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“If you dream of respect and a paramour, then you will find poetry and the arts a more elegant solution. Fighting as I do is just a poorer and lustier cousin to good business. You might find the debtors to be more lethal. It is as Nesirah says, I make my loved ones sick with worry,” you tell Sarello.
“I thought you would understand,” Sarello says, sounding defeated.
“I do. It is only that you should know the truth, cousin. I have walked the streets and made dealings with many men. All speak of Lys and her greed. There will be fighting and this time it will be on the mainland. And it will be dirty work,” you explain, then give him a mischievous smirk. “If were to throw caution to the wind… what better time?”
“Vaaro,” Nesirah says with reproach as Sarello’s grin comes back.
“What? Best get it out of his blood now. Elsewise you will have him walking the streets with bravos, lifting skirts and drinking til sunrise,” you say.
“Do you speak from experience?” Nesirah teases.
“No. I’m not my brother. I followed Father’s path. Holding a blade with purpose steadies hand and mind,” you boast, flexing your hand. It is rarely spoken of, but it is also no secret that your father was a sellsword with the Band of Nine. His own father, your grandsire, was a petty peddler. A steady hand and steady blade let the humble Elaaro Orlios rise from the cobblestones to the high tables of the trade syndicates and to claim the hand of a lady kin to a former magister. Though it seems your words have fallen flat. Nesirah’s smile has vanished and Sallero looks uncomfortable. Was it the jape at your brother?
“I will think on your words, cousin,” Sallero assures before excusing himself to see after something else, leaving you near enough alone with your good sister.
“There is more of your brother in you than I thought,” Nesirah finally comments by way of breaking silence. “First a paramour and now low japes.”
“The girl has purpose,” you say, frowning at your misstep. “You did not mind a jape before.”
“In private and if said to be sweet to me. He is still my husband, and Sallero takes your words to heart. To insult him is to insult me,” she says.
“He was on mind. You ask me to prick at Varelio’s pride to what gain? He is not like to listen to me,” you say.
“He is family. Your family. He may heed your words where he will not heed mine,” Nesirah says.
“I feel for your plight, but you must know I do not take risks for no gain,” you say for her to sweeten to a bargain. She does not.
