It was really cold on the roof, the kind of cold that made you have to clench your jaw shut so your teeth wouldn't chatter, and then you got a pain in your head, but no-one bothered you up there. No-one else had come up here in a long time. And it would be better once the fire got going. Rafel resisted the temptation to mess with it; he'd had too many fires go out in the early stages because he'd gotten impatient and over-poked them. He'd built it in half an old drum, to shield it from the wind, but the wind got into everything else sooner or later. Once it got going, the metal would heat up, he could pile in more flammable rubbish, and the little hut he'd constructed would get pretty warm if he didn't jostle the walls and open up the chinks. He was looking forward to the way his nose would start running when that happened, which was pretty dumb, but it was one of the ways he knew he was warming up. A hot stuffy room was Rafel's idea of heaven these days. It wasn't that there were no rooms like that in the city, just that he couldn't have gotten into one. He wished he could get a haircut. He wished he could have a shower and put on clean clothes and spend an evening sitting on a couch in an ordinary living room, reading a book or watching the fire or listening to music, and just be normal. He knew he smelled. It was bothering him that lately, he didn't notice so much any more.
If you believe in stupid things like love
Then we could sit in the sun
Let the days all roll into one
How could you take so long to decide?
How would you know until you tried?
Bic Runga, 'Roll Into One.'
'I could throw up an extension in a few days, give us some more room,' Gadeth said, looking speculatively at the cabin from the comfort of the hammock they were sharing, top and tail. 'Put a tank in the ceiling for rain water and we could even have a halfway decent bathroom. I think it could be long-term livable.'
'But we won't get to live here long-term,' Serena pointed out. 'You're still in the army. They'll call you back.'
'What if they don't? What if everyone has forgotten about us forever and I get to keep you here?' He grinned at her, eyes half-closed against the sun. The hammock was slung between two trees near the cabin, but only Serena's end was shaded, the way the light was falling. It was a lazy afternoon sun, slowly coasting down to its bed under the horizon.
'We'll turn into complete savages,' she predicted, a matching crooked smile spreading on her face. 'Look at us already. We don't crawl out of bed until ten o'clock most days, and then we just spend the whole day lying around and swimming and eating'
'And going back to bed'
'And getting up again and wandering around disreputably dressed'
'You're the only disreputable one, young woman.'
'I can't help it if it's easier to just wear your clothes.'
'And very cute you are in them, too, but I view this as a calculated plan on your part to deprive me of shirts.'
'Injustice!' she said, and slapped him on the knee; he tried to sit up and grab her and the hammock turned turtle and dumped them both onto the ground below, that funny mixture of sand and soil covered with loose mats of coarse grass. It wasn't bad to fall onto; it wasn't bad for the sort of play-fight that, with them, could only end one way. This couldn't last long. Serena was trying to memorise every moment.
'I don't understand why it's taking so long to arrange,' Allen said.
'Preparations for last time took months,' said Millerna. 'I'm hurrying this along as much as I can, but organising a formal coronation as well as a wedding can't be done in a day. We need to make it really special, special for everyone. It will cheer people up. And ideally the reconstruction on the Grand Canal needs to be finished first. Don't get that sulky look on your face, darling heart.' She tickled the end of his nose with a daisy; he was lying on his back with his head in her lap as she sat under the white tulip tree in the palace garden. It was a remarkably abandoned attitude for Allen; Millerna treasured every time she could get him to relax like this.
'And I don't see,' he said, not for the first time, 'why you want to get married in the same place again. Superstition aside, wouldn't it have all the wrong memories for you?'
Millerna sighed and poked the stem of the daisy into his hair, along with about six others she had picked. 'It's for the people,' she said. 'They need to see us reclaiming those places, proving they don't have to be blighted forever. And for me well, it's like painting over those memories and putting a new scene over the top. One to last this time. One I chose.'
Allen's frown cleared and he smiled up at her, sweet and peaceful. The late afternoon sun was shining behind her head as she bent over him, turning her corn-blonde hair into a halo around her face, a face that still had a pensive look. She was often sad since her father and sister had died; he would have expected nothing else, but it was good to feel that he was a comfort to her, that he could bring a smile to her lips. It was a power of release: smile answered smile, and for a while the world was a golden bubble around them.
'Van-sama,' Meruru said in an accusing tone, 'you haven't eaten today, have you?'
Van looked up from the reports he was reading. They were mostly dry and told him things he didn't need to know, about reconstruction projects that were ticking over nicely without him lifting a finger, but sometimes there was something pertinent, something he should act upon or show recognition for. And there were always things he needed to sign.
'Of course I have,' he said. 'I had that filled roll. You made me eat it.'
'That was yesterday lunchtime,' Meruru said. 'It's not my problem if you pine for her, but I won't let you starve to death.' She uncovered the tray she was carrying and clapped it down in front of Van, covering the folders and papers that littered the table. Savoury-smelling steam wafted up from a bowl of thick, heavily spiced lamb stew. She had even put a sprig of coriander on top to make it look pretty.
'I'm not pining for Hitomi,' Van said wearily. 'I'm busy being a king. And I'm not going to starve to death. It doesn't matter if I forget about a couple of meals when I'm busy.'
'When do you expect to get less busy?' Meruru snapped. 'You were skinny to begin with and now you really don't look well. Why do you have to read all of that? I could do it and just give you the important parts. I've got nothing to do all day except worry about you. Give me a job.'
'You never used to be so bossy,' Van complained, but he scooped up a spoonful of stew and blew on it to get it to the temperature he liked. 'What happened?'
'In case you haven't noticed, I am growing up,' Meruru declared, and stood back with a flourish of her arms.
Van looked at her. She looked the same as always to him; shiny red-gold hair, furry little face, loose A-line orange dress. 'How do you mean?' he asked.
'Idiot,' she said peevishly. 'I'm growing. I'm turning into a woman and I think I should have more responsibility. And underwear.'
Van looked again, embarrassed. Now he was looking for it, there was, perhaps, more in the top of the dress than before; nothing gargantuan, but a change. 'Well, if you've decided to start wearing underwear after thirteen years, I don't see why you need to tell me,' he said. 'You don't need my permission. Just get whatever you want.'
'I was hoping to shock you out of your stupor with a startling revelation,' she said, 'but you're a complete bump on a log these days. You don't notice anything. I could walk in here with my head shaved and be lucky to get a "Hello, Meruru," let alone "Have you done something different with your hair?"'
Van stirred the stew around in the bowl. It was tasty, but he just didn't have any appetite. He didn't have anything he wanted to say to Meruru, even though he thought she was being ridiculous. He felt vague and distant, which he realised was probably the direct result of not eating since yesterday lunchtime, but it didn't make it any easier to get to grips with realities like lamb stew. He should make an effort. It wasn't fair to Meruru.
'All right,' he said, 'as of now you're my secretary. You can call yourself Lady Chamberlain or something if you think it sounds better. So, um, read these and write me a summary, with notes about anything requiring action from me, and - hey, I haven't finished that.'
'I'm just lifting it for a moment,' she said, holding the tray off the table while she shoveled up papers from underneath with the other hand. 'You won't regret this - I'll be the best little royal secretary Fanelia's ever had. I can do shorthand, you know. Mr Lebeck the scribe taught me.'
'I can't read shorthand,' Van said. 'I want to be able to read this summary, all right? Don't do anything fancy just because you can.'
'Don't worry about it,' she said, carrying her papers to the other end of the study table and beginning to sort them into piles. She hummed cheerfully as she worked, and Van found some pleasure in seeing how happily busy she was as he pressed on with the stew. It was spicy enough to make his eyes water a little, which was just what he liked.
What's her favourite meal? Does she like cooking? She definitely liked vino. I'd make sure we had some of that if she was coming for dinner. If she was ever coming here again. Why would she want to? She'd probably think we'd be having bugs on a stick again.
Meruru watched Van from under her eyelids as he ate, slowly, without interest. He is so pining for her. The last thing he was interested in was the trial in Asturia, and he came back from that looking all mixed up. But what can I do? Bully him and try to look after him. He's really stupid. Someone who loves him is right in front of him every day and he can only think about a girl from another world. My poor Van-sama.
Hitomi took the snapshot and looked at the shiny image of Amano, laughing, swamped in beating wings, a bag of birdseed in one hand. Even from England, he was a very dedicated letter-writer, and Yukari kept receiving fat envelopes with pictures and tiny presents. It was a cute picture; Hitomi couldn't help smiling.
'You may well smile,' said Yukari. 'You're not the one with a gorgeous boyfriend stuck on the other side of the world.' She was teasing. 'You should be more smiley. Lately anyone would think it was you pining for your lost love.'
'I'm fine,' Hitomi said. She poked through her lunchbox and found half a dumpling she had missed. Their favourite seat, under a tree behind the main building of the school, was shady and cool.
'You're eating more. A friend notices these things, not to mention a manager. You don't want to start packing it on in winter, do you?' Yukari leaned back and started sorting through Amano's photos again.
'I'm training more too,' Hitomi defended herself. 'I just get hungry because I'm using a lot of energy.'
'Just don't overdo it. Either way. Girls have to look after themselves.' Yukari glanced sidelong at Hitomi. She was noticing it more and more; when you looked at Hitomi, when she didn't know you were looking, her face was sad, as though that was its default setting. What was she depressed about? They had both had crushes on Amano, and Yukari had been the lucky one, but was that enough to make Hitomi's eyes so wistful? There was something going on that Hitomi wouldn't tell her about; something must have made her decide to stop reading tarot, and something was stopping her wearing her old pendant. Yukari was a little hurt at the exclusion, but she was mostly worried. Hitomi kept training; she was really pulling up her sprint times, and would probably take a medal at the next interschool meet. She kept working hard in school, and had gotten particularly good marks for an assignment on Newton. She kept hanging out with Yukari and their friends, after school and on Sundays. But it was as though she was going through the motions, maintaining a system her heart wasn't in any more. Yukari wanted to tell her, You're not alone. I'm here with you. I'll be by your side whatever happens. But in some way, she felt it wasn't true, and Hitomi knew it.
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