Author's Note: This second chapter insisted on being written from the POV of the Lady Holder.
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The drums on the heights are booming. Steady cadences in a specific order that tell everyone in the Fort: "Visitors approaching." Specifically, the sevalle Crimson Kai Sink and the valle Black Wing. I catch my breath in delight, making Livana look up from the hem of a gown she has been pinning, having coaxed me to fit it in the first instance.
"So, sweetling, they come at last," she chuckles, feeling the excited shiver that runs through me. Her storm-grey eyes are kind and full of laughter, and I laugh and bounce - just a little - in reply.
Dear, sweet Livana, who took me in hand that long-ago day in the palace, who gave a lost, frightened child comfort and hope. I led her a merry chase back then, and even now she clucks over me with genuine concern whenever I appear to be stretching the limits of what is proper for a young woman in my position.
"Yes, indeed," I tell her, and she helps me swiftly out of the gown with sure hands that have a care for the gossamer silks. In no time at all, she has me robed in what I call my 'working clothes' - soft leather leggings and a white linen shirt, over which is drawn an overgarment that is little more than a huge rectangle of cloth folded in half to form two panels. A diamond-shaped hole allows my head and neck to pop through the middle, and the two sides are bound together by a silken sash.
Today Livana decks me out in lavander, running her fingers gently over the fine embroidery over my breast before tweaking my shirt collar into place. I hold out my arms to either side as she winds a sash about my waist - gold to match the embroidery -- tying it into an intricate knot.
"There you are, m'lady," she says in satisfaction once the process is complete. She stands back as I turn slowly before her, in a ritual unchanged since she first dressed me for public appearances. "Those cats at the royal palace may say what they like - you've never needed a formal Court gown to make you pretty."
"Ah, Livana!" I give her a swift hug, coloring a little."I really don't deserve you."
"Nonsense," she retorts, returning the hug and pushing me towards the door. "We've done well enough by each other, have we not? Now come, for it would do me good to lay eyes on the most handsome men in Kuruda."
"There are those who would say Scarface Vy Low. . ." I begin, with a wicked little smile as we go through the door, and Livana huffs with a twinkle in her grey eyes.
"Yes, m'lady, and I will agree with them," she replies in a lazy voice that perfectly mimics Scarface's drawling tones. "Even with that scar, Lord Vy Low is indeed handsome enough. But there is that about him which would make me hesitate to put my heart in his hands."
I smile indulgently at Livana's remark, knowing she has never really forgiven Scarface for drawing me into various escapades that, while strengthening my fighting skills, also taught me more of danger, the nature of deception and devious planning than she thought it was proper for me to know.
Suddenly I hear Morwen's voice downstairs, Royce. . .and two deep voices that I would know waking and sleeping, in pitch black or blinding sunlight, above the howling of storm winds or the hush of summer nights. I hear Livana's bemused laugh as I rush to the balustrade, in time to see them enter the great hall, and my breath catches in my throat as I see them for the first time since I left them in that meadow.
No need for underhearing to tell me how it is between these men I love -it is written all over them. There is a glow in both their faces, flushed pink with more than exposure to the sun. They stand easily beside each other now; two men replete and satisfied, and a sentimental sigh escapes me.
Ever since I caught that one look between them, I knew. Watching them together only served to confirm what I suspected. . .that they had been lovers once, and could be again, if only they could get past the barriers of pride and convention and all the years that had come between them. It was easy breaking the matter with Dias - especially after I had gently teased him about the yearning glance he had sent Crimson's way after they had had some sort of spat. I have no idea what it was about any more, but the results will live in my mind forever.
"Some days," I had told him then, "You don't know whether to send a black wing after him, shake him. . .or grab him in your arms and kiss him."
Dias had turned to look at me with absolute shock and panic in his marvelous green eyes. In a hoarse voice, he demanded to know what I was talking about, still attempting to deny what had been so obvious to me from the start.
"Dias, you know damn well what I mean. You still love him," I retorted, myself wanting to hit him with the flat edge of Lyorax, shake him, and kiss him - not necessarily in that order, and preferably simultaneously.
"How could you know?" Not denying it now, admitting that his secret was out, but wanting confirmation. I sighed and called on the powers of Souma for help, knowing that my next words would rock the poor dear man even more.
"A woman knows these things," I began airily. I would have left it at that, but the look in his eyes - the loneliness and hunger - undid me completely. I felt fire sweep over my face as his stare challenged me to be honest with his heart, and I could not deny those demanding emeralds their due. So I sighed softly and tried again.
"You ask how I know you love him, Dias?" I said, serious now. "I know because you're wearing the look I see in my own mirror when I look at myself and know he doesn't care for me...that way."
As I thought, the whole idea shocked Dias to the core and he nearly stormed after Crimson to tell him everything! We had a pretty argument about that, and fortunately for us all, I managed to make him see reason. Eventually we ended up making a pact to keep our mutual secret - but of course, Dias hardly reckoned that the lessons I had learned from Scarface would stand me in good stead in this matter of the heart.
I chuckle softly to myself, and return to the present with the sound of Morwen's heels clicking away towards his office. I see the look Crimson exchanges with Dias, and hush the little voice of longing in my heart.
Yes, I do admit that I wish Kai-sama would look at me like that. But I am not his choice, and never has a Lyvalle been so foolish as to poach on another's property, or turn into a weeping willow for love!
As if hearing my thoughts, Crimson looks up suddenly, his blue eyes light and open in a way I've never seen since Dias came home. My heart catches; he smiles and my feet are set into motion, carrying me down the stairs to greet them. I may not be the chosen of Kai-sama's heart - but I love him dearly. Enough to give him his heart's desire at the expense of my own. But to see them together, to know I have given them a chance to share love before the shadows claim our Black Wing - it is reward enough, and I have schooled myself to be content.
/tbc