A Clockwork Snare [3/??]
Sep. 5th, 2007 02:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreA Clockwork Snare: ch.3
Author: Amber Michelle
Fandom: a very AU VP Lenneth
Words: 7763
Other chapters: [1 - 2 - 3]
Notes: you know, despite how important Lawfer is to the story, he's kind of... a minor character. I feel a bit bad about that. I'm wary of doing more to him because I think my grasp of his character is vague at best. ^^; Time to fix that! Why do I always realize this when I'm at school, without access to my book? Ten bucks says I just collapse when I get home and forget all about him.
Warning: I just realized IE doesn't read line breaks while I'm using this layout. This is incredibly stupid. I guess I'll have to switch - in the meantime, I'm sorry if this is going to make reading harder for you. >_>; (edit: fixed.)
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When the time came to finalize the itinerary for their trip to the capitol, Lawfer and his father insisted on riding escort. The had not brought a carriage of their own, and their entourage was small; a few hand-picked men from the front, veterans all, and their horses were trained for war and not suited to pulling carts. The House could spare another, but when Bertha brought news of the conversation up with Raeger's lunch, her opinion rang truer to the ear than their formal protests of burdening their hosts.
"They'd rather be dragged through the mud. I'll wager they don't want to be jostled by any more polite conversation." She slid a shallow bowl of soup onto the table, and a small platter of meat cutlets and bread from the crook of her elbow. "The ride isn't easy on the joints, either."
Raeger shrugged, testing a spoonful of broth. Too hot. "I'd rather ride astride. I don't blame them."
Her nurse snorted, but didn't take the bait. "They'll be more useful on their chargers, in any case. Even your mother must bow to logic."
She soaked a piece of bread in broth, sponging up bits of herbs on the side of the bowl. Cheese flaked from the crust, made her fingers greasy. "I still have a riding dress, don't I?"
Bertha's lips thinned. She'd have known it even without looking up to see. "Aye, the green one. It needs to be let out like the rest."
"Can it be done by tomorrow?"
"You can't be serious," she said flatly. "What will you ride? Abella can't support a saddle anymore."
"Aria," Raeger answered when she'd swallowed. "Elise would be thrilled to have her along in the capitol, wouldn't she."
"You are jesting," the maid said sharply. "Your mother won't hear of it. And she won't have you ride out the gate in such an inappropriate manner, astride like-- like a common maid."
"Mother gets to come back!" Raeger snapped, slamming her spoon onto the table. She bit her lip immediately, bowing her head and pulling her hands into her lap, where they could knot into her skirt.
They expected her to leave without looking back, but she couldn't do that. When would she next see the cluster of maples at the gate, crowned in gold and crimson? What occasion would allow her the expense of a trip from the capitol, or the Millais estate in the east, to visit the house again? Or the chapel, with its silver-haired caretaker and her boyish husband? She'd liked him quite a bit when they first arrived. She and Marie had gathered lilies from their garden to arrange in the study by the window, until Elise complained they made her sneeze.
Artolia was a vast city, but everything in it felt small. Their house, far from the meanest of dwellings among the peerage, had low ceilings and only small courtyards, and the stairs were cramped. The floors were tiled and freezing, like the flagstones outside. It was nothing like the estate; like the wide hall downstairs where they ate, with a ceiling three times the height of a man like her father, supported with thick cedar beams and yellowed plaster that had been redone a thousand times. The windows at the townhouse were half the size, and the city blocked most of the light they might have let in.
She liked it just fine when they didn't have to entertain. The smaller house was warmer, and many of her friends used to make the trip during the winter for the same reasons. She'd enjoyed the capitol in the past. Yet it lacked luster now that she knew she would not be leaving at the end of the season with everybody else.
"The only inn with a private dining room between us and Artolia is Cambrea," she said more calmly. "Would you rather I stay in the common rooms during our stops, just to speak with Lawfer? I'm not sure how we're supposed to get acquainted if we cannot talk. I don't think it'll kill him to see me ride once or twice."
Bertha sighed. "You'll press your luck for this? If you have to choose between riding and your other plans, a peaceful trip--"
"If you don't ask her, I will. At dinner."
The maid continued to argue of course, but even Bertha bowed to logic, she concluded - if with a sour silence. She scolded Elise for this tactic, but it worked like a charm.
The days since Lawfer's arrival had passed so quickly Raeger lost count of them, but now the pace had slowed to molasses, and she lingered by her window again without a thing to do. Her books and music were packed; she couldn't sew to save a life, thus leaving her without any convenient, portable passtimes such as embroidery or mending. That deficiency seemed to run in the family. Elise pricked her fingers more often than the fabric, and their mother managed straight seams with some care when she was alive, but nothing more complicated. Her nursing gown, now folded safely in a keepsake chest on its way to Raeger's room in the capitol, was rather ugly and square, but the seams were neat and strong.
Father said she'd hated sewing, but she'd tried anyway for her daughters - that he hadn't dared laugh where she could hear, because she took it very seriously and pregnancy made her bad-tempered. Raeger didn't remember any such thing, but her mother always had a smile ready for her. She remembered Elise's gown, which had never been finished; it lay under her sister's pillow every night, and she knew Bertha pretended to ignore it, replacing it without fail every time she changed the linens. Maiya had commented on it once, and until then even Raeger hadn't known.
Lucy was very good at needlework. It was the only point Raeger knew of on which Elise and 'Mother' clashed. She seemed to think anybody could do anything, that mistakes weren't lack of ability, but simply a lack of dedication. If the world were really like that-- but of course, Raeger knew nothing of the world, as Mother was fond of saying when the topic came up.
The days were still overcast, but the clouds weren't heavy enough to threaten rain. She opened the window a crack to admit a cool breeze, tinted with the smell of sap and greenery, and caught none of the dusty scent that would signal a storm. The sky was like a blanket, shielding her from the harsher wind that washed off the mountains to the north.
There was a bit of paper brought that morning at her request, along with a bottle of ink and extra quills - she'd considered writing a letter, perhaps jotting down her ideas on the missing pieces of the Asgardian Epic Marie had sent for her birthday. It seemed obvious to her what the missing material should be, but every time she'd written her opinion so far, it sounded ignorant and silly.
After a few minutes of empty staring, imagining the pile of crumpled and wasted paper she'd accumulate if she tried to work, Raeger turned her back on the window to find her slippers. They felt clammy when she put them on, and the slightly damp smell of her woolen skirt tickled her nose when she meandered down the hallway, kicking it out of the way when it tried to wrap around her legs. Like it'd absorbed all of the moisture from the air before it could rain, she thought, wrinkling her nose.
She took the back stairs, creeping past the kitchen and emerging from the house in the herb garden, which smelled sharply of something she couldn't name, but certainly didn't like. The air felt just as thick without the suffocating presence of a fire at her back; she hiked her skirt as high as she dared, for both the cooling draft of air and the expediency of keeping the hem out of her way and away from snags on the gravel path. Nobody had told her where the men were sleeping, but she assumed they had rooms facing the front, which offered a nicer view of the grounds in her opinion. This side of the house would only offer a view of the kitchen garden and the table where the house staff ate.
The east gate was closest, so she left that way and wandered into the wood that separated the house from the chapel grounds. It was mostly maple and cherry clustering together to form a canopy, and fern spilled over the little stone wall bordering the path. Moss caked between the gray slabs and seemed to ooze from the cracks, thick and spongy. A minute or two of walking brought her to a break in the wall where the stones were tumbled; she climbed through the outlet, holding her skirt up around her knees to pick through the undergrowth. It would have been so much easier in one of her old smocks.
An old cistern waited for her in a small clearing north of the path. Raeger never counted the minutes it took to get there; a trail, not even large enough to be called a path, meandered away from the broken wall, taking so many twists and turns that she didn't think the enclosed area was half as far as it felt after one walked there. The trees gathered thick on all sides, muffling sound and adding to the impression the clearing was leagues from the house, maybe in another world completely. The shrine maiden said rituals might have been conducted here long ago, when the chapel had more of a following. Smoothed slabs of rock, perhaps the remains of benches, made a half-circle around the cistern, the latter nearly choked with fern and weeds.
Raeger peeked into the basin and found her reflection staring back, broken in places where leaves drifted on the surface of the water. The rain had left it nearly full, though the water was muddy and the leaves smelled of mold. She wrinkled her nose and stepped back.
"My lady--"
She jumped away with a squeak, head jerking around. "M--" She took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "Um. Am I needed for something?"
Maiya hunched her shoulders and shook her head. "I am sorry."
"It's okay." Raeger dropped onto a stone, skirt still bunched up in her hands. "So... why are you here? I didn't call anybody."
The maid still did not meet her eyes, but there was nothing unusual in that. "Your mother, my lady. She told me not to leave you alone."
Raeger rolled her eyes, glad the other wasn't watching. It wasn't her fault. "Of course." She sighed. "You may as well sit down. Are you cold?"
Maiya shook her head, though by the way she was sitting, arms crossed tightly over her stomach, Raeger wasn't sure she was telling the truth. But she let it go and turned her attention to the cistern. A breeze brushed through the clearing, sending a ripple through the forest's reflection.
She and Marie had found the shrine maiden and her companion here five years ago, just after the first snowfall of the year, nearly starved and huddled under their cloaks by the well. They were still a mystery - nobody knew where they'd come from, and they did not offer the information, even after repeated requests from Raeger's father. Villnore probably, with this area being to the north, but her friend rightly pointed out that in the snow, getting lost would be easy even in such a tiny wood.
They'd spent so much time in this place. Here, in her sitting room, in the attic. She wished her hands could sketch it with even a fraction of the skill Elise showed.
"Maiya," she said when the breeze died. "Do you miss Yamato?"
"... Yes," the maid replied after a moment.
Raeger knew it was a stupid question, and imagined Elise would tell her so snappishly, if she were there. She tried to imagine Maiya doing so, but couldn't quite picture it. "Would you go back, if you could?"
The answer was not as immediate as she expected. Her maid seemed to be thinking - as if there was anything to consider about such a question - and her arms relaxed, her hands clasping in her lap. The breeze picked up again and played with wisps of her ebon hair, escaped from her knotted bun. Raeger wished her hair was half as thick, to wrap in styles as nicely as Maiya's did. She wanted to know how long it really was, but servants did not wear their hair loose as far as she'd seen. Bertha's was always twisted in the same roll at the nape of her neck, as it had been for as long as she could remember. She managed, somehow, to make the wings of grey creeping over her ears look elegant.
"You don't have to answer," Raeger said when the pause had stretched more than a minute. "I'm sorry I asked."
The maid shook her head. "I am not sure how to answer."
She tilted her head, pulling her skirt over her knees and stuffing the excess fabric between them to keep it away from the dirt. "A yes, or a no?" Raeger chewed at her lip. "I mean that I would say yes, if we were in the capitol right now, and you asked me if I wanted to come back to the manor."
Maiya was silent. Then she said slowly, "I do not know if I can go back."
"If you were freed..." Raeger trailed off when her maid shook her head, and wanted to kick herself for even suggesting it. Maiya wasn't under her control just yet.
"We should not be alive," the other girl said. "My mistress was not brave enough to die with honor, so I did not either."
"But-- that wasn't your fault," she said hesitantly, unsure how to respond. "You can't be blamed for that. Unless you were supposed to--" Raeger paused, just the wrong thing to say on the tip of her tongue. "... fight?" she finished lamely.
Maiya shook her head and seemed to want to say something, but whatever it was didn't make it through her effort to translate. "Yamato is different than Artolia," was all she managed, and Raeger wished she'd come out with whatever she meant as a response.
She ploughed on gracelessly, now staring at her lap. "Were you married? Did you have a family?"
Another long pause, and the breeze whispered by again, rattling the dry leaves heaped at the cistern's base. There was something twisting under the cool surface of the maid's mask - there had to be. Raeger refused to believe she was as wooden as Lucy said.
"There must be something or someone waiting for you."
Maiya's expression was smooth when she looked up, but she gave a little sigh. "Fate sent me to my mistress."
Raeger stared up at the canopy, watching it shift on the air currents. The leaves were more yellow than green, some red at the tips already. They would have looked like gold in the sun. "Maybe we can find her," she said casually, following a leaf on its spiral descent to the ground.
She felt Maiya's gaze and refused to meet it. Finding one slave among thousands? Laughable. It was a foolish suggestion, and Raeger didn't know why she made it. To be nice, maybe, but her maid had proven herself competant and considerate already. Why should her new mistress curry favor?
Never mind, she wanted to say, but it felt as if she'd be reneging on a promise, even though they both knew - surely - that she was spouting nonsense. Trying to be nice. Searching for a way to get out of the awkward lull in conversation.
"We should go back," she said abruptly, standing up. She wasn't alone here, and probably wouldn't have any time to herself for quite a while - there was no point in staying with the shadow of their conversation looming over the cistern like a raincloud. The sky showed no sign of breaking to admit the sunlight and banish her discomfort.
The maid followed without a word. Raeger let her skirts drag on the brush. When they reached the path she had gathered a train of fallen leaves that crackled at her when she tried to shake them loose, bearing a reminder of trains of a different sort, like the white satin and thread of gold she reluctantly chose for herself at Lucy's prompting. She brushed off Maiya's attempts to help. The way back to the manor was raked clean; Raeger littered the dirt on her way, giving her skirt a good shake every few steps. She hoped Lawfer really was rooming at the front of the house. The picture they made stalking up to the kitchen steps couldn't have been good.
Lucy was inside overseeing the preparations for dinner, and her gaze was unkind when it rested on them. Her nose wrinkled and Raeger, who was quite aware her excursion left her smelling like a wet dog, didn't need prompting to rush upstairs to the safety of her room. No sense in giving Mother an opportunity to speak.
The red dress was laid out again, with a velvety brown taille to wear over it and the train thankfully absent. She let Maiya dress her hair and help her change without comment, avoiding the other's eyes. Bertha would have smoothed things over, or at least talked to fill the silence, but she was assigned to help Elise dress until their company departed, and Raeger was relieved to endure the process without the comments on her frame or disposition. It didn't matter; she was not afraid of silence, or darkness, or empty space.
Waiting for dinner proved more difficult than usual. The dress didn't allow her to relax, and she had no books or letters at hand with which to entertain herself. Time stood still, it seemed, until the maid came to fetch her, and the journey downstairs was enough to convince her the waiting and lolling about had been the pleasant part of the evening.
Poor Lawfer. She couldn't help thinking it whenever he was called upon to speak. He aquitted himself nicely, managing to look politely interested, but he couldn't hide his relief when Lucy turned her attention elsewhere. Had his father lectured him on how to impress, as Lucy had done? Or was it simply that knights didn't speak of their own accord, if they could help it?
She wouldn't mind that. There were only so many things a person could talk about in a lifetime. Silent evenings by the hearth, afternoons spent alone by the window, reading...
This time Lucy had no opportunity to drill her after dinner. The knight-captain drew her aside, maybe to discuss the morrow's journey, and Raeger seized the opportunity to leave. Lawfer was looking her way; she steeled herself, pretending not to notice, Maiya clinging to her side all the way upstairs while he watched.
"I am glad he will be riding," she murmured later while unlacing Raeger's stays, speaking for the first time since their conversation in the clearing. "Your mother orders me to ride in the carriage," the maid said in reply to her puzzled expression. "He will not be there, she says."
"Probably not," Raeger said slowly, recalling her conversation with Bertha. "They're coming with us for protection."
Maiya's brow furrowed. "From what?"
She shrugged, pulling her nightgown on. Villnore, she thought, but what a silly answer that would be. They were a hundred miles from the border. If there was any trouble, it would not reach them without warning. "Why mention it? What's the matter?"
"Nothing is wrong." The maid took her time fitting the dress into Raeger's trunk, folding it so carefully one would think it was made of lace. Their eyes met in the mirror when she rose, and Maiya seemed startled, but her expression immediately smoothed. "You will also be riding?" she asked, adopting her Yamato posture with hands clasped.
"If my dress is done on time," Raeger said, fingering the ribbon at her neck.
"I will check," the maid said with a hurried bow, and Raeger couldn't think of a reason to stop her before she glided out of the room.
Afraid? she wondered, chewing her bottom lip. He was somewhat intimidating, if one looked at him the right way. Certainly he was very tall, and his hair was the most vibrant shade of gold she'd ever seen; Yamato people, on the other hand, seemed uniformly dark. She'd caught Maiya staring more than once, though her expression never gave away the nature of her thoughts. He might be the most repulsive thing on earth from her maid's perspective.
That... would be inconvenient, come to think of it. She hoped that wasn't true. Of course, the problem might also be that Maiya liked him too much, and that inspired a roiling mix of feelings Raeger decided to dismiss for the moment, for the sake of her stomach and a good night's sleep.
Her last night in the manor was the longest she could remember. The maid didn't return. Raeger turned the nightlamp as low as she could without snuffing the light out altogether, and left the flame peeking above the bronze disk. The oil was infused with herbs to calm her nerves, yet the scent did nothing but keep her awake and pacing back and forth before her window, twisting her fingers together. She kept glancing through a crack in the curtains, but nothing peered back from the darkness outside. There was no moon; the stars were blotted out by the clouds.
It was past midnight when she finally put herself to bed, and even then she remained awake, kept from sleep by her aching feet and a new stiffness in her back that made every position uncomfortable. The lamp burned itself out long before her mind deigned to release her from the waking world.
Her dreams told her it snowed raven feathers, black as pitch. She awoke to lamplight and Maiya's hand shaking her shoulder gently to urge her out of bed and into her green riding dress. Grey light tempted her through the curtains while she ate a hasty breakfast of bread and cheese, with a thin slice of peppered salami. She could have been Elise, the way she lingered over her meal that morning. It was easy; Raeger took tiny, dainty bites, bird-like, and pestered her maid with questions about their riding arrangements.
The maid would be riding in the cart with the rest of their luggage, which brought a frown to Raeger's face when she heard. One other maid would keep her company, but the townhouse had its own staff, leaving them back there without any other company. It seemed careless if Maiya was to be watched, and yet also appropriate according to prevailing logic: she would be kept with the rest of their property, in a cart that was covered only so their belongings wouldn't mold over if it should rain.
When the sliver of morning visible through her curtains was as bright as she thought it would get, they were finally called downstairs and led out to the drive. The cloud cover was lighter and drifting south with the wind, and the golden domes of the maples over the drive rippled and waved, showing flashes of red to brighten the dim morning. Ticklish pine was heavy in the air, and distantly, woodsmoke. Aria was waiting next to the first carriage, waiting obediently with her groom; the knights' war chargers were tethered farther back, away from the others, and their escort - numbering only four, she couldn't help noting with surprise - beyond them, helms in arm and surcoats pristine. Not a woman among them, though she wasn't expecting to see one. No wonder her maid was jumpy.
Elise wasted no time climbing into the carriage, pausing only to rub her mare's nose before Bertha materialized to shoo her inside. Raeger lingered at Lucy's side and turned to look up at the manor.
She couldn't pretend the stone wasn't cracked, or that the wood sills were overrun with ivy and crumbling at the edges. The windows were cloudy despite being washed clean, and her mind's eye pictured the wavy distortion at the bottom of each pane that, once upon a time, she fancied as water. The curtains were drawn. Though the front of the manor was nicely imposing against its backdrop of gardens and woods, all she felt when she finally left its shadow and mounted was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she hoped wouldn't lead to throwing up. It was pathetic enough she kept glancing back, even once the road curved and the trees obstructed her last glimpse of home. The crunch of hooves on gravel became the dull thunk of dirt, and she was gone at last.
Less than an hour passed before they broke from the trees and the road led them across a grassy plain, curving east and then veering south, where it would meet the Great Road, and lead from there to the capitol. The pace was easy, and Aria was a docile companion, following the carriage without much prompting on the part of her rider.
Three knights ranged out ahead, led by Lawfer's father and two men she had not been introduced to, and she could hear three behind her, though she couldn't tell which was her fiancee. The cart with Maiya and their belongings trundled along noisily, rattling when it went over bumps or large rocks. Just the sound made Raeger's teeth want to rattle. She wrapped her reins around one hand, the other on the pommel, and let the mare wander at her own pace, only directing her when it seemed she wanted to wander away.
The day passed in a haze. Thoughts flitted in and out, but none stayed to let Raeger examine them. She was surprised to find after a time they had reached the Great Road, and looked around, trying to figure out where they were and how long ago they'd left their land. They reached the first inn just before dusk, and Mother insisted they take their meals upstairs in their rooms, where other visitors couldn't oogle them. Though Elise plied her with food, curiously solemn, she could only manage to eat a slice of bread and drink some milk before surrendering to the soreness in her back and lying down. Straw poked her through the sheets, and she only cared a little.
"You have to eat," Elise said finally, eyeing her over a spoonful of stew. "We haven't had anything since breakfast."
"I'll live." Raeger turned on her side and winced when another straw poked something sensitive.
Elise sighed sharply. "I'm not kidding. Mother said you have to finish. Who do you think gets yelled at if we waste money, anyway? And what if you get sick?"
She had no idea what was in that stew, and wasn't eager to find out. The very thought turned her stomach and made Raeger long for dumpling soup she'd had the day before. It couldn't be that bad if her sister was eating it, but she didn't like the aroma that drifted over from the table. "Sorry. I'm just not hungry."
There was no response. Raeger closed her eyes and tried to think of a story to lull herself to sleep; what came up was the sound of the wind ruffling through the maples over the cistern, and the sound of the cook's wind chimes outside the kitchen door. She clung to the memories, the smell of cedar ceiling beams and herb-infused oil, and the warm gold of the pinewood panels in her favorite room. Hot tears welled beneath her lids and slid down to wet her pillow. Her sister couldn't see them, but she may have sensed the mood; she remained silent, and took care of their tray without complaint.
They left at dawn the next morning, and Aria was brought to her, saddled and ready. She didn't know whose doing that was - Bertha's, or Elise, who must have reported to them over breakfast. Raeger remained in their room until she was called, and ate every crumb to appease her mother, just in case. The inkeep escorted her out personally, taller than Lucy and almost as imposing, but polite. She accepted the woman's congratulations numbly, wondering when she'd heard.
Lawfer helped her mount up, and though she managed a smile for him, he left looking concerned. Did she look bad? Tired? She'd slept like a rock once her mind stopped torturing her with images from home. Not one dream nagged to be remembered. She patted her hair and looked down to examine her dress, make sure all the buttons were done up correctly - but everything was in place.
The Great Road beckoned; wide enough for three carriages abreast and bordered by well-kept stone walls, it stretched from the capitol of Villnore far to the north, all the way down to Artolia. It was overgrown in places near their land, but once past the inn, it appeared well-cared for and traveled. They passed a merchant caravan bound north, saw signs here and there of recent use, but did not meet anyone else. She thought it like a great whirlpool, drawing them to some dark fate at the gaping void in the center - unfair as that was to the capitol, which was really quite nice when one actually wanted to go there. The clouds followed them, rolling over themselves like wisps of cotton, breaking and tumbling together again, and allowing her glimpses of the blue sky beyond.
Afternoon brought a rare break in the monotonous gray. The trees revealed shifting shades of green at the sun's touch, and the road warmed. Raeger pushed her hood back and turned her face up to enjoy it.
She heard Lawfer approach before she saw him; it was the armor that gave it away, clanking against the stirrups, and glinting at the edge of her vision. His hair gleamed too, obviously well-cared for - something she hadn't expected from a soldier, though she didn't know any, and frankly had no idea what she should compare him to. He rode beside her quietly for a few moments.
"Do you go to the capitol often?" he asked, just when she was tempted to break the silence.
She glanced at him, and then decided a thorough inspection of her pommel was in order when she found him looking back. "We go every winter. It's easier to wait out in the city - there's more to do." Elise's scolding rang in her ears. She sighed softly, hoping he didn't hear it. "I study at the conservatory usually, since I have to do without tutoring at home now."
"Music?"
Raeger nodded. "And other things when I have time."
He seemed to accept it, but she couldn't be sure without looking. "Do you plan on continuing this year, or have you decided to quit?" She bit her lip, and he must have been watching; he said in a slightly kinder voice, "I really think you should continue. Your mother is very-- ah. I know she is worried about your image, but I would rather you do what makes you happy. Maiya said she would stay with you. That's good enough, I'd think."
She couldn't help looking up at that. He'd relieved her of his stare to scan the trees. "You talked to her?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested. But she needn't have bothered; he did not appear uncomfortable at her questioning.
"At the chapel when you were praying." He sifted a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky. "She's a prime target, you know. If you send her on errands in the city, she might disappear."
"What? But she wouldn't..."
"Run away?" he finished for her. "Maybe not."
Raeger frowned. "Why do you doubt her? She has done nothing but behave since they brought her home. There have been several chances to escape, and she hasn't taken any of them." She turned her attention back to the road. "I trust her."
"It's this mysterious visitor I heard about that I don't trust. As I said, she wouldn't be the first to disappear. Our problem with Villnore is a little more complicated than a few snags in trade."
She huddled into her cloak, chilled. Was the north a problem, or was it not? They couldn't make up their minds. "Will you tell me why?"
He glanced at her, blinking his surprise. "Of course. But not now -- later, when we're indoors." He shrugged when she raised her eyebrows, saying only, "You never know."
"You're paranoid." For some reason, it brought a smile to her face.
Lawfer laughed. "It keeps my back clear of arrows."
While that wasn't the most comforting thing he could have said, his smile took the sting from the words. They drifted into a companionable silence, and Raeger felt herself sitting a little straighter, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her shoulders. The breeze had paused, leaving the road still except for their presence and the singing of birds somewhere in the brush. The trees gave way to plains once again, dotted with clusters of wildflowers. She picked a few when they stopped briefly to rest the horses, and wove them into Aria's mane while she rode. Lawfer eventually fell back to ride with his companions, and she kept close to the carriage as Lucy had ordered.
He'd seemed interested when she told him of her project with Marie - the epic was full of battles, which she'd assumed would appeal to him right away, but he showed more interest in the hero's journey to Nifelheim when she outlined it for him. Morbidly so, perhaps, but Raeger rather liked that part too, better than the others at least. Again she felt the knots in her stomach loosen. He didn't know very much of the canon, but he was interested.
Or, at least he was pretending. The truth would be clear enough after this winter, whichever way he leaned.
*
The next inn was significantly nicer than the first, though it still lacked satisfactory mattresses and real dining rooms. They made do with what it had, eating again in their rooms while the knights spent their money downstairs, and this time Bertha dined with them to make sure Raeger ate. Her worry was unnecessary - this time she was famished, and ate nearly as fast as her sister.
"Where is Maiya staying?" Raeger asked when she was done.
Bertha's glance was sour. "Downstairs with me. Sylvie is with her right now."
"Can't she ride in the carriage with you and Mother, and Elise?"
"You're joking, right?" Elise heaped a second helping onto her plate, twirling pasta around her fork. "If Father were with us--"
"Well he isn't," Raeger interrupted. "And maybe it would be easier to watch her if she's, you know, visible."
"Oh give it a rest." Elise stuffed noddles into her mouth.
"Would you like to be bounced around like luggage?"
"She's a slave."
"Sylvie is back there with her," Bertha said, before Raeger could do more than roll her eyes. "Nobody is going to snatch her with those knights watching. Is this what the young man has been talking to you about?"
Raeger shoved her plate away and stood up. "No." Well, yes, but they didn't need to know what Lawfer said to her. "I'm only worried. She's going to be mine, isn't she? I'd rather be nicer to her. She's a person," she said, looking pointedly at her sister, "and treating her like one won't make her less efficient. Anyway, there's room."
"Not tomorrow, there isn't." Bertha stacked their plates, motioning for Elise to hurry up. "Your mother wants you in the carriage tomorrow. Don't argue."
Her mouth opened, then closed at the order. Her nurse's flat look said Mother had been generous enough already, and while she was inclined to debate the definition of generosity in use at that moment, there was no point when it was just Bertha. If she wanted to argue, Mother would be staring at her all day on the morrow, waiting for it. Maybe even waiting for an excuse to pull her from winter classes, having already expressed her disapproval of signing up for them earlier in the month.
No, Raeger wouldn't hand that excuse to her on a silver platter. The nurse was right before - a few days riding wasn't worth ruining her plans. Lawfer barely talked to her when she was out. She had no idea what he thought about while he was riding escort - she heard nothing in the way of talking back there, and she'd listened for more than a day - but he could dwell on it without her unremarkable back to look at.
"Fine." She left the table without another glance. "Leave Aria with Maiya, then."
Elise made a choking sound, and Raeger slipped behind the screen to change, smiling. It wouldn't happen of course, but her sister's red face was an image she took to bed with relish. It was comforting in its own way.
Morning was greeted with dread. Her sister's face was pasty and her appetite not what it usually was; Raeger's stomach clenched whenever she remembered Mother's order, though she knew there was nothing out of the ordinary to worry about. What was new about being questioned on every second of her social interaction? About being criticized, or scolded? These were part and parcel with being a parent, and Lucy took her duty so very seriously.
Raeger vowed never to torture her children with such stupid talk. She'd have to have them, but she didn't have to be a witch about it, now did she? Much better to be the loving mother that smoothed her child's brow in illness, and provided a warm, loving embrace.
The bumpy start to her ride in the carriage only made her more determined.
"Well?" was Mother's first word once they were moving.
Raeger looked up from her contemplation of the cobblestones running by beneath the window, blinking. "Well... what?"
Elise snickered behind a hand, but her mother only pressed her lips into a line. Her pointed silence was momentary. "I trust you've learned to use your voice, unless Bertha was spouting stories."
She shrugged, turning her glance back to the window. "I talked to him, if that's what you mean. So? He's very nice."
"And?" her mother prompted, sounding exasperated.
"And what?" She couldn't help snapping, even though it was probably what Lucy wanted. "Will you change your mind if I say I hate him? He's fine. I'll manage."
"Watch your tone," Lucy replied coldly.
Raeger sighed, wishing for a nice breeze to ruffle her hair - for Aria to bear her the rest of the way to the capitol instead. "He's interested in what I plan to study at the conservatory. I don't think you have to worry about that."
"Good substitute for talking," Elise said with a smirk. "You don't even have to open your mouth to amuse him."
Bertha snorted. "It isn't her mouth she should be opening to entertain--"
"Eeeeewwww!"
Raeger covered her face with her hands, turning quietly red. Really, she didn't want any advice on that part of her marriage. Burn that bridge when you come to it - that was her policy, and it was a good one. If Lucy even hinted at how things were done, she might have to get sick.
"That is quite enough," Mother said, quelling Elise's giggles with another pregnant moment of silence. "His father has expressed similar interest, and hinted at connections you might make as a result. You will accept whatever invitation you receive, if Lawfer judges you worthy. Do you understand?"
Did that mean she had official permission to 'waste her time' with classes instead of wedding invitations? "Of course I will," Raeger said. "He seems to think I have a chance."
"Hm," is all her mother deigned to give as a response.
*
They reached Cambrea at dusk on the third day of their journey and left early on the fourth, so close to their destination Raeger could almost taste the perpetual haze of woodsmoke that colored the sky over the capitol a dull monochrome of faded blue and grey. She didn't ride again, and wouldn't have tried arguing for the priviledge on the day of their arrival. Tongues wagged, in the city. It was amazing what stories were created between the gates and the palace, when she could swear there was no communication between the commoners near the walls and the peerage at the center.
The glittering of the great lake was the first thing she spotted through the carriage window, the city huddled at the shore still a blur of browns and gray. It stretched almost to the mountains beyond, fed by a stream that fell from the gray heights, and drained into a wide river that snaked east through the Sahma Desert to the south coast. Artolia's maps named it after the desert, refusing any claim to it, but records recovered from Amenti called it the Nile, the mother of Egypt. It didn't resemble the descriptions at all this far north, and she wondered if, beyond the cataracts that made it impassable for Artolian traders, the lush banks and monolithic temples she read about still existed somehow.
"Augh, finally," Elise breathed, leaning out the window.
"Hm?"
Her sister glanced at Mother, who was dozing opposite their seats, leaning into the corner with a blanket folded into a pillow. Bertha feigned disinterest, humming to herself as she mended a petticoat. "We're almost there. Should we...?"
Raeger waved her off and shifted over to see. The city wall had coalesced from the fog, it seemed when she twitched the curtain aside, slanted roofs and the spires of a chapel rising above the bricks. There was no sun to touch the wooden shingles with warmth and lift the gloom. She sat back and sighed. At least it wasn't raining.
Elise's expression transformed instantly. "What's wrong with you? This god-forsaken trip is almost over, and you mope?"
"Elise," the nursemaid said warningly.
She lowered her voice, flicking another glance at Mother. "Come on, Rae. Perk up, will you? We'll be seeing Marie, remember?"
That reminder tempted another sigh, which Raeger swallowed without immediate comment. Yes, she remembered! Oh, did she. It was nearly time for the wedding that would send Marie to Villnore, as a matter of fact. Was it two weeks away, or was she being optimistic? She couldn't remember the date, but the calendar would betray her regardless. "Yes, I know," she made herself say. "I'm just tired. I can feel how long we've been sitting here."
Her sister snickered and turned back to the window, leaving Raeger to her thoughts again. How the brat could be energetic and excited about this was a mystery - she felt cramped and musty, like, well, a book that had been stuffed in a box too long and abandoned in a damp room. The oppressive cloud cover and the deceptive warmth it offered left her feeling moist in her wool dresses, hair clinging damply to her face, until doing as much as sewing seemed a burden. Her hands wanted to turn the /dry/ pages of old books, or to feel smooth, polished bone keys instead. Cool sheets would be nice, and when the night got cold--
The carriage jolted violently when it made the transition from dirt road to the paved thoroughfare leading to the capitol. Lucy snapped awake, and Elise was slammed back into her seat with a yelp.
"Still haven't fixed it," Bertha murmured, hands resuming their work when their world was steadied.
Lucy's mouth twisted. "I don't think the King travels this road." She peered past the curtains on her own side, squinting at the light. Fine lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes for the first time, at least that Raeger had noticed. "We should be home within the hour. I hope everything is ready."
"Will they be coming inside?" she ventured.
"Your fiancee and his entourage?" Mother questioned, cocking an eyebrow. "No, they'll leave us at the square. It has already been arranged. Lawfer will call on you at a later date."
Relief fluttered in Raeger's stomach, and she tried to keep it to herself. They were all tired - even Elise was slumped in her seat again, her excitement over their arrival spent. Her curls were a mess. She'd worried over her appearance for the last day, insisting on dressing nicely for their arrival, but her hair was already knotted at the nape of her neck, and Raeger's fingers twitched with the urge to sort it out. Her own dress was plain and drab, like the city; maybe it would camoflage her long enough to get inside without drawing any attention.
They passed the gates without her notice. When she looked out next they were passing cramped facades and store fronts, arrestingly calm for what she calculated was midday, and these gave way to newer brick buildings, nestled behind a row of trees planted in thin strips of manicured grass. The air was still, even heavier than one might expect from the lack of sunlight. Not even a hint of a breeze ruffled the stunted branches.
She closed her eyes and leaned back, shutting the rest of the city out. They would reach the square; the knights would leave. She couldn't bring herself to protest that, even within the confines of her mind, though Lawfer had been nice - charming, even - the night before. Privacy was what she wanted right now, not smiles and talk. For once, it seemed the others were in agreement; nobody uttered a word, not even Mother, who should have had plenty to say on the matter of what would be done when their journey was finished. Raeger felt herself dozing as the last stretch crept on and on, and couldn't bring herself to care. The sense that they were almost home coddled her like a warm, somewhat smothering embrace.
Cracking an eye open, she saw that smothering embrace was Elise, leaning into her and clinging tightly.
"Don't drool on me."
"You're one to talk."
-------------------------------
Notes? Always.
I really, really hated this chapter when I started out. Now, I'm not sure how to feel about it. It's definitely a rambling transition, but I hope it's somehow entertaining as well - right now I'm not including anything that won't somehow relate to the story later - in ANY of the chapters, mind you - so it's not useless in that sense, but... I can't help feeling like skipping it all would have been easier. Hence the lateness of this installment! I started it only a few days after chapter two was posted, but kept running into long periods of HATE HATE HATE that kept me from making much progress.
Aaaanyway. Don't know why, but I'm starting to like Elise. A lot. Unreasonably, even. Originally she was just a stupid brat, and now... now she's almost lovable (to me). And gods forbid, but she has her big sister's best interests at heart.
Wow.
Author: Amber Michelle
Fandom: a very AU VP Lenneth
Words: 7763
Other chapters: [1 - 2 - 3]
Notes: you know, despite how important Lawfer is to the story, he's kind of... a minor character. I feel a bit bad about that. I'm wary of doing more to him because I think my grasp of his character is vague at best. ^^; Time to fix that! Why do I always realize this when I'm at school, without access to my book? Ten bucks says I just collapse when I get home and forget all about him.
Warning: I just realized IE doesn't read line breaks while I'm using this layout. This is incredibly stupid. I guess I'll have to switch - in the meantime, I'm sorry if this is going to make reading harder for you. >_>; (edit: fixed.)
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When the time came to finalize the itinerary for their trip to the capitol, Lawfer and his father insisted on riding escort. The had not brought a carriage of their own, and their entourage was small; a few hand-picked men from the front, veterans all, and their horses were trained for war and not suited to pulling carts. The House could spare another, but when Bertha brought news of the conversation up with Raeger's lunch, her opinion rang truer to the ear than their formal protests of burdening their hosts.
"They'd rather be dragged through the mud. I'll wager they don't want to be jostled by any more polite conversation." She slid a shallow bowl of soup onto the table, and a small platter of meat cutlets and bread from the crook of her elbow. "The ride isn't easy on the joints, either."
Raeger shrugged, testing a spoonful of broth. Too hot. "I'd rather ride astride. I don't blame them."
Her nurse snorted, but didn't take the bait. "They'll be more useful on their chargers, in any case. Even your mother must bow to logic."
She soaked a piece of bread in broth, sponging up bits of herbs on the side of the bowl. Cheese flaked from the crust, made her fingers greasy. "I still have a riding dress, don't I?"
Bertha's lips thinned. She'd have known it even without looking up to see. "Aye, the green one. It needs to be let out like the rest."
"Can it be done by tomorrow?"
"You can't be serious," she said flatly. "What will you ride? Abella can't support a saddle anymore."
"Aria," Raeger answered when she'd swallowed. "Elise would be thrilled to have her along in the capitol, wouldn't she."
"You are jesting," the maid said sharply. "Your mother won't hear of it. And she won't have you ride out the gate in such an inappropriate manner, astride like-- like a common maid."
"Mother gets to come back!" Raeger snapped, slamming her spoon onto the table. She bit her lip immediately, bowing her head and pulling her hands into her lap, where they could knot into her skirt.
They expected her to leave without looking back, but she couldn't do that. When would she next see the cluster of maples at the gate, crowned in gold and crimson? What occasion would allow her the expense of a trip from the capitol, or the Millais estate in the east, to visit the house again? Or the chapel, with its silver-haired caretaker and her boyish husband? She'd liked him quite a bit when they first arrived. She and Marie had gathered lilies from their garden to arrange in the study by the window, until Elise complained they made her sneeze.
Artolia was a vast city, but everything in it felt small. Their house, far from the meanest of dwellings among the peerage, had low ceilings and only small courtyards, and the stairs were cramped. The floors were tiled and freezing, like the flagstones outside. It was nothing like the estate; like the wide hall downstairs where they ate, with a ceiling three times the height of a man like her father, supported with thick cedar beams and yellowed plaster that had been redone a thousand times. The windows at the townhouse were half the size, and the city blocked most of the light they might have let in.
She liked it just fine when they didn't have to entertain. The smaller house was warmer, and many of her friends used to make the trip during the winter for the same reasons. She'd enjoyed the capitol in the past. Yet it lacked luster now that she knew she would not be leaving at the end of the season with everybody else.
"The only inn with a private dining room between us and Artolia is Cambrea," she said more calmly. "Would you rather I stay in the common rooms during our stops, just to speak with Lawfer? I'm not sure how we're supposed to get acquainted if we cannot talk. I don't think it'll kill him to see me ride once or twice."
Bertha sighed. "You'll press your luck for this? If you have to choose between riding and your other plans, a peaceful trip--"
"If you don't ask her, I will. At dinner."
The maid continued to argue of course, but even Bertha bowed to logic, she concluded - if with a sour silence. She scolded Elise for this tactic, but it worked like a charm.
The days since Lawfer's arrival had passed so quickly Raeger lost count of them, but now the pace had slowed to molasses, and she lingered by her window again without a thing to do. Her books and music were packed; she couldn't sew to save a life, thus leaving her without any convenient, portable passtimes such as embroidery or mending. That deficiency seemed to run in the family. Elise pricked her fingers more often than the fabric, and their mother managed straight seams with some care when she was alive, but nothing more complicated. Her nursing gown, now folded safely in a keepsake chest on its way to Raeger's room in the capitol, was rather ugly and square, but the seams were neat and strong.
Father said she'd hated sewing, but she'd tried anyway for her daughters - that he hadn't dared laugh where she could hear, because she took it very seriously and pregnancy made her bad-tempered. Raeger didn't remember any such thing, but her mother always had a smile ready for her. She remembered Elise's gown, which had never been finished; it lay under her sister's pillow every night, and she knew Bertha pretended to ignore it, replacing it without fail every time she changed the linens. Maiya had commented on it once, and until then even Raeger hadn't known.
Lucy was very good at needlework. It was the only point Raeger knew of on which Elise and 'Mother' clashed. She seemed to think anybody could do anything, that mistakes weren't lack of ability, but simply a lack of dedication. If the world were really like that-- but of course, Raeger knew nothing of the world, as Mother was fond of saying when the topic came up.
The days were still overcast, but the clouds weren't heavy enough to threaten rain. She opened the window a crack to admit a cool breeze, tinted with the smell of sap and greenery, and caught none of the dusty scent that would signal a storm. The sky was like a blanket, shielding her from the harsher wind that washed off the mountains to the north.
There was a bit of paper brought that morning at her request, along with a bottle of ink and extra quills - she'd considered writing a letter, perhaps jotting down her ideas on the missing pieces of the Asgardian Epic Marie had sent for her birthday. It seemed obvious to her what the missing material should be, but every time she'd written her opinion so far, it sounded ignorant and silly.
After a few minutes of empty staring, imagining the pile of crumpled and wasted paper she'd accumulate if she tried to work, Raeger turned her back on the window to find her slippers. They felt clammy when she put them on, and the slightly damp smell of her woolen skirt tickled her nose when she meandered down the hallway, kicking it out of the way when it tried to wrap around her legs. Like it'd absorbed all of the moisture from the air before it could rain, she thought, wrinkling her nose.
She took the back stairs, creeping past the kitchen and emerging from the house in the herb garden, which smelled sharply of something she couldn't name, but certainly didn't like. The air felt just as thick without the suffocating presence of a fire at her back; she hiked her skirt as high as she dared, for both the cooling draft of air and the expediency of keeping the hem out of her way and away from snags on the gravel path. Nobody had told her where the men were sleeping, but she assumed they had rooms facing the front, which offered a nicer view of the grounds in her opinion. This side of the house would only offer a view of the kitchen garden and the table where the house staff ate.
The east gate was closest, so she left that way and wandered into the wood that separated the house from the chapel grounds. It was mostly maple and cherry clustering together to form a canopy, and fern spilled over the little stone wall bordering the path. Moss caked between the gray slabs and seemed to ooze from the cracks, thick and spongy. A minute or two of walking brought her to a break in the wall where the stones were tumbled; she climbed through the outlet, holding her skirt up around her knees to pick through the undergrowth. It would have been so much easier in one of her old smocks.
An old cistern waited for her in a small clearing north of the path. Raeger never counted the minutes it took to get there; a trail, not even large enough to be called a path, meandered away from the broken wall, taking so many twists and turns that she didn't think the enclosed area was half as far as it felt after one walked there. The trees gathered thick on all sides, muffling sound and adding to the impression the clearing was leagues from the house, maybe in another world completely. The shrine maiden said rituals might have been conducted here long ago, when the chapel had more of a following. Smoothed slabs of rock, perhaps the remains of benches, made a half-circle around the cistern, the latter nearly choked with fern and weeds.
Raeger peeked into the basin and found her reflection staring back, broken in places where leaves drifted on the surface of the water. The rain had left it nearly full, though the water was muddy and the leaves smelled of mold. She wrinkled her nose and stepped back.
"My lady--"
She jumped away with a squeak, head jerking around. "M--" She took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "Um. Am I needed for something?"
Maiya hunched her shoulders and shook her head. "I am sorry."
"It's okay." Raeger dropped onto a stone, skirt still bunched up in her hands. "So... why are you here? I didn't call anybody."
The maid still did not meet her eyes, but there was nothing unusual in that. "Your mother, my lady. She told me not to leave you alone."
Raeger rolled her eyes, glad the other wasn't watching. It wasn't her fault. "Of course." She sighed. "You may as well sit down. Are you cold?"
Maiya shook her head, though by the way she was sitting, arms crossed tightly over her stomach, Raeger wasn't sure she was telling the truth. But she let it go and turned her attention to the cistern. A breeze brushed through the clearing, sending a ripple through the forest's reflection.
She and Marie had found the shrine maiden and her companion here five years ago, just after the first snowfall of the year, nearly starved and huddled under their cloaks by the well. They were still a mystery - nobody knew where they'd come from, and they did not offer the information, even after repeated requests from Raeger's father. Villnore probably, with this area being to the north, but her friend rightly pointed out that in the snow, getting lost would be easy even in such a tiny wood.
They'd spent so much time in this place. Here, in her sitting room, in the attic. She wished her hands could sketch it with even a fraction of the skill Elise showed.
"Maiya," she said when the breeze died. "Do you miss Yamato?"
"... Yes," the maid replied after a moment.
Raeger knew it was a stupid question, and imagined Elise would tell her so snappishly, if she were there. She tried to imagine Maiya doing so, but couldn't quite picture it. "Would you go back, if you could?"
The answer was not as immediate as she expected. Her maid seemed to be thinking - as if there was anything to consider about such a question - and her arms relaxed, her hands clasping in her lap. The breeze picked up again and played with wisps of her ebon hair, escaped from her knotted bun. Raeger wished her hair was half as thick, to wrap in styles as nicely as Maiya's did. She wanted to know how long it really was, but servants did not wear their hair loose as far as she'd seen. Bertha's was always twisted in the same roll at the nape of her neck, as it had been for as long as she could remember. She managed, somehow, to make the wings of grey creeping over her ears look elegant.
"You don't have to answer," Raeger said when the pause had stretched more than a minute. "I'm sorry I asked."
The maid shook her head. "I am not sure how to answer."
She tilted her head, pulling her skirt over her knees and stuffing the excess fabric between them to keep it away from the dirt. "A yes, or a no?" Raeger chewed at her lip. "I mean that I would say yes, if we were in the capitol right now, and you asked me if I wanted to come back to the manor."
Maiya was silent. Then she said slowly, "I do not know if I can go back."
"If you were freed..." Raeger trailed off when her maid shook her head, and wanted to kick herself for even suggesting it. Maiya wasn't under her control just yet.
"We should not be alive," the other girl said. "My mistress was not brave enough to die with honor, so I did not either."
"But-- that wasn't your fault," she said hesitantly, unsure how to respond. "You can't be blamed for that. Unless you were supposed to--" Raeger paused, just the wrong thing to say on the tip of her tongue. "... fight?" she finished lamely.
Maiya shook her head and seemed to want to say something, but whatever it was didn't make it through her effort to translate. "Yamato is different than Artolia," was all she managed, and Raeger wished she'd come out with whatever she meant as a response.
She ploughed on gracelessly, now staring at her lap. "Were you married? Did you have a family?"
Another long pause, and the breeze whispered by again, rattling the dry leaves heaped at the cistern's base. There was something twisting under the cool surface of the maid's mask - there had to be. Raeger refused to believe she was as wooden as Lucy said.
"There must be something or someone waiting for you."
Maiya's expression was smooth when she looked up, but she gave a little sigh. "Fate sent me to my mistress."
Raeger stared up at the canopy, watching it shift on the air currents. The leaves were more yellow than green, some red at the tips already. They would have looked like gold in the sun. "Maybe we can find her," she said casually, following a leaf on its spiral descent to the ground.
She felt Maiya's gaze and refused to meet it. Finding one slave among thousands? Laughable. It was a foolish suggestion, and Raeger didn't know why she made it. To be nice, maybe, but her maid had proven herself competant and considerate already. Why should her new mistress curry favor?
Never mind, she wanted to say, but it felt as if she'd be reneging on a promise, even though they both knew - surely - that she was spouting nonsense. Trying to be nice. Searching for a way to get out of the awkward lull in conversation.
"We should go back," she said abruptly, standing up. She wasn't alone here, and probably wouldn't have any time to herself for quite a while - there was no point in staying with the shadow of their conversation looming over the cistern like a raincloud. The sky showed no sign of breaking to admit the sunlight and banish her discomfort.
The maid followed without a word. Raeger let her skirts drag on the brush. When they reached the path she had gathered a train of fallen leaves that crackled at her when she tried to shake them loose, bearing a reminder of trains of a different sort, like the white satin and thread of gold she reluctantly chose for herself at Lucy's prompting. She brushed off Maiya's attempts to help. The way back to the manor was raked clean; Raeger littered the dirt on her way, giving her skirt a good shake every few steps. She hoped Lawfer really was rooming at the front of the house. The picture they made stalking up to the kitchen steps couldn't have been good.
Lucy was inside overseeing the preparations for dinner, and her gaze was unkind when it rested on them. Her nose wrinkled and Raeger, who was quite aware her excursion left her smelling like a wet dog, didn't need prompting to rush upstairs to the safety of her room. No sense in giving Mother an opportunity to speak.
The red dress was laid out again, with a velvety brown taille to wear over it and the train thankfully absent. She let Maiya dress her hair and help her change without comment, avoiding the other's eyes. Bertha would have smoothed things over, or at least talked to fill the silence, but she was assigned to help Elise dress until their company departed, and Raeger was relieved to endure the process without the comments on her frame or disposition. It didn't matter; she was not afraid of silence, or darkness, or empty space.
Waiting for dinner proved more difficult than usual. The dress didn't allow her to relax, and she had no books or letters at hand with which to entertain herself. Time stood still, it seemed, until the maid came to fetch her, and the journey downstairs was enough to convince her the waiting and lolling about had been the pleasant part of the evening.
Poor Lawfer. She couldn't help thinking it whenever he was called upon to speak. He aquitted himself nicely, managing to look politely interested, but he couldn't hide his relief when Lucy turned her attention elsewhere. Had his father lectured him on how to impress, as Lucy had done? Or was it simply that knights didn't speak of their own accord, if they could help it?
She wouldn't mind that. There were only so many things a person could talk about in a lifetime. Silent evenings by the hearth, afternoons spent alone by the window, reading...
This time Lucy had no opportunity to drill her after dinner. The knight-captain drew her aside, maybe to discuss the morrow's journey, and Raeger seized the opportunity to leave. Lawfer was looking her way; she steeled herself, pretending not to notice, Maiya clinging to her side all the way upstairs while he watched.
"I am glad he will be riding," she murmured later while unlacing Raeger's stays, speaking for the first time since their conversation in the clearing. "Your mother orders me to ride in the carriage," the maid said in reply to her puzzled expression. "He will not be there, she says."
"Probably not," Raeger said slowly, recalling her conversation with Bertha. "They're coming with us for protection."
Maiya's brow furrowed. "From what?"
She shrugged, pulling her nightgown on. Villnore, she thought, but what a silly answer that would be. They were a hundred miles from the border. If there was any trouble, it would not reach them without warning. "Why mention it? What's the matter?"
"Nothing is wrong." The maid took her time fitting the dress into Raeger's trunk, folding it so carefully one would think it was made of lace. Their eyes met in the mirror when she rose, and Maiya seemed startled, but her expression immediately smoothed. "You will also be riding?" she asked, adopting her Yamato posture with hands clasped.
"If my dress is done on time," Raeger said, fingering the ribbon at her neck.
"I will check," the maid said with a hurried bow, and Raeger couldn't think of a reason to stop her before she glided out of the room.
Afraid? she wondered, chewing her bottom lip. He was somewhat intimidating, if one looked at him the right way. Certainly he was very tall, and his hair was the most vibrant shade of gold she'd ever seen; Yamato people, on the other hand, seemed uniformly dark. She'd caught Maiya staring more than once, though her expression never gave away the nature of her thoughts. He might be the most repulsive thing on earth from her maid's perspective.
That... would be inconvenient, come to think of it. She hoped that wasn't true. Of course, the problem might also be that Maiya liked him too much, and that inspired a roiling mix of feelings Raeger decided to dismiss for the moment, for the sake of her stomach and a good night's sleep.
Her last night in the manor was the longest she could remember. The maid didn't return. Raeger turned the nightlamp as low as she could without snuffing the light out altogether, and left the flame peeking above the bronze disk. The oil was infused with herbs to calm her nerves, yet the scent did nothing but keep her awake and pacing back and forth before her window, twisting her fingers together. She kept glancing through a crack in the curtains, but nothing peered back from the darkness outside. There was no moon; the stars were blotted out by the clouds.
It was past midnight when she finally put herself to bed, and even then she remained awake, kept from sleep by her aching feet and a new stiffness in her back that made every position uncomfortable. The lamp burned itself out long before her mind deigned to release her from the waking world.
Her dreams told her it snowed raven feathers, black as pitch. She awoke to lamplight and Maiya's hand shaking her shoulder gently to urge her out of bed and into her green riding dress. Grey light tempted her through the curtains while she ate a hasty breakfast of bread and cheese, with a thin slice of peppered salami. She could have been Elise, the way she lingered over her meal that morning. It was easy; Raeger took tiny, dainty bites, bird-like, and pestered her maid with questions about their riding arrangements.
The maid would be riding in the cart with the rest of their luggage, which brought a frown to Raeger's face when she heard. One other maid would keep her company, but the townhouse had its own staff, leaving them back there without any other company. It seemed careless if Maiya was to be watched, and yet also appropriate according to prevailing logic: she would be kept with the rest of their property, in a cart that was covered only so their belongings wouldn't mold over if it should rain.
When the sliver of morning visible through her curtains was as bright as she thought it would get, they were finally called downstairs and led out to the drive. The cloud cover was lighter and drifting south with the wind, and the golden domes of the maples over the drive rippled and waved, showing flashes of red to brighten the dim morning. Ticklish pine was heavy in the air, and distantly, woodsmoke. Aria was waiting next to the first carriage, waiting obediently with her groom; the knights' war chargers were tethered farther back, away from the others, and their escort - numbering only four, she couldn't help noting with surprise - beyond them, helms in arm and surcoats pristine. Not a woman among them, though she wasn't expecting to see one. No wonder her maid was jumpy.
Elise wasted no time climbing into the carriage, pausing only to rub her mare's nose before Bertha materialized to shoo her inside. Raeger lingered at Lucy's side and turned to look up at the manor.
She couldn't pretend the stone wasn't cracked, or that the wood sills were overrun with ivy and crumbling at the edges. The windows were cloudy despite being washed clean, and her mind's eye pictured the wavy distortion at the bottom of each pane that, once upon a time, she fancied as water. The curtains were drawn. Though the front of the manor was nicely imposing against its backdrop of gardens and woods, all she felt when she finally left its shadow and mounted was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she hoped wouldn't lead to throwing up. It was pathetic enough she kept glancing back, even once the road curved and the trees obstructed her last glimpse of home. The crunch of hooves on gravel became the dull thunk of dirt, and she was gone at last.
Less than an hour passed before they broke from the trees and the road led them across a grassy plain, curving east and then veering south, where it would meet the Great Road, and lead from there to the capitol. The pace was easy, and Aria was a docile companion, following the carriage without much prompting on the part of her rider.
Three knights ranged out ahead, led by Lawfer's father and two men she had not been introduced to, and she could hear three behind her, though she couldn't tell which was her fiancee. The cart with Maiya and their belongings trundled along noisily, rattling when it went over bumps or large rocks. Just the sound made Raeger's teeth want to rattle. She wrapped her reins around one hand, the other on the pommel, and let the mare wander at her own pace, only directing her when it seemed she wanted to wander away.
The day passed in a haze. Thoughts flitted in and out, but none stayed to let Raeger examine them. She was surprised to find after a time they had reached the Great Road, and looked around, trying to figure out where they were and how long ago they'd left their land. They reached the first inn just before dusk, and Mother insisted they take their meals upstairs in their rooms, where other visitors couldn't oogle them. Though Elise plied her with food, curiously solemn, she could only manage to eat a slice of bread and drink some milk before surrendering to the soreness in her back and lying down. Straw poked her through the sheets, and she only cared a little.
"You have to eat," Elise said finally, eyeing her over a spoonful of stew. "We haven't had anything since breakfast."
"I'll live." Raeger turned on her side and winced when another straw poked something sensitive.
Elise sighed sharply. "I'm not kidding. Mother said you have to finish. Who do you think gets yelled at if we waste money, anyway? And what if you get sick?"
She had no idea what was in that stew, and wasn't eager to find out. The very thought turned her stomach and made Raeger long for dumpling soup she'd had the day before. It couldn't be that bad if her sister was eating it, but she didn't like the aroma that drifted over from the table. "Sorry. I'm just not hungry."
There was no response. Raeger closed her eyes and tried to think of a story to lull herself to sleep; what came up was the sound of the wind ruffling through the maples over the cistern, and the sound of the cook's wind chimes outside the kitchen door. She clung to the memories, the smell of cedar ceiling beams and herb-infused oil, and the warm gold of the pinewood panels in her favorite room. Hot tears welled beneath her lids and slid down to wet her pillow. Her sister couldn't see them, but she may have sensed the mood; she remained silent, and took care of their tray without complaint.
They left at dawn the next morning, and Aria was brought to her, saddled and ready. She didn't know whose doing that was - Bertha's, or Elise, who must have reported to them over breakfast. Raeger remained in their room until she was called, and ate every crumb to appease her mother, just in case. The inkeep escorted her out personally, taller than Lucy and almost as imposing, but polite. She accepted the woman's congratulations numbly, wondering when she'd heard.
Lawfer helped her mount up, and though she managed a smile for him, he left looking concerned. Did she look bad? Tired? She'd slept like a rock once her mind stopped torturing her with images from home. Not one dream nagged to be remembered. She patted her hair and looked down to examine her dress, make sure all the buttons were done up correctly - but everything was in place.
The Great Road beckoned; wide enough for three carriages abreast and bordered by well-kept stone walls, it stretched from the capitol of Villnore far to the north, all the way down to Artolia. It was overgrown in places near their land, but once past the inn, it appeared well-cared for and traveled. They passed a merchant caravan bound north, saw signs here and there of recent use, but did not meet anyone else. She thought it like a great whirlpool, drawing them to some dark fate at the gaping void in the center - unfair as that was to the capitol, which was really quite nice when one actually wanted to go there. The clouds followed them, rolling over themselves like wisps of cotton, breaking and tumbling together again, and allowing her glimpses of the blue sky beyond.
Afternoon brought a rare break in the monotonous gray. The trees revealed shifting shades of green at the sun's touch, and the road warmed. Raeger pushed her hood back and turned her face up to enjoy it.
She heard Lawfer approach before she saw him; it was the armor that gave it away, clanking against the stirrups, and glinting at the edge of her vision. His hair gleamed too, obviously well-cared for - something she hadn't expected from a soldier, though she didn't know any, and frankly had no idea what she should compare him to. He rode beside her quietly for a few moments.
"Do you go to the capitol often?" he asked, just when she was tempted to break the silence.
She glanced at him, and then decided a thorough inspection of her pommel was in order when she found him looking back. "We go every winter. It's easier to wait out in the city - there's more to do." Elise's scolding rang in her ears. She sighed softly, hoping he didn't hear it. "I study at the conservatory usually, since I have to do without tutoring at home now."
"Music?"
Raeger nodded. "And other things when I have time."
He seemed to accept it, but she couldn't be sure without looking. "Do you plan on continuing this year, or have you decided to quit?" She bit her lip, and he must have been watching; he said in a slightly kinder voice, "I really think you should continue. Your mother is very-- ah. I know she is worried about your image, but I would rather you do what makes you happy. Maiya said she would stay with you. That's good enough, I'd think."
She couldn't help looking up at that. He'd relieved her of his stare to scan the trees. "You talked to her?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested. But she needn't have bothered; he did not appear uncomfortable at her questioning.
"At the chapel when you were praying." He sifted a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky. "She's a prime target, you know. If you send her on errands in the city, she might disappear."
"What? But she wouldn't..."
"Run away?" he finished for her. "Maybe not."
Raeger frowned. "Why do you doubt her? She has done nothing but behave since they brought her home. There have been several chances to escape, and she hasn't taken any of them." She turned her attention back to the road. "I trust her."
"It's this mysterious visitor I heard about that I don't trust. As I said, she wouldn't be the first to disappear. Our problem with Villnore is a little more complicated than a few snags in trade."
She huddled into her cloak, chilled. Was the north a problem, or was it not? They couldn't make up their minds. "Will you tell me why?"
He glanced at her, blinking his surprise. "Of course. But not now -- later, when we're indoors." He shrugged when she raised her eyebrows, saying only, "You never know."
"You're paranoid." For some reason, it brought a smile to her face.
Lawfer laughed. "It keeps my back clear of arrows."
While that wasn't the most comforting thing he could have said, his smile took the sting from the words. They drifted into a companionable silence, and Raeger felt herself sitting a little straighter, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her shoulders. The breeze had paused, leaving the road still except for their presence and the singing of birds somewhere in the brush. The trees gave way to plains once again, dotted with clusters of wildflowers. She picked a few when they stopped briefly to rest the horses, and wove them into Aria's mane while she rode. Lawfer eventually fell back to ride with his companions, and she kept close to the carriage as Lucy had ordered.
He'd seemed interested when she told him of her project with Marie - the epic was full of battles, which she'd assumed would appeal to him right away, but he showed more interest in the hero's journey to Nifelheim when she outlined it for him. Morbidly so, perhaps, but Raeger rather liked that part too, better than the others at least. Again she felt the knots in her stomach loosen. He didn't know very much of the canon, but he was interested.
Or, at least he was pretending. The truth would be clear enough after this winter, whichever way he leaned.
*
The next inn was significantly nicer than the first, though it still lacked satisfactory mattresses and real dining rooms. They made do with what it had, eating again in their rooms while the knights spent their money downstairs, and this time Bertha dined with them to make sure Raeger ate. Her worry was unnecessary - this time she was famished, and ate nearly as fast as her sister.
"Where is Maiya staying?" Raeger asked when she was done.
Bertha's glance was sour. "Downstairs with me. Sylvie is with her right now."
"Can't she ride in the carriage with you and Mother, and Elise?"
"You're joking, right?" Elise heaped a second helping onto her plate, twirling pasta around her fork. "If Father were with us--"
"Well he isn't," Raeger interrupted. "And maybe it would be easier to watch her if she's, you know, visible."
"Oh give it a rest." Elise stuffed noddles into her mouth.
"Would you like to be bounced around like luggage?"
"She's a slave."
"Sylvie is back there with her," Bertha said, before Raeger could do more than roll her eyes. "Nobody is going to snatch her with those knights watching. Is this what the young man has been talking to you about?"
Raeger shoved her plate away and stood up. "No." Well, yes, but they didn't need to know what Lawfer said to her. "I'm only worried. She's going to be mine, isn't she? I'd rather be nicer to her. She's a person," she said, looking pointedly at her sister, "and treating her like one won't make her less efficient. Anyway, there's room."
"Not tomorrow, there isn't." Bertha stacked their plates, motioning for Elise to hurry up. "Your mother wants you in the carriage tomorrow. Don't argue."
Her mouth opened, then closed at the order. Her nurse's flat look said Mother had been generous enough already, and while she was inclined to debate the definition of generosity in use at that moment, there was no point when it was just Bertha. If she wanted to argue, Mother would be staring at her all day on the morrow, waiting for it. Maybe even waiting for an excuse to pull her from winter classes, having already expressed her disapproval of signing up for them earlier in the month.
No, Raeger wouldn't hand that excuse to her on a silver platter. The nurse was right before - a few days riding wasn't worth ruining her plans. Lawfer barely talked to her when she was out. She had no idea what he thought about while he was riding escort - she heard nothing in the way of talking back there, and she'd listened for more than a day - but he could dwell on it without her unremarkable back to look at.
"Fine." She left the table without another glance. "Leave Aria with Maiya, then."
Elise made a choking sound, and Raeger slipped behind the screen to change, smiling. It wouldn't happen of course, but her sister's red face was an image she took to bed with relish. It was comforting in its own way.
Morning was greeted with dread. Her sister's face was pasty and her appetite not what it usually was; Raeger's stomach clenched whenever she remembered Mother's order, though she knew there was nothing out of the ordinary to worry about. What was new about being questioned on every second of her social interaction? About being criticized, or scolded? These were part and parcel with being a parent, and Lucy took her duty so very seriously.
Raeger vowed never to torture her children with such stupid talk. She'd have to have them, but she didn't have to be a witch about it, now did she? Much better to be the loving mother that smoothed her child's brow in illness, and provided a warm, loving embrace.
The bumpy start to her ride in the carriage only made her more determined.
"Well?" was Mother's first word once they were moving.
Raeger looked up from her contemplation of the cobblestones running by beneath the window, blinking. "Well... what?"
Elise snickered behind a hand, but her mother only pressed her lips into a line. Her pointed silence was momentary. "I trust you've learned to use your voice, unless Bertha was spouting stories."
She shrugged, turning her glance back to the window. "I talked to him, if that's what you mean. So? He's very nice."
"And?" her mother prompted, sounding exasperated.
"And what?" She couldn't help snapping, even though it was probably what Lucy wanted. "Will you change your mind if I say I hate him? He's fine. I'll manage."
"Watch your tone," Lucy replied coldly.
Raeger sighed, wishing for a nice breeze to ruffle her hair - for Aria to bear her the rest of the way to the capitol instead. "He's interested in what I plan to study at the conservatory. I don't think you have to worry about that."
"Good substitute for talking," Elise said with a smirk. "You don't even have to open your mouth to amuse him."
Bertha snorted. "It isn't her mouth she should be opening to entertain--"
"Eeeeewwww!"
Raeger covered her face with her hands, turning quietly red. Really, she didn't want any advice on that part of her marriage. Burn that bridge when you come to it - that was her policy, and it was a good one. If Lucy even hinted at how things were done, she might have to get sick.
"That is quite enough," Mother said, quelling Elise's giggles with another pregnant moment of silence. "His father has expressed similar interest, and hinted at connections you might make as a result. You will accept whatever invitation you receive, if Lawfer judges you worthy. Do you understand?"
Did that mean she had official permission to 'waste her time' with classes instead of wedding invitations? "Of course I will," Raeger said. "He seems to think I have a chance."
"Hm," is all her mother deigned to give as a response.
*
They reached Cambrea at dusk on the third day of their journey and left early on the fourth, so close to their destination Raeger could almost taste the perpetual haze of woodsmoke that colored the sky over the capitol a dull monochrome of faded blue and grey. She didn't ride again, and wouldn't have tried arguing for the priviledge on the day of their arrival. Tongues wagged, in the city. It was amazing what stories were created between the gates and the palace, when she could swear there was no communication between the commoners near the walls and the peerage at the center.
The glittering of the great lake was the first thing she spotted through the carriage window, the city huddled at the shore still a blur of browns and gray. It stretched almost to the mountains beyond, fed by a stream that fell from the gray heights, and drained into a wide river that snaked east through the Sahma Desert to the south coast. Artolia's maps named it after the desert, refusing any claim to it, but records recovered from Amenti called it the Nile, the mother of Egypt. It didn't resemble the descriptions at all this far north, and she wondered if, beyond the cataracts that made it impassable for Artolian traders, the lush banks and monolithic temples she read about still existed somehow.
"Augh, finally," Elise breathed, leaning out the window.
"Hm?"
Her sister glanced at Mother, who was dozing opposite their seats, leaning into the corner with a blanket folded into a pillow. Bertha feigned disinterest, humming to herself as she mended a petticoat. "We're almost there. Should we...?"
Raeger waved her off and shifted over to see. The city wall had coalesced from the fog, it seemed when she twitched the curtain aside, slanted roofs and the spires of a chapel rising above the bricks. There was no sun to touch the wooden shingles with warmth and lift the gloom. She sat back and sighed. At least it wasn't raining.
Elise's expression transformed instantly. "What's wrong with you? This god-forsaken trip is almost over, and you mope?"
"Elise," the nursemaid said warningly.
She lowered her voice, flicking another glance at Mother. "Come on, Rae. Perk up, will you? We'll be seeing Marie, remember?"
That reminder tempted another sigh, which Raeger swallowed without immediate comment. Yes, she remembered! Oh, did she. It was nearly time for the wedding that would send Marie to Villnore, as a matter of fact. Was it two weeks away, or was she being optimistic? She couldn't remember the date, but the calendar would betray her regardless. "Yes, I know," she made herself say. "I'm just tired. I can feel how long we've been sitting here."
Her sister snickered and turned back to the window, leaving Raeger to her thoughts again. How the brat could be energetic and excited about this was a mystery - she felt cramped and musty, like, well, a book that had been stuffed in a box too long and abandoned in a damp room. The oppressive cloud cover and the deceptive warmth it offered left her feeling moist in her wool dresses, hair clinging damply to her face, until doing as much as sewing seemed a burden. Her hands wanted to turn the /dry/ pages of old books, or to feel smooth, polished bone keys instead. Cool sheets would be nice, and when the night got cold--
The carriage jolted violently when it made the transition from dirt road to the paved thoroughfare leading to the capitol. Lucy snapped awake, and Elise was slammed back into her seat with a yelp.
"Still haven't fixed it," Bertha murmured, hands resuming their work when their world was steadied.
Lucy's mouth twisted. "I don't think the King travels this road." She peered past the curtains on her own side, squinting at the light. Fine lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes for the first time, at least that Raeger had noticed. "We should be home within the hour. I hope everything is ready."
"Will they be coming inside?" she ventured.
"Your fiancee and his entourage?" Mother questioned, cocking an eyebrow. "No, they'll leave us at the square. It has already been arranged. Lawfer will call on you at a later date."
Relief fluttered in Raeger's stomach, and she tried to keep it to herself. They were all tired - even Elise was slumped in her seat again, her excitement over their arrival spent. Her curls were a mess. She'd worried over her appearance for the last day, insisting on dressing nicely for their arrival, but her hair was already knotted at the nape of her neck, and Raeger's fingers twitched with the urge to sort it out. Her own dress was plain and drab, like the city; maybe it would camoflage her long enough to get inside without drawing any attention.
They passed the gates without her notice. When she looked out next they were passing cramped facades and store fronts, arrestingly calm for what she calculated was midday, and these gave way to newer brick buildings, nestled behind a row of trees planted in thin strips of manicured grass. The air was still, even heavier than one might expect from the lack of sunlight. Not even a hint of a breeze ruffled the stunted branches.
She closed her eyes and leaned back, shutting the rest of the city out. They would reach the square; the knights would leave. She couldn't bring herself to protest that, even within the confines of her mind, though Lawfer had been nice - charming, even - the night before. Privacy was what she wanted right now, not smiles and talk. For once, it seemed the others were in agreement; nobody uttered a word, not even Mother, who should have had plenty to say on the matter of what would be done when their journey was finished. Raeger felt herself dozing as the last stretch crept on and on, and couldn't bring herself to care. The sense that they were almost home coddled her like a warm, somewhat smothering embrace.
Cracking an eye open, she saw that smothering embrace was Elise, leaning into her and clinging tightly.
"Don't drool on me."
"You're one to talk."
-------------------------------
Notes? Always.
I really, really hated this chapter when I started out. Now, I'm not sure how to feel about it. It's definitely a rambling transition, but I hope it's somehow entertaining as well - right now I'm not including anything that won't somehow relate to the story later - in ANY of the chapters, mind you - so it's not useless in that sense, but... I can't help feeling like skipping it all would have been easier. Hence the lateness of this installment! I started it only a few days after chapter two was posted, but kept running into long periods of HATE HATE HATE that kept me from making much progress.
Aaaanyway. Don't know why, but I'm starting to like Elise. A lot. Unreasonably, even. Originally she was just a stupid brat, and now... now she's almost lovable (to me). And gods forbid, but she has her big sister's best interests at heart.
Wow.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
*squee, only with corrected tags*
Date: 2007-09-06 02:31 am (UTC)Shut up, I wasn't psychotically checking runiclore for updates every ten seconds, noooo.Like you said, it's a rambling transition, but I like it a lot? I mean, it IS entertaining, and I'm always curious as to what happens next. XD
You make Elise quite a likable character with depth, actually. I can respect that. XD And it's sort of nice that Raeger doesn't always really see her as such, although she's a person in her own right-- Raeger is good at observing people, I notice, but plumbing the depths of their motivations, she's less than adept at. Bit of a blind spot, there. Lawfer is, as you said, a major character that gets pushed into the background. I think Raeger doesn't pay as much attention to him as she should, hence why he tends to fly under the narrative radar. XD
So now they're in the capital, and GREAT FUN TIMES can commence. XDDD
I look forward to Jelanda, personally.The only quibble I have (due to not having an atlas in my head) is that I don't have a mental picture of the geography of the area, so my brain keeps trying to override it with its 'BUT EGYPT IS ALL DESERT wait is this even the same nile' images. XD DO YOU HAVE A MAP HANDY Y/N.
Re: *squee, only with corrected tags*
Date: 2007-09-06 06:44 am (UTC)Amenti is such an annoyance in VP, because it's in direct contradiction to the actual Egypt, which is at the northmost end of its continent, with a river that runs south-to-north. VP's geography doesn't let us do that, so I have to mess around with it a little. Historically, Egypt's borders have fluctuated to the south a lot, and I could swear they at last sent expeditions to forested areas (Kush, I think? for slaves and probably lumber), but I don't really remember.
Anyway, I think there's some swamp in Egypt too, around the Delta. So it's not all desert! Just... about 99% of it is. Or 97%, to be fair to the swamp?
Anyway! I'm glad you liked it. And I'm also looking forward to Jelanda - almost more than to Judas. XD I hope Elise can remain involved in stuff, but I'm going to have to work on poor Lawfer. We have to like him well enough to be a bit sad when he dies, and all that.
Re: *squee, only with corrected tags*
Date: 2007-09-06 01:32 pm (UTC)Poor Judas, so neglected. LAWL I hope the story track doesn't shoot completely off into space because of this? XD
I enjoyed this chapter, as always, so I'm eternally looking forward for more. I WISH I HAD MORE MEANINGFUL FEEDBACK, BUT I DON'T /o/ XD
Re: *squee, only with corrected tags*
Date: 2007-09-07 08:24 am (UTC)I actually worry about Judas. I mean, he's... I guess he'll be as big a part as he was in Lapis Rose, which is to say: he'll be present, and participate, but his true role in the story won't be visible until the very end. In terms of visibility, Jelanda will be much more in-your-face. (True to character!)
This is so going to call for a sequel. How do I get myself into these messes?
Don't worry about meaningful feedback, though of course it's welcome. XD Squeeing makes me want to work harder! If you ever think the pacing is off, or the chapter could be cut up differently, though, go ahead and say so. I'm experimenting right now, having never worked with anything this long before. I probably won't change previous chapters, but any feedback on that front will show up later. I hope.
Thank you~