“Don’t worry about it. We’ve had enough of that for one day. Let’s talk about you. We’ve barely had time to discuss what matters.”
She blinked at Yorso, but trying to figure out how to deal with these strange men was more than her fuzzy brain could take. “I’m not sure what would interest you.”
“What’s a typical day in your life? What was it like to live in that convent colony, good and bad?”
Osopa joined them on the bed, his expression showing interest.
“You don’t need to hear about my boring existence as an aspirant. Tell me about your lives instead.”
Tukui held her hand, kissing her fingertips. “You first.”
When they continued to insist, she gave in. She gave them the tedious list of cleaning, sewing, cooking, and praying—stressing how good she was at household tasks, so they’d understand all she could offer. As she did so, she was sad that she’d drifted through the past years as little more than a ghostly maid, existing on the fringes of the convent’s society. Had she really kept to herself so much? With the exception of Mary, she’d gotten along with the other girls, but doubted they could be counted as friends. Only Sister Bernadette had shared any part of her thoughts with Tina.
It was a pathetic account, but the clan listened as avidly as if she shared a high-stakes action-adventure or medical drama. They didn’t seem to mind her interrupting herself with frequent yawning, or when she lost track of what she was saying. They only interrupted to explain she wasn’t their maid, or when she began to share the funny or interesting things another aspirant or nun had done. They insisted she talk about herself.
I wish I had a real story to relate. I wish I’d accomplished something. She thought of her favorite actress, who’d been homeless with her family as a little girl and grew up to be lauded as the best performer of her generation. She had wonderful stories.
Tina realized she’d stopped talking. Her eyes were closed, and she couldn’t force them open. Someone stroked her hair. A gentle kiss fell on her forehead.
“Thank the ancestors. I was afraid she’d be too wound up to rest.”
“She’ll sleep well tonight. Tomorrow we’ll have to work on this notion of hers—”
But whatever Tukui wanted to work on, Tina never heard. Sleep claimed her in an instant, and she dreamed of walking the red carpet and waving to her adoring fans, with her tuxedoed Kalquorian masters escorting her.
* * * *
Tukui left long before his shift the next morning. Tina was still asleep when he headed down the corridor, his mind running a mile a minute, as it tended to.
At least whatever strain had erupted between Osopa and Yorso when they went to fetch dinner the night before had eased by that morning. Having a Matara to concentrate on put everything else in the background.
He could imagine what might have caused them to be temperamental with each other. Osopa had been running hot and cold with Tina, depending on how uncomfortable the given situation had been for him. Nobeks found it difficult to show tender urges, and Osopa had the added barrier of a troubled family history. It was easy for him to hoist up barriers and hide behind an impassive façade. Tina needed better emotional support than that, and it had been obvious Yorso had dragged their Nobek out to discuss it with him. The talk must have gone badly.
Or maybe there’d been an encounter between Yorso and his many admirers. That was all too possible, and one Dramok in particular had an issue with being disrespectful to Yorso’s clanned status. Tukui’s Imdiko was more apt to eat up compliments, like a kid given candy, than to insist a jealous ex behave.
The joys of being clanned. He snorted laughter to himself. Osopa and Yorso were worth the small irritations. He hoped his clanmates felt the same about him and his quirks.
He frowned as his concerns homed in on Tina. Her issues were no mere quirks. As much as he hated to, Tukui admitted he was worried about his new Matara. He needed help, and that was why he was hurrying down the corridor rather than waiting to greet her when she woke.
When he neared the captain’s quarters, he slowed. When the door came into sight, he stopped. He stood there for a minute or two, considering whether he should trigger the door announce. It might be better to wait, in the hope