#shaila

The lighter fabrics felt better, and the patterns and designs, the colors and embellishments, all pleased Aeryn greatly. Some of it was the novelty at first, but even once she was used to the Hannish styles, she found…less to complain about.

She was old enough to no longer streak through the neighborhoods in fits of toddler petulance, for which Emelia thanked every divinity, and hoped the worst of this particular difficulty finished.

—

It could be said that Nani Shaila didn’t really get along with anyone, but she particularly disliked Zaine and Aeryn. The mother of Tanzel Eadir’s late wife, Nani Shaila resented his marriage to Emelia, feeling her own daughter was being replaced, regardless of her grandchildren assuring her otherwise.

She stayed under Tanzel’s roof for them…and also because none of her other children wished to deal with her. Tanzel was a man of patience and a firm enough will to mostly keep his first mother-in-law in line. His own mother, and new mother-in-law, helped.

But Tanzel was also a busy man and important to their Coooperative’s business dealings. So of course, the first time back in Radz-at-Han since her mother had married Tanzel (whom Aeryn liked quite a lot, but still felt painfully shy around), it was Nani Shaila minding the younger children as they went shopping in the Bazaar. And Aeryn being the youngest of all the Eadir children, Nani Shaila felt she had to keep the little girl at her side the whole time.

“I’m eight, Nani,” Aeryn tried to remind her. “I’m big enough to go ‘round by myself. I’ll even run errands for you!”

“Hrmph,” Nani Shaila looked down her nose. “You’re scrawny for eight,” she said again. “And tend toward trouble besides. Oh, you’ll complete the errands—in your own time and way, and I shall be left to clean up after you.”

“Or send Rashae to do it,” Aeryn said, before thinking. She winced, and then winced again when Nani Shaila gave her cheek a finger-flick. 

“Mind that impudent tongue, girl,” her step-Nani said. “Just for that, the book stall’s where we shall visit last. Now take my hand; it’s far too busy today and you’ll get stepped on by an Arkasodara otherwise.”

Aeryn doubted that, but slipped her hand into Nani Shaila’s iron-claw grasp and hurried after her longer stride. She said nothing else, paying half-attention as Nani Shaila visited various shops and stalls, many of them wholesalers, haggling for prices, and having her goods packaged and delivered to the Cooperative’s building.

“Almost done,” Nani Shaila said over three hours later. The sun was well past noon, it was hot and sticky-humid, and Aeryn was tired, hungry, and bored. Her arm seemed nearly pulled from its socket, drug about by Nani Shaila all afternoon. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were her own Nani Zahra, or even Dodi Anya. But they wouldn’t have kept her at their sides and then complained about her being underfoot all day, either.

Still, Aeryn perked up when she saw where they were headed next; a dress shop, yalms of colorful, silky fabrics on display out front.

“Hrm. I hear they’ve come under new management,” Nani Shaila said. “Behave yourself.”

Which meant “don’t touch anything,” which was quite possibly the worst thing ever.

The Hyur shopkeeper behind the counter had a mustache, so Aeryn supposed he was grown up despite how roundly soft and smooth his face was, and that he was only as tall as her Nani. He smiled too broadly and greeted them. “Welcome, madame, welcome! What might I do for you and your grandchild on this fine day?”

Most of the other shopkeepers had immediately recognized Nani Shaila as a Cooperative representative. Many of them had known her (unfortunately) for years, but others had taken one look at how she wore her jewelry, turban, and dress and knew.

But this man was young, and new, so maybe he didn’t know how to tell yet. Aeryn watched him, since she was allowed to do little else.

“We had a deal with your predecessor, and I mean to see if that might continue.”

“Mmm, yes of course. I cannot honor any prior bargains, of course; times change, prices go up, and if one doesn’t keep up, well one doesn’t keep a shop. But I’m sure we can come to an equitable arrangement.”

Nani Shaila’s eyes narrowed. “Hmph. We’ll see. To start, young man, I want to check on bolts of Doman silk.”

“Ah, yes of course. Just a moment, let me go find those for you…” He turned and began checking the stacks behind him.

“They’re right there,” Aeryn said, pointing to a rack covered in a brilliant rainbow of bolts. She was fairly certain an adult should have been able to see it from the counter.

“Why yes, good eye, little one!” the clerk said. “If it had been a bhujamga it would have bit me. So many things to keep track of.”

Nani Shaila squeezed her hand in a warning, but Aeryn really was trying to be helpful, and the clerk seemed glad for it.

“Here we are then, madame, the finest and newest of Doman silk!” He lifted up one of the bolts. Aeryn saw dust on the cloth when it caught the light. “Perfect for a new sari, or even just something to spruce up an old market dress, eh?”

“This is a new dress,” Nani Shaila said coolly, checking the edge of the silk. “But I see your meaning.”

“I perhaps misspoke to say ‘old’ when I meant more…classically styled.”

“You’re wearing last season’s style,” Aeryn said. “And it’s not even fit right.”

“Aeryn.”

“But Nani—”

The clerk frowned now. “Your grandchild doesn’t know when to stay quiet, I take it?”

“She does unfortunately tend to be honest,” Nani Shaila said. It took both Aeryn and the clerk a moment to realize what she had just said. “I believe we’ll be shopping elsewhere. Good day.”

She turned, dragging Aeryn along as she strode out of the shop. 

They were halfway down the block when Nani Shaila suddenly laughed. She had a sharp, cackley sort of laugh that Aeryn didn’t hear very often. “I meant to drag that out longer before laying into the poor fool, but his face! Leave it to you to know when something’s wrong concerning clothes.”

“So I’m not in trouble?”

Nani Shaila looked down her nose at Aeryn. “There’s still time in the day,” she answered acerbically, then paused and looked along the road again. “But I suppose it is past time we went to the book stall.”