Happy Rosh Hashanah! I just had to spend three hours sitting in temple. Blah blah blah. . . And I didn't even get to miss school this year! The injustice! Here's the next installment, and though Aiven isn't really in it, I promise he'll be in the next one. Enjoy!
Oh, in case you care, I rewrote the first chapter, cause it sucked. ^_^
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"Aiven kissed me."
I could hear Mariva sit up when I said that. "Aiven kissed you?" she repeated in a strangled voice from where she lay on her bed. I sat up on my own, one the servants had hastily moved into Mariva's room, and fumbled for a candle. Mariva lit one first.
"When?" she asked, glancing at the moon. We had just blown our candles out ten minutes ago; before that she had walked out of dinner after me and we had arranged for an extra robbed in her room. If Aiven or Tullon had a problem with that, they could deal by themselves.
"Three, four hours ago," I confided in the glow of out two candles. I pulled my blankets closer to me. "He kissed me a week ago as well."
"Now she tells me," Mariva said, but she couldn't suppress a grin. "Go on. Tell me everything."
I did; she was still smiling as I finished. "Well," she said meaningfully.
"Oh, be quiet," I said. "Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it."
She laughed, then grew a little more serious. "He's presenting you tomorrow," she told me. I looked at her curiously, not certain what she meant. "Corln told us before I went out after you and Aiven. You're to be presented to the Emperor and his advisors tomorrow. Corln will be there of course, and so will Seer Lauten, who was at dinner; he's one of the head's of the Seer's Council." She made a face. "I wish I knew more about the Seer's Council. They're incredibly secretive about their structure; I do know it's made up of fifty of the Seers.
"Aiven is also going to present and escort you at the ball at the end of the week -"
"What?!"
"Wait a moment. This is what Corln wanted to explain at dinner; but you had to run out," she teased. "At the end of the week, all the Seers, royals, and their encourages will have arrived. The Made-King Sair is throwing a ball to welcome everyone. Everyone is going to act as if nothing is going on," Mariva told me seriously, only a hint of a smile to show how ridiculous she thought this was. "War will not be spoken of openly until the first battle begins."
"Another stupid court dance," I sighed.
Mariva nodded. "Corln will be escorting me, and Aiven you. Corln said you and Aiven should talk."
"Did Corln now?" I teased. "What else did Corln say?"
Mariva mock glared at me, and said airily, "Nothing of interest."
"Did he do anything of interest?" A pillow flew my way, and I ducked giggling. "Come on. Tell me something romantic he's done."
"Unfortunately he's been a little too worried about his best friend upsetting the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin daughter to talk to me about anything other then them."
"If that was true, you'd sound a little more miffed with me," I countered smiling. I knew they had spent a little time together right before she came into our rooms for sleep, undoubtedly when he'd told her about the balls and everything, as there had been no time at dinner.
"Well, maybe," Mariva laughed at me. I listened quietly as she - smiling 0- told me some of the sweeter things he'd done for her.
"You really love him, don't you?" I asked.
"Yes," she responded with a rather silly smile. "I do." She shot me a look, then carefully studied her nails. "When we first met, we argued a lot - sort of like you and Aiv -"
"He's told me repetitively he wants nothing to do with me," I interrupted.
"But he kissed you," Mariva reminded me in a singsong voice. I threw her pillow back at her, and soon we were engaged in a childish pillow battle.
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Corln came to whisk Mariva off early the neck morning, and though she protested, I insisted she go. I sat in our shared room, pacing back and forth, wishing I knew where Aiven was but unwilling to search for him.
"Have you been abandoned too?"
I spun around to see the grinning mage-prince in my doorway. "May I come in?" he asked, stepping in as I nodded. "I was planning to talk with the Sontái ambassador today, but he had to visit a dying friend, so I was put off," he said easily. I gave him a bright smile.
"Hello highness," I said, bobbing a curtsy that was more the mock of one I had performed in Yvonhe then one intended to show respect.
"Hello highness," he mimicked, but with a bow. He studied me, dropping down on a coach across from where I stood. I sat down as well. "So, Princess," he said, "we've been traveling together for he last two weeks, and I hardly know more then a name." He tilted his head, as if waiting for me to spill out my dark, intermost secrets.
I was tempted to reply "you're not supposed to know me," but I resisted. I had a feeling that the more friends I had, the better. I may have smiled repetitively and been flippant back in Yvonhe, but combined with my unusual looks that usually made people uncomfortable, not friendly - or a little too friendly. Instead I nodded at Tullon, carefully studying him. I didn't really know anything about him either, aside from what Mariva said. "I know you're a prince and a mage," I said carefully.
"And?"
Well, he was asking . . . "I know you're a flirt, and spoiled, and vain, but that's about all." I finished bluntly, watching careful to see his reaction.
Surprisingly, he did not bluster or insult me. "True enough." He raised his eyebrows, giving me the same inscrutable look I had given him. "I know you're a princess. I know you're the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin, and beautiful, and clever. I know you were a thief, and that you may have the power to save or ruin the world."
I laughed. So much for diplomacy. "Call me Laeliena," I told him, placing my hand face up. He lay his hand over my wrist, encircling it as I encircled his own in the universal symbol of greeting.
"Call me Tullon," he said with his own brilliant smile. Even if he had not been a mage or a prince, I could see why ladies would be attracted to him.
"I'm not looking for a paramour," I said seriously, though could hardly keep from giggling. Paramour. Nobles came up with the funniest words for some things . . .
He nodded, spreading his hands in a gesture of woe. "Of course not. You have Aiven. How could I possibly compare to the Seer of a realm?"
"I do not have' Aiven," I said hotly, beginning to regret bringing up the whole paramour thing.
Tullon only grinned and continued as if I had not spoken. "Especially not a young, handsome one," he groaned, "with such old, blue blood."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, exasperated. "I thought he was from a farmer family!"
"Well, of course his father is -" Tullon broke off. "You mean you don't know?" he asked incredulously.
"Know what?"
A slow grin spread across his face. "If Aiven hasn't told you, then I'm certainly not going to," he said maddeningly.
"Why not? Everyone seems to know about me, more then I know. Why can't I know about Aiven?"
Tullon just shook his head. "He'll tell you eventually."
"Sure he will," I drawled. "Aiven just loves keeping me informed about things. Did you know that when I asked him about court he said, "you'll find out when you get there'?"
Tullon started. "That's another thing - you don't really know much about courts. And you're a princess!"
Yes, I thought sarcastically, with a scattered people, a conquered land, and no idea whatsoever what being a princess entitled. I certainly didn't feel like a princess.
Then again, I didn't quite feel like a thief anymore, either.
"Mariva and Aiven are supposed to teach you, but seeing how they're otherwise occupied . . ." he stood and bowed with a flourish. "May I have the honor of this dance?" he asked, his eyes gleaming mischievously. Grinning, I accepted his offered hand and he pulled me off the couch. He waved one hand flourishingly and snapped. I didn't notice anything at first; then several changes occurred. The natural light in the room darkened, though the midmorning sun was shining at the window, and the candle intensity increased. Light curtains dropped over the windows. Strains of music reached us, as if it was floating up from the floor below. The melody was beautiful. I looked at Tullon curiously; he was now dining widely.
"This is the Opening Ballad," he announced with mock stuffiness. "To begin with, you hold your hands like this . . ."
Tullon was, as Mariva had said, spoiled, but he was also polite and interesting, as well as an incurable tease. He seemed shocked by my lack of knowledge of court manners, which made him act superior, but when I challenged him to a knife fight - and easily won - I gained his respect. I liked him; he was refreshingly relaxed and didn't spin circles around me with prophecies and secrets.
As we practiced table manners using tableware Tullon had conjured out of nowhere (though they did occasionally slip right through my fingers and disappear) I managed to bring the topic back to Aiven.
Well, why not? I'm sure he and all his Seer friends talk about me a lot. Somehow I think their interest is a little less personal, though. I wanted to ask why Aiven and Tyron disliked each other so much, but I wasn't sure how much a prince would know about a foreign Seer, one of many. Instead I asked another question that had been bothering me. "How long was Aiven a warrior?" I wondered casually, trying to make it seem like I already knew a lot about it.
"Oh, a few years," Tullon replied just as causally. "Wrong fork - use three pronged one. Let's see - well, there were those years he was training, so that's four; he was fourteen when he first went into battle. He was only actually there for two years, though it seemed much longer."
Somehow I doubted a sixteen-year-old boy was enjoying "Fame, glory, battles, women," as Tyron had put it.
"Did he enjoy it?" I asked, and my attempt at sounding uncaring failed miserably.
"Oh, he loved it," Tullon answered, sounding as nonchalant as I'd wanted to. "After, he'd been training for it for years. When he started at ten he never thought he'd actually become a knight, since he wasn't a noble. Just a lowly attendant . . . But then his skill and - other things - changed that." He smiled as I opened my mouth. "No, I'm not going to tell you what other things' are.
"Aiven was a hero, you know. Did all those heroic deeds, went into battle - he wouldn't be knighted for at least a year, but he was as famous as all the royal knights. No, don't use that spoon - it's only for frozen cream."
He went on to describe some of the other things I was doing wrong, before I had the opportunity to nudge the conversation Aiven wards again. "How did he become a Seer?"
"You're asking me?" he said with a laugh. "No one knows how Seers are chosen. The story goes that when he was captured, the old Sontáin Seer appeared to him and told him how to escape, and that he was now the Seer." He shrugged. "Who knows. I don't think that's what happened - I think Aiven was a Seer long before he publicly admitted it. I'd say, fourteen, fifteen. Of course, no one really knows." He grinned at me. "Now, let's talk about you, lady. I know you'd prefer to learn everything you can about Sir Dream, but really . . ." He broke off, grinning, when he saw my face go red. "So you grew up on the streets of Cyri?" he asked, waving a hand to dissolve the dining set.
"Yes," I admitted as we moved to the couches. "But trust me, you wouldn't find it interesting."
He widened his eyes innocently. "How do you know? It might be useful to know how to pickpocket. Lord knows half -" he broke off, flushing slightly, though I could guess what he was going to say.
Smirking, I finished it for him "your lovers do? I bet you find yourself slightly less rich in the morning."
He made a face at me. "That would be another thing about being-street raised. Apart from no etiquette manners, you don't become properly embarrassed either." We laughed. He swept me up into a last dance, one of the newer, more complicated ones.
"Promise me you'll allow me to whisk you into this at the ball," he said as he raised me into the air. "Not only does it give us the chance to show off our impressive moves, but," here he winked, "I get the chance to make myself stand out from all the other royals by dancing with the most beautiful of princesses, therefore making me more desirable, and you, my dear, will have a chance to make Aiven jealous."
I glared at him. "I have no intentions of making Aiven jealous," I said, truthfully. "I honestly couldn't care less about him."
He gave an un-princely snort. "I hope you don't think that's true," he said.
"Yes, that's right," I started sarcastically. "I'm madly in love with Aiven, but neither of will admit to it." I rolled my eyes heavenward. "Lady protect me from bored princes forced to make up love scenarios in their mind."
Tullon laughed, only looking at me knowingly. While I had to admit I spent more time thinking about Aiven then should be needed, any romantic interest was instantly crushed when we spoke. A little less arrogance, a little less sarcasm, would be nice, thank you.
Tullon coaxed me into talking a little more about Cyri as we finished the dance, which he was gratifyingly interested in. I talked more to him about Cyri and my life there then I had to anyone but Mariva, and he seemed fascinated by it. I was afraid he was going to sneak out of the castle the next night and give street-living a try.
Then he led the conversation away from my street life to some of the other things I had done recently; specifically, my magic. I wasn't convinced I had any, but apparently Tullon was. "So how did you manage to bring the rains down in the courtyard as Sontái?" he said casually.
I had definitely not been expecting that. "Um, well," I said articulately, "I didn't."
He raised an eyebrow in a teasing way. "I suppose I just imagined being soaked to the bone the minute you became angry?"
"It didn't have anything to do with me," I insisted, staring at the carpet. I was telling the truth, I silently insisted. It wasn't like I had called for water. Oh, sure. Please, Lady, I would like it to rain at the moment. I scoffed to myself. "I'm not a Mage," I told Tullon determinedly. "It was a coincidence."
He hesitated, before drawing me into another difficult dance I had learned earlier, promising it would get easier with practice. "What were you feeling right before the rain?" he asked in a tone of professional interest.
I sighed. "All right, Tullon, if you insist I'll play along with this, but it wasn't me." I thought back. What I remembered most was the ruined makeup Mariva and I sported, which had sent us into fits of laughter. Before that, though . . . "I was angry at Aiven, who was trying to drag me out of Sontái before I had a chance to stay goodbye to anyone. I, um, yelled. Pretty loud." I felt anger start to resurface at Aiven again, and forced it away. Still, couldn't he have at least tried to be polite then?
"That's probably it," Tullon said thoughtfully. I bit back a smile. For some reason, it always amused me when Tullon actually sounded thoughtful. It was so rare.
And I mean that in the kindest way possible.
"I told you that I felt your untrained magic," Tullon continued. "I would guess - and this is just a guess, mind - that, since you haven't done any other magic since, yours is tied to emotion. You felt strong anger, and so you made it rain. Element-emotion magic is pretty unreliable, but yours should be different, considering who you are."
I tried to arc one eyebrow, failed miserably, and settled on raising both of them. I asked, "And exactly who would I be in this situation? Princess Laeliena or the Daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin?" What a mouthful. Couldn't my mother have had a shorter title?
"Laeliena, of course. The Daughter shouldn't have that kind of powers." He shook his head. "Lord, you must give the Seers a headache, mixing up their prophecies like that. Imagine the Daughter and Princess being the same person!"
I rolled my eyes, being a little accustomed to this reaction. "I know, I know, and I'm terribly sorry a messed their prophecies up. Forgive me for not being born both now and four hundred years in the future - that is when they expected the Princess to show up, isn't it?"
He nodded. "I'd like to try an experiment with your powers tomorrow, if you're not busy," he asked. "In the morning."
I hesitated. I really should clear it with Aiven first, as he was supposed to be taking care of me, protecting me, etcetera. But considering how he hadn't been near me all day, I figured it was his problem, not mine. "I'll try," I said, "But I really don't think I have any powers, not that I can control."
He grinned. "That's why we're experimenting," he said, and promised to come by in the morning. I thought about the rain, wondering if it really had been me, and if I could do it again without being highly emotional. My thoughts trailed to where I had been after the rain, saying good-byes . . . and that made me start. Tullon looked at me inquiringly, but I pasted a reassuring smile on my face. After arguing with Aiven, I had gone to the kitchens, where Johen was.
I had thought about him repetitively on our journey to Bast, but never had I felt such a strong surge of guilt. Here I was, practicing dance steps with a prince, and Johen was slaving away in a foreign castle because he'd followed me. He'd said it wasn't my fault, that I shouldn't blame myself for his bad luck, but I did. And though I had thought of him over and over again, I had never actually done anything. I was a princess, I reminded myself fiercely, as everyone else had been reminding me. Just think of the things I could do . . . I took a deep breath, a plan slowly forming in my head.
Then my deep, soulful resolve was interrupted by tripping over Tullon's feet.
We were taking a break from the dances - I was teaching Tullon how to free himself from oppressors if he was bound and blindfolded - when Mariva returned. With an elegant bow and a kiss on the hand, Tullon left.
"He's not that bad once you get past the superiority complex," I reflected as we munched on the chocolate truffles she had brought.
"Once you get past it or once you ignore it?" Mariva asked carefully.
"Past it," I said firmly. "Not forgotten, or forgiven. "He seems nice - we just have to make him less spoiled."
"That'll take a while."
"It seems like its going to be a long war." We laughed, before lapsing into silence as we thought about the war itself.
"It seems pointless to me," Mariva said. "If you're the one who makes the decision, why is there a war at all? Why don't you just declare who you want to win?"
I shook my head. "I have no idea. It does seem wasteful, though. Maybe they think that they can change my mind, or trick me. Maybe I don't even have a say in this at all. I don't think I decide who the victor is - I think I just strongly influence it."
We thought about this for a moment, before simultaneously shaking our heads. "No more deep thoughts," Mariva said, and laughingly, I agreed. We turned a much more superficial subject.
"What are you going to wear to meet the Emperor?" Mariva asked, and as an answer I hauled her over to my chest of clothes. Digging through the various gowns and accessories I had legitimately acquired, and some of my accessories that I had not so legitimately received, I pulled out a gown of red silk embroidered with gold. "Lady Jainalii gave this to me as a parting gift," I said, laying it out on my bed. "I haven't actually tried it on yet."
"It's beautiful," Mariva said, touching they embroidered designs bordering the slit in the overskirt, and hem. She smiled wryly. "I don't suppose you've thought about accessories?"
"Not in the least," I said cheerfully. "I plan to meet him barefoot, hair undone, and jeweless."
"And I plan to be as far away as possible when that happens," Mariva teased. We smiled, then Mariva sighed. "Then we have to have a dress made for the ball."
"In less than a week?" I said skeptically. None of the dresses I owned had when made for me; I had learned that process took weeks.
"You can get anything in less then a week for enough money," she said cynically. Then she brightened. "And we have lots of money. Everyone loves rushing to accommodate a Seer . . . not to mention royalty," she added innocently.
"Ugh," I muttered, flopping down on my bed. I waved a hand above me and said haughtily, "I am Princess Laeliena, serve my every whim." For some reason, this happened to be one of those random comments that set Mariva and me into a giggling fit. We couldn't stop until the door was banged on, and forced our selves to calm down and act semi-responsible. Mariva jumped up to answer it as we smoothed our faces of laughter. We didn't quite manage it, and we exchanged glances, hoping the guest was a friend so if we randomly burst into laughter, it would be understood.
"Oh, hello," Mariva said in a relieved voice, opening the door wider. "Come in."
I swallowed a scowl. I could immediately tell who it was, and while I was glad it wasn't a random royal or Seer, I was annoyed Aiven would show up so late in the day.
"At least you showed up," I said aloud, glancing purposefully at the late afternoon sun. "I was beginning to think I'd have to introduce myself," I quipped, and watched as Aiven's lips tightened.
Oh Lady, those lips . . .
I was sure I went as red as my hair and the gown lady Jainalii had gifted me with that thought. I couldn't help remembering last night. But, holding to what seemed to be the individual Aiven Manner's, he acted as if the kiss had never happened. This time my lips tightened. He had said he was sorry. It was completely possible that he wanted nothing to do with me.
"Good afternoon, Mariva," he said politely, then turned to me after she returned the greeting. "We need to prepare for your presentation tonight. Come with me." He turned around, and with a nod to Mariva, walked out of out rooms.
I made a face at Mariva. "Can't you feel the love?" I muttered sarcastically, leaving her to laughter as I followed Aiven outside.
