Folio Two, Page Nineteen (svegra mos itzkron tal-tusjga)
I kowtowed to the drapes just as she had done, all the while thinking about sore knees and the cold tile floor touching my forehead. Anumë fixed the way my elbows had fallen and pressed my rump down.
It all seemed so silly. I suppressed a giggle and mumbled, “Please do not afflict my family or me with bad luck or any other kind of evil, sir or ma’am.”
“Good. Now get up. Was that easy?”
We worked through the entire dull collection of “appropriate gestures.” It would not have surprised me had three distinct prostrations to members of the Karatha existed based on their clothing’s embroidery patterns. The bow to the senator, complete with fingers woven together, seemed far less tiresome. I understood why my mother had become an adviser: they didn’t have to subject themselves to such deferential behavior.
As Anumë helped me dress, I listened to the sounds of guests arriving below. My stomach felt heavy and sick. Each addition to my costume only made the sensation worse. I wished that my aunt had not wanted me to go.
“Now we will do it in your formal clothes.”
She finished tucking my hair into the headdress and secured it to my head with bobby pins. In the wardrobe mirror, I looked like a miniature version of my mother with impossibly light eyes.
When I started towards the dresser to put in contacts, Anumë stopped me. “We will have time for that later,” she said. “The kowtows will not be as easy. Slow down to keep the headdress from sliding, and keep your overdress as neat as possible. We are greeting one of the nuamua.”
Just as we had done earlier, I turned to the drapes. Anumë grabbed my arm and pinched. My eyes snapped shut. “What is it? Have I done something wrong already?”
Turning to look at her, I scanned the past moments for any indication of displeasure she had given. It felt like pulling worm silk out of the air or filling one’s palms with rain — easy in theory, but almost impossible in practice. You’re still angry with me about this morning, I wanted to say. What do you want from me?
She pinched her lips together like an old woman and closed her hand around my face. When I shut my eyes, she released and stepped back several paces. “You have such a high opinion of yourself, tyke.”
“My mother—”
“—had a child without seeking family approval.”
“My mother was the best woman in the entire world.”
She leaned against the wardrobe and snapped her fingers. “I want you to get down, Salus.”
“Why?”
“Kowtow in front of me. Let’s play roles, shall we?”
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