![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreAll Armed Prophets
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: January 13 - a thinking woman sleeps with monsters
Series: Fire Emblem 10
Character/Pairing: Sanaki, Sephiran, Soren, others
Rating: T
Words: 9033
Warnings: so not gen. My conscience will prick me if I don't add that pairing tag just this once.
Notes: AU, part twelve of the Summer Chronicle. This is a first and ongoing draft; a list of known issues is being compiled here.
I started this fairly early, and finishing it took me all the way up to the last minute. I apologize for any clumsy or abrupt scene endings, and will try to fix those once the deadline is made.
I, er, also apologize for the length. :D
.............................................
By the closing of the trial on the second afternoon, Sanaki had decided she'd heard enough about Culbert to last two lifetimes. How the man managed to be so irritating simply by sitting in once place and answering 'yes' or 'no' when Sephiran directed questions to him was a mystery worthy of Ashera. Too bad Sanaki didn't have the ability to hear the goddess's answers.
Her office was hardly more comfortable than the audience chamber, though it was better ventilated. After shedding the heavy velvet to allow the breeze to cool her skin, she still felt moist and overheated. It was like having a fever.
"They're cowards - the whole lot of them. One more session--"
Sanaki turned to the second page of a petition for Valtome's cause, skimming the cramped handwriting and the notes Sephiran wrote in the margins with red ink, noting articles of the law or provincial policy to contradict the writer's assumptions. It seemed he didn't care about the man's release, as long as Culbert retained the power to pass the estate to his nephew, who seemed less a good choice the more she heard about him. He had the nerve to resubmit his proposal after her refusal with the assurance he didn't 'hold with his uncle's political ideals.' If he thought that was the only problem, he wasn't smart enough to survive in his uncle's position.
"How long do they think a discussion about the transfer of power will last? Waiting won't change the outcome."
"They might be honestly concerned." She leaned on the arm of her chair and pushed the edge of the paper with her nail. It bowed against her writing box and slid back to her. "I don't think there's precedent for firing the entire senior council, is there? If you'd just write that proposal so we can have it copied and sent out--"
"The copying will take us into next week." Sephiran compressed his lips into a slight frown and turned his face abruptly away to look at the window. "In that time we can argue them down during the meeting."
By that time, she thought his temper might snap - possibly even in public. And Lekain was still imprisoned, awaiting trial, the perfect provocation. "Go sit down. Over there," she pointed to the cushioned chairs by the window when his narrow gaze moved back to her, pushing her chair back to stand up. Her skirt stuck to the back of her legs. She yanked it straight. "I'm tired of looking at this."
Sanaki walked to the door once he'd chosen a seat and cracked it open enough to beckon Marcia. Did she have her orders? Yes - the document was tucked behind the knight's belt. Did she have a replacement arranged to take over her post? Yes. Sanaki sent her off, closed the door, smiled in answer to the inquisitive lift of Sephiran's eyebrow. The curtains billowed in with the scent of warm leaves and wet lawn, leaving the scent of roses behind. She approached his chair with her hands linked behind her back.
His eyes flicked to her waist, then back up. "Any orders you want to hide from me--"
"--are not your concern. They have nothing to do with you." She reached back to pick pins from her hair until the pull loosened and she couldn't feel any bits of metal biting into her scalp. The roll of her hair unwound over her back. "I'm tired of hearing about the senate, Sephiran. You aren't going to speak of them until after Amelia's party. I'll throw you out if I so much as hear the word."
The angle of his brows dipped, annoyed. "How are we supposed to discuss business without them?"
"We'll have to ignore work altogether," Sanaki said. She leaned over him to drop the pins on the windowsill. They tinkled together, glittering. "Not a terrible burden, I hope?"
"Sanaki--"
"Sephiran." She pressed her fingers to his mouth, gathering her skirt with the other hand. "Shut up." He opened his mouth as soon as she pulled her hand away and she grabbed his shoulder, murmured no, and kissed him before he could complain. If she'd only dared to try two months ago, or three, she could have avoided reading all of those marriage proposals, convinced him to make his own-- she could have told Prince Daein to stay in his snow-bound country. Sephiran's hands hooked into the folds of her skirt, helped her onto his lap. He tasted like tea, the slide of his lips soft, his cheeks warm under her hands as if he suffered from the same fever that made Sanaki so tired when they came in. "If this is the only way you'll be persuaded to calm down, I'll live up to all of those stories."
His gaze strayed to her lips, his fingers working in the folds of silk twisted around her thighs. "I don't mind."
Heat crept into her ears. Sanaki wished she'd taken his advice and gone to her rooms after court. They were less likely to be interrupted there, unless Marcia decided to run all the way to the offices. "Are you doing this on purpose?"
Sephiran looked up. "It was a lucky accident." He pressed his nose to her throat, his lips to the arch of her collarbone. "I won't complain."
When Tanith knocked and came in to announce Kilvas she took the surprise rather well, and only stared for a few seconds before she snapped back to attention. Well at least you're decisive, she said, tone dry, and rolled her eyes when Sephiran said I would never refuse my empress's demands. If Sanaki had been standing, she would have kicked him.
Nothing's happening, the raven king told her when he was allowed inside, Sanaki once again sitting behind her desk and Sephiran still by the window, leaning on the arm toward the breeze. Gaddos troops were marching obediently to the border with Daein on her command, and a portion of Seliora's men were marching to Mugil. He offered to scout the Crimean border, but she dismissed him once he'd finished his report on the army and returned to the chairs by the window to breathe deeply of the fresh air.
Sanaki couldn't decide if she was glad the provincial armies were taking imperial orders without issue or suspicious of their easy compliance. They should be obedient. She allowed the nobles to maintain forces apart from the central army because it eased the strain on government resources and gave the dukes something useful to spend their money on. Their commanders should owe their first loyalties to the crown.
She'd heard the general in charge of Lekain's forces was loyal - so said General Zelgius, and Sephiran believed him - but she knew nothing about the command chain of the other force. It didn't matter that such things were beneath her concern under normal circumstances. Nothing was normal anymore.
"What do you use funds for in Persis?" Sanaki stretched her feet to the edge of his cushion. "You're not allowed to have an army, so what do you use the extra gold on?"
"Upkeep." He reached for her ankle, untying her sandal straps. "Two years ago the irrigation channels in the southeast were flooded and destroyed. To repair them I purchased a larger labor force than we could have paid for, otherwise."
She let the sandal drop and prodded his knee with her toes while he untied the other one. "You used laguz."
"I paid them well."
"Hmm." She bent her arms over the back of the chair and stretched. Pale shadows turned on the plaster ceiling, shifting with the movement of the curtains. His thumbs pressed into the ball of her foot and Sanaki clenched her teeth. They'd cramp if he didn't work the knot out now, but-- "Do you think they would join the army, if they were paid a normal wage?"
Sephiran grabbed her ankle when she tried to pull her foot away. "Most laguz within our borders remember life before the Emancipation Act."
"No, in other words." They'd listened to Sephiran. They must be willing to acknowledge communication from the power in Begnion - perhaps if they were approached correctly, as equals.
"No one will sell property to a laguz. Most public establishments do not allow them to enter or share space with beorc. Why should they expect better treatment in the army?"
Because Sanaki wanted to think better of her people. Because Sephiran never taught her the ridiculous legends about tiger laguz stealing babies in the night to drink their blood, or hawks that stalked children who wandered too far from their parents, and she wanted to believe they were a joke whenever they were mentioned seriously in conversation. Did her subjects have no concept of the divide between fiction and reality? "I see your point."
If his secret were made public, what would become of him? He was popular; would public favor turn on him? Would they forget everything he'd done for Begnion as soon as he showed his wings?
"It will change." Sephiran's fingers stroked her ankle, tracing the bones that branched to her toes. "If history enslaved laguz, it will eventually raise them up again."
Sanaki wouldn't be alive long enough to wait for history to fix the problem for her. "I'm sure they find that point of view very comforting."
*
Though Sanaki was skeptical when she received the invitation, the evening of Amelia's party came as something of a blessing. Sephiran's papers on the transfer of power from the convicted senators were sent to be copied before he found out she'd shut the offices down for the weekend; he wasn't amused, couldn't believe she'd slipped that order by him, but she told him to look at the silver lining - now he had time to do her hair for the event, and yes, her style for the party was more important than the time he could have spent wringing his hands over matters out of his control at the present. So I've been reduced to your manservant, majesty? he said, still on bent knee and already dressed for the occasion, with an expression pathetic enough she had to respond with a yes. Then she smoothed the lines between his eyebrows. No one else will do.
She considered wearing it in a long braid the way it was arranged for her formal costume, but Sephiran had her sit at the dressing table before the large oval mirror, parted her hair, brushed it to a shine, and twisted it up at the back of her head. While she smoothed powder beneath her eyes and brushed a pale rouge onto her lips, he wrapped and coiled the rest of her hair up and secured it with heirloom pins. When he reflected the finished product to her with a hand mirror, it looked like a dozen tiny blue flowers were twisted into her hair.
"I wonder who wore these last?" She reached back, pushed one with a finger. "My grandmother?"
"I don't know," he said. "But they suit your color better than hers, I imagine."
He kept saying things like that. Did he mean them, or was he trying to make her feel better about her lack of talent?
Sanaki got up and walked behind the silk dressing screen. The indigo dress was laid out over the bench, the petticoats and corset hanging on the wall. "When should I let this headache get the better of me?"
"She'll arrange things according to your cues." She heard Sephiran sit on the bench, and the rustle of his coat when he pulled it off, folded it, and tossed it to her bed. "Wait until you've had a few dances, at least. Have a bit to drink. If they attribute the problem to alcohol, it can't hurt."
She shed her robe and pulled the petticoats from their hangers, nesting them together before she stepped in and pulled them up to her waist. It was a better idea in theory; she couldn't hold all three of them while she tied the first, and the outermost layer slithered almost to the floor while she tried. "I still think it's too obvious." She pulled it up again, pressed it between her leg and the bench so it couldn't fall all the way. "If Lekain or anybody else knows what you did with his wife, they'll see right through it. A rumor is a poor excuse."
"You weren't planning to dance with anyone else, I hope."
Sanaki paused in knotting the third layer and stared at the tiers of white ruffles flaring from her waist. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You underestimate the power of a popular story."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course." Etiquette required her to dance with Soren at least once if he attended, and he hadn't notified her of a change in plans. Other years she'd been approached at times by the senior senators, perhaps to show they enjoyed good relations, though it was almost never true. Lekain's wife hadn't attended even once. All Sanaki knew was that Lady Gaddos was young and reputedly uninterested in social events. It was an arranged marriage - it had to be, who would volunteer for such a disgrace? - and one apparently beneficial for him, and she knew nothing else.
The corset was tighter than she liked it; they didn't include it when she tried the dress on the first time. It hooked in the back, and she almost called Sephiran behind the screen to do it for her. Arms weren't supposed to twist back like that. The dress had to be pulled over her head. "I'll need you to lace this up for me."
There was a short silence. "You managed last time."
"It took ten minutes. That's ridiculous." She pulled the sleeves over her hands, shook the skirt out until it covered the ruffled petticoats, and pulled the bodice as tightly closed as it would allow without lacing. "Get back here. The cord is on the hook."
He didn't sigh, but his approach was slow, and Sanaki supposed asking him to help her dress was a bit much-- but he was present, while Sigrun was not. Was it such a horrible prospect? She buttoned her sleeves once his shadow darkened the wall and she felt him pull the back of her dress and slide the cord in. They were tiny navy buttons along the outer curve of her arm down over her hands, round and slippery, and the button holes were stitched tight.
"Will you need help out of this as well?" Sephiran asked when he tugged the laces and tied them.
"Probably. You'll do," Sanaki said, ignoring his immediate response about the impropriety of it. "We have a story to maintain-- isn't that right?"
The lengths she went to in order to appear well-dressed - the hair, a slim diamond choker, matching bracelets, the dress - were ridiculous when compared to her escort. Sephiran had barely changed at all; instead of wearing white he wore black, put on a dark blue coat tailored only slightly differently than his professional attire, and let his hair flow loose. Why couldn't she do that? Her dress and the layers of undergarments weighed as much as a suit of armor. A plain, slim dress would be more efficient, and she might even be able to walk without dragging twice her weight behind her in skirts.
The halls were empty of all but the requisite guard when they left her rooms. All the lamps were lit in their round crystal chambers, and the sky outside the windows was purple, nearing the black of night. Sigrun and Tanith met them in the antechamber with three other knights, and the rest of her guard, under Marcia's direction, waited on the second floor where there was more space for the bulk of their armor and weapons. They came to attention when she appeared on the stairs, striking their spears to the marble floor, lined up along the mezzanine balcony rail. All but five were present.
She so rarely saw the entire company in one place. Only the senior three appeared with her at formal events in the cathedral in ceremonial dress. The fell in line behind the others, snowy surcoats jingling and the purple pennants on their spears drifting with their passage.
"The prince gets one dance," she said softly when they descended the wide staircase into the palace foyer, leaning on Sephiran's arm. The front doors were open, and she saw Soren waiting outside with Ike in the flickering lamplight. Behind her was the sound of twenty pairs of leather boots, twenty spears, and the creak of her guard's formal armor, the clink of their gold decorations. "The rest are yours, and I had better not see you on the floor with Medina."
The prince turned at the sound of their approach, and Sephiran let go of her hand when they neared the doors. "I'd rather not be seen with her."
Soren wore white, hair tied back just below the line of his shoulders, another study in simplicity. His complexion looked like it had some color next to the pale fabric. The red lining beneath his collar made his eyes stand out. He greeted them with his customary bow, and Ike ignored the usual courtesies - also customary - and went directly to Marcia once she was named the commander of the knights in charge of protecting his prince.
Sanaki pulled Sephiran to the carriage, and for once Soren followed her lead rather than waiting for his companion. Ike wasn't going to come along, so why linger? She shrugged and looked out the window on her side of the cabin. If their situations were reversed she doubted Sephiran would let her leave his sight. There were times he'd annoyed her with his attention to her plans and his habit of sending people to follow her - and, often, to interrupt her meetings when they involved the opposite gender. It was all for her safety, yes, yes, of course it was.
He'd had the nerve to turn down her suggestion of marriage after all of that. She still couldn't believe it.
The ride to Amelia's city manor was short; the Leandros family was as old as Begnion itself, and their status was reflected in their proximity to the palace. The house and its outbuildings were two city blocks away, separated from the cathedral by the library and the university press. Every window was ablaze with light when they pulled up and Sanaki was helped out onto the flagstone drive. Amelia waited on the other side of the small greeting garden at the foot of the steps, gleaming in white, with two servants at her back. Her knights dismounted, all but five to follow her inside with the prince. A score of handlers approached from the left gate to care for their mounts; the others took to the sky.
The garden felt small and hot with twenty people crowded into the small space between beds of night-blooming jasmine and cereus, the scent of flowers a strong perfume. Sigrun strode to the front and spoke with Amelia, and Sanaki waited for her to slip into the house with a few of the others to make arrangements for the manor's security before she walked across the garden. It felt almost like she hadn't left the carriage yet, the air was so close, thick. Sephiran walked behind her to the right, and the prince to her left. She wanted to reach back for her minister's hand.
Amelia sank to one knee, and her cream-colored skirt slipped over the flagstones in a flare that caught the moonlight. "Your majesty, our home is honored by your presence." Her hands spread on the silk, skin the color of cinnamon contrasting sharply in the half-light. "If I can be of service at all during your stay, please have one of your retainers notify me at once."
Sanaki leaned over to rest her hand atop the other woman's dark hair, at once to bless and draw her attention upward. "We can start with forgetting about the grandiose formality. There won't be any lack of it from the others."
"They'll be falling all over themselves to assure you they have no connections with the senior senators and have supported laguz rights from the outset." She rose slowly. Sephiran's hand stopped Sanaki from reaching to help her. "All the while trying to quietly release what's left of their slave holdings in the provinces before Lord Sephiran can spare anyone to investigate them," Amelia said, clasping her hands at her waist. "It's good to see you, senator. And you, Prince Soren - it's a pleasure to meet you. Lady Medina had nothing but good things to say when I interrogated her."
Soren laughed under his breath, stirring the air and tickling Sanaki's shoulder when he murmured oh really. "The empress is full of praise for you, Lady Leandros. I hope we will have a chance to discuss the theme of your celebration later. I'm not familiar with the play."
"She would be the person to speak to then, your highness." Amelia's neutral smile widened and crinkled her dark eyes. "Sanaki spent quite a bit of time with this piece when I handled her history lessons."
Sanaki bit her lips closed and let Sephiran laugh. He was responsible for that miserable month of study - of course he thought it funny. "A witty choice. Really."
"Almost too coincidental," Sephiran said. A shadow of pegasus wings from above darkened the garden for a second and was gone. "A last-minute decision?"
"Will you believe me if I say no? The senate's declaration regarding the impending engagement was my inspiration." Amelia turned her attention back to Sanaki, running her fingers over the long tail of a braid resting on her shoulder. "The real question is-- which of your charming escorts will you dance the opening festivities with? You should enter with him, whomever you choose."
She stared at Amelia and heard the shift of Soren's coat behind her, the chain clasp of his high collar clinking. Who else? was on the tip of her tongue. She danced with Sephiran every year, except for the one he was stranded on the other side of the Ribahn, yet they had a guest - one they must treat with respect, as he was present according to her own invitation. The senate's invitation, really, but outside of Begnion there was no difference. There were, however, assumptions made about her relations with other countries based on how their dignitaries were treated, regardless of Sanaki's own involvement in their experience.
Sigrun's appearance at the door saved her from answering immediately. Her knight motioned for the others to go inside. "Everything is arranged," she said, coming even with their hostess and inclining her head to Sanaki. "If you want to visit the gardens, please notify us first. An escort will be necessary."
"Consider me out of the running," Soren said, stepping up beside Sanaki and looking at her. "I'd rather not be the center of attention when I dance."
Sanaki lifted an eyebrow, turning her head only slightly to look at him from the corner of her eye. "Something you're not good at?"
He sighed loudly, dramatically, and looked up. Another winged shadow cycled over the garden and darkened his pale face to gray for an instant. "Don't get used to it, your majesty."
They were led inside, Soren parting from her side to walk with Amelia, and Sanaki took Sephiran's arm again and walked ahead of them. She knew the way to the large chamber set aside for the ball; she'd learned to dance here, how to deliver a speech, and the basics of magic casting, all in that room. The double doors were wide enough, tall enough, to accommodate two pegasi side by side, and she thought it would be possible to bring one in and ride a tight circle around the perimeter, near the ceiling; plain white columns supported the arched shape of the roof, wound with branches of olive leaves in green glass, the veins and edges gilded or painted in silver. I wanted to use real olive, Amelia said softly, but the heat would wilt them before the end of the night-- and the smell, Sanaki knew, was not pleasant. Crystal lamps lined the walls and decorated the tables; two chandeliers hung far above her head, candles blazing steady and casting rainbows through their prism ornaments.
The crowded room was slow to quiet once they reached the door. The musicians were grouped on a stage against the far wall. Her appearance was met with the fragmented sounds of strings tuning, woodwinds, and the tap of the baton. She recognized a few faces in the crowd, and some by the style or color of their hair. Medina's golden head turned their way, and Sephiran looked resolutely in the other direction as if he hadn't noticed her.
Sanaki smiled when their hostess clapped her hands for silence and announced her party. Was she a seductress, really-- or was it just that he'd stopped trying to resist? She knew what the story would be if they were allowed to make their arrangement public. These people liked Sephiran; they cheered and clapped their welcome, parted to allow them passage to the wide area of floor marked for dancing, and dozens of eyes followed him, not her, when they passed.
What was the explanation they deluded themselves with regarding his age? Good breeding, perhaps? Magic? Spirit protection? He'd summoned several to protect her once, in full view of the public; his elementals were the ones to kill the men attempting to attack her when the knights were scattered by a wind blast. Their mage was skilled, but not as good as Sephiran.
No one was that good. Why hadn't she come to the same conclusion when she started to notice the details that set him apart?
They took the first dance alone, and left the floor when others joined to meet the prince and Amelia at the dais erected for her visit. Sanaki took the white-cushioned chair at the center and waved Sephiran off when their hostess asked him for a dance. Soren took the chair to her left. "This play," he said. "I read a copy at the Archives, but I'm not sure I understand its thematic significance."
Sanaki fingered the gold stitching on the arm of her chair and turned her eyes up to the misty silk arranged above the dais as a canopy. The green and white blur of Sigrun shifted against the wall to her right. "Altina chose to divide her power with a council of nobles after her first husband died. This is generally regarded as a bad decision by historians and critics."
The prince snorted. "So I've gathered. It's a protest against the senate - that's it? I've seen public criticism of senators in the past. I had no idea that was enough to have a playwright imprisoned."
"The author attacked claims of divine right for the senate and the Apostle." The stage was occupied by the symphony now, but Sanaki had no doubt they would be ushered off some time during the night to make room for a troupe of actors. She recognized the shape of the cathedral on the backdrop, though it was darkened, the lamps shielded and directed toward the performers. "This is not immediately apparent in the text, but there are certain passages - in Ashera's monologue at the beginning for example, and Dheginsea's later - and the writer was imprisoned on that basis."
A maid approached the dais and knelt on the top step to offer drink; her red eyes reminded Sanaki of Soren, though there was too much violet in them to give the same impression of blood or garnet. She took a glass, the prince declined.
"It still is not widely studied," Sanaki said once the servant withdrew. She turned her eyes to the golden liquid. It smelled like plums. "In fact, the ban on its publication was only recently lifted. They insisted I study it as a case against censorship. I'd just as soon never see it performed again."
"And the senior senators aren't here to protest." Soren breathed his quiet laugh, as if he were trying to hide it, and his eyes swept the ballroom, lingering on the winding glass vines and the shapes of the crystal lamps - like lilies. They were decorated with glass wreaths. "It's clear enough which of you she supports. I think you were right, your majesty - I would like to speak with her later if the opportunity presents itself."
Their conversation moved to other topics, and the prince seemed content to remain on the dais with her, though several guests came to greet them between dances. He attracted the lady of Marsilikos, her daughter, the Archivist's daughter Helene, and others Sanaki didn't bother to remember. He was almost as bad as Sephiran, the way he drew their attention; she likened them to flies swarming around honeycomb and he responded with his irritating smile. It was too bad he decided not to bring his retainer. Ike's frown would have driven them off.
He told her his mother instructed him in dance, but he'd never taken to it. Like melee fighting, it simply didn't interest him, and often tired him unreasonably. "My mother can dance for hours, if the mood moves her. Father doesn't care for the activity, so she came to me as soon as I was old enough. It's a shame I was never good enough to please her."
"She's your mother," Sanaki said. "I'm sure she doesn't mind terribly much."
"Maybe not." Soren shrugged against the back of his chair. "Tauroneo is better at it, and trustworthy. I ordered him to take my place as soon as I found out." He bowed his head, his smile a sarcastic curl. "If he hadn't offered to tutor me, I'd still be dancing with her in that empty ballroom."
Sanaki's rubbed her temple and set her glass on the floor. "It's a shame she didn't accompany you."
Soren looked at her. His expression smoothed. "Yes." His gaze moved across the crowd. The musicians stilled, the music faded beneath the echo of voices, and as a body they stood to move offstage. "She wanted to. I think she would enjoy a party like this."
As soon as the stage darkened Sanaki motioned her knight forward and told her she wanted a few moments of quiet. A headache was coming on, she said, and if anybody needed to see this play least, it was her. How many times was she forced to have it performed in the palace theater - two? Three? Sigrun smiled and moved away to make arrangements for her withdrawal. A headache, is it? the prince asked, watching her from the corner of his eye, and Sanaki narrowed her eyes. That's exactly what it is. Not a word.
The maid who served their wine led Sanaki out of the ballroom and upstairs to a guest bedroom with a promise of tea and a packet of herbs from the resident priest before she departed for one of the back staircases. Tanith checked the room; Sigrun waited in the hallway with her and led her inside when she heard the other knight's signal.
The room was slightly smaller than her own bedroom, the bed plain without posts or canopy, though the headboard was ornately carved and polished to a glassy shine. Sanaki sat on the edge, hands spread on the plain white quilt, and poked the folded hem of her skirt with her toes. The drapes were white, the floor pale wood covered with woven rugs in white and gray. She'd heard of snow-blindness, and felt rather like someone dazzled by too much light from too many surfaces. There was no music to drift up through the window; she heard snatches of loud voices, both female, and wondered if Amelia had the actors perform the play from the beginning, or start with one of the later scenes. She didn't remember the opening section being so strident.
After a few minutes of speech she couldn't quite hear, Sanaki swung her legs onto the bed and turned onto her stomach. She felt one of the others straighten her skirt, pull the crumpled parts from beneath her, heard them whisper to each other. One reached for her sandals. She pulled her ankle from the knight's grasp. "Not now. We won't be here that long."
"Your majesty, what--"
Sigrun was interrupted by a knock. Sanaki lifted her head from her arms. Her knight loosened her sword and approached the door; Tanith positioned herself behind her senior. Sigrun stood behind the door and opened it slowly, leaning to see out. But she paused mid-greeting, then pulled the door open. "Lord Sephiran. I'm sorry, we thought you were someone else." She let him slip inside, closed the door. "Though your presence will not help matters."
He laughed, short, and crossed the room to the bedside. A healing staff dangled from his left hand. The gold handle was too ornate to be one of Amelia's. "You're not usually so blunt, Sigrun." He looked over his shoulder. "I'll take that under advisement."
Sigrun crossed her arms. "Letting rumors fly without interference is bad enough--"
"They're meant to fly this time." Sephiran pulled his hair over his shoulder to sit. The knight frowned behind him, at his back, then looked away. He turned back to Sanaki, indicating the staff. "The prince said you looked ill when the play started."
"Because you made me read the script seven times." She pressed her forehead to her arms, sighing against the quilt. "That was uncalled for."
"You deceived the prince with that knowledge, didn't you?" She heard his smile when he responded, which meant he was trying not to laugh. The mattress dipped under his weight, and in the space beneath her arm she saw him rest the staff against the night table. "You're well, then." He pressed his fingers to her shoulders, letting up when she hunched and tried to shrug his hand away. "You'll have a real headache by the end of the night if you keep on like this."
Sanaki rolled her shoulders back. "If we were really here just to dance..."
"I'm sorry." Sephiran rubbed her shoulders more gently, thumbs working into a knot of tension at her neck. "The only real solution is to get it over with."
The trial, or the meeting? She pushed her face into the lavender-scented comforter. He ordered Tanith to wait outside, and Sanaki heard Sigrun move over to the window and pull the heavy curtain to look out. The steel boning sewn into her corset held her posture rigidly straight. Her court costume had lacing, but it wasn't so unyielding - just heavy, and hot, and this dress left her shoulders chilled and her legs sweltering. It hadn't mattered so much when she was sitting up.
She pushed up when the pressure of Sephiran's hands began to hurt and twisted into a sitting position, pulling her legs and the heavy layers of her skirt behind him and over the edge of the bed. We can loosen it, he said when he realized what her problem was, and Sanaki shook her head. Wouldn't it be awkward for their guest walked into the middle of that process? It would be for her, at the very least. She didn't want to be seen dressed down - literally or figuratively - in front of anyone with connections to that family. Sitting up makes it better, she told him. He prodded one of the steel ribs through the velvet bodice and lifted an eyebrow.
"You can try it on later and see for yourself."
Sephiran leaned away from her. "That-- won't be necessary."
Sanaki pulled his hand to her lap and stroked the back, smiling. "You might look good in--"
He pressed his other hand to her mouth. "No."
They were interrupted by another knock. Tanith leaned in to announce the maid with Sanaki's tea, and she beckoned for the knight to let her in. The same girl entered, her dark hair now loose and spread over her back, and she held a small round tray with a teapot and porcelain cup clinking at the center. She slid the tray onto the night table and they shook, rattling against each other until she let go. The door closed.
"Lady Gaddos," Sephiran said. Sanaki's eyes snapped to him, followed his gaze to the girl's face. "Please make your greetings."
The maid - Lekain's wife - backed quickly away and fell to her knees. The black livery skirt spread around her, the hem trimmed in with Leandros colors: blue, dark and sky, and a thin band of red. She lowered her head. Black hair slipped over her hunched shoulders. "Your majesty. I apologize for neglecting to greet you properly at the party."
Sanaki watched the other girl's fingers tremble. They were nearly the same age. "Under the circumstances, your conduct is excusable. Don't dwell on it."
"Her name is Astrid," Sephiran said softly, sliding his gaze sideways and looking at her through his lashes. "Formerly of the Damiell family, and one of their best archers until her marriage to Lekain." His gaze turned to their guest. "We have questions, if you're willing to speak. Eyes forward."
Astrid lifted her gaze, looking at him, then at Sanaki. She looked so pale; a red line was bitten into her bottom lip, her pallor was white, almost gray. There were no shadows beneath the woman's eyes, but they had the glassy look of nights without sleep. "If I can be of service--" Astrid took a deep breath and cast her gaze downward. "He did not confide in me, and I did not involve myself in his projects. If I can answer your questions I will."
Sanaki had sworn she wouldn't touch anything given from this woman's hand, and she'd sipped that plum wine for the better part of an hour at the party. Her mouth wanted to pucker, but she kept her lips firmly pressed together. "You'll be kept safe, of course," she said. The girl's eyes flinched away from her expression. "Openings can be arranged here or in Persis, according to your preference. Crimea may also be an option."
"That is--" Sephiran rested his hand on Sanaki's. "If you prove honest. We cannot make any assumptions, even regarding those we think we know."
Astrid's eyes lingered on their hands. "I should have left when the announcement was first made." She bowed her head, frowning. Her brows knitted. "You were right. He does not let go of anything he owns, from his wife to the silver candlesticks-- even his slave holdings. He is merely better at hiding it."
His grip tightened, cramping Sanaki's knuckles together. "Where are they?"
"The mines near the desert," Lady Gaddos said. "Fifty were contracted to Daein and have not returned."
"Why didn't you notify me immediately?"
"I was not allowed to leave without him. His chamberlain wrote my correspondence for me."
Sanaki squeezed back to relieve the pressure of his grip. "The contract." She didn't want to hear any more. The household slaves would have been enough to merit execution. The woman looked up, blinking her crimson eyes, and the air felt thick, tasted unpleasant - like candle wax and lamp oil. "Lekain holds a blood contract. Where is it?"
Her minister's shoulder lifted in a shrug when Astrid's gaze moved to him. "I--" She licked her lips. "I didn't know of any contracts--"
"Yes, you said he didn't confide in you, but--"
"Can you guess?" Sephiran's grip tightened again. His nails bit into the side of her hand. "You're more familiar with his habits than we are. Where does he keep his most important documents?"
A line formed between the woman's brows, and Sanaki looked at a point above her head. The pact was the point of this meeting, wasn't it? And she didn't know - it was clear by the way she chewed her lip, the way her fingers clenched in her skirt, the hunch of her shoulders. She had no idea where the pact was. Sanaki supposed they were lucky Astrid wasn't one of Lekain's confidants, or they wouldn't have the information they did-- and yet, if she were, they wouldn't have to listen to her pathetic story.
Disgusting. Sanaki would slit her own wrists before marrying Lekain. It looked like his wife felt the same.
"If he created such a thing..." Astrid's lips compressed, like she'd tasted something bitter. "He would keep it on his person, most likely. There are pockets sewn into his coats and robes. I don't know what kind or which ones, but they're well-hidden. I saw him pull a-- an artifact of some kind from such a hiding place once."
Sanaki sighed, bowed her head, and let Sephiran handle the rest of the questions. The senators were searched before their imprisonment. Their quarters were searched, their mansions in the city, their provincial holdings. It was possible they'd missed something when rifling through the senators' belongings, but there were only so many places to hide documents and conspicuous objects on one's person. Was there someone else Lekain trusted? Did he have a safe or a secret cubbyhole somewhere?
Perhaps one or more of their people had been compromised. That was not out of the question.
Lady Gaddos left when Sephiran was finished with his interrogation, and Sanaki leaned back, dropped onto the mattress. He looked back at her, but she traced the molding on the ceiling with her eyes, carefully following each curl of plaster vine, and felt the flower pins bite into her head. The strident speeches had stopped, or perhaps Astrid's voice was still a noise in her ears, drowning the sounds of the party that reached the window and crept between the frame and the glass.
She should have let Sephiran handle this meeting by himself. Her gaze shifted back to him. "You told her to run?" He raised his eyebrows, and Sanaki sat up on her elbows. "She said you told her to leave when their marriage was arranged."
"Oh." He turned his face away. Lamplight gilded his profile and danced on his hair when he moved his head. "They offered her to me first, and when I declined, she went to Lekain." His fingers worked a fold creased over his knee, a stray strand of hair caught on his cuffs. "I tried to help her travel out of their reach, but she hesitated too long."
How horrible. Sanaki wanted to ask why she didn't simply go - what was there to hesitate about? The fate of Begnion wasn't resting on the shoulders of a single noble's daughter. If she had entered the armed service, applied for the pegasus knights or the knighthood, wouldn't she be better off? What good was skill in archery if it wasn't used? Her family was insane if they thought leaving her to sit in a manor in Gaddos would bring them more glory than an accomplished knight or a member of the Imperial household guard.
Their situations couldn't be more different. She wouldn't wait for the houses to settle her marriage for her. Never. They were already well on their way to overturning the call for a match.
"We should go back downstairs," Sephiran said quietly.
Sanaki allowed him to help her up and straighten her hair. She would find a way to help Astrid because Sephiran wanted to - because they weren't the same, but they could have been under slightly different circumstances. What if she hadn't pursued his secrets, forced him to confess?
She wanted to keep an eye on Lady Gaddos. It didn't matter how tired or ill she looked; Sanaki wouldn't believe her completely uninvolved until Lekain was buried in the dungeon with Culbert and all of their willing accomplices.
*
The play was nearly over when they returned to the ballroom. Sanaki danced with the prince, with Sephiran, and spoke with the guild head leading the actors to assure him she was not offended by their performance-- illness simply forced her to withdraw, and goddess willing, she would commission his group some other time. He wrung his hands together the whole time they talked. How did he maintain an acting guild with such weak nerves?
At midnight they closed the festivities with the last dance, and Sanaki tried to say her goodbyes as quickly as possible. Most did not have the nerve to approach her directly with Tanith frowning at her side, but her minister had more trouble extracting himself from grasping hands - probably Medina's, but who knew? all she saw was golden hair. She slumped into the corner of the small carriage when they finally got out, wished the ride back was longer so her feet would have time to stop hurting before it was time to climb four flights of stairs to her rooms. Sephiran and the prince spoke briefly about the play over the crunch and turn of the wheels over the tiled streets, the hollow sound of hooves, and when she listened carefully, her ear to the window, she heard the beat of wings above them and the call of the knights in flight to Sigrun, signaling their retreat when they arrived at the palace gate.
Ike was waiting for them in the foyer with his elbow propped on the spiraling end of the stair rail. He straightened as soon as he saw Soren, and they parted company to take another route to the guest wing - through the gardens perhaps, past the koi ponds, a long route during which they might talk. The prince leaned heavily on his escort's arm when they walked away.
If her guard hadn't come out in force to protect her, Sanaki would have sent someone after them to listen. Ike might be vigilant, but he couldn't hear and see everything; if ever there were a time Soren's tongue would be loosened, it was then.
Even if Kilvas were there, she didn't think he could be trusted to report exactly what was said. They didn't yet have confirmation the pact was still in Lekain's hands. And if it was - what if he had the power to modify it? Sephiran had said nothing about that. Did he even know the answer?
Sanaki started to pull the pins from her hair as soon as they reached her rooms and Sigrun closed the door behind them. His hand stopped her - your hair will get in the way - and she let him draw her into the bedroom, position her in front of the dressing table so she could remove her jewelry, and pull her laces out. "What is Queen Daein like?"
Sephiran looked at her a moment in the mirror, hands pausing. "To call her that is somewhat inaccurate." The slither of silk resumed. "Ashnard didn't ever formally bestow that honor upon his wife. I've heard she lives apart from most of the court."
She worked the bracelet over her hand, dropped it into the open jewelry box. Rings and gold chains glittered on the red lining. "Why does Goldoa let such an insult stand?"
His laugh was more a sigh. "Goldoa does not dabble in the affairs of Tellius." He unhooked the corset at her insistence and turned her by the shoulders to the dressing screen when it loosened. "She is no longer an acknowledged member of the family."
Sanaki held the dress to her chest until the silk screen shielded her. "He dances well."
There was a pause. "Does he really."
She smiled. The dress dragged her petticoats down when she let go of it. She left the corset spread on the bench. "He said his mother made him dance with her for years. I thought maybe Ashnard just didn't like to waste time on balls."
His response was lost in the rustle of the cotton and tulle layers she pushed down over her hips, but it sounded like that's probably true. They pooled on the floor, frothy like sea foam. "Why do you think he stepped aside for you?" She pulled the chemise over her head, wrapped herself into a robe. "He must be aware of his own capabilities."
"I've wondered myself," Sephiran said. He turned her around when she joined him on the other side of the screen to pull the pins from her hair and uncoil the length. "He deflected Medina's attention when I left to find you. I was under the impression he didn't like her."
Sanaki rubbed her head once her hair was loose and hanging down her back. The room was too warm, but the night outside wasn't much cooler. They wouldn't want her to open the windows; that was like an invitation, her knights said, unless someone was stationed outside to guard that entry point. "I think I know who he does like." She unclasped his coat, slapping his hands away when he tried to stop her. "You're uncomfortable," she said, digging her fingers under his collar. The skin was moist. She lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not done talking."
He stopped interfering and shrugged out of his coat when she finished. "Is this information you have useful?"
"Probably not." He shook his head, and Sanaki threw his coat over to the dressing bench. It missed and folded onto the floor, and she pulled him away from the temptation to pick it up, sitting him down beside her on the edge of her bed. "But it isn't me, and that's all I really care about."
"Who is it?"
"His retainer." He blinked, drawing back, and Sanaki reached for the collar of his shirt. "It's the way the prince leans on him. The way they talk when he thinks nobody is watching." The first came loose, the second. "He does not initiate so much contact with anybody else."
"But--" His laugh was incredulous. "Even if you're right, his father--"
"Is healthy and strong. Right?" She loosened the third, the fourth.
"T-that doesn't matter. He--" Sephiran snatched her hand away.
Heat rushed to Sanaki's face. She pressed her lips closed, reached for the last button with her other hand, and he grabbed it. "Yes?" He opened his mouth as if to reply, looking away, and she laughed when it seemed he was at a loss for words. "I can't believe you fell for that--"
Sephiran pushed her back onto the bed and Sanaki yelped when she hit the mattress. He let go of her hands, holding her to the quilt by the shoulders. His hair slipped over his shoulders when he leaned over, an inky veil around her head. "To think this isn't even the first time--" He wedged his knee between her legs. "I've raised a seductress."
She tried not to laugh again, biting her lip. Her face still felt unbearably hot. "You can't help it." There was nothing to look at when she averted her gaze, only the last button that she reached down to pull free. "But you know when you've lost a game, don't you?"
He laughed softly, let her push the shirt from his shoulders, pulling his arms from the sleeves obediently when she scrunched them down past his elbows. "Yes."
His skin was softer than it should be - softer than hers. Sanaki traced his clavicle, watched the skin pale around the pressure of her finger. He pulled her sash loose and peeled the layer of her robe away, pressing his thumb into her skin, around the underside of her breast. "You'll stay, won't you?"
The color in his eyes bled to darkness, his gaze almost black. "Yes."
.............................................................
HAVE I CONVERTED YOU? COME ON SAY YES SAY YES--
I tried not to dwell too much on useless detail. Didn't help with the word count.
Poor Astrid.
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: January 13 - a thinking woman sleeps with monsters
Series: Fire Emblem 10
Character/Pairing: Sanaki, Sephiran, Soren, others
Rating: T
Words: 9033
Warnings: so not gen. My conscience will prick me if I don't add that pairing tag just this once.
Notes: AU, part twelve of the Summer Chronicle. This is a first and ongoing draft; a list of known issues is being compiled here.
I started this fairly early, and finishing it took me all the way up to the last minute. I apologize for any clumsy or abrupt scene endings, and will try to fix those once the deadline is made.
I, er, also apologize for the length. :D
.............................................
By the closing of the trial on the second afternoon, Sanaki had decided she'd heard enough about Culbert to last two lifetimes. How the man managed to be so irritating simply by sitting in once place and answering 'yes' or 'no' when Sephiran directed questions to him was a mystery worthy of Ashera. Too bad Sanaki didn't have the ability to hear the goddess's answers.
Her office was hardly more comfortable than the audience chamber, though it was better ventilated. After shedding the heavy velvet to allow the breeze to cool her skin, she still felt moist and overheated. It was like having a fever.
"They're cowards - the whole lot of them. One more session--"
Sanaki turned to the second page of a petition for Valtome's cause, skimming the cramped handwriting and the notes Sephiran wrote in the margins with red ink, noting articles of the law or provincial policy to contradict the writer's assumptions. It seemed he didn't care about the man's release, as long as Culbert retained the power to pass the estate to his nephew, who seemed less a good choice the more she heard about him. He had the nerve to resubmit his proposal after her refusal with the assurance he didn't 'hold with his uncle's political ideals.' If he thought that was the only problem, he wasn't smart enough to survive in his uncle's position.
"How long do they think a discussion about the transfer of power will last? Waiting won't change the outcome."
"They might be honestly concerned." She leaned on the arm of her chair and pushed the edge of the paper with her nail. It bowed against her writing box and slid back to her. "I don't think there's precedent for firing the entire senior council, is there? If you'd just write that proposal so we can have it copied and sent out--"
"The copying will take us into next week." Sephiran compressed his lips into a slight frown and turned his face abruptly away to look at the window. "In that time we can argue them down during the meeting."
By that time, she thought his temper might snap - possibly even in public. And Lekain was still imprisoned, awaiting trial, the perfect provocation. "Go sit down. Over there," she pointed to the cushioned chairs by the window when his narrow gaze moved back to her, pushing her chair back to stand up. Her skirt stuck to the back of her legs. She yanked it straight. "I'm tired of looking at this."
Sanaki walked to the door once he'd chosen a seat and cracked it open enough to beckon Marcia. Did she have her orders? Yes - the document was tucked behind the knight's belt. Did she have a replacement arranged to take over her post? Yes. Sanaki sent her off, closed the door, smiled in answer to the inquisitive lift of Sephiran's eyebrow. The curtains billowed in with the scent of warm leaves and wet lawn, leaving the scent of roses behind. She approached his chair with her hands linked behind her back.
His eyes flicked to her waist, then back up. "Any orders you want to hide from me--"
"--are not your concern. They have nothing to do with you." She reached back to pick pins from her hair until the pull loosened and she couldn't feel any bits of metal biting into her scalp. The roll of her hair unwound over her back. "I'm tired of hearing about the senate, Sephiran. You aren't going to speak of them until after Amelia's party. I'll throw you out if I so much as hear the word."
The angle of his brows dipped, annoyed. "How are we supposed to discuss business without them?"
"We'll have to ignore work altogether," Sanaki said. She leaned over him to drop the pins on the windowsill. They tinkled together, glittering. "Not a terrible burden, I hope?"
"Sanaki--"
"Sephiran." She pressed her fingers to his mouth, gathering her skirt with the other hand. "Shut up." He opened his mouth as soon as she pulled her hand away and she grabbed his shoulder, murmured no, and kissed him before he could complain. If she'd only dared to try two months ago, or three, she could have avoided reading all of those marriage proposals, convinced him to make his own-- she could have told Prince Daein to stay in his snow-bound country. Sephiran's hands hooked into the folds of her skirt, helped her onto his lap. He tasted like tea, the slide of his lips soft, his cheeks warm under her hands as if he suffered from the same fever that made Sanaki so tired when they came in. "If this is the only way you'll be persuaded to calm down, I'll live up to all of those stories."
His gaze strayed to her lips, his fingers working in the folds of silk twisted around her thighs. "I don't mind."
Heat crept into her ears. Sanaki wished she'd taken his advice and gone to her rooms after court. They were less likely to be interrupted there, unless Marcia decided to run all the way to the offices. "Are you doing this on purpose?"
Sephiran looked up. "It was a lucky accident." He pressed his nose to her throat, his lips to the arch of her collarbone. "I won't complain."
When Tanith knocked and came in to announce Kilvas she took the surprise rather well, and only stared for a few seconds before she snapped back to attention. Well at least you're decisive, she said, tone dry, and rolled her eyes when Sephiran said I would never refuse my empress's demands. If Sanaki had been standing, she would have kicked him.
Nothing's happening, the raven king told her when he was allowed inside, Sanaki once again sitting behind her desk and Sephiran still by the window, leaning on the arm toward the breeze. Gaddos troops were marching obediently to the border with Daein on her command, and a portion of Seliora's men were marching to Mugil. He offered to scout the Crimean border, but she dismissed him once he'd finished his report on the army and returned to the chairs by the window to breathe deeply of the fresh air.
Sanaki couldn't decide if she was glad the provincial armies were taking imperial orders without issue or suspicious of their easy compliance. They should be obedient. She allowed the nobles to maintain forces apart from the central army because it eased the strain on government resources and gave the dukes something useful to spend their money on. Their commanders should owe their first loyalties to the crown.
She'd heard the general in charge of Lekain's forces was loyal - so said General Zelgius, and Sephiran believed him - but she knew nothing about the command chain of the other force. It didn't matter that such things were beneath her concern under normal circumstances. Nothing was normal anymore.
"What do you use funds for in Persis?" Sanaki stretched her feet to the edge of his cushion. "You're not allowed to have an army, so what do you use the extra gold on?"
"Upkeep." He reached for her ankle, untying her sandal straps. "Two years ago the irrigation channels in the southeast were flooded and destroyed. To repair them I purchased a larger labor force than we could have paid for, otherwise."
She let the sandal drop and prodded his knee with her toes while he untied the other one. "You used laguz."
"I paid them well."
"Hmm." She bent her arms over the back of the chair and stretched. Pale shadows turned on the plaster ceiling, shifting with the movement of the curtains. His thumbs pressed into the ball of her foot and Sanaki clenched her teeth. They'd cramp if he didn't work the knot out now, but-- "Do you think they would join the army, if they were paid a normal wage?"
Sephiran grabbed her ankle when she tried to pull her foot away. "Most laguz within our borders remember life before the Emancipation Act."
"No, in other words." They'd listened to Sephiran. They must be willing to acknowledge communication from the power in Begnion - perhaps if they were approached correctly, as equals.
"No one will sell property to a laguz. Most public establishments do not allow them to enter or share space with beorc. Why should they expect better treatment in the army?"
Because Sanaki wanted to think better of her people. Because Sephiran never taught her the ridiculous legends about tiger laguz stealing babies in the night to drink their blood, or hawks that stalked children who wandered too far from their parents, and she wanted to believe they were a joke whenever they were mentioned seriously in conversation. Did her subjects have no concept of the divide between fiction and reality? "I see your point."
If his secret were made public, what would become of him? He was popular; would public favor turn on him? Would they forget everything he'd done for Begnion as soon as he showed his wings?
"It will change." Sephiran's fingers stroked her ankle, tracing the bones that branched to her toes. "If history enslaved laguz, it will eventually raise them up again."
Sanaki wouldn't be alive long enough to wait for history to fix the problem for her. "I'm sure they find that point of view very comforting."
*
Though Sanaki was skeptical when she received the invitation, the evening of Amelia's party came as something of a blessing. Sephiran's papers on the transfer of power from the convicted senators were sent to be copied before he found out she'd shut the offices down for the weekend; he wasn't amused, couldn't believe she'd slipped that order by him, but she told him to look at the silver lining - now he had time to do her hair for the event, and yes, her style for the party was more important than the time he could have spent wringing his hands over matters out of his control at the present. So I've been reduced to your manservant, majesty? he said, still on bent knee and already dressed for the occasion, with an expression pathetic enough she had to respond with a yes. Then she smoothed the lines between his eyebrows. No one else will do.
She considered wearing it in a long braid the way it was arranged for her formal costume, but Sephiran had her sit at the dressing table before the large oval mirror, parted her hair, brushed it to a shine, and twisted it up at the back of her head. While she smoothed powder beneath her eyes and brushed a pale rouge onto her lips, he wrapped and coiled the rest of her hair up and secured it with heirloom pins. When he reflected the finished product to her with a hand mirror, it looked like a dozen tiny blue flowers were twisted into her hair.
"I wonder who wore these last?" She reached back, pushed one with a finger. "My grandmother?"
"I don't know," he said. "But they suit your color better than hers, I imagine."
He kept saying things like that. Did he mean them, or was he trying to make her feel better about her lack of talent?
Sanaki got up and walked behind the silk dressing screen. The indigo dress was laid out over the bench, the petticoats and corset hanging on the wall. "When should I let this headache get the better of me?"
"She'll arrange things according to your cues." She heard Sephiran sit on the bench, and the rustle of his coat when he pulled it off, folded it, and tossed it to her bed. "Wait until you've had a few dances, at least. Have a bit to drink. If they attribute the problem to alcohol, it can't hurt."
She shed her robe and pulled the petticoats from their hangers, nesting them together before she stepped in and pulled them up to her waist. It was a better idea in theory; she couldn't hold all three of them while she tied the first, and the outermost layer slithered almost to the floor while she tried. "I still think it's too obvious." She pulled it up again, pressed it between her leg and the bench so it couldn't fall all the way. "If Lekain or anybody else knows what you did with his wife, they'll see right through it. A rumor is a poor excuse."
"You weren't planning to dance with anyone else, I hope."
Sanaki paused in knotting the third layer and stared at the tiers of white ruffles flaring from her waist. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You underestimate the power of a popular story."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course." Etiquette required her to dance with Soren at least once if he attended, and he hadn't notified her of a change in plans. Other years she'd been approached at times by the senior senators, perhaps to show they enjoyed good relations, though it was almost never true. Lekain's wife hadn't attended even once. All Sanaki knew was that Lady Gaddos was young and reputedly uninterested in social events. It was an arranged marriage - it had to be, who would volunteer for such a disgrace? - and one apparently beneficial for him, and she knew nothing else.
The corset was tighter than she liked it; they didn't include it when she tried the dress on the first time. It hooked in the back, and she almost called Sephiran behind the screen to do it for her. Arms weren't supposed to twist back like that. The dress had to be pulled over her head. "I'll need you to lace this up for me."
There was a short silence. "You managed last time."
"It took ten minutes. That's ridiculous." She pulled the sleeves over her hands, shook the skirt out until it covered the ruffled petticoats, and pulled the bodice as tightly closed as it would allow without lacing. "Get back here. The cord is on the hook."
He didn't sigh, but his approach was slow, and Sanaki supposed asking him to help her dress was a bit much-- but he was present, while Sigrun was not. Was it such a horrible prospect? She buttoned her sleeves once his shadow darkened the wall and she felt him pull the back of her dress and slide the cord in. They were tiny navy buttons along the outer curve of her arm down over her hands, round and slippery, and the button holes were stitched tight.
"Will you need help out of this as well?" Sephiran asked when he tugged the laces and tied them.
"Probably. You'll do," Sanaki said, ignoring his immediate response about the impropriety of it. "We have a story to maintain-- isn't that right?"
The lengths she went to in order to appear well-dressed - the hair, a slim diamond choker, matching bracelets, the dress - were ridiculous when compared to her escort. Sephiran had barely changed at all; instead of wearing white he wore black, put on a dark blue coat tailored only slightly differently than his professional attire, and let his hair flow loose. Why couldn't she do that? Her dress and the layers of undergarments weighed as much as a suit of armor. A plain, slim dress would be more efficient, and she might even be able to walk without dragging twice her weight behind her in skirts.
The halls were empty of all but the requisite guard when they left her rooms. All the lamps were lit in their round crystal chambers, and the sky outside the windows was purple, nearing the black of night. Sigrun and Tanith met them in the antechamber with three other knights, and the rest of her guard, under Marcia's direction, waited on the second floor where there was more space for the bulk of their armor and weapons. They came to attention when she appeared on the stairs, striking their spears to the marble floor, lined up along the mezzanine balcony rail. All but five were present.
She so rarely saw the entire company in one place. Only the senior three appeared with her at formal events in the cathedral in ceremonial dress. The fell in line behind the others, snowy surcoats jingling and the purple pennants on their spears drifting with their passage.
"The prince gets one dance," she said softly when they descended the wide staircase into the palace foyer, leaning on Sephiran's arm. The front doors were open, and she saw Soren waiting outside with Ike in the flickering lamplight. Behind her was the sound of twenty pairs of leather boots, twenty spears, and the creak of her guard's formal armor, the clink of their gold decorations. "The rest are yours, and I had better not see you on the floor with Medina."
The prince turned at the sound of their approach, and Sephiran let go of her hand when they neared the doors. "I'd rather not be seen with her."
Soren wore white, hair tied back just below the line of his shoulders, another study in simplicity. His complexion looked like it had some color next to the pale fabric. The red lining beneath his collar made his eyes stand out. He greeted them with his customary bow, and Ike ignored the usual courtesies - also customary - and went directly to Marcia once she was named the commander of the knights in charge of protecting his prince.
Sanaki pulled Sephiran to the carriage, and for once Soren followed her lead rather than waiting for his companion. Ike wasn't going to come along, so why linger? She shrugged and looked out the window on her side of the cabin. If their situations were reversed she doubted Sephiran would let her leave his sight. There were times he'd annoyed her with his attention to her plans and his habit of sending people to follow her - and, often, to interrupt her meetings when they involved the opposite gender. It was all for her safety, yes, yes, of course it was.
He'd had the nerve to turn down her suggestion of marriage after all of that. She still couldn't believe it.
The ride to Amelia's city manor was short; the Leandros family was as old as Begnion itself, and their status was reflected in their proximity to the palace. The house and its outbuildings were two city blocks away, separated from the cathedral by the library and the university press. Every window was ablaze with light when they pulled up and Sanaki was helped out onto the flagstone drive. Amelia waited on the other side of the small greeting garden at the foot of the steps, gleaming in white, with two servants at her back. Her knights dismounted, all but five to follow her inside with the prince. A score of handlers approached from the left gate to care for their mounts; the others took to the sky.
The garden felt small and hot with twenty people crowded into the small space between beds of night-blooming jasmine and cereus, the scent of flowers a strong perfume. Sigrun strode to the front and spoke with Amelia, and Sanaki waited for her to slip into the house with a few of the others to make arrangements for the manor's security before she walked across the garden. It felt almost like she hadn't left the carriage yet, the air was so close, thick. Sephiran walked behind her to the right, and the prince to her left. She wanted to reach back for her minister's hand.
Amelia sank to one knee, and her cream-colored skirt slipped over the flagstones in a flare that caught the moonlight. "Your majesty, our home is honored by your presence." Her hands spread on the silk, skin the color of cinnamon contrasting sharply in the half-light. "If I can be of service at all during your stay, please have one of your retainers notify me at once."
Sanaki leaned over to rest her hand atop the other woman's dark hair, at once to bless and draw her attention upward. "We can start with forgetting about the grandiose formality. There won't be any lack of it from the others."
"They'll be falling all over themselves to assure you they have no connections with the senior senators and have supported laguz rights from the outset." She rose slowly. Sephiran's hand stopped Sanaki from reaching to help her. "All the while trying to quietly release what's left of their slave holdings in the provinces before Lord Sephiran can spare anyone to investigate them," Amelia said, clasping her hands at her waist. "It's good to see you, senator. And you, Prince Soren - it's a pleasure to meet you. Lady Medina had nothing but good things to say when I interrogated her."
Soren laughed under his breath, stirring the air and tickling Sanaki's shoulder when he murmured oh really. "The empress is full of praise for you, Lady Leandros. I hope we will have a chance to discuss the theme of your celebration later. I'm not familiar with the play."
"She would be the person to speak to then, your highness." Amelia's neutral smile widened and crinkled her dark eyes. "Sanaki spent quite a bit of time with this piece when I handled her history lessons."
Sanaki bit her lips closed and let Sephiran laugh. He was responsible for that miserable month of study - of course he thought it funny. "A witty choice. Really."
"Almost too coincidental," Sephiran said. A shadow of pegasus wings from above darkened the garden for a second and was gone. "A last-minute decision?"
"Will you believe me if I say no? The senate's declaration regarding the impending engagement was my inspiration." Amelia turned her attention back to Sanaki, running her fingers over the long tail of a braid resting on her shoulder. "The real question is-- which of your charming escorts will you dance the opening festivities with? You should enter with him, whomever you choose."
She stared at Amelia and heard the shift of Soren's coat behind her, the chain clasp of his high collar clinking. Who else? was on the tip of her tongue. She danced with Sephiran every year, except for the one he was stranded on the other side of the Ribahn, yet they had a guest - one they must treat with respect, as he was present according to her own invitation. The senate's invitation, really, but outside of Begnion there was no difference. There were, however, assumptions made about her relations with other countries based on how their dignitaries were treated, regardless of Sanaki's own involvement in their experience.
Sigrun's appearance at the door saved her from answering immediately. Her knight motioned for the others to go inside. "Everything is arranged," she said, coming even with their hostess and inclining her head to Sanaki. "If you want to visit the gardens, please notify us first. An escort will be necessary."
"Consider me out of the running," Soren said, stepping up beside Sanaki and looking at her. "I'd rather not be the center of attention when I dance."
Sanaki lifted an eyebrow, turning her head only slightly to look at him from the corner of her eye. "Something you're not good at?"
He sighed loudly, dramatically, and looked up. Another winged shadow cycled over the garden and darkened his pale face to gray for an instant. "Don't get used to it, your majesty."
They were led inside, Soren parting from her side to walk with Amelia, and Sanaki took Sephiran's arm again and walked ahead of them. She knew the way to the large chamber set aside for the ball; she'd learned to dance here, how to deliver a speech, and the basics of magic casting, all in that room. The double doors were wide enough, tall enough, to accommodate two pegasi side by side, and she thought it would be possible to bring one in and ride a tight circle around the perimeter, near the ceiling; plain white columns supported the arched shape of the roof, wound with branches of olive leaves in green glass, the veins and edges gilded or painted in silver. I wanted to use real olive, Amelia said softly, but the heat would wilt them before the end of the night-- and the smell, Sanaki knew, was not pleasant. Crystal lamps lined the walls and decorated the tables; two chandeliers hung far above her head, candles blazing steady and casting rainbows through their prism ornaments.
The crowded room was slow to quiet once they reached the door. The musicians were grouped on a stage against the far wall. Her appearance was met with the fragmented sounds of strings tuning, woodwinds, and the tap of the baton. She recognized a few faces in the crowd, and some by the style or color of their hair. Medina's golden head turned their way, and Sephiran looked resolutely in the other direction as if he hadn't noticed her.
Sanaki smiled when their hostess clapped her hands for silence and announced her party. Was she a seductress, really-- or was it just that he'd stopped trying to resist? She knew what the story would be if they were allowed to make their arrangement public. These people liked Sephiran; they cheered and clapped their welcome, parted to allow them passage to the wide area of floor marked for dancing, and dozens of eyes followed him, not her, when they passed.
What was the explanation they deluded themselves with regarding his age? Good breeding, perhaps? Magic? Spirit protection? He'd summoned several to protect her once, in full view of the public; his elementals were the ones to kill the men attempting to attack her when the knights were scattered by a wind blast. Their mage was skilled, but not as good as Sephiran.
No one was that good. Why hadn't she come to the same conclusion when she started to notice the details that set him apart?
They took the first dance alone, and left the floor when others joined to meet the prince and Amelia at the dais erected for her visit. Sanaki took the white-cushioned chair at the center and waved Sephiran off when their hostess asked him for a dance. Soren took the chair to her left. "This play," he said. "I read a copy at the Archives, but I'm not sure I understand its thematic significance."
Sanaki fingered the gold stitching on the arm of her chair and turned her eyes up to the misty silk arranged above the dais as a canopy. The green and white blur of Sigrun shifted against the wall to her right. "Altina chose to divide her power with a council of nobles after her first husband died. This is generally regarded as a bad decision by historians and critics."
The prince snorted. "So I've gathered. It's a protest against the senate - that's it? I've seen public criticism of senators in the past. I had no idea that was enough to have a playwright imprisoned."
"The author attacked claims of divine right for the senate and the Apostle." The stage was occupied by the symphony now, but Sanaki had no doubt they would be ushered off some time during the night to make room for a troupe of actors. She recognized the shape of the cathedral on the backdrop, though it was darkened, the lamps shielded and directed toward the performers. "This is not immediately apparent in the text, but there are certain passages - in Ashera's monologue at the beginning for example, and Dheginsea's later - and the writer was imprisoned on that basis."
A maid approached the dais and knelt on the top step to offer drink; her red eyes reminded Sanaki of Soren, though there was too much violet in them to give the same impression of blood or garnet. She took a glass, the prince declined.
"It still is not widely studied," Sanaki said once the servant withdrew. She turned her eyes to the golden liquid. It smelled like plums. "In fact, the ban on its publication was only recently lifted. They insisted I study it as a case against censorship. I'd just as soon never see it performed again."
"And the senior senators aren't here to protest." Soren breathed his quiet laugh, as if he were trying to hide it, and his eyes swept the ballroom, lingering on the winding glass vines and the shapes of the crystal lamps - like lilies. They were decorated with glass wreaths. "It's clear enough which of you she supports. I think you were right, your majesty - I would like to speak with her later if the opportunity presents itself."
Their conversation moved to other topics, and the prince seemed content to remain on the dais with her, though several guests came to greet them between dances. He attracted the lady of Marsilikos, her daughter, the Archivist's daughter Helene, and others Sanaki didn't bother to remember. He was almost as bad as Sephiran, the way he drew their attention; she likened them to flies swarming around honeycomb and he responded with his irritating smile. It was too bad he decided not to bring his retainer. Ike's frown would have driven them off.
He told her his mother instructed him in dance, but he'd never taken to it. Like melee fighting, it simply didn't interest him, and often tired him unreasonably. "My mother can dance for hours, if the mood moves her. Father doesn't care for the activity, so she came to me as soon as I was old enough. It's a shame I was never good enough to please her."
"She's your mother," Sanaki said. "I'm sure she doesn't mind terribly much."
"Maybe not." Soren shrugged against the back of his chair. "Tauroneo is better at it, and trustworthy. I ordered him to take my place as soon as I found out." He bowed his head, his smile a sarcastic curl. "If he hadn't offered to tutor me, I'd still be dancing with her in that empty ballroom."
Sanaki's rubbed her temple and set her glass on the floor. "It's a shame she didn't accompany you."
Soren looked at her. His expression smoothed. "Yes." His gaze moved across the crowd. The musicians stilled, the music faded beneath the echo of voices, and as a body they stood to move offstage. "She wanted to. I think she would enjoy a party like this."
As soon as the stage darkened Sanaki motioned her knight forward and told her she wanted a few moments of quiet. A headache was coming on, she said, and if anybody needed to see this play least, it was her. How many times was she forced to have it performed in the palace theater - two? Three? Sigrun smiled and moved away to make arrangements for her withdrawal. A headache, is it? the prince asked, watching her from the corner of his eye, and Sanaki narrowed her eyes. That's exactly what it is. Not a word.
The maid who served their wine led Sanaki out of the ballroom and upstairs to a guest bedroom with a promise of tea and a packet of herbs from the resident priest before she departed for one of the back staircases. Tanith checked the room; Sigrun waited in the hallway with her and led her inside when she heard the other knight's signal.
The room was slightly smaller than her own bedroom, the bed plain without posts or canopy, though the headboard was ornately carved and polished to a glassy shine. Sanaki sat on the edge, hands spread on the plain white quilt, and poked the folded hem of her skirt with her toes. The drapes were white, the floor pale wood covered with woven rugs in white and gray. She'd heard of snow-blindness, and felt rather like someone dazzled by too much light from too many surfaces. There was no music to drift up through the window; she heard snatches of loud voices, both female, and wondered if Amelia had the actors perform the play from the beginning, or start with one of the later scenes. She didn't remember the opening section being so strident.
After a few minutes of speech she couldn't quite hear, Sanaki swung her legs onto the bed and turned onto her stomach. She felt one of the others straighten her skirt, pull the crumpled parts from beneath her, heard them whisper to each other. One reached for her sandals. She pulled her ankle from the knight's grasp. "Not now. We won't be here that long."
"Your majesty, what--"
Sigrun was interrupted by a knock. Sanaki lifted her head from her arms. Her knight loosened her sword and approached the door; Tanith positioned herself behind her senior. Sigrun stood behind the door and opened it slowly, leaning to see out. But she paused mid-greeting, then pulled the door open. "Lord Sephiran. I'm sorry, we thought you were someone else." She let him slip inside, closed the door. "Though your presence will not help matters."
He laughed, short, and crossed the room to the bedside. A healing staff dangled from his left hand. The gold handle was too ornate to be one of Amelia's. "You're not usually so blunt, Sigrun." He looked over his shoulder. "I'll take that under advisement."
Sigrun crossed her arms. "Letting rumors fly without interference is bad enough--"
"They're meant to fly this time." Sephiran pulled his hair over his shoulder to sit. The knight frowned behind him, at his back, then looked away. He turned back to Sanaki, indicating the staff. "The prince said you looked ill when the play started."
"Because you made me read the script seven times." She pressed her forehead to her arms, sighing against the quilt. "That was uncalled for."
"You deceived the prince with that knowledge, didn't you?" She heard his smile when he responded, which meant he was trying not to laugh. The mattress dipped under his weight, and in the space beneath her arm she saw him rest the staff against the night table. "You're well, then." He pressed his fingers to her shoulders, letting up when she hunched and tried to shrug his hand away. "You'll have a real headache by the end of the night if you keep on like this."
Sanaki rolled her shoulders back. "If we were really here just to dance..."
"I'm sorry." Sephiran rubbed her shoulders more gently, thumbs working into a knot of tension at her neck. "The only real solution is to get it over with."
The trial, or the meeting? She pushed her face into the lavender-scented comforter. He ordered Tanith to wait outside, and Sanaki heard Sigrun move over to the window and pull the heavy curtain to look out. The steel boning sewn into her corset held her posture rigidly straight. Her court costume had lacing, but it wasn't so unyielding - just heavy, and hot, and this dress left her shoulders chilled and her legs sweltering. It hadn't mattered so much when she was sitting up.
She pushed up when the pressure of Sephiran's hands began to hurt and twisted into a sitting position, pulling her legs and the heavy layers of her skirt behind him and over the edge of the bed. We can loosen it, he said when he realized what her problem was, and Sanaki shook her head. Wouldn't it be awkward for their guest walked into the middle of that process? It would be for her, at the very least. She didn't want to be seen dressed down - literally or figuratively - in front of anyone with connections to that family. Sitting up makes it better, she told him. He prodded one of the steel ribs through the velvet bodice and lifted an eyebrow.
"You can try it on later and see for yourself."
Sephiran leaned away from her. "That-- won't be necessary."
Sanaki pulled his hand to her lap and stroked the back, smiling. "You might look good in--"
He pressed his other hand to her mouth. "No."
They were interrupted by another knock. Tanith leaned in to announce the maid with Sanaki's tea, and she beckoned for the knight to let her in. The same girl entered, her dark hair now loose and spread over her back, and she held a small round tray with a teapot and porcelain cup clinking at the center. She slid the tray onto the night table and they shook, rattling against each other until she let go. The door closed.
"Lady Gaddos," Sephiran said. Sanaki's eyes snapped to him, followed his gaze to the girl's face. "Please make your greetings."
The maid - Lekain's wife - backed quickly away and fell to her knees. The black livery skirt spread around her, the hem trimmed in with Leandros colors: blue, dark and sky, and a thin band of red. She lowered her head. Black hair slipped over her hunched shoulders. "Your majesty. I apologize for neglecting to greet you properly at the party."
Sanaki watched the other girl's fingers tremble. They were nearly the same age. "Under the circumstances, your conduct is excusable. Don't dwell on it."
"Her name is Astrid," Sephiran said softly, sliding his gaze sideways and looking at her through his lashes. "Formerly of the Damiell family, and one of their best archers until her marriage to Lekain." His gaze turned to their guest. "We have questions, if you're willing to speak. Eyes forward."
Astrid lifted her gaze, looking at him, then at Sanaki. She looked so pale; a red line was bitten into her bottom lip, her pallor was white, almost gray. There were no shadows beneath the woman's eyes, but they had the glassy look of nights without sleep. "If I can be of service--" Astrid took a deep breath and cast her gaze downward. "He did not confide in me, and I did not involve myself in his projects. If I can answer your questions I will."
Sanaki had sworn she wouldn't touch anything given from this woman's hand, and she'd sipped that plum wine for the better part of an hour at the party. Her mouth wanted to pucker, but she kept her lips firmly pressed together. "You'll be kept safe, of course," she said. The girl's eyes flinched away from her expression. "Openings can be arranged here or in Persis, according to your preference. Crimea may also be an option."
"That is--" Sephiran rested his hand on Sanaki's. "If you prove honest. We cannot make any assumptions, even regarding those we think we know."
Astrid's eyes lingered on their hands. "I should have left when the announcement was first made." She bowed her head, frowning. Her brows knitted. "You were right. He does not let go of anything he owns, from his wife to the silver candlesticks-- even his slave holdings. He is merely better at hiding it."
His grip tightened, cramping Sanaki's knuckles together. "Where are they?"
"The mines near the desert," Lady Gaddos said. "Fifty were contracted to Daein and have not returned."
"Why didn't you notify me immediately?"
"I was not allowed to leave without him. His chamberlain wrote my correspondence for me."
Sanaki squeezed back to relieve the pressure of his grip. "The contract." She didn't want to hear any more. The household slaves would have been enough to merit execution. The woman looked up, blinking her crimson eyes, and the air felt thick, tasted unpleasant - like candle wax and lamp oil. "Lekain holds a blood contract. Where is it?"
Her minister's shoulder lifted in a shrug when Astrid's gaze moved to him. "I--" She licked her lips. "I didn't know of any contracts--"
"Yes, you said he didn't confide in you, but--"
"Can you guess?" Sephiran's grip tightened again. His nails bit into the side of her hand. "You're more familiar with his habits than we are. Where does he keep his most important documents?"
A line formed between the woman's brows, and Sanaki looked at a point above her head. The pact was the point of this meeting, wasn't it? And she didn't know - it was clear by the way she chewed her lip, the way her fingers clenched in her skirt, the hunch of her shoulders. She had no idea where the pact was. Sanaki supposed they were lucky Astrid wasn't one of Lekain's confidants, or they wouldn't have the information they did-- and yet, if she were, they wouldn't have to listen to her pathetic story.
Disgusting. Sanaki would slit her own wrists before marrying Lekain. It looked like his wife felt the same.
"If he created such a thing..." Astrid's lips compressed, like she'd tasted something bitter. "He would keep it on his person, most likely. There are pockets sewn into his coats and robes. I don't know what kind or which ones, but they're well-hidden. I saw him pull a-- an artifact of some kind from such a hiding place once."
Sanaki sighed, bowed her head, and let Sephiran handle the rest of the questions. The senators were searched before their imprisonment. Their quarters were searched, their mansions in the city, their provincial holdings. It was possible they'd missed something when rifling through the senators' belongings, but there were only so many places to hide documents and conspicuous objects on one's person. Was there someone else Lekain trusted? Did he have a safe or a secret cubbyhole somewhere?
Perhaps one or more of their people had been compromised. That was not out of the question.
Lady Gaddos left when Sephiran was finished with his interrogation, and Sanaki leaned back, dropped onto the mattress. He looked back at her, but she traced the molding on the ceiling with her eyes, carefully following each curl of plaster vine, and felt the flower pins bite into her head. The strident speeches had stopped, or perhaps Astrid's voice was still a noise in her ears, drowning the sounds of the party that reached the window and crept between the frame and the glass.
She should have let Sephiran handle this meeting by himself. Her gaze shifted back to him. "You told her to run?" He raised his eyebrows, and Sanaki sat up on her elbows. "She said you told her to leave when their marriage was arranged."
"Oh." He turned his face away. Lamplight gilded his profile and danced on his hair when he moved his head. "They offered her to me first, and when I declined, she went to Lekain." His fingers worked a fold creased over his knee, a stray strand of hair caught on his cuffs. "I tried to help her travel out of their reach, but she hesitated too long."
How horrible. Sanaki wanted to ask why she didn't simply go - what was there to hesitate about? The fate of Begnion wasn't resting on the shoulders of a single noble's daughter. If she had entered the armed service, applied for the pegasus knights or the knighthood, wouldn't she be better off? What good was skill in archery if it wasn't used? Her family was insane if they thought leaving her to sit in a manor in Gaddos would bring them more glory than an accomplished knight or a member of the Imperial household guard.
Their situations couldn't be more different. She wouldn't wait for the houses to settle her marriage for her. Never. They were already well on their way to overturning the call for a match.
"We should go back downstairs," Sephiran said quietly.
Sanaki allowed him to help her up and straighten her hair. She would find a way to help Astrid because Sephiran wanted to - because they weren't the same, but they could have been under slightly different circumstances. What if she hadn't pursued his secrets, forced him to confess?
She wanted to keep an eye on Lady Gaddos. It didn't matter how tired or ill she looked; Sanaki wouldn't believe her completely uninvolved until Lekain was buried in the dungeon with Culbert and all of their willing accomplices.
*
The play was nearly over when they returned to the ballroom. Sanaki danced with the prince, with Sephiran, and spoke with the guild head leading the actors to assure him she was not offended by their performance-- illness simply forced her to withdraw, and goddess willing, she would commission his group some other time. He wrung his hands together the whole time they talked. How did he maintain an acting guild with such weak nerves?
At midnight they closed the festivities with the last dance, and Sanaki tried to say her goodbyes as quickly as possible. Most did not have the nerve to approach her directly with Tanith frowning at her side, but her minister had more trouble extracting himself from grasping hands - probably Medina's, but who knew? all she saw was golden hair. She slumped into the corner of the small carriage when they finally got out, wished the ride back was longer so her feet would have time to stop hurting before it was time to climb four flights of stairs to her rooms. Sephiran and the prince spoke briefly about the play over the crunch and turn of the wheels over the tiled streets, the hollow sound of hooves, and when she listened carefully, her ear to the window, she heard the beat of wings above them and the call of the knights in flight to Sigrun, signaling their retreat when they arrived at the palace gate.
Ike was waiting for them in the foyer with his elbow propped on the spiraling end of the stair rail. He straightened as soon as he saw Soren, and they parted company to take another route to the guest wing - through the gardens perhaps, past the koi ponds, a long route during which they might talk. The prince leaned heavily on his escort's arm when they walked away.
If her guard hadn't come out in force to protect her, Sanaki would have sent someone after them to listen. Ike might be vigilant, but he couldn't hear and see everything; if ever there were a time Soren's tongue would be loosened, it was then.
Even if Kilvas were there, she didn't think he could be trusted to report exactly what was said. They didn't yet have confirmation the pact was still in Lekain's hands. And if it was - what if he had the power to modify it? Sephiran had said nothing about that. Did he even know the answer?
Sanaki started to pull the pins from her hair as soon as they reached her rooms and Sigrun closed the door behind them. His hand stopped her - your hair will get in the way - and she let him draw her into the bedroom, position her in front of the dressing table so she could remove her jewelry, and pull her laces out. "What is Queen Daein like?"
Sephiran looked at her a moment in the mirror, hands pausing. "To call her that is somewhat inaccurate." The slither of silk resumed. "Ashnard didn't ever formally bestow that honor upon his wife. I've heard she lives apart from most of the court."
She worked the bracelet over her hand, dropped it into the open jewelry box. Rings and gold chains glittered on the red lining. "Why does Goldoa let such an insult stand?"
His laugh was more a sigh. "Goldoa does not dabble in the affairs of Tellius." He unhooked the corset at her insistence and turned her by the shoulders to the dressing screen when it loosened. "She is no longer an acknowledged member of the family."
Sanaki held the dress to her chest until the silk screen shielded her. "He dances well."
There was a pause. "Does he really."
She smiled. The dress dragged her petticoats down when she let go of it. She left the corset spread on the bench. "He said his mother made him dance with her for years. I thought maybe Ashnard just didn't like to waste time on balls."
His response was lost in the rustle of the cotton and tulle layers she pushed down over her hips, but it sounded like that's probably true. They pooled on the floor, frothy like sea foam. "Why do you think he stepped aside for you?" She pulled the chemise over her head, wrapped herself into a robe. "He must be aware of his own capabilities."
"I've wondered myself," Sephiran said. He turned her around when she joined him on the other side of the screen to pull the pins from her hair and uncoil the length. "He deflected Medina's attention when I left to find you. I was under the impression he didn't like her."
Sanaki rubbed her head once her hair was loose and hanging down her back. The room was too warm, but the night outside wasn't much cooler. They wouldn't want her to open the windows; that was like an invitation, her knights said, unless someone was stationed outside to guard that entry point. "I think I know who he does like." She unclasped his coat, slapping his hands away when he tried to stop her. "You're uncomfortable," she said, digging her fingers under his collar. The skin was moist. She lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not done talking."
He stopped interfering and shrugged out of his coat when she finished. "Is this information you have useful?"
"Probably not." He shook his head, and Sanaki threw his coat over to the dressing bench. It missed and folded onto the floor, and she pulled him away from the temptation to pick it up, sitting him down beside her on the edge of her bed. "But it isn't me, and that's all I really care about."
"Who is it?"
"His retainer." He blinked, drawing back, and Sanaki reached for the collar of his shirt. "It's the way the prince leans on him. The way they talk when he thinks nobody is watching." The first came loose, the second. "He does not initiate so much contact with anybody else."
"But--" His laugh was incredulous. "Even if you're right, his father--"
"Is healthy and strong. Right?" She loosened the third, the fourth.
"T-that doesn't matter. He--" Sephiran snatched her hand away.
Heat rushed to Sanaki's face. She pressed her lips closed, reached for the last button with her other hand, and he grabbed it. "Yes?" He opened his mouth as if to reply, looking away, and she laughed when it seemed he was at a loss for words. "I can't believe you fell for that--"
Sephiran pushed her back onto the bed and Sanaki yelped when she hit the mattress. He let go of her hands, holding her to the quilt by the shoulders. His hair slipped over his shoulders when he leaned over, an inky veil around her head. "To think this isn't even the first time--" He wedged his knee between her legs. "I've raised a seductress."
She tried not to laugh again, biting her lip. Her face still felt unbearably hot. "You can't help it." There was nothing to look at when she averted her gaze, only the last button that she reached down to pull free. "But you know when you've lost a game, don't you?"
He laughed softly, let her push the shirt from his shoulders, pulling his arms from the sleeves obediently when she scrunched them down past his elbows. "Yes."
His skin was softer than it should be - softer than hers. Sanaki traced his clavicle, watched the skin pale around the pressure of her finger. He pulled her sash loose and peeled the layer of her robe away, pressing his thumb into her skin, around the underside of her breast. "You'll stay, won't you?"
The color in his eyes bled to darkness, his gaze almost black. "Yes."
.............................................................
I tried not to dwell too much on useless detail. Didn't help with the word count.
Poor Astrid.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-01-14 03:22 pm (UTC)The party was an interesting change of scenery. I liked the Sanaki/Soren interaction and how it's all stiff - in contrast to how the Sanaki/Sephiran interaction is. Also Almehda's weird dancing thing fits in very well. Aw man Ike and Soren are so ghey and Sanaki kind of figured that out, the smart girl.
And holy crapsule, good job Sephiran and Sanaki. FINALLY YOU'RE GETTING DOWN AND DIRTY.
Otherwise, I'm glad to see another part up so soon. It looks good.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-14 11:24 pm (UTC)Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. XD
no subject
Date: 2009-01-14 09:34 pm (UTC)Also.
Sanaki pulled his hand to her lap and stroked the back, smiling. "You might look good in--"
Sanaki's completely right and Sephiran needs to crossdress more often.
Also, D: ASTRID. *wibble*
Also, yes. You've definitely converted me~
no subject
Date: 2009-01-14 11:25 pm (UTC)Maybe I can find a way to use Astrid and make up for giving her to Lekain - though really, nothing can make up for that experience.
YES. And thank you. XD
no subject
Date: 2009-01-14 11:32 pm (UTC)No, there isn't anything, is there? Poor dear.