“Mrs. Koben, I’m embarrassed to admit you know more about my family than I do about yours.” Wen gave the woman her sweetest smile. “Except for your nephew, of course, even though he doesn’t have the Koben name anymore. Changing the boy’s name to Ayt Ato was a clever way to elevate him.”
“My nephew is twenty-one years old and a Fist, so hardly a boy anymore,” Mrs. Koben reminded her.
“Twenty-one already? I thought he was younger. Perhaps that’s because I heard he fought his first duel earlier this year. My husband and brothers were in their teens when they first started winning green for themselves, so I admit my benchmark is different.” Wen shrugged and unfolded her napkin. When she was especially nervous or under stress, she was more likely to start stammering or losing the ability to find words, but she’d overcome far too much in life for someone like Mrs. Koben to intimidate her.
“Greenness has many aspects, of course,” said Mrs. Koben with a maternally scolding tone. “A jadeless woman wouldn’t be able to speak about it.”
“Don’t be so humble,” Wen insisted. “Men need the help of their women. You’re obviously a very involved wife and aunt and deserve as much credit as your husband for the Koben family’s reputation.”
The woman’s eyes twitched, the look of an animal discovering it has bitten into a meal with spines. Fortunately, at that moment, the food arrived, and Koben Bett took the opportunity to turn back to her husband.
Jadeless women—we have so few weapons, Wen thought, with vicious self-satisfaction. We duel each other with smiles and words the way our men duel with knives.
She tried to enjoy the meal but couldn’t bring herself to eat much. She was thinking of the speech she would soon have to give and imagining faltering and humiliating herself in front of everyone, including the smug Kobens. She turned to the guest seated on her other side and was surprised to see an Abukei man. He introduced himself with a Kekonese family name and an Abukei personal name, as Ren Jirhuya. He was young and handsome, in his early thirties, Wen guessed.
“What’s your connection to the Parks & Nature Foundation, Mr. Ren?” she asked.
“I was named a cultural ambassador for the Yinao tribe.” The man hesitated, then added, “And I’m an artist. I did all the artwork for the fundraising campaign and also the animation in the short film they’re going to play after lunch. And please call me Jirhuya—it’s what I’m more comfortable going by.”
Wen admired the art on the posters and the programs, the designer in her appreciating the balance of color and the expressive modern style applied to indigenous motifs and themes. “Do you do much of this kind of work?”
“Whatever I can get,” he admitted. “I work mostly in the film industry.”
Wen noticed with fascination that Jirhuya was wearing a plain green gemstone ring on his right forefinger. Wearing bluffer’s jade was considered gaudy and low-class in Kekon, a style associated with Keko-Shotarian gangsters. Jirhuya could not be barukan, and nothing else about him seemed cheap or careless. His pale blue linen suit was perfectly pressed and well tailored to his slight frame, a spot of color amid the indistinguishable dark outfits of the other men. His crinkly hair was short and well groomed, and his speech had none of the rolling lilt of an indigenous accent.
“I couldn’t help but wonder about the ring you’re wearing,” Wen said. “Does it signify anything?”
Ren blushed a little. “It’s an Abukei tradition. Adults wear a ring on the thumb if they’re married or otherwise committed to someone, on the forefinger if they’re single and open to a relationship, and on the little finger if they’re not looking.” It was Wen’s turn to be embarrassed. She’d learned that fact at some point, perhaps from Kyanla, who wore a silver band around her right little finger, but she’d forgotten. She’d been curious because of the substance of the ring, not its position.
Jirhuya said, “Centuries ago, rings like this used to be made of jade, because of its sacred connection to the body of the First Mother goddess, Nimuma. That stopped a long time ago, for obvious reasons.” Anyone who wore jade without being able to use jade abilities would be too easy a target for thieves. Certainly no Abukei or stone-eye would wear it unless they wished to court disaster or be accused of smuggling. Jirhuya turned the ring on his finger. “Wearing a green ring is a nod to ancient custom, and bluffer’s jade is easier to obtain now that there’s an overseas demand for it.”