"I mean I can't handle your confusion and uncertainty your damned whining and wallowingany longer; I can't afford it. I've a job to do. Dammit, I've got my own life to live!"

Their eyes met, and Mikhyel's were still hard, still dry, though Nikki sensed at last the effort it took to maintain that facade.

"I'm leaving in three days. You can find your own peace.

Pretend the past weeks never happened, if that's what you want. But remember, eventually I'll be back. And * won't pretend it never happened, because if I let you delude your- self with the idea that it's all right, that I forgive you, you'll continue to fool yourself, and I'll continue having to pre- tend, and that's too hard, Nikki. It's just too . . .

damned . . . hard."

Nikki stared at his boot toes, carefully polished, as he'd carefully prepared the rest of himself for this meetingon the outside.

But Mikhyel didn't care about the outside. It was . . .

hard . . . to hear what Mikhyel was saying, hard to admit there was any truth whatsoever to it, but even without that underneath feeling, he knew Mikhyel wouldn't lie to him, not about this. They'd had serious talks over the years; Mikhyel expected him to listen, expected him to judge for himself the right and wrong of it. Mikhyel had taught him to ask questions, and consider all the answers.

Of course, Mikhyel himself hadn't been very good at that where Deymorin was concerned. He and Deymorin had Nikki caught that thought and worried it about in his head, wondering was he using Mikhyel's previous shortcom- ings to excuse his own current ones, and decided maybe he was, and that maybe he should look only at himself and his own reasoning.

At least for now.

"What were you talking about?" he asked.

"I offered to marry her," Mikhyel replied promptly, with- out questioning who Nikki meant, leading him to wonder if Mikhyel had been following his every thought. "She de- clined. Politely, but quite pointedly."

"Why?"

"I didn't get a chance to ask. I don't know that I would if I could. Her life is her own. Her choices are. But I'll tell you this, Nikaenor, whatever happens, to any of us, she and her child will be cared for. I've seen to it, set the paperwork in motion and if anyoneanyonestands in the way of that paperwork or compromises her future, I'll take her and the child and leave Rhomatum forever."

"But you don't love her."

"No? But then, you didn't love Lidye when you mar- ried her."

"I don't love her now."

"No?"

"I . . . Well . . ."

Mikhyel laughed, and it was an easy sound, not a painful one. "It's all right, Nikki. She's different, now Anheliaa's gone. Perhaps we all are. Perhaps we need to get to know each other. Perhaps we need to know ourselves first. I'll be gone at least two months. Deymorin will likely be longer.

You'll be in charge. You've done well, Nikki. You've made very good impressions. I've had several Syndics stop me specifically to commend you on your deference and willing- ness to listen. They're ready to be on your side. Use that talent you've developed over the years for compromising between your two bull-headed brothers. And remember, Mauritum isn't our only threat. A month ago, you were planning a dam. Have you forgotten that already?"

He had forgotten, because it didn't involve him. It was an Outside problem: changing weather patterns that were turning parts of the fertile Rhomatum Valley into bogs and other parts into near-desert. Older, more experienced men had wrestled with the problem without success. The dam was his idea, one Mikhyel had had vetted by engineers and geologists. The experts were enthusiastic, Mikhyel had said.

The Council and the Syndicate were less so.

Convince them.} 1-1.

Can't, little brother?) Their eyes met again, directly this time, not in the mirror, and Nikki grinned.

"Will."

~