[Bêthberry]

"And to you, dear brother."

Gjeela not lost the art of sarcasm with her newly-granted responsibilities, that much was sure. Bekah had always marvelled how her daughter was so much more verbally sharp than her son. Her children were of equal intelligence, but such different personalities! Gjeela had always been fidgity, active, sometime flighty as her attention had been drawn from one stimulating object or idea to another. Siamak had been the reserved one, sitting calmly for long periods of time and quietly observing things. Bekah had soon learnt he was not passive, for he would always later ask questions about events and things he had seen.

"Gjeela, it is time for you--and Siamak--to leave behind your private feelings for each other and assume your royal duties."

"Mother, why do you assume I have not already?"

"Because," replied Bekah, not without some sense of irony, " I know how dear your brother is to you. In all the forms of courtly and public courtesies, where civillity and politeness are essential, you must be careful never to make a statement that is an outright lie."

"Courtiers do that all the time. And don't you, Mother?"

"Gjeela, are you going to pick a fight?" interjected Siamak.

"Of course not, dear brother. You are the better one at that than I."

"Gjeela, it is true that I often hold back my personal feelings, but that is because there are often times when my personal feelings are not what is required for the good of Pashtia. You and your brother are beginning your first public steps into the dilemma of royalty. In your person you are the country, and you must learn to speak for the country and not yourself."

"Is this why you called us here, Mother?" spoke Siamak, anxious to try to smooth things over.

"Indeed, it is, my son. Come, let us find a place where we can sit comfortably and talk. Homay, please see to the arrangment for this afternoon's affairs." With thoss words, Bekah guided her children into her private room, where a low table had been prepared with fresh fruits and water. It was close enough to her window to look out upon the city beyond the palace, but no so close that their words could be heard from the balcony. The very wind, Bekah knew, had ears to carry their conversation. Not that what she had to say was conspiratorial, but that she simply wished privacy for her children.

"So will you tell us to accept this alliance?" Gjeela asked.

"No, my daughter. I will not tell you what decision to make."

"So why are we here?"

"Impatient one! Listen and reflect and make that conclusion yourself when we are done."

Siamak would have interjected had Bekah not given him a warning glance. She did not favour him, but it is true that she more often found herself embroiled in arguments with her daughter.

"I wish to hear you discuss how you might go about making this decision, what kinds of points you might consider, who you might consult."

"I am already consulting with General Morgôs," replied Siamak, "and in fact,..."

"Find, that is good to know," quickly replied Bekah. "But I want you first to think about some of the history you have learned. Your father was always unhappy that I taught you so much of Alanzia's history. He assumed I was making you too friendly to his former enemy, but he misunderstood my purpose."

"And what was your purpose, Mother?" Gjeela asked.

"I wanted you to know how another culture thought, what its true values were, where those valuse differed from what sometimes the people think they are. I wanted you to understand that when dealing with other countries and cultures you must not assume they are like yours and will react as you do."

"Why was this important?" Siamak asked. "Couldn't you simply have told us what Alanzia was like?"

"Yes, but then that would deny you the opportunity to make your own reflections."

"Do you miss Alanzia, Mother?" asked Gjeela, suddenly.

"I did, much at first, but one important factor finally made me understand something very important about my new land."

The two children looked at her and at each other. Bekah remained silent.

"You won't tell us?" inquired Siamak. She shook her head. "Tell me what you remember about Alanzia."

"It is a strongly centrally controlled government, with all authority held closely by the King," he replied.

"The Avari are under pain of death if they enter it. Justice is swift."

"Indeed. Can you imagine what would have happened had I been a Pashtian princess sent to become a Queen of Alanzia?"

"You would have been mistrusted."

"Worse."

"Worse, Mother?" asked Gjeela.

"Worse, my daughter."

"You would have been removed once your usefulness was over, once you had born children, or the country decided you were no longer a guarantor of peace?" deicded Siamak.

"Yes. You understood your history lessons well. I wish your father could know this."

"And so what are you telling us, Mother?" Gjeela inquired, impatient that Siamak had made a deduction she had not seen.

"I am suggesting you think very hard about what the values are of your country, and learn as much as you can of the Emissary's land and purpose. Tell me, now, What do you understand about alliances between countries?"

Bekah leaned back into the cushions, chewing thoughtfully on some grapes while she waited for her two children to reply. Was she helping them grow to a royal role? She hoped she was.