“I am important.”
“Yes, but that does not mean you can kick people, especially courtiers with titles and rank like Lord Fazhmind.”
Israi scowled and glared at the male over her father’s shoulder. “I don’t like him.”
The Kaa’s tongue twitched inside his mouth. He barely kept his composure. “Neither do we,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened, and she giggled.
“Shush,” he warned her, fearful she would announce his rash confidence to the world. “That is a secret between us. Understood? You must never say it to anyone.”
She nodded. “Yes, Father.”
“Now—”
“But if we don’t like him, I should have kicked him harder.”
“No, Israi. It is beneath imperial dignity to kick our courtiers. We must show good manners to all those who are beneath us in rank. It is our responsibility.”
“I don’t understand.”
He stroked her head, adoring the clarity of her soft, golden skin. She was so bright, so precious to him. How fragrant she smelled, cuddled here in his arms. Yet what a devil she could be.
“It is difficult,” he said, “but one day you will understand. For now, remember your manners. Will you promise that?”
Her head tilted to one side, Israi thought a moment. “If I promise not to kick Fazhmind again, will you let me keep the Aaroun?”
The Kaa drew in a sharp breath, finding himself caught unexpectedly. Ah, she was bright and quick, this chune.
Israi went on gazing up at her father, her expressive eyes pleading. The Aaroun lifted her face and looked at him also. Something in the Aaroun’s expression caught his attention. Her long-lashed eyes, set in their striking mask of light brown fur, held gentle, sensitive intelligence.
Startled, he gazed back at her, realizing this was no ordinary Aaroun.
“Father, please .” Israi fidgeted in his arms, tilting her head from side to side.
He let her slide to the ground and stared down at her, this adorable daughter with whom he could never be angry long.
“How pretty,” said a voice from the doorway behind them. It was Chancellor Gaveid’s distinctive orator’s voice, rich and measured. “A golden pet for a golden sri-Kaa.”
Appreciative murmurs arose among the onlookers. Gaveid’s poetic bon mot would be repeated endlessly around the court for the next few days.
The Kaa smiled to himself. Gaveid spoke true. The animal’s coloring did complement Israi’s. Besides, the creature had made him laugh and had bitten Fazhmind. Surely that in itself was worthy of special consideration.
“Very well,” the Kaa said, relenting. “Our permission is granted, but—”
“Oh, thank you, Father! Thank you!” Radiant again, Israi hugged his legs tightly. Crushed between them, the little Aaroun mewed in fright.
At once, Israi sprang back and stroked her. “Hush, little one,” she said to her. “I’ll take good care of you. I promise.”
The shopkeeper bustled forward, rubbing his palms together, before he was once again shoved back by the guards. “Excellent choice, Great One,” he said. “This Aaroun is outstanding for her kind, yes. The best of—”
The Kaa glanced at Fazhmind, whose mouth had closed in a pinched, sour look. “Make the payment,” he said, and walked out. “Come, Daughter.”
Carrying the Aaroun herself and allowing no one else to take it from her, Israi hurried to catch up with her father’s long strides.
“I am so happy, Father,” she chattered. “Now I can be a mother too, just like the other females in the palace. I have my own hatchling to look after. I shall be very good to her. You’ll see. I can take care of her. I won’t forget her. She’ll be house-trained right away. My slave Subi will take care of that. And she’ll be good. I won’t let her chew on anything. And when she’s bigger, I’ll—”
“You will have your slaves walk her regularly,” the Kaa said, shutting away visions of a large, bulky Aaroun running about the palace, knocking over furniture and breaking
“Yes, but that does not mean you can kick people, especially courtiers with titles and rank like Lord Fazhmind.”
Israi scowled and glared at the male over her father’s shoulder. “I don’t like him.”
The Kaa’s tongue twitched inside his mouth. He barely kept his composure. “Neither do we,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened, and she giggled.
“Shush,” he warned her, fearful she would announce his rash confidence to the world. “That is a secret between us. Understood? You must never say it to anyone.”
She nodded. “Yes, Father.”
“Now—”
“But if we don’t like him, I should have kicked him harder.”
“No, Israi. It is beneath imperial dignity to kick our courtiers. We must show good manners to all those who are beneath us in rank. It is our responsibility.”
“I don’t understand.”
He stroked her head, adoring the clarity of her soft, golden skin. She was so bright, so precious to him. How fragrant she smelled, cuddled here in his arms. Yet what a devil she could be.
“It is difficult,” he said, “but one day you will understand. For now, remember your manners. Will you promise that?”
Her head tilted to one side, Israi thought a moment. “If I promise not to kick Fazhmind again, will you let me keep the Aaroun?”
The Kaa drew in a sharp breath, finding himself caught unexpectedly. Ah, she was bright and quick, this chune.
Israi went on gazing up at her father, her expressive eyes pleading. The Aaroun lifted her face and looked at him also. Something in the Aaroun’s expression caught his attention. Her long-lashed eyes, set in their striking mask of light brown fur, held gentle, sensitive intelligence.
Startled, he gazed back at her, realizing this was no ordinary Aaroun.
“Father, please .” Israi fidgeted in his arms, tilting her head from side to side.
He let her slide to the ground and stared down at her, this adorable daughter with whom he could never be angry long.
“How pretty,” said a voice from the doorway behind them. It was Chancellor Gaveid’s distinctive orator’s voice, rich and measured. “A golden pet for a golden sri-Kaa.”
Appreciative murmurs arose among the onlookers. Gaveid’s poetic bon mot would be repeated endlessly around the court for the next few days.
The Kaa smiled to himself. Gaveid spoke true. The animal’s coloring did complement Israi’s. Besides, the creature had made him laugh and had bitten Fazhmind. Surely that in itself was worthy of special consideration.
“Very well,” the Kaa said, relenting. “Our permission is granted, but—”
“Oh, thank you, Father! Thank you!” Radiant again, Israi hugged his legs tightly. Crushed between them, the little Aaroun mewed in fright.
At once, Israi sprang back and stroked her. “Hush, little one,” she said to her. “I’ll take good care of you. I promise.”
The shopkeeper bustled forward, rubbing his palms together, before he was once again shoved back by the guards. “Excellent choice, Great One,” he said. “This Aaroun is outstanding for her kind, yes. The best of—”
The Kaa glanced at Fazhmind, whose mouth had closed in a pinched, sour look. “Make the payment,” he said, and walked out. “Come, Daughter.”
Carrying the Aaroun herself and allowing no one else to take it from her, Israi hurried to catch up with her father’s long strides.
“I am so happy, Father,” she chattered. “Now I can be a mother too, just like the other females in the palace. I have my own hatchling to look after. I shall be very good to her. You’ll see. I can take care of her. I won’t forget her. She’ll be house-trained right away. My slave Subi will take care of that. And she’ll be good. I won’t let her chew on anything. And when she’s bigger, I’ll—”
“You will have your slaves walk her regularly,” the Kaa said, shutting away visions of a large, bulky Aaroun running about the palace, knocking over furniture and breaking
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