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February 4, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet
Jerykun Island, the Copper Isles
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Lianne woke the next morning to find a small chest at the foot of her bed that had not been there the day before. Inside she found the distractions Hiresh had promised. The majority of the items were books; she was surprised to find copies of several of her old favorites. It seemed like years, not days, before that Lianne had given him the titles of these exact books. The questions he had asked her on their tour, so confusing at the time, had now come sharply into focus. Lianne found she didn't like the implications at all.
Also among the books were several thick volumes on the history of the Copper Isles. These Lianne had absolutely no interest in whatsoever, and though she had no way to start a large enough fire, she unceremoniously piled them on the floor of the stone hearth. All the supplies for needlework also found in the chest - minus the needles, which Lianne carefully hid beneath her mattress - joined the histories soon thereafter. She hoped someone would notice.
In the end, she was left with several books - the vast majority of which she had already read - a chessboard, some playing cards, some paper, and some ink. Seeing as it was extremely unlikely Hiresh was going to allow her to send any letters home, she did not know how to play chess alone, and she generally loathed solitary card games, Lianne wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do with any of those particular items. She toyed with the idea of using the chess pieces as weapons, but found that her throwing accuracy was practically non-existent, and quickly scrapped the idea.
Her best choice to entertain herself, as it had been the day before, was to sit and stare moodily out the window, internally debating crazed escape plans that even she knew would never work. Even though she knew she would probably regret thinking it, Lianne almost wished that Hiresh would just do whatever it was he intended, if only for the distraction.
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January 29, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet
Corus, Tortall
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Jasson had been looking for Lianne for over an hour when, just as he was about to give up, she found him first.
"I talked to Liam a bit ago," she told him, having caught up with him in the hall just outside the library. "He said he had talked with you this morning. Have you two made up, then?"
Jasson looked at her for a moment before answer, considering what to say. "I don't know what he's playing at. He hasn't talked to me at all."
This, and there was no way around it, was absolutely, completely untruthful. Jasson wasn't a bad liar - as far as he could tell, he didn't blink or sweat or display any nervous tics that he was aware of when he told a lie he had been prepared for. There was no reason for someone to doubt the validity of what he had just said, and he knew it. But Lianne would anyway, and he knew that too.
"I give up; you two are both being completely impossible!" Her lips pressed together into a thin line as she said this, and she rolled her eyes irritably. "One of you is obviously lying to me, I don't know who, and honestly, I don't care anymore, either. Never speak to each other again for all I care, but do do me a favor, and grow up."
Jasson watched her turn on her heel and leave in what he personally thought was a bit of a snit, barely controlling the knee jerk reaction to defend his maturity and, instead, standing in thoughtful silence.
The one good thing about having free time, he had realized over the last day or so, was that you really did have much more time to think than you did otherwise. Jasson turned around and walked in the other direction.
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February 4, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet
Jerykun Island, the Copper Isles
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Lianne was slowly beginning to discover that she was not as good company as she had once thought. She supposed that this realization had only just struck her due to the fact that she had been talking to herself more in the last day and a half than she had during the last sixteen years, combined, and had found her own conversational skills rather lacking.
In the last few hours, she had tried to read a book, build a house of cards, pick the lock to the door with an embroidery needle, and make up a rowdy song like one she had learned at the Tree once. To her dismay, she had summarily discovered that she did not have the attention span, the patience, the skill, or the filthy vocabulary needed to complete even one of these goals. Eventually, the window became her only source of entertainment, yet again.
She had saved a bit of the bread that had been delivered with her lunch and crumbled it. The window had a chain on it, and was clearly only meant to be opened just enough for a bit of fresh air to be allowed in. It had taken a good deal of twisting her arm this way and that - and had resulted in nasty scratches along the sides of her hand - but Lianne had managed to get her hand far enough out the window to deposit the breadcrumbs on the windowsill, hoping to attract some company, even if only a bird.
Her efforts had paid off. Now, sitting in front of the window, she regarded the large crow greedily pecking at the crumbs as if it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen in her life - and in that moment, it felt as if it was. The bird, obviously not an unintelligent creature, had been slow in approaching the offering; he was apparently aware of Lianne watching him. Now he didn't seem to mind the audience in the least, and was happily devouring the bread.
Behind her, the lock clicked, and the door opened. Lianne turned in her seat but did not rise, watching silently as Hiresh entered the room.
He looked at her for a moment, then at the chest at the foot of the bed. "I had that sent so you would have something better to do with your time than sit and look at nothing."
"I've read them all," Lianne said, turning back to the window and folding her arms.
Hiresh was quiet for nearly a full minute. "I find that highly unlikely," he finally said, and Lianne could hear him slowly moving in her direction. "If you think that being purposely spiteful is going to change anything, you're wrong."
"Oh, I'm always like this. Maybe you should have taken that Tyran princess, Michela, instead. I've heard she's lovely."
"I had hoped," he began, a hint of anger audible in his voice for the first time, "that you and I might talk."
"And I had hoped," Lianne stood, turning to look at the wall just left of his head with a saccharine smile, "That you would suddenly contract a horrible, debilitating disease. Clearly, we are both out of favor with the Gods."
He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, as if thinking better of whatever it was he had been about to say. It took a moment before he seemed to find the words he was searching for. "I am a patient man, you'll find. I do not mind waiting for you to get used to me."
"Used to you!" Lianne sputtered, and proceeded to detail the likelihood of the idea in language she very seldom used at all, let alone in front of another person.
"I will be," he said, speaking loudly over her outraged, half coherent diatribe, "A fine husband, you'll see."
She stared at him a moment, open mouthed and speechless. "No doubt!" she finally managed, sure he couldn't possibly be serious. "You're an exemplary jailor, after all. They must sing songs about you!"
He looked, again, as if her were about to lose his temper – and then, with some visible effort, he bit it back again. "I'll wait – you'll adjust."
"I'd rather die."
"That would also work, if you insist!" he said, sounding, for the first time, truly harsh.
Not made of stone after all, are you? Lianne thought, and looked dismissively away. She could see him, just out of the corner of her eye, watch her expressionlessly for a moment, then shake his head slightly and turn to leave. He hadn't moved more than a few steps before his eyes, she guessed, fell on the hearth; he turned back.
Hiresh turned back to her, voice quiet. "Those were a gift."
"Oh, yes," She flapped a hand vaguely. "At home, that's where I keep all my useless books."
"I thought you might be interested in reading the country's history, seeing as you'll be living here."
Lianne folded her arms and turned away. "Perhaps I haven't been clear. I don't give a spit about your Gods-cursed islands. I'll be leaving as soon as I'm able, and once I do, I hope they sink."
She did not even have time to process the strong pull on her shoulder that forcibly turned her back again. His palm connected with her face so fast that by the time she registered the pain, her body had already reacted; she was pressing a hand against her stinging cheek and looking at him in shock before Lianne totally understood what had happened.
"You will learn respect," he told her, visibly working to control his temper. "Or you will enjoy a life of solitude. It makes very little difference to me."
He turned and stalked out, the door shutting loudly behind him. Lianne sat back down, hand still to her face. The bird had vanished from the windowsill; she could barely make it out flapping off into the distance.
"Take me with you," Lianne whispered to empty air.
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A/N: 51 reviews! 51! I'm beside myself, I really am. You guys are wonderful; I really have no words. Thank you.
Silverfall: You're right – It is Rubinyan. I'm horribly embarrassed – nearest I can figure, I typoed once and then made the silly mistake of referring back to his name within my own story, not to the book. Last time I do that! . As for Sarralyn, I actually didn't know, and originally had her named something else in the story. Thanks to some really wonderful reviewers, and the folks at the Dancing Dove, I've learned that Tamora's been telling people who ask that her name is Sarralyn at signings, and that it will appear in the next Aly book.
AlmightyChrissy: I'm glad someone else really likes those lines – they're two of my favorite, as well! Oh, Raoul...I pine for you...