Inter Nos

by ethnewinter

AU & OoC Disclaimer: Mai-Hime/Otome characters belong to Sunrise. The Mai-Hime/-Otome characters in a universe fashioned after the world of Ancient Rome.

37. Chapter 37

Vocabulaire:

1. Actaeon – A man who accidentally chanced upon Artemis bathing in a pool. The goddess struck him with drops of water from her hand, regardless of his innocence, and turned him into a stag for the offence. Actaeon had been hunting, his dogs were present, and the hounds pursued their own master and killed him.

2. Athena – See entry for "Pallas Athena".

3. Calydon (in text: association with "swine") – Site of the famous Calydonian Boar Hunt: King Oeneus offended the goddess Artemis and caused her to send a great boar to ravage his country in punishment. The Calydonian Boar Hunt is supposed to have taken place afterwards, with many legendary heroes participating in the attempts to kill the monster sent by Artemis.

4. Client-patron relations – In much the same way that Rome/Hime has client-states, politicians have client-persons. These are people who enrol themselves under the protection and welfare provided by a prominent and powerful politician, who then has them under his or her authority, more or less. In exchange for this power over them, the clients may seek the patron's help for such things as monetary aid, or for the protection of their interests in legislation.

5. Cupid – Also Eros (Gk.); God of Love; often presented as a beautiful youth bearing good gifts to men.

6. Diana – Also Artemis (Gk.), Selene (Gk.), Luna (L.); Goddess of The Hunt, Goddess of the Moon, Lady of Wild Things, protectress of youth. Often depicted with bow and arrows, her silver shafts are supposed to bring instant death.

7. First (specifically, The First Century) – A military term; the foremost and supposedly best century in a legion, here being Nao Yuuki's and thus the best century of the Ninth Legion in particular.

8. Gorgon – Creatures whose looks could turn men to stone.

9. Nereid – The nymphs of the sea, daughters of Nereus. There were supposedly fifty, and Achilles' mother, Thetis, is among them.

10. Pallas Athena – Also Minerva (L.); Goddess of Wisdom and War; favourite daughter of Zeus; called Brighteyes by the other gods and said to have grey eyes. The reference Shizuru mentions, in relation to Nao's Ulysses/Odysseus costume, is that Ulysses was one of Athena's favourites, and he was helped throughout the Odyssey by her as he made his way home.

11. Porticus – A building constructed around a central, open courtyard.

12. Psyche – An exceedingly beautiful woman supposed to have caught the eye of Cupid (s.v.). Venus was jealous of Psyche's beauty and hold over her son, and was thus her enemy. See the Latin writer Apuleius' account, for details.

13. Ulysses – Also Odysseus (Gk.); protagonist of the Odyssey and the genius of the wooden horse that led to Troy's downfall. He was supposed to have red hair.

14. Venus Victrix – Venus the Victorious; an aspect of Venus who can grant victories even in war.

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Inter Nos

par ethnewinter

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Eight days later, the approaching death of winter was celebrated by Argus. For most people, it was a subdued celebration. Perhaps the lingering cold and still-to-thaw snow was responsible for that, or perhaps it was simply that they were saving up their celebratory energies for the actual fullness of spring, but the feasting was kept to a minimum, the noise more conversation than clatter. The rowdiest parties, among the common folk, were those in the taverns—nothing out of the ordinary, given that tavern crowds were always rowdier.

The local elite too had a celebration all their own. It held great social as well as political meaning, for their gathering was traditionally a statement of unity from the persons considered to be the leaders of Argus. This included the owners of big economic concerns; the heads of the merchants' guilds; the representatives of racial or social factions; and even, when applicable, the commanders of wintering armies.

This year's celebration was deemed especially important. After the year's conflicts, announced the governor, this commemoration of provincial unity was more necessary than ever. It was a way of telling the citizens that they need not be concerned about the recent problems and unrest, that the province's leaders were still more or less willing to be civil to one another. This was no false propaganda: the practical purpose of the said event was truly for the leaders to discuss matters of cooperation and settle arguments in a more relaxed atmosphere than the typical board room. And this year, the governor had decided, there were "a bloody good lot" of matters of cooperation and argumentation that simply cried to be discussed.

"I think it a brilliant idea," Shizuru said, in response to another partygoer asking her what she thought of the event. Her interrogator was an influential grain merchant and a former Mentulaean citizen. "More than ever, the citizens of Argus need reassurance that the city is united in its interests and that mere distinctions of race are not sufficient to cause a break in the ranks."

The merchant was a pudgy man with hair the colour of sand. He now hummed pensively. Shizuru studied him covertly in the meantime, for she thought him in rather curious dress. He had come draped in the finest and most vivid yellow fabrics, which he informed everyone supposedly distinguished him as the Druidic equivalent of Apollo, Lugh. The governor had chosen to make this year's gala a costume event.

"Mere distinctions of race, Fujino-san?" he repeated after Shizuru, who was spectacularly decked out in golden and cream cloth as Venus Victrix—not so much out of conceit, everyone present knew, but in order to honour her divine ancestress.

"It's well to say that," the merchant eventually said. "Yet it's only recently that someone was killing—no, murdering citizens of Argus in their sleep, for those 'mere distinctions'. And it's only recently too that the governor tightened her regulations on Mentulaeans coming into Argus. Distinctions, but not 'mere', I think."

Another person in the group responded to this before Shizuru could.

"It's not fair to bring up that spate of serial killings to Fujino-san," he said, speaking with a lighter hint of the same accent the other man had displayed. He was also an emigrant from Obsidian's empire, just like the former speaker. "In truth, this gathering is precisely to show that those of us who know better don't agree with such barbaric actions."

"That is so, Korel-han," Shizuru replied with a tip of the head to this other speaker. She tried not to look at the strange headpiece he wore, which had had people staring at him all night. Even Shizuru's companion, dressed as the Goddess of the Hunt, had been unable to resist murmuring a jest that it was very difficult to resist letting fly an arrow at the man. This was because Korel wore an enormous—and authentic, he assured all who enquired—set of branching stag's antlers on his head. Shizuru was fascinated by the thought of how heavy they probably were and had to agree with her girl: the ridiculous costume did tempt an arrow or two.

"This gathering is symbolic of everyone's desire to see no more of those horrors," she proceeded. "That such a reprehensible series of acts by some grossly mistaken people took place prior to this does not invalidate the sentiment of this meeting. Rather, it actually strengthens the resolve of those here who are determined not to see it happen again."

Sounds and replies came from the other people in the cluster of couches and sumptuous seats. Amidst them rose the voice of yet another influential Argus denizen, this time a very wealthy Greek transporter. Given her commercial concerns, everyone agreed that her chosen persona was appropriate in reference, though perhaps not in appearance: a Nereid.

"I agree with this," the Greek said with a toss of the head, causing ringlets like spun iron to pitch on her brow. She was already an old woman, no more than a withered old wisp in size and shape. Yet the sternness of her aura was such that everyone was intimidated into listening to her without daring interruption.

"This gathering is just what the province needs," said this oddly wizened and withered sea nymph. "I myself deal in trade over the waters and some of my usual commerce has been slowed by the governor's regulations. Yet I'm not Mentulaean. I'm Greek. To claim that the increasingly stringent rules on incomers and—though to a slightly lesser extent—outgoers is applied only to Mentulaean citizens or those of Mentulaean origin is untrue. Everyone is affected by the regulations! This is, after all, a trade city. We all have to suffer with restrictions of this type. But if that's the price for our safety, then so be it! It has always been the province of government to regulate our activities and curb our flows, lest we become too perilously free."

Again several people voiced their agreement along with Shizuru, who was immensely thankful that the old woman had said this for her. After all, given that she was technically part of "the government", there was a greater chance of the same words coming from her being greeted with resentment by the economic elite that had to put up with the restraints. Coming from one of them, however, and a very influential one at that, it begged fewer accusations of state-run authoritarianism.

"I would concur with my good lady here," Shizuru followed with notable diffidence. "And this is, I assure you, a personal concurrence. I believe that Sugiura-han has considered everyone's best interests equally in whatever rules she has recently applied to the province and that her consideration is informed by a wealth of experience and familiarity—and, I should think, affection—gained from having governed and lived amongst the people of Argus for years. Of course, it may be bold of me, a mere outsider, to say this."

"Not at all!" came the exclamation from yet another guest, loudest in a chorus. "I don't know about my other colleagues here, but hearing that from you settles any doubts I had. You are after all an economic power in your own right, most of us know."

He ran his eyes around the group.

"It's good to be reminded, I think, of how fortunate we are in having Sugiura-san," stated the man. "Other provinces have problems. They've complaints of being raped by greedy governors, who happen to be incompetents aside from being selfish gluttons. We've all had our run-ins with the State, but have we ever found fault in her for that in particular?"

There was a ripple of thoughtful murmurs, followed by someone lifting his cup.

"There's a truth," he declared. "By Jupiter, let's drink to our governor, ladies and gentlemen! Lift your cups. Let's show them that, even if the province's leaders can differ in opinion, they do not differ in interest."

The rest lifted their cups in accord, cheering for both their province and their governor. It was in this moment of harmony that Shizuru's senior legate came up and asked to borrow her commanding officer for a moment, which request the others granted with regret. Many of them had been charmed thoroughly throughout the evening by the urbane patrician, and those of them less susceptible to charm had been won over from the start by knowledge of her other considerable assets. They were all plutocrats, after all, and nothing attracted a plutocrat nearly as much as money. And everyone was aware that money was one thing the young Fujino indubitably possessed.

"It looked to me like you were finished conquering them and needed extraction," Chie told Shizuru, who laughed. "As you requested earlier, I've come to save you from their clutches. So leave us go to a discreet spot where we can all get some well-deserved breathing space after hobnobbing with the local elite."

"Thank you, Chie-han," Shizuru replied as they walked in search of a private corner. She checked that her bodyguard was close behind them. "I hope it to be the last time you have to save me that way tonight."

Chie waved away a slave offering a tray of chilled, honey-glazed fruit.

"You're welcome and it's fine," she said. "I know very well they'd try to keep you with them as long as possible, so I'm glad to do you the favour of providing an escape, no matter how many times you need it and how many little cliques you have to visit and bend to your will. Besides, I had to get you out of there quickly just now for another reason."

Here she leaned in close to whisper something into her friend's ear, making it harsh in order to be heard above the din of guests and music.

"It looked to me like glorious Diana was ready to perch a few shafts on their chests."

She cast a sideways look at the goddess being discussed and saw the immaculate face in the half-light, the slender brows closing again in irritation when someone accidentally brushed an arm. She has reason to be irked, Shizuru thought, a little irritated herself. She knew the accident might not be so accidental. It would have taken a blind man and a fool not to want to brush against the young woman, who had come in white dress and silver-draped garb. This was by Shizuru's own request. The Himean had wished to indulge her private fancies of the girl as Artemis, of course, but had also done it out of yet another, rather recent guilty pleasure: that of dressing up her lover.

She had recently discovered special happiness in swathing the Otomeian in the softest linens; she loved to adorn the younger woman with precious ornaments that complemented not only Natsuki's atmosphere but also matched her own. For instance, she had slipped a thick band of glittering silver on the girl's arm tonight and decorated the other arm's wrist with a bracelet of the same material ornamented with cabochons of jade. They had been yet more gifts in an endless procession and Natsuki had been bashfully loath to accept. That is, until the Himean revealed that she had a twin of the bracelet, this one made of gold and studded with lapis lazuli instead, which she then fastened around her own wrist. Even the dress she wore seemed complementary to the one she chose for the girl—not a twin but a foil.

Chie did not miss the effect. She had even indulged in a public giggle over it with some of the other Himeans present, and also in a private sigh to herself. Say what some might about such drolly romantic behaviour, she was nonetheless romantic enough herself to enjoy it. Besides, there was the fact too that the pair indulging in such behaviour were remarkably suited for it and each other. It was the contrast of a woman like the rising sun next to a woman of twilight. It was her friend's charm that was all brightness, of course: Shizuru was dazzle and daze, blinding in her attractions yet reassuringly warm. Whereas the Otomeian was just pure frost: it was an appeal so cold it burned, like a sultry, sexy something that had little reassurance and plenty of intimidation.

Venus and Diana, Chie decided, still trying to come up with the right words to describe the pair. The former makes you think of giving everything up to touch her; the latter makes you think you just can't.

They found the dim nook they had been seeking behind one of the many drapes placed over the immense atrium's archways and recesses. This one nook was just such a recess, a modest alcove set with two plush couches that filled its space with a small rectangular table. It was apparent that someone else had had the use of this alcove earlier, since there were a few empty plates and some used goblets. Chie thrust her head out of the curtain as the other two women settled themselves, while she beckoned a passing slave nearby. After a few seconds of consultation, the slave entered and cleared the table, promising to discreetly return with wine for the ladies in hiding.

"Wait."

All eyes turned to the Otomeian captain, who had risen from her place.

"I will go too."

Shizuru lifted an eyebrow.

"You do not need to, Natsuki," she said, realising that Natsuki meant to ensure the integrity of the drink to be delivered to them. The girl insisted, however, and it was with some reluctance that Shizuru finally bent to her will. The two went off, and the pair of Himeans were left in the alcove.

"That's taken care of that," Chie said, making herself comfortable in her own long couch, which she occupied by herself. "I must compliment your costumes, since I've yet to do that. They're gorgeously appropriate. You both look lovely."

"Yours is very fine too, Chie-han, though you seem to be missing a blindfold."

Chie laughed.

"Ahh, I don't really believe that love is blind, you know," she said.

"Nonetheless, you make a handsome Cupid."

"Alas, I'm separated from my Psyche."

"But shall certainly reunite with her," Shizuru pointed out.

"True, that's how the tale goes. And if I remember, you're the one who was intent on keeping us apart, oh dearest mother. I hate you," she said in a perfect deadpan manner.

Shizuru laughed gently.

"To some extent, I fear it is true," she told her friend.

Chie grinned, looking rather rakish for a love-bringing deity. Shizuru reflected on how masculine her friend's beauty could be; the male garb tonight emphasised it.

"That's a joke, Shizuru-san, so please don't take it so grimly. Come now, we ladies of love must get along! Anyway, am I right in guessing your costumes were your idea?"

Shizuru confirmed it.

"Well done, then. The allusive significance is nice, too." She chuckled suddenly, her brown eyes alight. "Is it so that anyone tempted to undress her with their eyes thinks better of it, under threat of being turned into a hapless deer?"

The other woman smirked.

"I am thrilled to see that at least one person took my meaning," she said with throaty warning.

Chie loosed another chuckle.

"Dear me," she said. "Take heed or be chased by the hounds, eh? Though, if I remember, Actaeon meant no harm and simply happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Quite," Shizuru nodded. "Still, poor fool. Such can only happen to one unloved by luck."

"You can say that only because you're beloved of Fortuna. Have you seen her walking around, by the way? The buxom, strapping woman with the scales?"

"Heavens." Faint amazement registered in the bloody eyes. "That really was a woman?"

"It got me too! She, though she looks like a she who is really a he, is really a she who just looks like a he dressed up as a she—and I can't believe I just said that without tripping!" Chie laughed boisterously with her friend, eyes darting around in an effort to spy the subject of their talk. "She's been made unofficial judge of all the wagers and petty contests the drunkards are getting into, which isn't fair since I've noticed her scales tend to tip in favour of the person who adds a sneaky coin or two to his scale's weight! Although that's probably only proper, come to think of it. Fortune really does love the rich, don't you think so?"

Shizuru laughed at the jab to her own fortunes.

"As usual, I do not really have a reply to that question, Chie-han," she said.

"You can afford not to answer, Shizuru-san," Chie replied with a small grin. "Anyway, have you seen the other officers in their costumes?"

"Oh, yes. Suou-han looks superb."

"She always does."

"And Nao-han suits her guise, methinks."

"Ulysses, yes, the red-headed trickster. She wanted to go around the party dragging a horse."

Shizuru barely stopped her shout of laughter.

"But," Chie went on, "since she couldn't find a wooden one on short notice, that fell through."

"I would have thought dragging that grey-eyed Pallas with her was sufficient reference."

"Ah, yes!" The senior legate expounded quite excitedly on the subject, actually sitting up from her relaxed slouch. "She's interesting, isn't she, that one our dear old primipilus has managed to find? Oh, she's not a beauty in the average sense—she wouldn't hold a candle to your girl, say, for sheer purity of the structure—but she's definitely something."

"I agree, she has her own appeal, unconventional as it is."

"Pure Minerva in the looks, at least in her garb tonight. And those eyes she has! So luminous and flashing and appropriately grey! Such cheekbones! Yuuki's one lucky woman."

Shizuru tapped a finger on her lower lip thoughtfully, a dire grin forming on her mouth.

"Dear me," she murmured. "Perhaps I ought to tell Psyche, after all."

Chie turned an alarmed look to her.

"It's nothing like that," she told her commander. "I'm merely appreciating the aptness of her beauty to her guise, Shizuru-san. No one here catches my eye that way and no one could, since she's not here."

"Of course," said the other woman, innocence in her eyes. "That was exactly what I meant to tell Psyche. Why, did you think it was something else?"

She found out that dear, kindly Cupid was capable of glowering after all.

"You've a streak of meanness in you that surfaces from time to time," Chie grumbled. "It was only remote praise, you know. I'd say the same of you, to other people, and I have. Or of Natsuki-san, since she does fit her guise quite spectacularly—which means I'm praising you, as it was your choice to put her in that costume. Anyway, it's all meant in true, unimpeachably innocent admiration."

"Then I thank you again, and assure you my own reply just now was made in unimpeachable innocence too," Shizuru smiled, drawing a disbelieving scoff. "At any rate, Natsuki was rather pleased with my choice too, you know."

"Oh, really? Did it tickle her fancy to come as the Goddess of the Hunt?"

"Perhaps. I do not know. What I meant was that she was pleased that the costume meant she could carry weapons on her person, being the Goddess of the Hunt."

Chie blinked, then smiled as she guessed at it: "She wanted to come in her uniform, didn't she?"

"Yes, and with her daos."

"Which she's traded for a bow, arrow, and daggers laced to each beautifully-shaped, ivory-skinned thigh." At Shizuru's expressionless glance, she hastened to explain. "Not that I have been staring at said thighs! Merely observing something I noted shortly earlier, in passing, by a perfunctory look."

Before Shizuru could say anything beyond a chuckle, the curtain parted yet again and the slave from earlier entered with the requested wine and goblets, followed into the alcove by the Goddess of the Hunt herself. The slave left, drawing the curtain behind her—which action was followed by a puff of annoyance from Shizuru's chief legate.

Shizuru looked at Chie curiously, following the legate's gaze to the scene beyond the drape. The cloth was thin enough to see through, thanks to the blaze of the torches and lamps on the other side.

"Oh," Shizuru said, upon finding the person on whom Chie's eyes were. "Is that not…"

"Yes, the pompous arse."

Shizuru covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. The person in discussion was another of Hime's more popular authors—and someone Chie happened to abhor, doling out such personal descriptions of the woman as an "oily, bombastic word-spewer without a single grain of true wit".

"You dislike her, as I recall," the patrician mused, to provoke her friend a little.

"Have you read her latest work, Shizuru-san?"

"No, I am afraid not."

"Be more afraid of reading it than otherwise. For someone who claims to be one of the best rhetoric-teachers around—and who charges her pupils duly for that claim—she sure finds new ways to overuse 'therefore' to hyperextend her sentences, therefore causing the reader extreme anxiety over finally seeing the end of each point—therefore begging the question of whether she actually ends her points—therefore causing you to sink into such ennui from her tediousness that you therefore begin to ask yourself if she even has a bloody point."

Shizuru had dissolved into laughter by this time. It had already lapsed into soft giggling when she felt a light touch on her arm, accompanied by Chie's remark.

"Oh," said the legate. "I think Natsuki-san wants something."

Shizuru looked at Natsuki's grave face.

"What is it, Na—" She stopped. "Ahh. Is he here already?"

A nod.

"I see. In that case, we should go." Shizuru turned to Chie. "I am ever so sorry, but would you be so kind as to excuse us, Chie-han? There is someone with whom I must speak."

She spared a regretful glance for the mostly-untouched wine on the table.

"I promise I shall have another drink with you soon," she told her chief legate.

"Go on," Chie replied. "Is it that chap Nao told me about? The one who runs that agency?"

"Yes, that would be correct," her friend answered.

"Hope it goes well, and know it will, even if I hoped otherwise."

They left the legate. Natsuki led the way as they emerged from the alcove and went through the atrium and attached courtyard. This was the property not of the State but of one of Argus's wealthiest moguls. He was actually a Himean—of the loyalist tradition, the governor had remarked to Shizuru—and his manor had always been the chosen site for this particular celebration in the past. So long as he considered this signal honour meriting the opening of his fabulously stocked wine-cellars—something he always did to mark the occasion—it was highly unlikely that the governor would ever decline his offer to host the party in the future.

In any case, his manor was remarkably suited for hosting parties; rumour even had it that he had its architect build it with the express purpose of making a home that could host three parties at the same time. Whether or not this report was true was immaterial, for no-one seeing the sheer breadth of his estate, the height of the mural-covered walls, and the girth of the colonnades of his porticus, could possibly doubt the place's capacity for accommodation. Indeed, it accommodated the present event very comfortably.

A sizeable domicile indeed, Shizuru thought abstractedly, as she followed her bodyguard's lead through their linked hands. She estimated at least a hundred guests tonight, with a slave dancing attendance on each one. Combined with the troupe of Greek actors brought in, the dancers and magicians, the mummers and musicians—well, it was a sizeable crowd, to say the least. And it further stressed the dimensions of the manor, since all these partygoers did not find themselves in a squeeze. In fact, they milled quite freely in and out of curtained archways and found more than enough lush couches on which to settle down with their food and drink. Factions tended to cluster together, of course, but the Argus officials and Shizuru's officers worked to ensure the constant circulation, so that all could truly mingle.

She snapped out of her ponderings when she realised that she was being led out of the courtyard and headed for one of the attached corridors.

"Natsuki," she called, stepping a little faster to bring her closer to her bodyguard. "Are we supposed to meet him somewhere in particular?"

The girl paused momentarily and looked back at her.

"Yes," she said. "There."

Shizuru nodded. Natsuki turned again to resume their walk, only to find herself face to face with one of the mummers, who was apparently impersonating a gigantic and drunken toad.

"Oh..."

The Himean watched the mummer, a little entertained, as he acted out ridiculous movements and contortions of his body in front of them, croaking terribly all the while. Then she felt the hand holding hers tighten, prompting her to look at Natsuki. The girl was staring down the performer, her nostrils flaring in incredulity, and then suddenly casting a look towards Shizuru that made the Himean chuckle.

What manner of creature is this, that gloriously royal face seemed to say. What is this thing whose presence offends me?

She squeezed the younger woman's hand to catch her attention.

"Mercy, Goddess," she whispered to her companion's ear. "Send no swine to ravage this Calydon."

Natsuki was quite unable to prevent a smile.

"Be nice," Shizuru went on. "I will try to get us out of this as soon as possible. All right?"

She received a squeeze of the hand in return.

"It is fine," Natsuki told her, getting up on her toes to speak into Shizuru's ear. "We go when you want."

"Soon. I promise."

With a wave of the hand, Shizuru banished the mummer and they went through the arch with Natsuki taking the lead once more. They strode the breadth of the hallway, its red-veined marble leading them to the edifice's heart. They turned a corner and entered a dimly-lighted sitting room. Here the sound of the party was but a murmur, and the room itself seemed empty save for a silhouette sitting in the dimness. There was only one small lamp for the entire room.

"Natsuki, you found me," the person in the sitting room said in a bland, unremarkable voice. "Good evening, Fujino-san. I'm pleased to finally meet you."

Shizuru took her place on the seat opposite his. Natsuki elected to lean against a nearby column, her spare figure almost completely swallowed up by the shadows. Shizuru only felt her move there, her own eyes being fixed on the stranger in front of her. He sat well back, presumably to keep to the shadows, but was nonetheless faintly discernible as a man in a Greek tunic, of modest figure and dark hair. A few more seconds, and her eyes had adjusted enough to the lighting to note other things: he had a quizzing glass on his lap, dark eyes, and was clean-shaven of face.

"Well-met," she said at last, whereupon he smiled. "Thank you for meeting me, Yamada-han."

The man who called himself Yamada tipped his head. It was appropriate, Shizuru would reflect later, that they met in such a shady location, for Yamada was an intensely shady character. It was even uncertain if his name was truly Yamada or not, as research had shown that though there were documents certifying it they might well have been counterfeited. Claiming to be of mixed Himean and Greek descent, he was listed in the census files as having one of the more privileged degrees of citizenship classed under the Extended Rights.

He had supposedly been living in the northern territories of Hime for nearly two decades. He had operated his trade within and without said territories for about the same length of time. His trade relied heavily on transport and navigation, being an agency catering to so many varied tastes that it ran the gamut of Argus for its clientele and served clients in a position only roughly and euphemistically called "specialised acquisitions". Shorn of the euphemisms, it was perhaps best described by the word "smuggling". But then again, smuggling was not exactly all there was to it. After all, given the right fee and conditions, his agents had been known not to refuse other similarly special errands as they passed their routes— "errands" being yet another euphemism, of course.

It would occur to anyone of good sense that a person whose daily activities required an overload of euphemism was most probably not a clean character. And indeed, Shizuru was fully aware of Yamada's illegal activities when she decided to meet him. That was because he provided her with good reason to do so, especially insofar as her military interests were concerned. His agency had years of experience in working as far abroad as the lands of the Mentulae.

Yamada's agents had an overwhelming wealth of experience at navigating the byways and dirt tracks webbed haphazardly through Obsidian's empire, some of them even just as familiar with the popular pathways in those regions as they were with the little-known ones. To a soon-to-be invader like Shizuru, such navigational knowledge was invaluable. This was not only for the prospect of cartographic details and assigning guides, but also for the possibility of non-military assistance and reconnaissance networks. Thus, upon hearing from her primipilus—who had been doing investigations along these same lines—of the existence of such an agency as the one run by this 'Yamada', Shizuru had been quick to see the opportunity.

The only problem had been the question of gaining a meeting with him, for Shizuru had insisted that she would meet only the man himself. The difficulty was that Yamada was notorious for avoiding exposure, often relying on his higher-ranked agents to make contact. It was rumoured that he only appeared himself when the client-to-be was of indubitable significance. There Nao had assured Shizuru she would qualify, and so the situation seemed to have been resolved, with the only remaining task the question of how to extend this invitation to Yamada. Just as they were debating this, however, help had come from a most unexpected corner.

"Natsuki asked me to do this meeting, Fujino-san," Yamada said to Shizuru, who nodded. "I couldn't very well refuse one of my most esteemed clients."

"I see," Shizuru said, making a mental note to ask her girl again about what business she had been giving Yamada. The first time she had asked, she had been given a vague and unrevealing answer that slipped from her mind quickly, given her eagerness to reward the girl for the favour. And now, here was Yamada saying that she was one of his most significant clients. What in the world could Natsuki have been doing with such a character? How had she met him? How long had they known each other? She had a nagging feeling, from the way he spoke of Natsuki, that their acquaintance was not a recent matter.

Yamada was talking again in his unmemorable, terribly prosaic voice.

"Your accent is more noticeable than I imagined, Fujino-san," he ventured, without any real attempt at making his tone charming. He was mindful of the sombre glint in those red eyes. It was his first time to see them so closely, and he discovered that the layers of red in them were flaked, overlapping crusts from shredded rubies. Uncanny! "Please don't interpret that as criticism. I think I could listen to you all day, if you don't mind my saying."

"Thank you. Rest assured that such compliments do not inconvenience me."

"By the way, have you tried the fish stew they're serving tonight? It's good."

Shizuru looked at the bowl on the table, near his open hand. She could discern mussel shells and prawns aside from the chunks of fish, all of it drenched in what seemed to be an orange soup. It smelled strongly of shallots and garlic, and was fairly appetising.

"No, I have not yet done so," she said. "But I believe I may later, upon your recommendation."

He seemed amused.

"It's not a bad idea," he said. "My recommendations are valuable, you know."

"I doubt it not. I would like to ascertain how consistently they earn their value, however."

"They always do." It was no false claim: Shizuru had performed a check on him, and the results were in agreement. "I think you'd know that, Fujino-san, since you wouldn't even waste your time with me if my record had been bad."

She slanted her head to acknowledge that.

"You have checked, haven't you?" he said, eyes flicking to the person watching them. "And I suppose the princess has vouched for me?"

Shizuru did not answer that, choosing instead to look at Natsuki as well. The girl spared a short lift of the eyebrow in response.

She nodded.

"Then, can we start?" he asked. "I'm sure you've many things to do, being commander of a fortification force."

"I detect irony in the inflection," Shizuru noted.

He shrugged a shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Unless the irony is actually appropriate, General?"

"I am afraid I do not really consider myself a credible critic of rhetoric here," she returned. "I did see at least one grammaticus in the party, however, and an esteemed one at that. I daresay she is better qualified to tell you whether your use of irony is appropriate or not."

A small grin came to his mouth, and he dipped his head in acceptance of the subtle rebuke. When he looked up, he was quite serious again.

"As I was saying, I understand you've come to see me in your capacity as commander of the fortification of the Northern Territories," he resumed. "Since fortification means there's something to fortify against, am I right in thinking the first name in the list would be King Obsidian's?"

"Perhaps."

"Their proximity is something to be concerned about, I'd think."

"Not to mention their unrest," she replied. "Of course, any possible act or discussion of fortifying against incursions from them is merely in recognition of potential disagreements, and not operative on a certainty of conflict. Good security lies in recognition of eventualities."

"And our good security is your business, General." He smirked, privately enjoying her caution. She was careful, this one, and a smooth talker. The accent helped too, he felt. Well, all of it helped! Just look at her!

He said: "I take it our business has to do with that, then?"

"Yes."

"How may I be of service to you?"

Against his expectations, however, she repeated the query to him.

"Would you be so kind as to tell me?" she said. "After all, this is my first time as a potential customer in your shop, so to speak. I do hope you shall humour me a little by showing me around and suggesting something among your wares that would fit my taste."

Yamada's dark eyes were narrowing as he sat back: he was beginning to get the measure of her.

"Or, perhaps," she followed, "that was a little too much metaphor?"

He could not resist releasing a chuckle. Oh, was she ever careful! Even more so than he had thought before. That was good: he only did work for people who were careful.

He bent a little way forward, enough to show her his face. He kept his eyes locked with hers the entire time.

"If you want a pitch," he acquiesced. "My agency specialises in clandestine acquisitions and intelligence, as you already know, and runs as far afield these areas as the Mentulaean lands. Given your present interests, it strikes me that we could work out an advantageous deal on the premise of your need for reconnaissance work in our grumpy neighbour's empire, so we know when he's getting one of his fits. You need people that can scurry past his borders and all around them—just to keep an eye on things, of course, and keep you informed—and we have those people. We can pass through his borders and pass right out of them without detection, faster than pure, clean water through a net. And we can get you whatever you need while doing it. Our main service may be listed as acquisitions, but we can provide many other services just as expertly, from surveillance to scouting, according to your requirements."

She seemed neither impressed nor disappointed by the speech. He supposed that was to be expected: word had it that she had some of the best intelligence operatives from Hime's Sulpician Province actually embedded in her legions.

"Our requirements are flexible," she told him. "Are your services the same?"

"Yes, all the way to the extreme points of the spectrum."

"I see. Let it be understood that all intents thus far are strictly non-aggressive."

And it's down to cold, hard business. "It's understood."

"Manpower?"

"Over a hundred, with almost twice that number for secondary assets. Total varies according to tasks being performed, given constant passage through many borders. Sometimes there are fewer on hand, since some are abroad, but all stay in contact."

"How often in contact?"

"Constant updates, reasonable allowances given for distances and weather conditions. If the update cycle is disrupted, we send other agents for reconnaissance."

"And I presume these follow-up agents handle the situation if anything goes awry?"

"Yes, though that's hardly ever the case," he replied blandly. "And when it does happen, it's due to uncontrollable aspects of a situation, like a flood stranding an agent somewhere, without escape. Even so, we have a perfect record for resolving such cases."

"Has resolution ever dealt with issues of management? Such as, for example, defections?"

The beady eyes seemed to harden. Would he tell the truth, or would he not? The standard practice for business was to deny this, but the prospective client before him did not fit any conception of standard. Watch what you say, the twinkling red eyes seemed to murmur merrily to him. Watch it, and watch me watching you.

"Yes," he said after an infinitesimal pause. "Four times. They had unusual circumstances."

"I see. And were they resolved?"

For this he had no need of a pause: "Yes. All four situations were salvaged, and both the problems and the commissions executed. The actual integrity of the primary mission was not compromised."

"Ah."

"I hope you don't let this tarnish your opinion of us as business partners," he said with a thin and rather sombre smile. "Being a woman of authority yourself, Fujino-san, I imagine you know that each organisation has its occasional personnel problems."

She responded with an unexpectedly wide smile, folding gracefully slender and spidery hands over crossed legs. He watched the white fingers come together perfectly, as though each one was meeting its own reflection in a mirror. He realised suddenly that they were not actually as thin as they appeared. Simply, they gave the illusion of being thin only because they were so long. Much like the rest of her, they were in fact very large and powerful.

"It does not put me off, Yamada-han. Rather, it actually strengthens my faith in your enterprise," she laughed, confusing him a little though he did not let it show. "As you say, every organisation has its personnel problems. Had you told me you have never had one, that could only have meant three things. First, that someone has not been checking hard enough. Second, that someone is lying."

A grin spread his mouth. He did not fail to notice that instead of naming him specifically as the one at fault in those two situations, she had opted to say "someone".

"And the third possibility, General?"

She nodded gently.

"Third, you truly have yet to get your share of personnel problems and should be anticipating them in the future—in which case they would most likely fall upon your commission from me." She smiled, closing her eyes for a few seconds. "And since the first such experiences are always the most disturbing, given their break from what was previously a coherent and universal trust in the system, I would much rather not have my interests threatened for the sake of your organisation's learning experiences with personnel problems. That charitable I fear I am not."

He was grinning fully now, his bland face endowed with unanticipated character by the expression. She opened her rust-red eyes and smiled at him.

"Now then, since we are talking about learning experiences," she said crisply. "Training?"

"Varied preliminary schools. Half come from the Sulpician Province," he said, naming Hime's famed breeding-ground of expert intelligencers and torture specialists.

"So at least half are Himeans?"

"Yes." He was confident in answering that, especially as it was advantageous to her. "And the other half is mixed. Syrians, mostly, who've grown up in our territories. Jews too. Practically Himean."

"How practically?"

"Under the Extended Rights citizenship."

"One wonders how those were procured."

"Most of them have mixed heritage," he replied. "I take on only those who feel a, shall we say, kinship with Hime. It's to keep them from going over to foreign concerns because of money." A flicker of deviousness passed over his eyes. "National elitism can be strong glue, I'm sure you know."

She unbent enough to smile.

"It can be that," she murmured. "And what about them? How is their training?"

"Conducted under much the same principles as those from the Sulpician schools." At her curious glance, he went on to explain: "I hire trainers who schooled there themselves."

"And how much of the Sulpician intelligencer's curriculum do your agents take up?"

"The full range."

"Passing all of them?"

"They get booted out of training camp and sent home if they don't. We don't use machines with missing pegs."

"Very well, then."

She exhaled a sigh that gave nothing away except that she was meditating, and leaned back in the comfortable seat of her chair. The cushions accepted her weight carefully, resisting after she had sunken about an inch deep into the padding.

"Well, Yamada-han, it is a most impressive stock you have in store," she said, a little amusement in her voice. "Impressive, though still limited in supply. How many can you dedicate without conflict of other interests to me, if ever?"

"Half, if required."

"Is that figure negotiable?"

"Maybe. It depends on the price, General."

"What is the price?"

He laughed now, obviously cheered by the thought of money. At heart, Shizuru thought, he still was really just another plutocrat.

"It'll be expensive, Fujino-san, I can tell you that."

The word 'expensive' failed to register any sounds of alarum for someone of her means; she brushed it aside.

"Indeed. You may talk it over with my bankers, come to that," she replied with her usual nonchalance over money. "I have no wish to haggle with you at this moment. I am sure my bankers do that well enough for me, anyhow. What I wished to know was whether or not you would be willing to dedicate all your resources to our enterprise's interests."

This time, Yamada let his surprise show.

"That's going to be even more expensive."

Again the rich woman's shrug over "expensive".

"As you say," she said. "What is the answer?"

He blinked, and then his eyes gleamed open: he saw the great, shining vista of chance yawning before him. If this woman was this rich, if she was indeed as immensely powerful as he could feel, then this was the time to bargain for that which he had always wanted. Yes, a perfect opportunity!

"If you add something to bargain, you can consider it sealed," he ventured.

She lifted an eyebrow in query. He came out with it.

"Full citizenship." At her blank face, he said it again. "If you get me—and any possible issue I might have in the future—full citizenship, I'll dedicate all our resources to you, Fujino-san. I won't take any other jobs after that unless the resources can be spared. But your tasks will constantly take precedence."

He repeated the qualifier for conclusion: "Only if you get me the full Himean citizenship."

It took a while before she replied, but when she did, he saw in her eyes that he had pleased her.

"Full citizenship?" she said.

He said nothing, knowing she was merely measuring the idea.

"That would mean you would become my client," she said, suddenly. "I would be your patron."

He smiled grimly and nodded.

Again the pleased, somewhat feline smile from her. Well, and with good reason, he thought to himself. To have him as a client would be very useful to any patron.

Of course, he surmised, he could probably say the same of having a patron like her.

"Then we shall definitely talk again," she said, after a few seconds of smiling at nothing in particular. "To finalise arrangements."

He nodded.

"It's going to be a pleasure doing business with you, Fujino-san," he said.

"I should hope so." She looked at him in a way that indicated the interview was not over yet, and he took the hint. They stared at each other. "Permit me to ask you another question, first."

"That's what people do when they talk to me, General."

"What is in it for you?"

Even in the gloom, she thought she saw the glimmer that passed his eyes, as he smiled at her.

"Why, I thought I'd already answered that question earlier," he replied. "But since I'm assuming you're not the sort of person who'd ask the same thing expecting to hear the same answer, I'd say it's just the standard trifecta. Money, power, sex." He laughed colourlessly. "Though the last one's not as important as the first two. I could live without it."

"Money and, roughly speaking, the citizenship." Her eyes glimmered much like his; only, hers did not lose the flame after the initial spark. "Allow me to put it a little more clearly, then. Are you not concerned about what our probable continued presence—implied, quite clearly, by my preliminary terms in our bargain—can mean for your business? Surely you have considered the possibilities it may have on the environment for your trade, in the long term."

"What do you mean?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows in false curiosity. "What can it mean for my business in the long term?"

Shizuru's smile was charm personified, though her eyes seemed to narrow at his answer. She rose from her seat.

"I see," she said. "Forgive me, but I have changed my mind."

He stood as well, stopping her with a gesture of his hands.

"No, please," he said with a touch of urgency, only receiving yet another charming smile in reply. "Please, Fujino-san. Please take your seat. I'm sorry—that was in bad taste."

She deigned to return, lowering herself with deliberate sloth into her seat. He had returned to his as well and watched her quietly, obviously calculating. It was only when she lifted an eyebrow at him that he finally spoke again.

"That was a stupid joke," he told her with a far more animated expression than he had shown her thus far, his mouth actually loosening enough into a small but sincere grin. He shook his head while talking. "I'm very sorry for that, Fujino-san. It was juvenile and I'm sorry for offending you. Please stay."

She said nothing, accepting his apology with an incline of the head.

"I should've spoken to a woman such as you directly and just answered the question," he continued. "So if you'll be good enough not to change your mind yet, I'm willing to answer you honestly."

"Then go on, Yamada-han," she replied evenly. "You may say your piece."

You may say your piece—you may, he mused afterwards, repeating her words in his mind. Well, he had asked for permission and been given it. But oh, she was a true aristocrat, this one! Yamada had known it all along, had known of her repute even before she had come to the North, but it was still something to meet the person behind the popularity. What he saw justified the esteem, and maybe more. Taller than he had thought, more intensely authoritative than he had imagined. Unbelievably good-looking, if a trifle eerie because of the eyes. He could almost feel a ton of weight behind her too, its ponderous way smoothed by masses of glamour and charm. And beneath all that cultured charisma was what intrigued him most about the very patrician, famously courteous and elegant woman: Shizuru Fujino had a supreme and surprisingly unerring instinct for the jugular.

I believe I'm going to enjoy working for her, he thought contentedly while going about his explanation. A movement off to his side made his eyes flicker to the darkness for the briefest of moments, and he caught sight of two predatory green eyes eyeing him closely, cold assessment in their depths. He returned his gaze to the woman before him, feeling like a man caught between two predatory animals. For Shizuru Fujino was that too, was she not? He saw it now, if he had not seen it as clearly before: the Himean only seemed perfectly refined. She had an intense power of stillness that worked to her advantage, but the more perceptive would sniff something working under it, an evanescent but dangerous scent. It was the impression of a wild and untamed spirit in an exquisitely civilised body.

Is that why you like her, Princess Natsuki?

His eyes focused now on those before him, noting with fascination the way the crusts of those rubies actually bled into each other.

"Of course I'm aware that your presence in this region will be long-term," he was saying to her. "And—I'm speaking on my own conjectures and projections here—the long-term result will undoubtedly be favourable to our side, in which case I'll have acquired for myself a prime bargaining position in securing more benefits and commerce in the new, let's say, balance of power in these regions. Assuming, of course, that you would be willing to bargain with me for that, afterwards."

"Perhaps," she said with a smile. "Do go on. Since we are talking about conjectures, what if something should happen in the future of our association that would lead you to conjecture differently from what you had first thought?"

He smiled crookedly: "So long as I continue receiving my benefits from the bargain, my services wouldn't change, I promise you. Even if I thought the North's power structure wouldn't ultimately end with the Himean side on top, I know it wouldn't inconvenience my continued commerce too much later since my assistance to you would be carried out in a clandestine capacity. They couldn't punish me then, because they wouldn't be able to target me. They wouldn't even know me."

He plucked at the soft cloth of his tunic to rearrange it.

"Of course, it would leave me with a lot of added costs, if we did lose the power struggle—in a manner of speaking," he told her. "Relocating base of operations, setting up again in different locations, forming a new client base. Even with the profit I'll undoubtedly make from our arrangement, throughout its duration, I consider it frankly tiresome and unnecessary. The most benefit would come from me holding strictly and loyally to our partnership and using it to the fullest advantage," he concluded. "That, my esteemed general and soon-to-be patron, is why you can trust me. Besides, Natsuki's fondness for you would hold me in itself. I'm not fool enough to think even I can escape the princess if she wanted to revenge a betrayal on me. She's one of the few people I genuinely fear in these lands."

Shizuru's eyes went to the side: Natsuki was eyeing the man very darkly.

"I see."

She uncrossed her legs, and he knew the interview was over.

"You argue your point effectively," she remarked. "As I said earlier, we shall speak again soon. How shall I get in touch with you?"

He rose to his feet too, bowing to her.

"I'll send one of my agents around soon," he said. "But if we need to meet before that, I think Natsuki can tell you how. She would know."

"All right. Thank you again, Yamada-han. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"And you, General. This has been an advantageous evening for us both," he said with a smile. "Now I'm even more glad I did Natsuki the favour of coming here."

Shizuru halted in the act of turning around, seeming to think on something. Suddenly, she asked the young woman near the archway to go a little ahead of her. The girl hesitated, but finally agreed when assured she could wait just outside the room.

"Is something wrong, Fujino-san?"

Once sure that Natsuki was out of hearing range, Shizuru faced Yamada and walked the few steps necessary to bring her a mere two feet away from him. She noticed his eyes widen a little upon her approach, his chin forced to tilt up for him to meet her eyes.

"Why did you do it?"

His mouth parted, but no sound came immediately. Instead, he took a second to take a slow, solicitous breath of air.

"Do what, Fujino-san?" he asked, perfectly calm.

She spoke just as calmly, and in an even more languid tone.

"Do Natsuki that favour. I have heard that you do not grant interviews with just anyone, that even the wealthiest, most influential plutocrats do not always get to sit with you. Yet it seems almost as though she has summoned you with a single request. It strikes me a touch interesting."

Yamada's dry face suddenly loosened, and she saw that the emotion on it was amusement.

"She didn't pay me anything for this meeting, if that's what you're thinking, Fujino-san," he said very simply. "And she won't be paying me anything for it. As I said, it was a business favour."

"Business," Shizuru repeated enquiringly.

"Good business," he replied, with a smirk. "To show you what I mean, I'll do you a business favour too, since you're now a significant customer as well as my future patron. Here's a hint to something most people wouldn't know, because its so rarely spoken about with anything approaching a confirmation."

She looked at him intensely as he delivered his message.

"Perhaps I'm doing all of this just because I think it's smart business to get along with solitary, uncontested heiresses," he told her. "Even if some of them haven't cleared the cobwebs from their crypts ever since interment."

Having delivered this line, he stepped back and gave her another bow, leaving through a different archway from the one she and her bodyguard had used to enter. Shizuru watched him vanish behind the curtain, which swung gently in the stir of his departure.

She tapped her finger to her own thigh thoughtfully. Solitary heiresses, cobwebs and crypts. Even interment had been mentioned. The man must have enjoyed that little riddle. Unfortunately, she was unsure of feeling the same way. It was but a clue, after all, and not a confirmation: all she would be able to glean from it would be vague and in the manner of a signpost pointing her to the destination proper. It was clear that he had been talking in part about her. But he said it was something most people would not know, which effectively ruled herself out as the direct subject. Could he be talking, then, about Natsuki?

This bears investigation, does it not? An inheritance of some kind, then, has survived from her family? Part of the Ortygian Treasures, I would guess. But his words might as well be indicating something more in the mode of the immaterial, some other form of wealth or power or influence destined for someone in her position and with her ancestry. It bears investigation.

She shook her head as she walked, thinking quietly on what Yamada had told her. She shelved it away, however, upon seeing what was waiting for her on the other side of the curtain.

"Natsuki, my apologies," she said, approaching the Otomeian. "I merely had a final word with him."

The dark-haired girl looking at her keenly said nothing. A torch on the wall nearby threw a shine on the girl's lean shoulders, the points above the muscle leading into the bars of her clavicles and ending in a deep hollow above the flat of her breast. Shizuru touched that hollow with a finger, feeling the small shiver that passed through Natsuki at her action, and seeing the swaying movement that seemed as though the girl would fall against her.

She would have caught her if that happened, but it was a hand that came out instead.

"I hope you were not too lonely waiting for me." She took the offered hand. "We can go now, if you wish."

Natsuki threw a speaking glance at her. "You want to go?"

"I suppose so. Let us see."

They went down the hallway they had passed earlier, stopping just at the archway leading to the courtyard. Like almost all the other curtains, the filmy cloth hung over it permitted Shizuru to spy the scene outside while the darkness in the corridor prevented the scene from spying on her. Through the diaphanous red cloth, she could see the governor of Argus no longer playing the part of her guise, acting more like a gracious—though still rather merry—host than a mad member of the Bacchanal, as went her attire. She could see her officers, from the senior legate to the greenest military tribune, mingling with the crowd and chattering with the locals. She saw that all was well.

She smiled down at her lover and said, "I think they can do very well without us. I have done my part, as have you. Let us leave them?"

Natsuki nodded.

They slunk away through the dimly-lit halls, passing a few other loitering guests and more than a few local soldiers on guard duty. At the entrance—or the exit, as the situation would be—the pair found one of the villa's three head slaves. It was the one who had received them earlier, ready to see them out gracefully as well. His would be the task of informing the guests, should it prove necessary, of who had departed from the party and why. He took the noble Himean's excuse of being exhausted as well as her apologies, and promised to convey them to the host and the governor.

He and another servant had helped the two women with their cloaks by the time they heard the sounds of Shizuru's hired carriage coming up, along with the sound of what seemed to be many other horses.

"That may be your gig, general," he said, stepping back from her and her partner with obvious deference. "And the horses for the guards accompanying you. Will there be anything else?"

Shizuru felt the edges of her cloak flap in the wind as she turned to him.

"No, thank you," she said, and noticed the surprise he tried to hide at being thanked. "But you may leave us now, please."

He bowed even deeper this time, to her as well as to the icy-looking noble near her shoulder. His duty performed, he retired quietly as she had requested, musing on the strange courtesies of some aristocrats. Thanking a slave, of all things!

Shizuru and Natsuki were left alone in the outer courtyard of the great villa, their heavy dark cloaks tight around them.

"The guards tonight are to be from the local garrison," Shizuru told her companion quietly. "The measure was determined necessary by Sakaki-han and Midori-han, given recent points of unrest. Besides, it is well into the night—and what a dark night it is turning out to be! Perfect for bandits or ambushers."

Natsuki hummed in approbation, tilting her head up to look at the sky.

"Moonless," she murmured, the fine angle of her jaw inviting.

"Moonless," Shizuru agreed, her own eyes on the girl. "Perhaps because the moon has come down to the earth to stand next to me?"

The younger woman smirked at the blatant flattery.

"Could be," she said.

Their carriage finally drew up, as well as nine military steeds and their riders on them. Shizuru saw that yet another soldier was actually sitting next to the driver of the carriage, her red army cape wound well about her shoulders.

"Well now," she said, recognising the soldiers accompanying her. They were all veterans from her Ninth Legion's First Century. "Am I right in thinking Yuuki-han ordered the ten of you specifically to accompany me?"

They saluted in confirmation.

"Got to get you home right and proper, General," one said.

"I am sorry this takes you from the comfort of a warm bed," Shizuru sighed. "And I thank you kindly for taking the trouble to assure I get safely to mine."

The soldier sitting next to the driver answered her.

"It's our duty and we're proud to do it, General," she told her commander. "We're working with the Argus military tonight, but our officers get first priority. And you're the first of the first."

Another soldier, a rider, continued it: "Which means you get the first of The First."

Shizuru chuckled.

"Well-put, Hideki-han," she said with one of her more dashing grins, the one she reserved for her most precious rankers. "I thank you for doing your duty so zealously, then."

"Personally, the whole century would've been glad to accompany you tonight," came the answer. "But the centurion did say you'd rather there were less of us, I think."

"She knows me so well." Shizuru smiled winningly. "At any rate, I am sure the ten of you are worth another army's century, so I still dare to say I am overwatched for so short a trip through the countryside. And, of course, you must consider that I have a goddess looking out for me too at my side. Do you know of any bandit silly enough to chance it?"

The others chortled quietly, seeing the colour on the face of their commander's lover. They went silent rapidly, however, when the so-called goddess tiptoed up to whisper something in her charge's ear. Whatever she said lifted the general's golden eyebrows.

"Oh, you too?" she said to the girl with a wondering expression. "How many?"

The Otomeian murmured to her again, and whatever it was seemed to heighten her wonder.

"Thirty?"

The general pulled back to look her lover in the face.

"You mean you ordered thirty of your riders to escort us this evening?" she went on. "Good heavens, Natsuki, that is a lot!"

"No," was the low response. "It is just barely enough."

The legionaries exchanged glances, straining forward as unobtrusively as they could to catch more of this interesting dialogue.

"So they have been waiting for us all this time?" the general was asking the Otomeian, who nodded in answer. "Where?"

The Otomeian merely pointed her chin in the direction from which their carriage and riders had come. Before Shizuru could ask any more, one of the legionaries spoke.

"Beggin' your pardon, General," he said in a distinctively country brogue. "But if I can say, I think we know what the lady means. We were with them back in the stables."

Shizuru looked at the one who had spoken and thanked him for the information, saying his name to show she remembered it. Everyone knew she always did, but it warmed each one's heart every time.

"Easy to remember, those black uniforms," he continued. "There were thirty, a'right, and we could see they were waiting fer something. They were getting on-saddle when we lef'."

"I see." Shizuru nodded at him. She turned to look warmly at Natsuki. "Now I really do feel overwatched. But thank you so much for your concern, Natsuki. Believe me when I say I appreciate it, and I am sure these good legionaries probably feel a little better knowing they have cavalry reinforcements."

She turned her head to one of the men on horseback.

"Does this satisfy your concerns, Hideki-han? I know you had hoped for your entire century here, as you said earlier, but perhaps this shall do?" she asked. "The Lupine warriors are not feeble soldiers, you know."

"Sure aren't, General," he said, sparing generous praise. "They're right terrors, that's for sure. I'm proud to have them with us tonight."

Natsuki acknowledged his compliment for her troopers with a smile. Shizuru addressed the girl again, mist floating from her mouth with each word.

"I suppose they are waiting for us at the exit to these grounds?" she asked, gaze drifting over the young woman at her side, whose eyes were hooded against a gust of wind. She was pale as always, Shizuru thought, and with all that pallor wrapt about her, the black of her fine brows and lashes was a shock.

"Yes," the girl whispered. "They will join there."

"I see. Well then."

Shizuru put her hand on the handle of the gig as if to go in, but paused suddenly before doing so.

"Natsuki," she said, looking at the girl next to her.

The girl looked at her too.

"You are so beautiful," she said unashamedly. And then, without missing a beat: "Come on. Let us go."

The pair of them entered the gig and let the heavy curtain fall back into place, sheltering them from ten highly-amused pairs of eyes. Natsuki's bow and arrow were placed on the unoccupied seat across theirs, within easy reach. After a signalling knock on the carriage's wall, the driver started off, the clatter of their guards' steeds audible around them.

"I hope you will excuse me for not waiting to get in the carriage first before saying that."

Shizuru smiled as she spoke, knowing the younger woman was looking at her without having to actually see it.

"I simply felt as though I had to say it then," she said.

Complacent in their privacy, the smaller female inched herself gradually closer to Shizuru's side, whereupon the Himean snaked an arm around her neck and held her close. They stayed silent this way for a while until they heard the sounds of more hooves: their Otomeian escort had joined them.

"Shizuru?"

"Yes?"

"Tired?" was Natsuki's enquiry.

"Not very, strangely enough. Are you?"

A sound of denial.

"Ah." Her fingers pinched the girl's ear. "Your ear is cold." She covered it with her palm, hoping her hand was warm. "Are you all right?"

"Mm."

"Really?"

A firm point of contact found her shoulder: Natsuki's cheek.

"Warm now," came the answer.

Shizuru was loath to alter their position after that, but nonetheless decided to ask the girl to move a little first, without explaining why. Her intentions were made clear anyway when she unfurled the cloak wrapped about her and draped one side of it over the other woman, taking the other side for herself. They snuggled under the burgundy cloth, close together.

"Better?"

Natsuki nodded.

"Why did you ask if I was tired?"

"You mounted so fast," Natsuki responded, flicking green eyes in the gloom to indicate the interior of their carriage. Suddenly she straightened. "Is there hurry? Something is wrong?"

Shizuru drew her back in. Again she felt the weight of the young woman's cheek resting on her shoulder.

"I'm fine, worry not. We are going directly to the gubernatorial mansion and then our quarters now," she said. She couls smell the top of her companion's head: it smelled of the fragrances from their bath and—as always, which fascinated Shizuru to no end—of new pine. How did the Otomeian keep her hair smelling that way? It was almost as though she went prowling about the woods at dawn, each day. "We are done for the day, thank goodness. Do you want to go somewhere else, though?"

A sound of denial.

"All right, then."

A short silence passed.

"It was not unpleasant today," Shizuru eventually said, rubbing her cheek against the top of Natsuki's head. "My work, I mean. But everyone was full of talk and politics and talk yet again. And all I really wanted was to be with you. You are perhaps the one person here whose company makes me feel as though I am not at work again."

She felt the warmth blossom on her shoulder and knew the other woman was blushing. A hand took hers and began to play with it, pulling and pinching at the fingers gently. She let her hand stay limp for the most part, but every now and then pinched back. Later, she pulled up the smaller hand and held it to her lips before returning it to her lap.

A few seconds later, she felt something tugging at the ribbons holding up her hair. She looked down. In the greyness, two big and liquid-green eyes regarded her mutely.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Natsuki smiled.

"This tie," she said. "Your hair, maybe?"

She consented. The fingers continued their work until the cords gave way, and then her hair was released. It settled in rich golden waves over her shoulders and her back. She felt a hand gather and move it to the side, towards the shoulder where the younger woman's head rested. Then came the long, deep breath Natsuki took when the blonde locks were near her nose. It was a breath that spoke of a long day, a low and whispering desire to inhale something familiar and comforting. It sounded like a sigh of relief after so much raucous alienness, and it was then that the Himean felt a twinge of guilt.

"Meum mel, I am sorry I am always rushing around," she said, remembering the way Natsuki had been watching her today: watching everything and anything with electric fastidiousness that bordered paranoia. Some part of Shizuru had sensed it, in days earlier, but had almost forgotten. Ever since her avowal of suspicion about something dark shadowing her, a confession she made to the governor eight days past, Natsuki had been like this: eagle-eyed and as tautly alert as their adopted panther when it was scenting prey nearby.

The first few days, Shizuru had thanked her but cautioned that she need not be so alarmed of surprise attacks, as they were highly unlikely to come in such a form; the older woman expected any trouble to come through less direct means, such as through politics. As the days wore on with no sign of relaxation from Natsuki, however, Shizuru had eventually grown to reconcile herself with it, choosing instead to regard her lover's efforts with amusement. Now she realised that she might have grown too contented in that amusement. How could she have failed to remember that, uniquely capable as her girl was, she was still capable too of exhaustion?

"Forgive me," she said again before Natsuki, now sitting straight, could protest. "I promise that tomorrow shall be better. I did promise it would be only the two of us, after all. Tomorrow we shall have the day all to ourselves."

She thought of the things she had planned for the promised tomorrow, which had taken her all of this past week to arrange. How much she had put into them! It was perhaps only natural that she should feel a pang of disappointment in her next words.

"But if you think you are too tired for our little outing tomorrow, it is fine if we postpone it," she said, keeping her voice level. "It is no matter if we put it off for a little while, and simply rest in our room."

The firmness of Natsuki's answer both worried and relieved her: "No."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes. Tomorrow." Then, as if figuring out what would be most reassuring to Shizuru: "Please. I wish to go."

Shizuru suppressed her sigh, releasing the breath of relief through her nose instead.

"I see." She pulled Natsuki close yet again. "Thank you. I promise to make it worth your while."

Once they had settled into their former positions, it became her turn to lift the other's hair with loose fingers. Because there was absolutely no curl to the girl's hair, however, the strands poured down again almost as quickly as she had gathered them.

"So black," she said. "You know, I have always loved black hair."

Natsuki looked at her from the corner of an eye. Shizuru caught the flash of humour in the emerald depths before they slid away.

"One of the dancers earlier," said a voice Shizuru thought had all the depth of aged wine. "One of them, she had it too."

She had to smile.

"Really?" Again she took up the dark mane and let it spill from her clutch. "She had black hair?"

"Mm."

She paused when a thought came to her: Natsuki had seemed to be watching the performers very closely all night. What disturbed her about this was that many of those performers—the dancers, to be precise—had been quite good-looking, their beauty accentuated by exotically-made-up faces, and hair and skin sprinkled with golden dust. They had been cosmetically good-looking, in fact, in what Shizuru fancied to be close to the Otomeian fashion.

And Natsuki had been watching them all evening.

"Natsuki?" she began in a neutral tone, desperately trying not to scowl. "You were watching the performers?"

"Mm-hm."

Of course she would—that is what you do with performers, Fool!

"Did you see anything interesting?"

"Mm... ohh. Oh, yes."

"Well. Well, now." She tried to keep what she was feeling out of her voice. What was she feeling? Her stomach was restless and felt empty, as though it were sinking. "Which or who was it?"

She heard a brief purr of obviously lingering delight.

"The boy," Natsuki said.

Shizuru nearly leapt out of the carriage, ready to kill the boy.

Natsuki continued quite happily: "With the wolf? Ah, the wolf I liked very much."

The swelling murder in Shizuru's breast was suddenly arrested.

"Remember?" Natsuki was saying with a smile, looking up at her now. She seemed to have interpreted Shizuru's abrupt stiffening in quite a different way from the truth. "You saw too. The wolf was trained very well. It was interesting, no? The wolf was beautiful, Shizuru."

Shizuru stared at the girl, who seemed blissfully unaware she had almost perpetrated a violent homicide for the wolf's owner.

"Not the dancers then?" she said slowly. "The wolf with the tricks, was it?"

Natsuki nodded with unusual cheerfulness.

"That one. With the ring." She made a face. "The dancers I did not like so much. They came too close to us, too many times. Should stay in their dance area."

So that was why she kept watching them so closely. Still, about that boy with the wolf.

Shizuru narrowed her eyes, although her lips did produce a smile.

"Well, then, the wolf," she pressed. "You liked the wolf?"

She received a slightly puzzled look from Natsuki, who sounded affirmation. The puzzlement was due to the fact that she had been saying this for some time now, after all, and it was unlike Shizuru to press for confirmation of something already so firmly established and confessed.

"And the boy himself?" Shizuru said next.

This time, all the Himean received was a careless shrug. Not entirely sure she liked that answer, she followed as nonchalantly as she could with another query.

"Yes, I remember the wolf," she told Natsuki. "But dear me, I seem to have forgotten the boy! What did he look like again, My Dear?"

Natsuki turned her eyes upwards in an effort to remember.

"I think... long hair," the girl said eventually, twisting her lips into a slight frown. "And he was short."

"Indeed, indeed. What else?"

Natsuki frowned a few more seconds before finally turning a helpless grin to her.

"I am sorry, Shizuru," she uttered. "I do not remember well. I was looking at the wolf. I am very sorry. Why, it is important?"

The rusty eyes seemed to blink merrily at her as Shizuru shook her head, chuckling strangely to Natsuki's ears.

"No, I was merely curious," the Himean said. "Fool that I am. Do not worry about it."

Shizuru pulled at a lock of the younger woman's hair once more. A pair of emerald eyes turned to her and she wiggled her eyebrows, back to her old self.

Natsuki smiled.

"Black hair?" she said.

Shizuru smiled back: "Black hair."

They chuckled.

"So then," she started, recalling their interrupted conversation from earlier. "One of the dancers had black hair, did she?"

"Yes."

"But not like this, I suppose."

Natsuki stirred gently.

"Ah yes," murmured the young woman, not without playfulness. "A little like, I think."

Shizuru gave into a laugh and finally dipped her head, burying her nose into that wonderful dark hair smelling of frost and the dewy fragrance of The Hunt and of new-shed pine.

"Never like this," she insisted, speaking against the warm scalp. "There shall never be hair to compare to this."

She moved; her mouth drifted to one tellingly hot ear and spoke into it.

"Whenever I hear 'black' now, I think of this," she told her lover. "I said that I have always loved black hair..."

She gave the reddened ear a soft, suctioning kiss.

"But I have never loved black hair as much as I love this."

She was silenced after that by a pair of soft, very plump lips. She purred when they sucked on her underlip before letting go. She would have leaned in for one final press of their lips had Natsuki not beaten her to it, laying a softer, lighter kiss on her mouth before going back to nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

How nice to have this, Shizuru mused as she stroked her companion's back. How nice, too, to have a little silence again. She had told Natsuki she was not tired and it was true, but only insofar as her physical being went. Her spirit, however, was a little wearier. What she said earlier to her girl was true: she had been tired of all the talk, all the silly shop-chatter she had to perform simply because some fools had set the precedent only weeks ago for the province's first truly political genocides. The anxiety generated by the Mentulaean killings had been longer-lasting than the killings themselves. This did not mean that the direct effects of the murders were temporary—those who were killed always stayed killed—but, rather, that the Mentulaean killers did not stay Mentulaean killers for long, having been dealt with by the governor.

The trouble was that the murders might have stopped, but the suspicion and doubt they sowed continued to take root. A fatal thing for such a many-peopled, multi-cultural province as Argus. Said province also happened to have an army in residence at the moment whose only disclosed goal had been announced as "safeguarding the northern provinces of Hime and her allies, against such threats as may prove imminent". In a situation of heightened paranoia and suspicion, unfortunately, nearly everything could be a threat—and nearly every threat could prove imminent.

Which is why, of course, I have to smooth feathers yet again, she thought with a wry smile, knowing that her presence had been required tonight. Not only was she the commander of the wintering army, she was also—and this was just as important, if not more so—Senator Shizuru Fujino. The same principle applied to many of her officers, in particular those with established names in Hime's political hierarchy, such as the also well-born and extremely wealthy Suou Himemiya.

And there is yet another reason I am feeling nervous these days, Shizuru admitted to herself, imagining two chilly blue eyes staring at her: Suou, or her last conversation with that woman. There had been a dialogue fraught with nerves! On her part entirely, of course. Her attention slid completely to their past conversation now, recalling what had happened from the time she first admitted her apprehensions about Suou's advice a week ago.

"It is hardly so simple and straightforward a matter," she had confessed to the Himemiya, her brows coming together in a frown. "Even if I do feel that way about her, I cannot simply come out and encumber her with such a declaration. I am unsure of her feelings about it, and I cannot possibly just—just launch such a surprise at her. I consider this, ah, love, a significant and weighty word—not something to be taken lightly—and I am certain—I am most certain—Natsuki considers it so too. She is a person of great gravity in her own way, Suou-chan."

The reply had been something unexpected.

"I'm sorry," Suou had said, "but could you repeat that?"

Apparently, Shizuru's voice had progressively lowered throughout her speech so gravely that by the time she ended, Suou had needed to lean a good way forward to hear anything at all.

"Pardon?" the younger patrician had repeated. "I didn't hear you very well."

Shizuru had leaned forward too and answered in a stage whisper.

"I said, what am I to do if she dislikes it?"

"That must be the silliest thing you've said yet," Suou whispered back. "Why would she?"

"It may be an imposition."

"Allow me to recant—now that is the silliest thing you've said yet."

The reply had been an exasperated intonation of her name, followed by a giggle from Suou.

"Pardon me," Suou had explained afterwards. "See, I was half expecting you to say another, even sillier thing to break your record. Instead, you said my name. Pity, that would have been perfect."

"I did break my record," Shizuru had hissed dryly. "That last thing I mentioned is the silliest thing yet."

"How mean. Anyway, do you really think that? That she might feel it an imposition for you to speak your affections?"

"Yes!"

"Hmm." Suou had paused and frowned lightly at her. "Incidentally, you do know we look like two amateur saboteurs planning something suspicious, right?"

That was when Shizuru realised that they had both half-risen from their seats to lean towards each other over the table.

"I—yes, I know," had been her uncomfortable answer after a moment's pause. "But how else can we be sure no one overhears us?"

"Well, I could sit over there."

"On the same bench? Two people drinking at a table rarely sit on the same side. It would be strange!"

"More so than this?!"

Shizuru blinked.

"Shall we sit?" she then invited.

"Yes, let's."

And so they sat.

"Well," Shizuru had remarked, rubbing her thighs. "That was uncomfortable."

The other woman had been looking around when she said that, and suddenly emitted a stifled exclamation.

"Oh, there's a stool by the corner table! We might take that and place it by this side—" She indicated the end of the table perpendicular to Shizuru's. "—so I can sit closer to you."

"Yes, that sound good. I shall get—"

Suou cut her off, rising swiftly and motioning her to sit back down.

"No, sit, I will," she said.

Shizuru had taken her seat at Suou's wave, but nonetheless made to rise again.

"But you are doing it for my sake," she said, rear hovering over her bench. "So I should—"

"No, sit, sit. I'm going already."

And so Shizuru dropped into her seat once more. By the time other woman returned with the stool, she had a dry remark ready.

"I never realised," she noted. "How much of a toll secrecy takes on the thighs."

The two of them laughed; Suou dropped chuckling onto the stool she had just brought up.

"It's you," the fairer woman remarked with one of her gentler smiles. "You're being very silly today. I wish Chikane could see you. Actually, I wish all of Hime could see you."

"You seem to have little regard for my poor dignity, then."

"Oh, no. It's simply that you seem so human right now. It's actually quite disarming."

"Why, do I not seem human to you generally, Suou-chan?"

"Speaking for myself, I can't really say. I was trying to speak from the perspective of the common."

Shizuru found herself compelled to giggle at that.

"What a term," was her retort in a voice thick with humour. "The common."

"Yes, them. At any rate, shall we return to our topic?"

That returned Shizuru's apprehension in a flash.

"Oh, well, I suppose so," she murmured, lowering her voice yet again as she inched herself closer to the end of the bench and nearer Suou's side of the table. "What was it that we were saying?"

Suou placed an elbow on the table, propping up her chin with one hand.

"We were saying you should tell her," Suou replied with unmerciful frankness. "I say it again now. Would it be the end of the world if you did so, Shizuru-san?"

The response was accompanied by a rueful sigh: "I doubt it, but under the minute possibility of such an outcome, would it be wise to hazard precipitating that event?"

The Himemiya grinned.

"People say the world will end eventually," she rejoined, her normally clear voice acquiring a slight husk from having been dropped to its lowest, still-audible register. "Nearly all the religions have it so, I should think, and accept it at some point. Delaying what's inevitable shall not help you escape. It's just cowardly postponement."

"Suou-chan," Shizuru replied with a strained voice, obviously envisioning such end-of-the-world scenarios for the venture they were discussing. "This is not helping me!"

"Oh. Right. Right, I'm sorry." The other woman cleared her throat. "Would it really be so bad, Shizuru-san? To just tell her?"

"Would it really be so bad not to?"

For that query, Shizuru received a stare that seemed to ask if she had lost her mind.

"What—you really don't want to tell her?" Suou demanded. "I believe I don't even need to answer your question, because I'm assuming you said it out of desperation; we both know that it makes a difference. So at least tell me if you don't want to let her know how you feel. Because if not, then all of this is pointless."

"I do want her to know, I would like to," Shizuru responded. "But it is simply that, well..."

She trailed off there, grimacing in silence when she found herself at a loss to express her meaning. The other woman seemed to sense her frustration and kept quiet.

"Ecastor!" she eventually burst out in irritation—not for her confidant, but herself. "Oh, Suou-chan. It is such a—a thorny issue."

"Yes, I can see it is," Suou answered sympathetically. "But, I suppose we are nevertheless discussing it because the only way to pluck a true rose is to brave the hedging thorns."

The irritation disappeared from Shizuru's face at that, replaced by a thoughtful smile. Suou returned it with an even more languorous one of her own, her pale and well-formed lips curling knowingly. She had surely known that letting loose a clever and suitably romantic bit of witticism would appeal to her friend's literary sensibilities long enough to make Shizuru forget her momentary inarticulacy. One could trust a true rhetorician—or romantic!—to be disarmed that way.

"True enough," was Shizuru's answer. "And such thorns they are."

"Are they?"

"Mmm."

"May I say what most of it is, if you won't?"

"If—yes. Yes, if you wish."

"You're afraid that she might not feel the same way."

Oh, the desolation in your eyes, Suou's own amazed and apologetic gaze had seemed to say after that. For Shizuru responded with a reflexive rasp, like a person grasping for a breath in thin mountain air. She looked so helpless at this new challenge that she seemed suddenly like a child, and that was enough to make her friend almost regretful for saying what she had. Shizuru schooled her countenance too late as well—far too late to make the teetering apology in the other woman's eyes go away.

"It is rather upsetting," she finally managed to say later with classic understatement, praying her own expression did not belie the subtlety of her phrasing. "What then, Suou-chan? I cannot—that is, she has never said anything of the sort to me either. Had she expressed such a declaration as we are proposing now, before, this would be much easier. But it is not so. Why, indeed, now that I think on it, I cannot even be certain that she feels whatever it is she feels for me with the purity I would ask of her. I cannot deny it makes me a little less optimistic than I would like to be."

"Now that is indeed the less optimistic way of looking at it," Suou returned, just as quietly. "In fact, it's sheer pessimism. See, your girl is not really the saying type. It seems to me she would find it easier to show it—until you actually find the gumption to prompt her by saying it first, that is."

A little of the dejection seemed to lift from Shizuru's face.

"Is it possible?" was her hopeful—and trying desperately not to be hopeful—whisper. "Do you think so, Suou-chan?"

"Yes. A reluctant one in the Word." Suou paused and opened her eyes at her friend. "Tell me, then, and truly: would you say it to her now if she said it to you? Do not object to the situation—it's hypothetical. Would you confess to all you feel for her?"

Shizuru exhaled a drawn-out sigh.

"If she said it, I suppose I would," she admitted. "I would. Yes."

"There you are. So, ultimately, the two of you are only waiting for each other. Unfortunately, Shizuru-san, I'd say we are in agreement that your famed Sphinx would likely hold out longer even than you, patient as you may be. Thus it falls upon you to take initiative."

Again another feelingly drawn-out sigh.

"I suppose so," was Shizuru's answer. "And yet—yet I cannot help but keep worrying, Suou-chan. I mean, even if she does say it, what if she does not feel it?"

That elicited a puzzled, obviously disagreeing look.

"Would she say such a thing if she didn't mean it?"

"Natsuki? No, I think not."

"There."

"But that is the root of all worries. What if she does not feel it?"

The misery rushed back into Shizuru's eyes, the powerlessness she felt before this dilemma clearer than ever. Had she not been herself, really and truly herself, she would have been tearing at her hair.

"I would like to be confident, Suou-chan. I truly would," she said in an impassioned whisper. "But I cannot. For all I know, it would translate to unfounded arrogance. I cannot arrogate her—her feelings for me to myself. She is such a riddle! Sometimes, when I begin to imagine I understand her already, I discover myself duped. There is no certainty at all, not even in myself—for indeed, how am I to be sure that I am true in thinking this is what I feel, this is what I would like to tell her? Even I must ask that of myself. I am aware you think me a weakling in this affair, but—but you cannot imagine how frightening it is! I have faced down whole armies with unfamiliar monsters on unfamiliar territory. But never have I faced anything this frightening."

She fell quiet after this fervent speech, dropping her gaze to the table. When she did raise her eyes again, she looked up to find the other woman regarding her with a soft expression that was unbearably close to pity.

"Oh, Shizuru-san," was the other patrician's answer. "I see, I really do see it must be frightening. I'm beginning to understand now that the first time always is, especially for people of your and my sister's ilk. But if you really need convincing, all you need do is look at her, I think."

"But I told you, Suou-chan—"

"Just do it now, if you have the courage. Just—look—at her."

The other blonde's pale blue eyes, so like the core of a glacier, seemed to melt then into a resolve that brought to mind the onrush of ice in an avalanche. Shizuru felt suddenly the willpower that often lay frozen, dormant in other woman. It took her by surprise, she had to admit later; she had forgotten, due to that façade of supreme indolence, just how strong her old friend could be. It was then that she remembered that Suou was someone who had had a lifetime's practice of standing beside and up to an awesome sister.

"Do that much, at least, if you can't work up enough common sense to see what I mean," the Himemiya persisted. "Look at her now and think on what you see, for god's sake."

And Shizuru felt herself compelled; she let herself be carried away be the magnetism of another, for once, and finally turned to the doorway.

Look at her, she unconsciously repeated in her thoughts, gaze riveted on the young woman waiting just outside and scratching her heels on the frozen sand near the door. She continued watching as that young woman moved, walking a few steps from one side of the doorway to the other but never disappearing from view. That called to mind a hundred memories, for some reason, that Shizuru had found herself replaying in her mind like a flickering tableau.

She looks so young, she thought at that precise moment of the girl's motion, and she moves like a colt. She looks somewhat like a colt, in fact, with her long-legged, slightly adolescent appeal. I see that. I have seen her ride like she is part of one, too, and that is why it is even more remarkable that she does not walk with her legs curved, in the bowlegged manner of those living in the saddle. That is because she is only half colt and the other half is all cat. Oh, just look at her!

She turned fully then, still in her seat and barely aware of her friend looking at her as she herself looked at Natsuki. She might have tried to tear her gaze away and acknowledge her friend again, resume their conversation, but she knew it would have only ever been a try, and a futile one at that. Her eyes, her head, her heart—everything in her insisted that she should, for just a little while longer, keep looking.

So I look at you, she uttered to her girl in the secret hush of her mind. She told me to look at you but she did not know how dangerous that was—because I feel I could keep looking forever.

Natsuki was so raw and beautifully animal, she thought. As though she could kick up her heels at any second and just run away forever and never be caught. But everything, even the wildest animal, had a match, and Shizuru liked to believe—she would like to become—the girl's match. She wanted nothing more than to keep looking at the girl as the latter poised and ran. It was certain that she also wanted possession of her, but she did not want to cage her, she did not want to kill that free and untamed stride the girl had. She wanted to look at her in her freedom, knowing that the girl would only ever be running, ultimately, towards her.

And yet she found it to be painful to keep going, just to keep thinking all of that. Was it normal that doing merely that, just looking, should hurt? But the situation and that young woman by the door were not even remotely close to normal, on second thought.

Vertigo was the word, perhaps. So many things, former fixities, she realised, seemed to be rearranging themselves.

She looked at her. And it seemed that she was looking not only at her then but at everything of the girl she had ever seen. It was in looking that she understood a great many things, really, or at least began to understand them. She saw, for instance, that the girl acted with great poise while undertaking a duty given to her because she was comfortable with what she was and what was expected of her during those times. But Shizuru had seen her move awkwardly too when placed in a situation where she could not hide in functions, as though something invisible under her skin embarrassed her. Shizuru would never agree that she had any possible reason to be embarrassed but could not fully protest against it either when the effect of the embarrassment was so charming. She had to admit to the enjoyment she felt whenever Natsuki looked like that, red-faced and mortified by something inside her; but she had to admit too to the grief of seeing the girl so pained by shame.

It was then that she had saw it in full: the variety of feelings the young woman evoked in her, the sheer range and novelty of them. It was confusing at times, for there were occasions when she was conscious of a great and overwhelming tenderness, a profound desire to care for her and protect her and render her safe from all ache. Yet and often at the same time, she would feel a craving for her so extreme that she would actually bite her, experience a need to take her between the teeth, crush her in the arms, and reduce her into a limp, broken-down piece of frailty. Sometimes the twin-yet-opposite needs showed, especially when they were alone, and she would find herself trying almost frenziedly to impale the other woman into screaming from exquisite and painful ecstasy. Then, afterwards, she would hold her with a kindness she had never before known herself to possess, as though trying to atone for the earlier hurt. She, who had never even imagined holding anyone, much less so hurting them! Everything was in confusion.

And then came Suou's whisper, too soft to break the spell, yet clear enough to infiltrate it.

"Yes," said the other woman. "You see?"

And Shizuru saw. Oh, she saw and knew it; she knew she had been falling into that abyss all along. But knowing something did not mean you could stop it, especially when it was something that you had never faced before. She had never faced this before, so she had been unable to identify it honestly at the start. But when had it started? It could have been from the very first time they met! Even now, she could not think back on the first time she laid eyes on the girl without a quiver in her stomach, that empty-full sensation she had come to associate with Natsuki. Was it really so? Were her recollections accurate in telling her that, from the moment she saw that heartbreakingly sculpted face, and those lustrous, truly green eyes looking out at the world, she had been completely and hopelessly finished?

That was when she found her eyes beginning to sting—thinking, Why, what is the matter with me?—and knowing exactly what was the matter, which did nothing to lessen the astonishment from it. That too was when the young woman at the door turned to look at her—as indeed she had been doing regularly for some time, though Shizuru did not know it and Suou did. Their eyes met, and both, having been surprised, flushed brightly and looked away. Perhaps it was even Shizuru who had the greater shock at that instant. On the back of what she had been experiencing just then, that was only normal.

"Do you see?"

She found the sky-blue eyes again in front of her, a smile in their depths.

"Yes," she said.

"Will you tell her?"

Shizuru, emotions still boiling, thought: How could I not tell her? But her mouth whispered, instead: "How could I tell her?"

The other woman replied to that with sudden practicality.

"Well, that is a good question. Personally, I feel I would simply just up and say it," Suou answered her friend, who had only begun to recover from her turmoil. "That's rather straightforward, though perhaps not your style."

A few seconds elapsed before Shizuru got herself together to answer.

"No," she determined quietly. "No, I suppose not. Only, it would seem… insufficient. Somehow."

Suou nodded, a pleased smile on her face; she was obviously glad to have overcome the reluctance barrier and get to tackling the real task she had been pushing from the start.

"Then there's the option of preparing properly for it," she told Shizuru, who listened to her attentively. "You might ask Chie-san, since she would obviously have more experience at this sort of thing. From what I know, though, some people—my sister numbers among them—make rather grand productions of it, because they say it helps to better express their feelings if they put work into it. Although, yes, such people usually follow their confessions with a marriage proposal," she finished with a chuckle, only to be surprised when Shizuru gasped and stared at her, looking horrified.

"A marriage proposal?" Shizuru said with indignation. "Suou, she's a mere child!"

Suou started backwards from the forcefulness of this reply. Regaining herself quickly, she then delivered a quick retort.

"No, she's not, and you know it!" she told Shizuru. "She's past eighteen, if I recall what you once told me, and that means she's already within the acceptable age for marriage. You simply forget that because you tend to treat her like a young pup still, to coddle and cosset."

Shizuru was stunned, properly chastised.

"I do?" she uttered wonderingly. "Do I?"

"Sometimes, I suppose." Noticing a twinge of regret flash over her friend's face, Suou hastened to qualify: "Not in a bad way. Not really patronisingly, don't worry."

"But..."

"I'm sure she enjoys it, Shizuru-san. And you do it very sweetly, in a most flattering way. Trust me, most girls like to be fussed over and pampered. More so for her, most likely, because she's probably not had the most pampered childhood, if she ever had one. These military nations!"

"Oh, yes. I see. I hope you are right."

They settled into silence after that, which was broken when Suou's head jerked upwards and she stared at Shizuru. Her oft-languid eyes were wide open and shocked.

"I say, Shizuru-san."

"Er, yes?" Shizuru said, puzzled by the other's face.

"What you said just now."

Another puzzled look from Shizuru.

"Yes, what of it?" she prompted.

"It's just—that's—" An abrupt pause, as though she was thinking on whether to say it or not. "When I mentioned marriage, Shizuru-san, it was just an offhand remark."

This time, even Shizuru's eyes widened until they were the same size as Suou's. The two of them stared mutely at each other, like Gorgons turned to stone by their reflections.

They even opened their mouths at the same time.

"Did you jus—"

"Of course!"

Having successfully finished her remark first, Shizuru then ploughed on to a still round-eyed Suou.

"Of course, I knew that," she had said, with one of the shortest laughs she had ever delivered. "Now, let us continue speaking of the preparations, Suou-chan. I am still most anxious about them. What else can you suggest to me about it, from what you know?"

And so on. What a holy imbecile I can be, Shizuru told herself after that recollection, still so wholly mortified by the scene that she actually had to cover her face with one hand a week after the event. A good thing she was hidden in the dark of the carriage, with the only person who could possibly see her returning blush being unaware of it. Of all the stupid things to say! Why had she even reacted to Suou's little jest about marriage, anyway? Of course she knew that had merely been a joking aside and not something directly related to her situation. And of course her accursed, traitorous, thrice-damned cheeks would not stop blushing, even at this moment.

I should think of my preparations now, really, she decided, not even bothering with the fact that she had been going over them again and again for the past week. Her plans included sleeping in late the next morning, since she wanted both of them to be fully rested for the day. After which, she had arranged for a specially prepared lunch to be cooked by the governor's kitchen staff, to be delivered to their rooms after their bath. She would then present Natsuki with the new saddle she had commissioned for her: a beautiful, diamond-patterned affair decorated with patches of black and maroon leather stitched alternately together. That would give her the pretext of inviting the young woman to try it out, whereupon they would go for a ride. While it was still cool, it was no longer as cold as before, which meant they could enjoy their outing better than they would have some weeks earlier. This also meant they could spend a little more time outside, which she knew Natsuki would like. The girl loved few things better than a good gallop on her steed.

Their path, as she had planned it, would take them up a small promontory outside the city from where they could see the sea and ports to full advantage. They would stop there for a moment of rest and replenishment—they would bring a few rations, of course—and then they would return to the mansion to change and get ready, just in time for a special performance of Euripides' Elektra by the same Greek actors they had seen today. After that, they would go back to their quarters for a private but lavish dinner, whereupon she would present the other gift she had prepared, along with the words she needed to say. All very thoroughly planned, all rather straightforward. All easy and simple.

So why did it feel as though she was about to put a sword to her gut?

A slender finger rose to her face and pulled on a lock of her hair. She woke from her musings and to a welcome sight: a tempting, ivory-skinned face peering curiously at her.

"Forgive me," she said, distracted from her anxiety by Natsuki's expression: verily, these days, nothing else could divert her as easily. "What is it, Natsuki?"

The soft fan of those black lashes, Shizuru thought, was poetry in itself.

"Hnn."

The girl's fingers released her hair; they smoothed the gentle swell of her lower lip instead. She went still for a second, and then smiled at the touch.

Natsuki smiled back.

"You smile," the girl observed.

"As do you." She carried on smiling, anyway, when the exploring fingers dropped to her lap. "What is it, Natsuki?"

Natsuki looked away.

"Your face was worried," she told the older woman.

"Oh. I had no idea." Shizuru frowned at herself. "Was it? Please excuse me for my bad manners."

A finger poked her cheek lightly, barely making the skin yield under its touch.

"Again, the worried face," Natsuki murmured. "You will smile again?"

Shizuru produced a small laugh—and did so while smiling.

"How would you know I was not smiling just then?" she asked jokingly. "You were looking over there, not here, Natsuki."

Natsuki said nothing, merely flicking an amused glance her way. Her hands had picked up one of the ribbons that had been in Shizuru's hair, and she was now playing with it, wrapping the bloodred cord around her fingers. The older woman watched, then began to play with the cord too, tugging at the free end while Natsuki tugged lightly back. They continued to do this absently for a while until Shizuru's ears picked up something that caught her attention: the sound of horses detaching from their group, then returning after a while, only to detach once more and start the cycle anew. Start and stop, come and go. At least half of the Otomeian riders, she realised, were moving in very strange and shifting formation.

"Natsuki," she called, eyes narrowing in thought. "Why is it that your warriors seem to be coming and going from our convoy? I can hear them moving away and then seeming to return, only to leave again."

"Oh, that," the younger woman answered. "To check the way we go, to look out for ambush."

Shizuru pondered it: "You mean several are scouting ahead regularly?"

Natsuki nodded.

"I said to check," she said self-assuredly, looking not at Shizuru but at the cord with which they were still playing. "They will warn if something is ahead of or behind us."

"I see." Shizuru smiled generously at her. "That's very cautious of you, meum mel."

Shizuru lifted her hand, intending to touch the young woman's face with it, but was surprised by its sudden weight. She snapped her attention to it and saw something red coiled around one of her fingers.

"What is—oh."

A gurgle of laughter spilled from the younger woman. Shizuru saw it then: the weight of her hand was due to the cord they had been playing with, which was now wrapped around Natsuki's fingers as well. She blinked at the display of their tied digits, breath catching at the suggestion in the sight.

A memory from her childhood: an aunt telling her that a red ribbon joined the fingers of people meant for each other. A superstition she had long dismissed as a ridiculous piece of romanticism by those who knew no better.

"Shizuru?"

She looked at the girl, who was still grinning at her. Natsuki looked happy and amused. Innocent. As always, she looked innocent.

There was another pull on Shizuru's hand, which fell onto the one tied to it. Natsuki laughed again, seemingly entertained by this small bit of mischief.

Oh, Natsuki, Shizuru thought in awe, eyes drawn irresistibly back to their hands and the cord that joined them. Dear, dear Natsuki.

She returned the younger woman's smile with one of her own.

You do not even know the significance of what you have done, do you?