Title: Tentative
Summary: Predictions. Fears. Food. Shoes. Love. Living with someone you hardly know. International security. Life, as the Emperor and Empress of Carthak discover, can often be hard.
Author's Note: This was written for the Spring Exchange, hosted at The Dancing Dove, and for Anya/Lady Silvamord/The Last Grand Duchess. It is four sets of twin vignettes, totalling about 2500 words. I will be posting one chapter/set per day. Enjoy, Anya dear.
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Emperor Kaddar secretly fears that his wife will be like Daine.
Admittedly, it would be far more terrifying if his wife is to be like Alanna the Lioness, but Kaddar isn't so worried about that. The Lioness is a legend - someone you meet once in your life and remain in awe at for the rest of it - so Kaddar thinks it unlikely that Tortall would have produced two of those. But Daine - now, Daine is a real worry. Everything about her - at least in appearance - had pronounced Daine an average Tortallan maiden. If this is the average Tortallan, Kaddar thinks - well, he's not sure he would like a wife who forgoes decorum to say what she feels and could outshoot him to boot.
He confessed this to no-one, of course. No sense in making a fool of oneself, especially when one is Emperor of Carthak.
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Princess Kalasin is usually a very adaptable person. Unfortunately, it appears that this adaptability does not extend to certain items of clothing.
"It doesn't seem so bad," offers Faleron. Kalasin is usually grateful for Faleron's vivacity and kindness in the odd few days they spend in each other's company at King's Reach. Today has so far proven to be far from the norm.
"Would you like to swap, then?" she asks sweetly, eyes both teasing and dangerous above the thin silk of her veil. Faleron tilts his head as if in genuine consideration.
"No, but I thank you all the same," he responds after a pause. "Cerulean is far too unsuited to my complexion."
Her smile is polite and hardly visible, but there is genuine amusement dancing in her eyes. "If you would like a veil made to suit your taste, Squire Faleron, you must be sure to let me know."
"Naturally, Your Highness." Faleron appears on the verge of saying something further, but the moment is lost; Kalasin has already turned away.
- fin part one -