The windows of Karnak's room opened onto the wide vista of the city below, buildings and streets lit by the silver light bathing all of Attilan with pale brilliance. The wind whispering at the curtains - gauze glowing as if from within as they shifted in the breeze - brought a pleasant coolness to the lofty chamber, and a faint scent of flowers lifted from the palace gardens. The marble floor was bare save for an armoire, a shelf of books, and a bed with a small chair beside it.

Footsteps echoing on the floor; a man entered the room. He was not tall, but there was a somberness to his eyes that hinted at intelligence beyond the mundane. His movements seemed controlled and measured down to the barest tremor - though he walked, his figure somehow radiated the paradoxical conviction of stillness.

"My lord Karnak." A handmaiden stepped from the shadows and pulled the robe off him, the green silk slipping from his shoulders like water. Folding it carefully, she placed it over the back of the chair. He eased himself slowly onto the bed as though he carried a great weight on his back, mouth tightening imperceptibly as if he were in pain. Then he swung his legs up onto the sheets.

"Thank you, Minxi." His voice was mellow, devoid of almost all expression save the surface veneer of civil detachment that he bore so much of the time, and its low resonance did not carry in the wide emptiness of the chamber despite the height of the ceiling. Perhaps the sound was lost to the slight breeze outside the yawning windows. The maid inclined her head in mute acknowledgement of her Lord's thanks.

Karnak leaned back on one elbow in the reclining posture of a classical statue, as though too tired to hold himself up properly but too tired also to move. He seemed immaculate as a figure carved of gleaming marble, the silver light of nighttime reflecting off his collarbone and highlighting the planes of muscle in his chest and stomach as he breathed a slow breath out his nose. His eyes almost closed, but not quite. Crossing the last steps to the side of the bed, Minxi put a hand on his shoulder, and wordlessly he shifted into a sitting position, hunched over with his arms around his knees. She began to work at the tight muscles in his shoulders and neck, massaging the tenseness from them. Karnak squeezed his eyes shut. She slid her hands forward to massage his chest. The moonlight coming in at an oblique angle made his cheekbone impossibly sharp.

"Lord Karnak... Is all well?" the handmaiden asked tentatively. "Your proposed amendments to the genetic charter..." her voice petered out.

He made no answer for a long moment. Then, "Vetoed," he said inscrutably.

"I am sorry."

He did not respond to that.

For awhile they continued; motionless save for the movement of her hands, silent save for Karnak's breathing and the irregular rustling of the curtains as the darkened city below was caressed by an almost imperceptible wind.

Then Minxi put one knee up on the bed so she could reach his face and pressed her mouth lightly to the edge of his jaw, kissing along its sharp line until her lips met his. They parted slightly but he remained otherwise unresponsive; by the clouded look in his eyes he appeared lost in thought, or exhausted - perhaps both. He was often like this, albeit to a lesser degree, but Minxi knew him well enough to predict his desires even if they were buried. She would distract him from whatever crippling responsibility weighed him down tonight; he would forget his melancholy with violent abandon in her embrace, as always.

Kissing him with growing intensity, she moved so she was on top of him; one hand behind his head - pulling his face to hers - and the other pressed to his stomach where she could feel a fluttering pulse beneath the hardness of muscle. He adjusted his position to accommodate her but remained seemingly unaffected by her advances, not reciprocating with any conviction.

She slipped her leg up so it was beside his slim waist, biting passionately at his lip, and felt him clutch her thigh tightly as he let out a small sound of pleasure - the slight pressure of his hipbone on her flesh reassuring that her actions were pleasing him despite his irregular detachment. Encouraged, she guided his other hand to her breast and kissed him with renewed intensity to try and incite more of a reaction, lips trailing along his throat; pressed her mouth to the still coolness of his skin, let her hands move along his sides to grasp his hips, and moved to capture his mouth in another violent kiss -

He put up a hand and pushed her back gently. Confused, she paused.

"Minxi. Not tonight," he said, eyes dead.

She stiffened and pulled back at his expressionless voice. Getting quickly off the bed and bowing her head, she turned to leave.

"Wait-" the sudden words sounded almost strangled. She faced him again.

"Come to bed?"

There was a hidden desperation in his voice. He raised himself up on one elbow, and she could tell he was looking at her; but the light of the open window behind him threw his face into shadow, and all but the moonlit contours of his body were invisible; and his emotions were even more inscrutable than usual. His words themselves, meanwhile, were yet another conundrum.

She hesitated. A breath of wind, suddenly chill, sent a shiver down her spine.

"Minxi?"

Returning to the side of the bed, she climbed in hesitantly. With a nearly inaudible sigh, he wrapped his arms loosely around her, pulling so her back was against his chest. Leaning his head forward, he pressed his mouth to the soft curve where her neck met her shoulder; his breaths were slow and controlled, tickling her skin and making the hair on her neck rise.

"I would marry you," he said quietly. "Do you believe me?"

"I don't know."

He did not reply to that, but breathed out gently through his nose.

"Attilan..." he began, but petered out.

She could feel the faint beating of his steady pulse against her back.

"Minxi-" his voice hitched. And suddenly he was trembling, breaths coming in tiny gasps as he began to cry silently.

Karnak never cried, never showed emotion beyond the barest frown of displeasure or his rare and faint smiles - his unshakable composure was as much a part of him as his the quickness of his hands or the way his eyes sparkled when he was happy.

Alarmed, she turned to hug him tightly; held his shaking hands and wiped at the wetness around his eyes and tried to comfort his distress with her closeness and warmth. She rubbed his back, let him cry into her hair, murmured lovingly into his ear; let him pretend she hadn't noticed he was sobbing like a broken child, so he could save face. She would not betray his lowered defenses.

When at last his tears subsided after many minutes, he was left motionless, limp and drained and unwilling to speak. If Minxi was bothered by the wetness on her dress, she said nothing. If Karnak knew the cause of his own distress, he did not share.

"Why do you come here every night?" he asked suddenly, voice tinged with bitterness. "Is it because I am a member of the royal family, a Lord, and you are a servant with a duty?"

"Karnak, what's wrong?" she plead, tilting her head to look into his eyes. For a moment he met her gaze, and his usually clear eyes were pits of shadow; dark, almost fearful with an unspoken pain - the choking, betrayed agony of a trapped animal smart enough to know the end is near. He opened his mouth slightly as if trembling on the edge of renewed tears or a horrific admission; he blinked once. Then his eyes went blank.

"You will address me with respect," he said, looking past her into the emptiness of the room, voice again devoid of emotion. "I am your better, and you will treat me as such. You may refer to me as 'my lord'."

She stiffened, pulled away, throat growing tight with anger. "I beg pardon, my Lord." Her tone was too terse, she knew, and he would be in his rights to punish her later if he wished - but somehow she found enough anger that she didn't care, not really. She slipped from the bed. "I will send Narron to attend your pleasure. He will service you adequately, I am certain."

"Wait-"

She ignored him. She ignored him, though he was royalty and she a maid. His indifference burned her and she needed warmth, needed to get out of the cold and lofty chamber where she spent so much time in uncertainty and doubt. Whatever he felt for her, it was not love; and naïve though she was, easy as it was to pretend when he spoke to her so softly alone in the darkness, she could not stand the cruel inconsistency of his moods. She left, her footsteps sounding cold and hollow on the flagstones of his bedchamber. She did not look back.

Karnak, for his part, remained motionless on the bed, silhouetted by the blue moonlight streaming in the wide windows.

Eyes dead, he laughed quietly. Then at last he turned over and resigned himself to a silent night of restless dreams.