The Power and the Glory

Book 1 Chapter VIII: An Awkward Conversation

"Abihira, there's something we have to talk about."

It took her a minute to tear her attention away from the stage and realise what he'd said. "Hmm? What? Oh!" She stared at him, surprised. "You too?"

Irímé clung to his courage before it could desert him. "It's something very important--"

"Wait," Abihira interrupted. She sat back in her chair and fixed her gaze on a point somewhere over his shoulder. She grabbed fistfuls of her mirvomon; a sure sign for those who knew her that she was nervous. "I have something very important to tell you too."

She's going to admit to whatever she did, was Irímé's only thought. The astonishment drove everything else out of his mind. All that worry about how to confront her, and she owned up at once!

"It may have an effect on our marriage," she continued.

Good grief, Irímé thought, thoroughly alarmed. Perhaps this was something more serious than a prank gone wrong. Just what has she done?

"You see, I." Abihira stopped and took a deep breath. Irímé waited on tenterhooks for whatever she would say next. "I can't love you."

A sneaking suspicion crept into Irímé's mind that this had nothing to do with the walking dead. He could hardly stop her now and explain there'd been a misunderstanding. Besides, this sounded just as important as what he had in mind. Even he was surprised at how steady his voice was when he spoke. "Is there someone you prefer?"

Abihira stared at him as if he'd announced his intention to move to Kudgadchisen[6]. "Of course not! That's the whole point. I don't like anyone. I mean, obviously there are people I like. But I don't like anyone in that way."

Irímé had always known he wasn't quite like most other men. Now it was confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt. Very few men would have reacted to a proclamation like that with a silent sigh of relief and a thought of, Thank the gods.

"So you see," Abihira continued, "I can't be a... a normal wife. I like you as a friend, but I don't think I can ever see you as anything else."

"That's one of the things I was going to tell you," Irímé began without even thinking beforehand of what he meant to say. "I'm the same. Maybe not quite the same, because I think I could learn to love you in time[7]. But I don't want... I don't..." He stopped, trying to find the words to describe something that was an inherent part of him but that he'd never tried to explain aloud. "I'm happy if we're just friends and not anything else."

In the poor lighting it was difficult to tell what Abihira's expression was. He got the distinct impression it was profound relief.

"Since we're making rather embarrassing confessions anyway, I might as well tell you I kissed Mirio once. It was to win a bet, it was frankly almost disgusting, and I never want to do kiss anyone again."

It took Irímé a minute to remember who Mirio was. "You kissed your brother?"

Luckily the orchestra was making such a noise that it drowned out his raised voice. All the same, they both looked around guiltily to make sure no one had overheard.

"Foster brother," she corrected. "We're not actually related. And it was only a few years after I arrived in Seroyawa. I'd barely even spoken to Mirio then. Kiriyuki said she'd let me try orakunuru[8] if I kissed a stranger. I didn't want to kiss an actual stranger, so I stretched the definition a bit. Mirio got the shock of his life when I walked up to him and kissed him. He nearly threw me out the window. I think most of the court ladies wanted to murder me after that. And Kiriyuki said Mirio didn't count as a stranger, so it was all for nothing in the end."