Chapter Twenty

It was late March, and Carthak was blossoming. The weather was warm and balmy, and the scent of flowers and trees in full bloom pervaded the courtyards and gardens of the Imperial Palace. The roses were blooming early this year, with even more rich, beautiful colors than usual. Cherry blossom trees imported from the Yamani Isles were sprouting flowers of a startling pink. Jasmine vines had taken over many gardens, much to Kalasin's delight. She loved the strong, sweet scent, and often wore whole strings in her hair.

This time of the year meant only one thing: Spring Festival.

Varice had been talking about it for most of the year. She had begun planning the catering five months ago. Nadareh Iliniat took a break from her continued magical and architectural studies and decided to take decorating the castle for the festival into her own hands. Duke Samjan had begun to tell stories about the Spring Festivals of the Grand Old Days again. Kaddar's squire went around the imperial suite humming the Waltz of the Sugar Plum Fairy and pirouetting at random intervals. Zaimid had presented Kalasin with a bouquet of dandelions every day for the past week.

Kalasin had never been to a Spring Festival in Carthak before, but so far, she had gathered that it struck all Carthakis with something akin to madness-inducing fever.

On the morning of March twenty-first, Kalasin decided that she needed to know answers, and soon. Kaddar had fairly skipped into her dressing room, and completely disregarding the fact that Rhiya was trying to finish doing Kalasin's hair, hugged his empress so tightly that her bare feet left the floor. Kalasin squeaked in surprise and laughter, flinging her arms around Kaddar's neck.

He had staggered a few paces in that manner, before tripping over a high-heeled sandal, pitching them both onto the sofa in a giddy, giggling mess.

Rhiya had watched the entire spectacle wide-eyed. "Oh, you two are…"

"Such an adorable couple?" laughed Kaddar, barely noticing the fact that Kalasin had probably knocked most of the air out of his chest after collapsing on top of him like that.

"I was thinking more along the lines of utterly disgusting." Rhiya shook her head in mixed amusement and disbelief. "My lady Kalasin, I was planning to follow your example of not falling in love. Remaining impervious to a man's advances and adoration and whatnot. Now I have to go to all the trouble of finding a new role model." With that, she flounced out of the room dramatically.

Kalasin choked back a giggle. "Kaddar, your little cousin is so bitter. You and Zaimid probably pulled her hair when she was young, or some such horror. No wonder she finds the thought of love and males so distasteful."

The emperor chuckled, playing with a lock of her hair. "Rhiya, find the thought of love and males distasteful? Let me clue you in, my lady: Rhiya's had a rather deep, unrequited passion for Deva of Singh for the past seven years, and—"

"Deva of Singh?" Kalasin asked, in a hushed whisper. "But isn't he…the…"

"The crossdresser, yes," sighed Kaddar. "It almost broke her heart. But she still keeps hope that he'll, um, lose his fondness for red brocade gowns and green hair ribbons and return her affections. Sad, isn't it?"

The empress was silent for a moment. "I'm glad you're not a crossdresser. You'd look awful in women's clothing."

Kaddar gave her a playful shove. "You're so mindful of my feelings. I could be completely rude and say you look awful in men's clothing, but then I would be lying." He gave her a wicked look. "After all, you wear my tunics very well. And I won't even get started on the way my robe highlights your lovely figure…"

"Oh, stop it," she said, blushing. "Kaddar, do something for me."

"Kally, you know I won't tie you up to the bedposts, no matter how much you plead. After all, I don't want to leave rope scars on your delicate little wrists."

"No, you pervert," she snorted. "Explain why Spring Festival is making everybody so happy. Is it like Beltane or Midwinter over here?"

"Not exactly," he replied, getting up and stretching luxuriously. "Well, kind of, I guess, now that you mention it. It's the celebration of the renewal of life, and also the birthday of our lovely Graveyard Hag. It's hardly harmonious. Last year, wild hyenas paraded through the streets. It's also an excuse to gamble wildly."

"Oh, wonderful," Kalasin said dryly. "Harmony, the renewal of life, and the Graveyard Hag. That's a rather volatile combination."

"You're telling me," he muttered. "In years past, we've had countless complaints of old crones mysteriously appearing at poker parties and taking every last cent away from the participants. Absolutely lovely. And that's before I get started on how the hyenas went into hysterical, loud, convulsions for the entire week. I didn't sleep a wink."

"I weep for you," she replied dryly. "How absolutely tragic. Your skin must have dried from the lack of beauty sleep. Did you have an acne breakout from stress?"

Kaddar rolled his eyes. "Sarcastic witch."

Kalasin smirked at him. "Over-exaggerating drama lover." She rose from the sofa and picked up her favorite comb. It was delicate, made out of ivory, and pearls dotted the handle. The ends of her hair fell past her waist now, and it was getting hard for her to maintain it herself. "Maybe it's time for a haircut," she murmured aloud.

Kaddar reached out and took the comb from her hands. "No, it's not," he protested, beginning to comb her hair out. He would never say it aloud, but Kalasin had the loveliest hair he had ever seen—thick, black, and silky. Touching it was a pleasure; especially since any attention lavished on her beloved mane usually caused Kalasin to purr like a cat. Which she was doing now, making little mumbling sounds of pleasure in the back of her throat.

She knew she was vain, and that vanity was awful and bad. It had been something drilled into her head from a very young age. She just couldn't help it, though…especially not when Kaddar decided to comb her hair. It was something he did once in a while, something that she really enjoyed.

Kalasin tilted her head back a little, absentmindedly wondering where she and Kaddar stood. They were lovers, and friends—more, much more then friends, in a way that she couldn't really understand. She thought back to their conversation of a few nights ago, and flinched inwardly, determining not to think about it.

There was one small consolation—if Kaddar knew that she loved him, he wasn't treating her any differently. She had feared that he would be uneasy around her, and that whatever relationship they had would be destroyed. So she didn't mind that nothing had changed between then and now.

But it hurt, just a little, to know that the man she loved probably didn't love her back.

It doesn't matter, though, she told herself firmly, as Kaddar parted her hair neatly and re-combed the sides. He's kind to me and cares about me, he listens to me, and that's all that really matters.

Kalasin was broken out of her reverie by Kaddar's muttering as he tried to pin her hair properly. "Stop that," she ordered, pulling her head free. She smirked. "Didn't you learn anything from when you used to play with dolls? Never pull a lady's hair and jerk her head from side to side, smart one."

"I never played with dolls," he replied with a straight face. "You should have. It would have improved your people skills greatly."

"I have good people skills," she sulked. I've only sprung 'I love you' on an unsuspecting person once, after all. "I'm charming and gorgeous."

Kaddar got up and stretched, before giving her a smug grin. "Keep telling yourself that, gorgeous one. I'm off to get ready for our last Council meeting before the festival now." And he left, after giving her a rather condescending pat on the head.

Kalasin sighed and hugged herself, feeling suddenly exhausted. Maybe it would be better for them to go back to the way things were before she started to have…feelings for him. Emotions made everything so much more complicated.

And as for dealing with the succession and everything else—it could just be…mutual comfort. No strings attached.

Kalasin knew that this was the easiest way to deal with what she felt. It would be best for both of them, and for the nation. Carthak didn't need a lovesick, unstable Empress.

Her decision was sensible. It was reasonable. And it left a lingering bad feeling in her mind.

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In the next few days, Kaddar noticed a slight change in Kalasin's behavior. She could be bright and happy, sarcastic and witty, and just plain broody. The moods themselves weren't unusual.

What was unusual was that her bright happiness and witty sarcasm seemed…forced, somehow. It was barely noticeable, and sometimes he wondered if he was just being paranoid. The only emotion that really felt real was her general brooding. When she thought that nobody was looking, she would lapse into silence and stare at things for a while, until her eyes became unfocused.

Kaddar noticed that those moods came on most often at night or when he kissed or touched her. It didn't really do much for his self-esteem, and he was losing sleep for worrying. The night before the Spring Festival began, he decided to find out what was going on.

He saw Kalasin sitting on the window seat, her chin resting on her knees. The gardens and the rest of the Palace were extravagantly lit, and she seemed to be admiring them. Kaddar took a deep breath, chastising himself for his nervousness. She was a woman, for Mithros' sake. A woman with serious attitude problems. Nothing to be fretting over.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting down next to her.

Kalasin jumped, startled, before relaxing and settling back down. "Hay is for horses," she replied. "Um…don't the lights look beautiful?"

"Oh, they do," he assured. "Nadareh's very pleased with how they turned out, especially that star-shaped one near the fountain over there." He slipped an arm around her waist experimentally, and he felt her twitch a little, but then she leaned against him and tried to pretend nothing happened.

Time to take it to the next step. Kaddar pressed his fingers to her chin, forcing her to look up at him. He didn't know what he expected to see in her eyes, although he feared that she would look at him like a trapped animal. No such thing, however—her eyes were liquid and blue and Kalasin, flickering in the candlelight.

"So…" he said, trailing off and leaning so close that their noses almost touched. "Dinner's over, and we have no work to do. It's only nine-thirty. According to my schedule, we have quite a few long hours with absolutely nothing to do."

"Nothing?" she asked innocently, and slipped her hands into his with a flirtatious smile. "There's always something to do around here."

Kaddar felt his worries vanish. She hadn't turned away or made an excuse to avoid him. Her smile felt real this time. "Oh, really, sweetling? Tell me what we can do to pleasurably while away our time."

Kalasin got up, leading him toward their bedroom with a coquettish look. "I think that it might be better if I showed you the many ways to keep entertained during our lonely night hours."

Kalasin yelped as he pulled her into his arms and twirled her around. "That would be absolutely lovely."

In the moment before they fell into bed, Kalasin tightened her arms around his neck, kicked her sandals off, blinked hard to keep herself from crying, and wondered why she was doing this to herself.

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This is not the end! I'll just say that the story is going to have about 26 chapters in all, give or take one or two.

Thanks millions to everybody who's reviewed. It makes me so happy. I give a fangirl squee whenever somebody is considerate enough to leave a comment. -smile-