She sensed a question he hesitated to ask, and smiled. "No, Steve, your adoption was not dictated by the Lords. The Speakers were informed of your need to take the Ordeal, and we in turn informed our respective Clan Mothers--but the choice of offering adoption or not was theirs. Ka'ruchaya Yarra, in her wisdom, chose to offer it, and I am glad." "So'm I. And it may mean I do have a chance of finishing." Tarlac grinned, unable to suppress a short-lived surge of hope. He'd been prepared to die to bring peace; just the thought of living to enjoy it, as Hovan was confident he would, was enough to make him reach out and take Daria's hand even as it faded. "Thanks, ruhar. I was--" "I know," Daria interrupted, putting her other hand over his. "That you continue when you feel certain of death does you honor. You are so intense, Steve. Relax, let the chovas soothe you." "I can now, I guess. But I'm still worried. From what Hovan's told me, the Ordeal's no picnic, even if I do get help from the Lords." "That is true, es'ruhar, but be easy. Worrying will only make it worse." Tarlac was touched by her concern, and even more by what she called him--though her intonation, combined with her use of the male signifier, made that term . . . intimate. It was almost embarrassing, and he didn't know how to respond. "Speaker . . ." "I am Daria, es'ruhar." "Daria, then." Tarlac was acutely aware of her tone and her touch. The gray skin, despite its dense toughness, was soft and supple around his hands. This was a little too much closeness. "Uh, I think the Traiti and Empire have a lot to offer each other. For instance, you--" "Steve, es'ruhar . . ." Daria interrupted again, smiling gently as she ran the backs of her claws up and down his forearm. Tarlac shivered, not from cold, and a gulp of hot chovas didn't help. He wanted to run from what he was suddenly sure she meant. He couldn't, not yet, not so soon--maybe never! He was afraid as he'd never been in combat, and shamed by the fear, but he was unable to deny it. Daria paused, sensing the man's reaction. She had expected some unease; the Lords said that he had never shared bodies, since he had never gone through the ceremony humans needed to make it honorable, as some of the prisoners had. But simple inexperience didn't explain his near-panic response. There was a First Sharing for everyone, an occasion for joy in the clan almost as important as a birth. Then she remembered stories she had heard about the prisoners, stories she recalled only with pity. "Married" Terrans shared bodies, yes, but only in private, as if doing so brought shame even then. And they never spoke of it, never otherwise slept unclothed, and certainly never allowed their bodies that freedom while awake. That had to mean, she realized with sudden horror, that Steve was disturbed by just the thought of such sharing. He must be fighting not to think of it at this moment.