“The better their memories, the more they like it. So now you know.”
Then she sat down in the chair, propping her rounded chin on one hand, as she does when she is thinking, looking at me silently. I turned over and pulled myself up on my pillows to see her better, and my ribs where the spear hit me hurt badly as I turned. I suppose Aryenis saw the grimace, for she was out of her chair in a flash to help me and to pack up the pillows.
“Does your leg hurt much, Harilek?” she asked, suddenly anxious.
“Nothing much. My side’s all stiff, though; that’s what caught me then.”
“Your side?”
“Yes. I bumped a spear in the mix-up. Thanks to Paulos’s mail, it didn’t go in, but it’s a bit sore. You see, your gift repaid your debt for you, all right, as you hoped it might.”