Eliane nodded.
“Would you say Peshtul has a strong regional identity?”
“Yes.”
“What gives it that?”
Kimia thought.
“Having to rely on each other.”
She looked toward the window briefly.
“People from zhe center sometimes imagine regional identity begins with language or dress or old songs. Zhat's part of it. But here I think it comes from conditions. Winter. Distance. War, historically. If your settlement is cut off, if crops fail, if somebody's house burns, you learn who turns up.”
Eliane listened.
Kimia forgot the camera.
“Peshtul has always had humans, yinglets, and baxxids living together in different proportions. None of us arrived at exactly zhe same time or for exactly zhe same reasons. But living here taught everyone some of zhe same habits.”
“What habits?”
Kimia shrugged slightly.
“Keep somezhing in reserve. Don't waste food. Don't leave someone outside in winter. Don't make promises you can't keep.”
She paused.
“And don't brag too much.”
Eliane smiled.
“Is that why Peshtulans have a reputation for being laconic?”
Kimia looked at her.
“I've heard worse reputations.”
Another laugh from the crew.
Kimia relaxed by one degree.
Eliane turned a page.
“House Chityala has a particularly unusual history.”
“Yes.”
“Originally a yinglet enclave.”
“Yes.”
“And now a Tradehouse Minor with authority across a region historically associated with human Peshtulan dynasties.”
Kimia heard Kalgkur in her head.
Why?
Because we lasted. Because people let us. Because we became useful. Because eventually nobody remembered the arrangement being strange.
She said: “At first we were guests.”
Eliane watched.
“Zhen residents. Zhen participants. Zhen employers. Landholders. Administrators. Soldiers. Merchants. Eventually enough people depended on House Chityala zhat removing it would have caused more problems zhan accepting it.”
“That sounds almost accidental.”
“It probably was.”
“Not conquest?”
“No.”
“Not a single founding moment?”
Kimia shook her head.
“History likes founding moments because zhey fit into paintings. Real institutions usually happen because somebody needed something done on a specific day.”
Eliane smiled.
The camera kept watching.
Kimia noticed the red light again.
Her stomach tightened.
Millions.
No.
Eliane.
One person.
“What did House Chityala provide?”
“Organization.”
“Trade?”
“Yes.”
“Security?”
“Yes.”
“Social services?”
“Eventually.”
“Political legitimacy?”
Kimia thought.
“Zhat came later.”
“From Val Salia?”
“Partly.”
Eliane leaned in slightly.
“How would you characterize Chityala's relationship with House Ivenmoth?”
Kimia almost laughed.
There it was.
The safe political trap.
Not hostile. Not harmless.
She chose words carefully.
“Close.”
Eliane waited.
Kimia continued.
“House Chityala is a vassal House. Zhat isn't a secret. Ivenmozh provides military and commercial guarantees we benefit from. We participate in institutions centered on zhe Passage. We also govern our own regional affairs.”
“Do you consider that relationship equitable?”
Tarkhe moved somewhere at the edge of Kimia's vision.
Kalgkur remained still.
Kimia looked only at Eliane.
“No political relationship is completely equitable.”
Eliane's expression sharpened.
Good.
She liked that answer.
Kimia realized this and continued before the interviewer could turn it into something else.
“But neither is it meaningless. People sometimes speak as if any imbalance invalidates every benefit underneath it. Zhat's lazy.”
“Would you elaborate?”
“Roads exist.”
Kimia pointed vaguely toward the city.
“Military protection exists. Common standards exist. Currency exists. Trade works because enough people agree to make it work. Zhat doesn't mean power disappears.”
Eliane nodded.
“So you see both dependence and benefit.”
“Yes.”
“Do you see tension?”
“Of course.”
“Between regional identity and central authority?”
“Always.”
“Is that healthy?”
Kimia thought.
“Sometimes.”
The interviewer laughed.
Kimia did not.
“Zhat wasn't a joke.”
“I know.”
Eliane became serious again.