Her instinct was to send it back to the kipu with a biting rejection. Sensing her anger, Burash put a hand on her shoulder, his fingers tightening with unspoken warning. The guard waited, eyes fixed rigidly forward, antennas jolting uncomfortably in small agitated circles. “I consider,” Aleytys said softly, emphasizing the lilt affected by the old one. “Wait outside. You distract me.” She flipped a hand in a two-fingered gesture at the nayid. The guard snapped a hand to her forehead and lips, then retreated through the archway, radiating a strong relief as she left the disturbing presence of the parakhuzerim. As soon as the tapestry dropped behind the youthful guard, Aleytys hissed to Burash, “Should I stand for this?” She poked a finger at the brilliant red material bunched over the arm of the chair. “All that red. It yells kipu. She’s really pushing.” Burash patted her arm, smiling into her angry face. “Obviously she’s had second thoughts about you. Calm down, narami.”
