Naomi finished sweeping the room as Caspian stared at her. His silence was mildly unnerving, but she still preferred it to inane chatter.
Still. What did he want? Was she doing the right thing, or irritating him? She wished he would make his expectations clear so that she could fulfill them. She wanted to be a good wife.
Setting the broom aside, she went back to the bowl of kitchen scraps and eggshells. She almost asked where to dispose of them, but then remembered something Mayra had taught her.
"Is there a garden?" She asked suddenly. Caspian looked at her, confused.
"Pardon?"
"I didn't look around entirely. Is there a garden outside?" Naomi hoped the question wasn't somehow insulting. He reacted so strangely to things she said sometimes.
"There are some vegetable plants around the East side. I don't tend them much, but they're there." Caspian replied finally.
Naomi smiled at him and left the house to go deposit the kitchen scraps there. When she returned, Caspian was still seated at the breakfast table. She noticed, not for the first time that morning, that he was rubbing one of his shoulders absently.
"Are you hurt?" Maybe that was why he wasn't up and helping with chores? Or maybe he just didn't do as much in the morning. In the desert, and even the scrublands, everything had to be done early in the day before the heat took over.
Naomi was used to working extremely hard early in the day so that a rest could be taken in the afternoon. Perhaps that wasn't a consideration here.
Caspian eyed her with… resentment? She hadn't hurt him. Why should he glare at her?
"I'm fine," He replied unconvincingly. He still did not stand.
She decided to sit back down and let him set the tone for the day. They sat in awkward silence as she waited for instruction or any indication as to his desires. She was eager to get to work and prove herself worthy and useful, but if that was not what he wanted…
"Clearly you have something to ask. You're fidgeting," He accused. She dropped her eyes in shame and clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
"Please tell me your expectations of me for today." Naomi worked up the courage to state her desires.
"I'm sorry?" He blinked at her.
"I don't know what you want! Just tell me, please. Would you like me to learn to tend the animals? Weed the garden? Am I to learn the catching of fish? Are we to sit here and talk today to get to know each other? Are we expected to be seen together around the settlement?" Her words got more desperate with every question.
She had thought her worries would dissipate after the wedding. In some ways they had, but new anxieties had quickly flown in to replace them.
He pursed his lips. Was that amusement he was hiding?
"No, we are not… expected to be seen. Not for a week or so."
Naomi's eyes widened. "That long? But why?"
Caspian suddenly laughed, loudly enough that it startled her. What had she said? Was it… oh dear, had she inadvertently missed some humor around… her face burned intensely, and she swallowed the wave of humiliation that washed over her.
What an awkward way to start a marriage.
___________
Mayra joined Cora in tending her animals and doing tasks around the home. Though the older woman initially protested that Mayra was a guest of their people and should not be laboring, Mayra insisted that by involving herself in their daily lives, she would learn better how to match the new Rhone brides and prepare them for the expectations of Ceto.
Cora admitted that it made a lot of sense, and welcomed the young woman into her life. Haf was preparing for a fishing voyage, so having a companion suited the matriarch.
"I saw a beautiful painting of the sea," Mayra said by way of conversation. "In Klain. I loved staring at it, but it does not compare to seeing the ocean with my own eyes."
"A painting?" Cora asked curiously. "Who would come to the sea and then leave it?"
"Dierdre, Lysander's wife. I believe she accompanied him when he came to negotiate the initial treaty many years ago." Mayra wondered what the Cetoans thought of Lysander now. Probably nothing terribly kind.
"I remember her. The first foreign woman I'd ever met." Cora's eyes became unfocused as she remembered. "She desired so much to go out with her husband on a ship, but such things are not usually allowed."
"Why is that?" Mayra asked.
"Safety," Cora's tone made it clear that she would not elaborate, so Mayra sighed and continued helping the older woman with the daily tasks of life.
She took a bucket to fetch fresh water for the day. Though the amount gathered from the evening before had been enough for morning chores and breakfast, more would be needed for the rest of the day's activities.
"Good morning!" Peter chimed from nearby, and Mayra smiled at him. The familiar face was a blessing as she tried to learn so many new things.
"Hello, Peter. How are you today?" Mayra asked.
"I am well. A bit tired, but not nearly as much as you, probably." He took up a steady pace as he walked beside her.
"What makes you say that?" She blinked at him in confusion.
"Well, after all your dancing last night, I mean. You must be exhausted." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.
"'All my dancing', as you put it, was one or two songs with a couple of nice young men who offered to teach me some steps. That research will be valuable to the new Rhone women arriving. If I can teach them those dances before their own weddings, they'll be less nervous!" Mayra resented the implication in his words.
"Hm, yes. One or two or eight songs," He replied, "But who's counting? I mean, other than the men who were chasing after your attention."
"Chasing after my attention? They were being polite, Peter. I'm sure they were instructed to make sure the visitors felt welcome."
"How are you still this naive?" He shook his head in bewilderment. "Cetoans are DESPERATE for brides. It's been two years since the majority of their eligible young women were lost. Even if you were half as pretty as you are, you'd have several men throwing themselves at your feet here."
"You're being incredibly unfair to them. They were polite, not desperate," She paused as she mentally reviewed a few of the interactions she'd had and had to amend her statement. "Well, most of them."
"Aha!" Peter lifted a finger in triumph. "I'm right!"
"No, you're being influenced by my overprotective brother who I'm sure has told you to make sure that I don't fall in love and get married here." Mayra snapped.
"He didn't say that exactly." Peter suddenly found the ground terribly interesting.
"But I was close." Mayra was certain of that.
"Mmm," Peter hummed noncommittally. "So what will you do now that Naomi is married? Head back to Klain?"
"Of course not! There's so much work to do here. I'm going to spend time with Cora learning about how Cetoan women order their day, get to know the men that will be vying for brides to get an idea of their various personalities… everything I can to make sure the Rhone brides go to good homes."
"I don't think I like the idea of you getting to know a bunch of men alone," Peter said. "I mean, you just admitted that some were desperate. What if they're after you, and not a bride for you to match them with?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm a matchmaker! They know what I'm here for." Mayra insisted. Peter was being overprotective. "Cora told me they're already sending another boat up the river soon. This one should be able to carry the brides directly here once they gather in Klain. I need to be prepared for their arrival!"
Water travel was much faster than Mayra thought. Cora had explained to her how once they fitted a boat for the river, they could either row upstream, sail if the wind was favorable, or use horses on the river banks to walk and pull particularly heavy loads from the land. Coming back downstream was of course even faster and easier.
They hadn't had reason to go far upstream until now, so a boat had to be specially fitted to make sure it was flat enough underneath (Cora had used some boating terms Mayra didn't understand) so that the river bed would not scrape it.
"I still don't like it," Peter grumbled, referring to Mayra interacting with all the young single Cetoan men. Mayra sighed. She supposed Peter was there, in part, to protect her.
"Then lurk around me, if you must, but don't get in the way of my job!" She chastised him.
"Deal," Peter agreed.