II
o0o
Sialeni's progress to her room was steady if slow like she was drifting through a haze. She'd been prepared to die by her own hand, but not before taking down at least a few of her would-be assailants with her.
She came to the door of the room she shared with her sister – and during the siege, several other young noble ladies – and paused before it for a moment before she pushed it open, entering the solarium that opened into the other half of the room where the bed sat. The silence greeted her, but at the moment, she found it comforting, and went over to a finely-carved wood chair to sit down, not realizing until then just how light-headed she felt.
"Are you well?" she heard Irindu ask. She looked up, having almost forgotten that the woman had followed her into the room. She looked at the other woman for several moments before giving a brief nod. Generally a taciturn person, especially with the kind of family she had, Sialeni was not a person accustomed to talking about her emotions.
She sat for a while, staring out the window, occasionally drumming her finger on the arm of the chair or fiddling with the sleeve of her dress. She'd heard so many bad things about the people of Onshae Thamo, but she would have never imagined that their prince was someone she'd known from her past. How had Lukas become a prince? There were so many things she wanted to ask him! He was absolutely the last person she had expected to see on such an occasion like this.
Finally, she rose from her seat and went to her chest. Lukas – or Kuojin – had told her to dress in preferred colors. Well, that was a request she was happy to obey. Her current dress, despite an attempt to clean it – still had a limp look to it from all the sweat and wear that was inevitable during these long, hot days of summer. With fresh water becoming increasingly scarce, baths and laundry had become as dear to the noble class as anyone else, drinking and cooking taking precedence above all else.
At the bottom of the chest, she found an old dark gray dress, hoping it still fit. It was rough silk, and had been worn for a funeral and mourning several years ago.
As pure black was seen to belong to the Dark Sister, dark gray was the color to wear for funerals and mourning, and various shades of gray were worn among the religious folk. Dark gray was meant to represent the fact that the deceased's light no longer shone for his or her loved ones, but that a bit of light could be seen in dark gray was meant to represent the light that awaited the devoted through the darkness of death, like the glimmer of light at dawn.
The dress was a bit tight around her chest, but otherwise still fit well, and was the cleanest garment she had at that moment. It terminated just past her elbows, and a couple of inches above her ankles. All in all, it was a pleasing gown, but for the way the fabric strained against her breasts. She glanced around the room before her gaze fell upon the chest that sat in the corner. In warmer weather, a woman could don a vest or a tunic over a light dress. She was the only woman now in an apartment that had been shared by seven girls and young women for nearly half a year, and much of their clothing was left behind.
Finding an embroidered, green and blue knee-length wraparound tunic, she fastened it around herself with a blue and purple girdle.
Without her handmaidens, Sialeni was on her own when it came to doing her hair, but she managed reasonably well, using several silver pins and small braids to pull her hair back. Sapphire and aquamarine gemstones set in silver hung from her braids and around her neck, and she looked in the mirror, approving of the stern, regal beauty in the reflection. She'd never cared much for the pastel colors that were generally preferred for her sex, or fripperies such as embroidery or ribbons, and her wardrobe certainly had plenty of that thanks to her mother and sister.
She took a deep breath as she studied her image. For someone whose life had been turned upside-down within a day, she was in a decent position, all things considered. A few hours ago, she was prepared to die. Now she had a protector among the conquerors.
Again, she wondered how had Lukas become a prince of Onshae Thamo. Regardless of the circumstances that brought a former servant to such an exalted position, was he the same person she had once known? Could she trust him?
Slowly, she turned to Irindu, who had been standing near a corner and staring off thoughtfully. The dark-haired woman focused on her once she found herself the object of scrutiny.
"Yes?" Irindu asked.
"Do Thamonese wear a lot of black?" Sialeni asked, recalling what she'd seen of them so far.
"Some do."
"So it's not… a special color?"
"No. Many people wear black with colors. Winters in the Mother Islands are long and cold, and black clothing brings us much comfort when we must go outside. Also, much easier to keep clean than white clothing, no?"
"I suppose it is," Sialen said with a small chuckle. The things considered improper for an Araithalen noblewoman were also the things that tended to get fine, pastel-colored clothing stained too easily.
"So, these would be appropriate?" she asked, motioning to the dark gray dress.
"Yes. Many of my countrywomen dress like that, but with dark colors over lighter ones. Our men, they do the same thing. Already you think like one of us?" Irindu asked with what was intended to be a friendly smile. Sialeni smiled back, but inside, she mulled over her companion's words. Thinking like someone from a country she'd been taught to revile? Sialeni smiled faintly, staring at her reflection one last time. Let it not be said that she met her fate in an undignified manner.
"Come," she heard Irindu say. Sialeni squared her shoulders, lifting her chin. She might no longer be a princess since the kingdom of Araithale had ceased to exist, but she still had her pride. And a prince. He'd looked rather handsome in his armor, and he'd grown into a fine specimen of a male, with broad shoulders and confident grace.
Kuojin was standing just outside of the entrance to the banquet hall, and she found herself momentarily riveted by the sight of him. He'd changed out of his armor and was now clad in a black short-sleeved robe that had gold threading along the sleeves and hem. The symbol of the Dark Hand was emblazoned in an outline of gold against the outsides of his sleeves. The robe terminated just below his knees, revealing a pair of well-fitting light leather boots. At his side hung his sword.
His hair, which had previously been restrained to a topknot, now hung loose, stopping several inches below his shoulders.
"You look even lovelier than I last saw you, Sialeni," Kuojin whispered as she approached him. She curtsied to him, as was proper etiquette, at least in Araithalen society. Do the Thamonese curtsy, she wondered briefly.
He beckoned to her. "Come, let us talk." She followed him to the balcony that lined most of one side of the banquet hall, and Irindu did not follow them. The sun hung low near the horizon, casting everything with a sharp, long shadow. In the courtyard, she could see servants bustling about under the watchful eye of Thamonese soldiers.
He was silent, so she decided to take the initiative. "Lukas… Kuojin… how is it that you are a Prince? I must admit that I am having difficulty comprehending this."
"Would you believe me if I said that I am the son of Emperor Imonje?"
"In different circumstances, I might think you were jesting. But..." She shook her head. "How?" she asked again.
"Back then, keep in mind that even I did not know this… but the man my mother had been a consort to, was the Emperor. Only he had been a prince back then. And my mother was the niece of the then-obermon of House Silorn of Yngis. There is more to the story, but essentially, the prince was targeted and barely escaped with his life, although my mother believed he was dead, and my father was led to believe she was dead, but these were dark years for many others. Mother found out that she was pregnant, and made her way to Golden Lake."
"Where we met," Sialeni recalled. "And wait, this means that your mother is Yngsian, and your father is Thamonese..."
When Kuojin's mother had worked here as a servant, she had managed to pass herself off as Araithalen. But then, in these dark years, Kuojin had mentioned, that would have been a necessity, and the people of Araithale and Yngis shared the same ancestors. Likewise, although the Hgngu and the Thamonese shared the same dark hair and almond-shaped eyes, the near-extinct Hgngu were not as reviled as their much more populous counterparts.
"Yes. She managed to support herself by doing tailoring, embroidering, and laundry, as you remember. Then we joined your household. When we returned with your family, my presence did not go unnoticed. Eventually, my father learned of me and my mother. He realized that she was the one he'd lost so long ago. The reason we disappeared was that he'd commanded his agents to bring us to him."
"So that's why... It must have been such a surprise."
"To say the least," Kuojin replied with a small chuckle. "Although I can't imagine that my surprise was greater than yours earlier."
She managed a small smile. "So the Empress..."
He nodded. "The very same woman, only she was given a different name, just as I was."
She took a deep breath. "What is to become of me and my family?"
He leaned against the parapet that lined the balcony, staring at her for several moments. "Your family will be taken to the Islands and kept prisoner there."
She closed her eyes for a moment. "As for you..." she heard him continue. "Officially, you are a prisoner, as well."
She opened her eyes.
"However, I have no desire to treat you as such. I believe you would fare well as a citizen of Onshae Thamo, at least after you assimilate some of the customs and language. I am certain my father will be happy to adopt you into the clan, especially with an endorsement from my aunt, and of course, myself. My mother would be there to help you."
She let out a slow breath. "I am grateful for your kindness," she finally said after several moments. She looked down at the floor before returning her attention to him. "Is this what you had planned since you became a prince? Was it always your intent to capture me?"
A smirk tugged at his lips. "The conquest of Araithale is something that had been in preparation for several decades, even before my father became Emperor. Your ancestors sealed the fate of their bloodline generations ago, but I will say that I missed you dreadfully, Sialeni. My first night in my father's palace, after learning about who I really was and what kind of future awaited me… I promised myself that I would see you again."
"Only our roles are now reversed. You are the child of a king, and I am… not royalty, not any longer."
"The Oronac dynasty may be at its end, but this does not make you any less of a person, Sialeni. Opportunities await you. Back then, you helped me and my mother and were our friend despite what others thought of us. Consider that favor returned."
"Thank you." There were parables in Araithalen folklore about kindness being its own reward, and the Heavenly Father and Mother rewarding humans for such. If these gods did exist, it appeared that such parables had some truth to them.
"Hello, Aunt," she heard Kuojin utter, and turned to see Araithale's new ruler stand in one of the portals that divided the banquet hall from the terrace. She had been an impressive sight in her armor, but her current attire maintained the austere regality she'd exuded before. Like her nephew, most of her outfit was black, though hers had gold and green thread along the hems. The high cut of the sleeves offered a generous view of sinewy but graceful and powerful arms, the flex of her biceps visible with certain movements.
Her hair was pulled back with several gold pins that kept the locks away from her face so that they could flow freely down her back. Her face was smooth and pale, and although she could not be called beautiful, her long face was complimented with finely-arched eyebrows and full lips.
Sialeni hesitated before doing a polite curtsy.
"We do not curtsy. in Onshae Thamo. We bow." However, Azami's voice was not scolding and merely carried a matter-of-fact tone. "The degree of the bow is determined by the difference in ranks between the people involved."
"There will be time for her to learn that, Aunt," Kuojin said.
"It's never too early for someone to learn anything," Azami replied with a slight lift of her chin. Sialeni found herself caught between the two, unsure of which side she should choose – not that she wanted to choose in the first place. Deciding to take the safest course of action, she looked down at the floor, her hands folded nearly in front of her.
"See, she has already learned something," Azami pointed out, and Sialeni felt her cheeks pinken. In Araithalen culture, a grown man was subordinate to no woman. Had Mother spoken to Father in the same manner as Azami had just spoken to her nephew, she could have expected, at the very least, a stern reminder of a woman's place.
Kuojin cleared his throat before he spoke. "I have had a discussion with Sialeni."
"I take it that it was a satisfactory one."
"Indeed."
Sialeni looked up to see Azami give her nephew a meaningful look. Suddenly, Azami turned her attention to the younger woman. "I expect that you will not attempt to cause any trouble now, or in the future." This was stated in a calm yet blunt manner, and Sialeni didn't doubt that Azami would act upon any threat, whether real or perceived.
"If I may be frank..."
"I expect nothing less." Azami's tone was now imperious.
"I have known for a while that Araithale would eventually come to an end. My father was – and still is, I am sure – arrogant and confident in the divine right that he perceives is due to his bloodline. Over the last few months, I was more and more certain that I would see the end of the kingdom with my own eyes. I was quite prepared to fight – not for the kingdom or family, but myself. I am sure you are aware of how most Araithalens perceive the Thamonese."
Kuojin stared at her silently, stroking his chin. Azami shared his silence, studying her through narrowed eyes, waiting for her to continue.
"In the past, conquest has often meant violence against innocent parties. Women in such a position as I usually end up as a valuable spoil of war for the victor. I was prepared to ensure that did not happen to me. I was quite willing to kill anyone who would… try to… you know, even if that meant my demise. However, as the victors, in this case, have been… gracious, I am aware that it would be foolish to give them a reason to not continue to be so gracious."
Azami pursed her lips for several moments, loosely crossing her arms.
"… Are you sure you're Heliert's daughter?" she asked.
Sialeni's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Pardon?"
Kuojin let out a soft chuckle. "Azami meant that as a compliment. What she means is that you are as wise as your father is foolish."
"… Oh." Sialeni let out a weak chuckle. "Thank you?"
Azami gave a brief nod before turning away from them and going back inside.
o0o
Kuojin had to admit, he was nervous about the first personal encounter between Azami and Sialeni, but all things considered, things had gone very well. He couldn't help but feel a bit proud of Sialeni for her response to Azami's warning against trouble-making.
"I suppose then, that it's a good thing that it was me who claimed you, instead of some other prince?" Kuojin asked lightly.
"Yes. Consider yourself fortunate."
"Believe me, I do." He offered her his arm and led her back inside.
Anything movable that bore the crest of the Oronac family had been removed, to be replaced by the Dark Hand, the sigil of the Tekura ubiquitous along the walls of the Palace, though considerably understated compared to the oft-gaudy and elaborate banners and tapestries that depicted the sun, the symbol of House Oronac. Behind the table reserved for the royal family, the black hand loomed, appearing as if it would reach out and grab whoever sat n the lord's chair.
Already, many were seated, and more entered the hall with each passing minute, filling the tables that were arranged through the chamber in orderly rows. Over two-thirds were Thamonese, of course, but several Araithalens – those who served as spies and allies to the Tekura – and some Yngsians were among these numbers.
He scanned the room as he led Sialeni to the table at the end of the chamber, where Azami already sat in the chair that was normally reserved for the King. He sat at Azami's right, with Sialeni at his other side. At Azami's other side sat one of their cousins, a high-ranking general in the army, and another man, Lord Lubiu, who while not an actual soldier due to his disability, was nonetheless a respected bannerman to the Tekura. Irindu sat at the table directly below theirs with several people that appeared to be her peers.
There was a brief commotion as Heliert and his family were led into the banquet hall. The former king of Araithale and his son were both chained, manacles at their wrists with chains that were just long enough to allow them to do simple tasks, and their ankles also fettered to allow nothing more than a modest stride. Selestia and Estelleta did not have their hands restrained, but ankle chains peeked out from beneath their skirts.
Heliert was divested of all his royal trappings. His crown and fine robe were gone, leaving him in a plain undershirt with a pale blue tunic over it, and heavy sandals. Solan was dressed similarly in red. Their clothes showed signs of struggle, and Kuojin bit back a smile as his gaze slid over to Sialeni, looking beautiful and regal as she was in her dark silk and gems.
The family was ushered to the table at the side of the room opposite the openings to the courtyard. The impotent rage and frustration in Heliert's expression were clear as he regarded his conqueror, sitting in the seat that had traditionally been his. Kuojin turned his head slightly, seeing that Azami did not bother to hide a cold smirk as she regarded the former king of Araithale.
Their table was below the front table and opposite to the one Irindu sat at, making it easy for Azami to see them. They were the subject of attention from nearly the entire room as Heliert yelled and pointed at some Araithalens who sat at another table with several Thamonese.
"The Heavenly Father will strike you down for your betrayal! Not even the Mother would offer you any mercy!"
Kuojin let out a slow sigh, remembering the religion of this land well. There were four deities – the Father, Mother, Son, and Daughter. The Father reigned supreme above all, filling the role of the head of the family as well as the creator of the world, and his word was law. The Mother was… well, the mother. She represented the caretaker and nurturer, as well as servant and helpmeet to the Father. The Son was a compliment to his father, servant and heir alike, though this subordinate position was also applied to younger brothers or other males lesser in the long-established order. Likewise, the Daughter was a compliment to her mother. The Son and Daughter represented the younger generation, and filial piety was emphasized in their roles.
Their roles were mirrored in Araithalen society. A man, particularly father or grandfather, was always head of the household, and he would decide things for the family, who was expected to obey him. Just as the Heavenly Father kept order in the cosmos, the obermons kept their families in order.
Women were not eligible to lead, and if a man had no son or grandson to carry on his line, the position would pass to a nephew, brother, or some other qualified male relative, to ensure the continuance, organization, and security of the family. No family could be without an obermon.
A man's house was his castle, it was oft said - even if it might be nothing more than a hovel - and his family were his vassals, subject to his whims in exchange for his protection. It was usually the Father who was prayed to, and many shrines and temples featured him only, or him and his son. If all four were featured in a painting or statue, the Father was inevitably positioned above the other three.
Women might have smaller shrines, in the corner of the garden or near the hearth, or some other space normally reserved for women, for the Mother or Daughter. There were relatively few female-only temples within the city. Their provenance was strictly limited to matters that were seen as belonging to females, such as martial duties, childbirth, child-rearing, house-keeping, and so on.
"I bore of hearing about your Heavenly Father," Azami stated in a cool, clear tone. "He's had his chance to express his displeasure many times thus far, and I have seen nothing of it." She gestured to the banner behind her. "Always remember light casts shadow. Light can not exist without darkness, but darkness can exist without light. Night always follows day."
"And day follows night!" Solan retorted hotly.
"So I suppose that I can expect the sun to return tomorrow morning?" Kuojin replied glibly. "That reassures me. Now that we have established that fact, I would like to eat. It has been a long day for all of us, and I do not doubt that we all welcome this respite… including you. Of course, I am sure that my aunt would not hesitate to send you to bed without supper if you continue to act like a naughty child."
Solan seemed about to say something else, but he wilted under the stares of so many.
Servants poured into the room, carrying platters and clay tureens of various food items, both Araithalen and Thamonese. Some of them were a very welcome sight to Araithalens in the room or the Yngsian spies who'd had to endure much of what the Araithalen citizens did during the siege.
The head table was served first, and naturally, was presented with the choicest bits of meat and delicacies. Kuojin did not miss the eyes of the former royals as the dishes passed by their table, several Araithalen servants giving them pitying glances, but daring nothing more under the supervision of their new masters. The former royal family was the last to be served, and while their food was far from inedible, it was also a far cry from what was being served to Azami and her companions.
"What the hell is this?" Heliert complained, poking at the dark brown bread that had been placed before him. It was the kind of simple bread made from coarse grain, generally referred to as baubrot, which was typical peasant fare. In the leanest of times, bark, twigs, or nutshells and produce peels and rinds – among other things – might be used to stretch out what little, if any, grain might be available. A fair amount of it had been eaten during the siege, even by the highborn, but the royal stores had been able to provide Heliert and his family with better-quality bread, albeit the flour had been carefully rationed.
His other choice of food was a stew of carrots, onions, potatoes, and a bit of meat. Solan looked equally indignant, but Selestia and Estelleta took nibbles and then bigger bites of their food, hunger overcoming offense.
"If you don't like the food, then don't eat," Azami stated before swallowing a spoonful of the spicy, fragrant squash soup that she'd ladled into a small bowl from the tureen that had been set on the table. "Mmm. Well, I just discovered something I like about this land," Azami stated.
"If you like that, there are several other things I can recommend," Sialeni offered as she took some soup for herself in one of the fine clay bowls the Araithalens kept for this purpose. Azami responded with a brief but approving nod. The room filled with the level din of conversation and the occasional clink of dinnerware as the meal progressed. He glanced down at the bowls that were being used for soup. The Thamonese used bowls of a similar size and design for their meals, the curve of the bowl fitting easily in most upturned hands, and on a cool day, the warmth of the ceramic would feel nice against one's palm, though some bowls would come with handles for those who liked their soup very hot.
Fresh produce had come from the occupied Araithalen farms surrounding the city, collected by the enemy forces that had been squatting there for months. The elite class was not the only recipients of this largess though. A good portion of the harvest had been distributed through the city a couple of hours earlier, so the refugees of Araithalen could at least go to bed with full bellies. Despite the relative warmth of the evening, the fresh soup was a welcome treat after months of increasing scarcity.
To provide some entertainment amidst the banquet, one of the Thamonese men trained in the art of the jester began to perform. While hours before he had been dressed in a warrior's armor, now he wore garish robes and wig of wild, white hair. He danced about the room, every movement exaggerated, and on occasion, would approach one of the guests and jibe at them, alternating between Thamonese, and a fairly good command of Araithalen. He did a cartwheel as he approached the head table before doing a little jig.
"You're now the leader of this province! Not bad for a fourth-born child, I must say!" the jester said, bowing to Azami with an exaggerated flourish of one arm. "Not bad at all!"
o0o
At first, when the jester started insulting people, Sialeni wondered why the recipients of his comments didn't get angry with him. However, after several encounters, she realized that this was an accepted form of humor in Onshae Thamo, and it seemed that the jester was artful about his jibes, following some unspoken rule about how far he could go.
The entire situation almost felt surreal to her. Here she was, sitting with the conquerors and new rulers of Araithale, while her family was being fed what amounted to them as scraps that were fit only for the basest of peasants. It was hard to not feel at least a small amount of schadenfreude at the way her father and brother were being treated, and their response to the situation.
"I know that this has not been easy for you. I understand it is a lot to take in, and I am pleased with how you are handling it. I mean that in the most complimentary way, of course," Kuojin said as he leaned over to whisper this to her, his breath warm against her ear.
"It's good to know that," she replied dryly after taking a sip of wine. "To be sure, my parents tried to make me conform to their standards. I was much happier defying them, to be honest. Like chasing away the men they allowed to court me."
Azami overheard this and leaned forward to regard her before she glanced at her nephew. "It would seem that your princess..." there was a slightly playful tone in her voice as she said the last word, but not in a biting manner, "will be an even better fit in Onshae Thamo society than you thought. Perhaps I could even train her to be a warrior," Azami said as she took a savory piece of meat delicately between her manicured fingers before bringing it to her lips and watching the jester.
"Too willful to be lorded over by fools?" He flashed her a warm smile before he glanced back to his aunt. "Why am I not surprised to hear that? At the very least, I am sure she would benefit from some magic lessons from you." He quickly turned back to her. "I can only imagine the sort of boorish, foul suitors your father chose for you. No doubt an unworthy lot."
"Oh, I have quite a few stories, if you'd care to hear them. One of them claimed that if I did not know how to use my tongue properly, he'd cut it off as soon as he married me. I responded that I would cut his penis if he tried to bed me. Naturally, Father was not pleased and I do not doubt he was on the verge of sending me to a convent."
Kuojin smirked at her comment, but there was a darkness to his gaze, anger lurking beneath the surface. He turned to his aunt with the same expression, and Azami stared at them, her eyes narrowed again.
"The backward manner in which the people of Araithale treat their women is the behavior of ignorant savages. Taking this place was as much a liberation of half – no, more than that – of the population as anything else," Azami finally said after a moment. It was not until then that Sialeni realized that the other occupants of the table had been listening to them, and she blushed faintly.
"I have heard..." the man on Azami's other side spoke, his speech halting. "many things about… how women are treated… here. It… saddens my heart… to hear it… true." He was a middle-aged man, with a tightness to the left side of his face that she deduced contributed to his method of speech more than his limited grasp of the Araithalen language. He also seemed to have only partial use of his left hand, but it was clear from his placement at this table that his disability was no detriment to whatever service he rendered to Azami.
"I can assure you, sir, no one is sadder than the women these things are done to," Sialeni responded. "However, it is clear to me even in this short time, that the Onshae Thamo are kinder to their women. I bear no grudge for your presence here."
The man offered her a kind smile. Azami nodded approvingly.
"Sialeni, this is Lord Lubiu, one of my most trusted advisors," Azami explained, and Sialeni and Lubiu nodded at one another before the new ruler of Araithale continued, "Honestly, is it any wonder we were able to conquer them? They don't let their women fight, or learn swordsmanship or other such skills." She glanced over at Heliert. "A real man does not feel the need to subjugate women to make himself feel stronger. If anything, a truly strong man would embrace a strong woman, for her strength can complement and bolster his own. That is, if the woman chooses to embrace a man." Azami added with a small smirk.
At that, Solan was unable to resist, as he glared at his sister and then back at Azami. "Then why are women smaller and weaker than men, and the ones to bleed and give birth?" he spat out. Sialeni rolled her eyes at her brother but did not deign a response, wondering if at least a bit of that came from a place of grief.
"Because men are such weaklings when it comes to blood and birth. If men started bleeding from their cocks, the world would come to a standstill!" Azami shot back. "When you're sent to the Islands, I will add a personal message to my brother to make sure that you are... re-educated and harshly corrected from your backward thinking." She paused as she sat back in her chair. "Or would you prefer to stay here, and I can put you both in dresses and make-up? It wouldn't be much different from what many of your men do to women prisoners," she stated. Solan gasped in terror.
In Araithale, transvestites were not tolerated, and a man who liked to cross-dress was disdained and often persecuted. It was considered an insult to compare a man to the weaker sex or make any such insinuations, for accordingly to the Heavenly Father, man and women were made in their fashion, and each served a purpose, with one designed as subordinate to the other.
"The lack of courtesy only further shows their barbarism. They should be thankful they're not being tortured. Instead, they sit here and act like poorly-reared children. It's no surprise they failed to hold onto their lands. That said, I do wonder how they were able to ever claim them at all!" She then continued in loud, firm Thamonese, and a good amount of men started chuckling.
Sialeni raised her eyebrow at Kuojin, and he shrugged. "She is simply repeating what she said, for the benefit of those not versed in your language." He then turned his attention to his former masters.
"Does the thought of wearing a dress scare you?" he asked, looking down the table, his tone sounding genuinely curious. "Are you so insecure in your manhood that such acts would somehow call it into question despite its very presence?" The comment drew a few laughs, though some chose to politely ignore it instead. It also had its desired effect- drawing the attention of the jester. The clown danced his way over, his wild movements and bright clothes standing out among so many wearing black or muted colors. Once he reached the former Oronac nobility, he began a series of insults about the questioning of manhood and men who were insecure in their gender.
"You know you would not be here if you did not come through a woman's vagina?" the jester jeered. Several people laughed, and he repeated it in Thamonese, eliciting more laughter. "I do not think you would wish to come through a man's organ!"
Heliert's face bordered on purple, and Solan regarded the jester with a dark scowl. Sialeni knew from experience that if he had not been manacled, he would likely have risen from his seat to attack the jester. It wouldn't have been the first time.
"… So, you're not afraid of wearing a dress?" Sialeni whispered to Kuojin. Her next words were spoken more loudly, in response to Azami's comment.
"To answer your comment, my ancestors were conquerors, like you are now. Centuries ago, the dynasty that came before mine was, according to our historical records, just as weak as my father and brother are now, which made it easy for my ancestors to conquer them. Of course, once the conquest was done, generations went by with increased idleness, and increasing pride and arrogance as well, as you can see here." Her message had a subtler point – if two dynasties had become so weak as to be conquered by others, the Tekura should caution that it didn't happen to themselves, as well.
Azami nodded, and Kuojin's eyes twinkled as he regarded his captive with a small smile.
"A dress certainly is not my first choice in garments," he replied. "However, if I had to do so, I would continue to be aware of my manhood and skills." He paused to take a mouthful of his salad before he spoke again. "Uncivilized dynasties rise and fall. They root themselves in foolish zealotry, persecute their people, and lapse into complacency and self-indulgence. Our ways actively avoid all of these shortcomings. We strive for perfection in body, mind, and deed. We do not sit lazily and expect an invisible being in the sky to do life's work for us."
"Then your family just might fare better than most of the dynasties I've read about in the history books, Your relaxed confidence in your manhood is also admirable and refreshing, I will admit."
"I do like to see men in dresses, but that's just a personal taste," Azami joked as she sipped her wine. The banquet went on pleasantly, with Heliert grumbling some about the jester or his food, but he had not eaten all day – or much in the last few days – and common sense finally overcame his finickiness. After their meal was complete, the former royals were escorted away to the dungeons, placed under the guard of men who were much more effective in their duty than their predecessors; no one would be able to sneak in and rescue the family with what Sialeni didn't doubt were well-trained sentinels, on the watch.
"Well, I do believe that went well for the first day," Azami said in a tone that bordered on cheerful. "I do not doubt that many of you are eager for a rest. Go on, you have earned it."
Sialeni was quiet as high-ranking officials, soldiers, and Araithalen allies approached the table to bow and make obeisance to Azami and Kuojin. She was the subject of more than a few glances. A slow breath filled her lungs as she saw a certain nobleman approach, a man that her father had long considered one of his closest allies.
House Starsmore was an ancient bloodline, one who claimed to be able to trace their bloodline all the way back to the time before the Peregrination, though they also had the claim of sharing blood-ties with Oronac through the exchange of daughters generations back. This man was a distant cousin of hers, though so many times removed that he had little, if any, claim to the Araithalen throne. Not that that mattered now.
Lord – and obermon – Starsmore was one of the last people she would have expected to turn against her father, but then perhaps his support through the years had been nothing more than a veneer, she mused. Given what Kuojin had said about the invasion of Araithale being planned for decades, she wondered how long Lord Starsmore had been part of that plot. When Viruch attacked from the south, the Starsmores and most of their vassals had simply stepped aside to let the Viruchids pass through their lands.
"Lady Sialeni," the middle-aged man stated with a polite bow of his head. "It gladdens my heart to see that you are well."
She gave a brief nod. "Today has been full of..." She hesitated for a moment, "Surprises." She glanced at him, and the salt-and-pepper-haired man smiled at her kindly. "How is your son?"
"Well, your father had quite a few surprises to shock him as well, I am sure. However, unlike him, I did not blind myself to the inevitable, and it would appear that you have exercised similar wisdom. My son is doing well, thank you. Because of him, many Araithalen, Dakulian, and Viruchid men will be able to return home to their families."
"What about Lord Redfield?" Sialeni asked. Lord Starsmore shook his head.
"As far as I know, he was never involved in any collusion with the Thamonese, but it is never too late to develop common sense. Perhaps he decided that one blood-soaked field was enough."
House Redfield has earned its name from its progenitor, who had led his soldiers in a battle against the Hgngu, and was not satisfied with a surrender. He and his men had slaughtered the survivors of the defeated army before going after their elders, women, and children, soaking the fields that surrounded the Hgngish town in their blood. Nearly seven centuries had passed since that event, but the name did well to serve as a reminder to that family – and the rest of Araithale.
Lord Starsmore glanced over at Azami and Kuojin before returning his attention to her. "Despite how I may feel about your father and brother, I assure you, I am no enemy of yours. It is my sincerest wish that you find happiness in these circumstances. You are, after all, my kinswoman, and caring for family is a value dearly held by Araithalen and Thamonese alike. Please do not hesitate to call upon me or contact me. I am at your service, my lady."
"Thank you for your kind words." She gave him a polite nod, seeing no need to say anything further.
o0o
Kuojin stifled a yawn before he rose from his chair. Azami regarded him as she spoke to him in Thamonese.
"Are you eager to be alone with your princess?" she teased lightly.
Kuojin gave her a dry smirk. "If I were a typical Araithalen male, I am sure you would know my response to that."
"Then it's a good thing for you both, that you are not."
He nodded. "Good night, aunt. I do not doubt you will sleep well tonight."
Azami gave him a brief smile before he turned to Sialeni, offering his arm. She took it, and he led her outside. Gently touching her chin with his fingers, he lifted her face so that their eyes met.
"You know, the moonlight becomes you," he said softly as he studied her face.
"Thank you. By the way, your aunt mentioned magic. What kind of magic does she use? I'm guessing Earth?"
He raised his eyebrow. "You are correct. How did you know?"
"I think Azami showed it to me, on purpose. At dinner, when she spoke of magic. I saw a flash of her aura, it was golden-green."
"I believe she was testing you. Normally, she keeps the nature of her magic hidden, to avoid general detection. I am sure she will be pleased to know that you passed her test."
"It's possible to hide your magic?" Sialeni asked. He nodded. Fortunately for him, he had been able to keep his Black magic hidden, the reality of his situation back then giving him the impetus to develop the unconscious ability to keep this ability hidden, not just for himself, but for his mother's sake. It was rare, but a novice mage could develop abilities beyond the norm under the right – or wrong – circumstances.
"It is a tactic that only mages of very advanced skill can utilize. Speaking of skill… I know that the women of Araithale are not educated in a way that makes full use of their facilities. I don't suppose you've made any headway in healing magic? As I recall, you struggled with that before."
It was oft said that magic had a mind of its own. Many mages would see their abilities incline towards one direction or another. With enough practice and study, a mage could overcome this bent, but it was no easy task to subvert nature.
She gave a brief shrug. "I've gotten a little better at healing, but still have a hard time with it and every time I am simply told that I am not trying hard enough, that I need to pray to the Mother and the Daughter for their blessing and guidance, and the Father thanking him for the gift, and so on."
"So nothing has changed, huh?" This did not surprise him – male mages were given a more varied and in-depth education than female mages here in Araithale. Women were restricted to instruction in the healing and domestic arts as far as their magic could be applied to such. It was rare for a woman to be able to learn anything other than what society dictated was appropriate for her sex.
She gave him a wry smile. "I try to study on my own, but it wasn't easy to gain access to certain texts in the library, especially when the librarians are tight-fisted old bastards who kept directing me to... approved books. Which meant that I had to come up with my own… devisements which we both know the Heavenly Father certainly would not approve of." Sialeni replied bitingly. Kuojin could easily imagine her hiding such obscure texts behind the pages of the illustrated convent-produced books that proper young ladies were supposed to be studying from.
He suspected there was something she was not telling him, but he decided to not press the subject.
"You know very well that Water is not my natural element, but I've received more than enough instruction in Onshae Thamo that I am sure some of what I know would be useful to you."
"I remember," she smiled faintly. "I don't doubt that Fire magic helped you and your mother, back then."
Kuojin nodded slowly as he remembered his days before serving Heliert, back then. It was much easier to light a fire with magic than with kindling or manipulate it for cooking or other practical purposes. As a half-breed, which amounted for not much more than a bastard, he wasn't given a full education as a full-blooded Araithalen child, especially the sons of noblemen, but he'd been instructed in the basics of Fire magic, not so much for his safety as for others. Fire, due to its very nature, was an inherently dangerous element so when Fire Magic manifested itself in a child, control over this element was paramount in the training.
"That's not the only magic I command. I inherited more from my father than you would think."
Before Sialeni could ask her inevitable question, he flicked his hand, and the shadows around them thickened, forming a barrier between them and the banquet hall, rendering them invisible to those remaining inside. She gasped and stepped backward.
"It was you who cast the palace in darkness earlier?"
"Not just me. Cloaking such a large structure required the combined effort of several Black Mages as well as Earth and Air mages to reinforce it. It was not easy, I assure you, but the effort paid off quite well."
She gave out a small, uneasy chuckle. "Well, I can see how you call yourselves the Dark Hand."
Seeing her discomfort, he dispelled the darkness. "Yes. It runs strong in our family, though as you see in Azami's case and mine, we do temper our bloodlines with other magics."
"Did you know you could do this? Back then?"
He nodded. "Mother warned me to never, ever practice it around others, or hint at, or even joke that I had this ability."
Both of them knew very well why. To the Heavenly Father, Black magic was profane, and children who were found to show any talent for it was put into the custody of the Father's clerics, where this "impurity" was met with beatings, scourging, forced fasts, and prayer. Given the fact that half of his heritage came from a race many Araithalens deemed inferior, it was a real possibility that he might have been put to death, instead of undergoing 'purification'.
"The hour grows late, Sialeni. I would not be a very good host if I did not ensure that you had what you needed. Would you like to retire for the night?"
"Yes. I am tired." She looked away, at the courtyard for several moments before her gaze returned to him. There was uncertainty in her eyes, and she seemed unsure of what to say.
"Do you have something to ask?"
"So… how long do you intend to stay here before you have to return to your father?"
"A few ten-nights, or so. Why, are you so eager to leave Araithale?"
She quickly looked down. "I just wanted to know."
"Please, don't consider yourself a prisoner, here or in Onshae Thamo. As I said, you are under my protection. You will be able to roam the palace freely, and you will no longer be required to engage in… what did you call it, back then? Useless girly distractions?" he asked in a slightly teasing tone.
She looked back at him with a faint smile. He spoke again, "My aunt or I will require your presence at times, but otherwise, do as you please," he assured her, wishing to put her at ease. Even now, he could sense the wall she had put around herself. It was something that had existed back then, and he didn't doubt that the walls were higher and thicker now. Not that he could exactly blame her.
He thought of the magic he'd cast in the past. With plans requiring the utmost secrecy, his options for contacting Sialeni had been limited, and he had no way of knowing he was successful unless he asked her.
"Good night, Luka… Kuojin." she quickly corrected herself.
"Sleep well, Sialeni. Tomorrow's a new day, and certain to be better for you than the previous morn."
She started to do a curtsy., but stopped herself and bowed to him. He bowed back to her.
o0o
Sialeni's return to her apartment was uneventful, and she was slightly surprised when two of her ladies-in-waiting approached her. She turned to scan the room and saw Irindu seated in the corner much like a statue, her hands in her lap, staring ahead. As they made eye contact, Irindu gave her a brief nod.
"She just sits there… and stares," the taller of the two maids whispered.
"It is something we will have to get used to, I suppose," Sialeni replied nonchalantly. She had no fondness of Danisa. As was tradition, a Queen or Princess's ladies-in-waiting or handmaidens were generally selected from daughters of noble houses great and small – though of course, the more powerful a family was, the better chance their daughter was to have a higher position in a queen or princess's retinue. This made them more visible to the men of the Court, opening up chances for these refined and well-placed young ladies to attract the notice of prospective grooms.
Mother had always selected the ladies-in-waiting her daughters would have. Inevitably, the selections would be girls and women that Selestia approved of, which usually meant that Sialeni would have little in common with them – at best. She'd had enough of their company, having endured it more days than she could count, especially during the siege as patience frayed and tempers climbed with the heat of a long summer.
However, Mother was no longer in charge. That realization gave Sialeni pause. "How did you come back here?" she asked. Danisa gave out a small huff at that before flipping her dark blond braid over her shoulder.
"That woman..." She pointed a finger at Irindu, as if accusing her of a crime, "walked among us while the soldiers were keeping us in the courtyard. She asked for your attendants, so here we are. At least, what's left of us, anyway."
"I see," she offered neutrally. "If you don't like it, then go. Return to your family!"
"...What?" Danisa whispered incredulously. The other girl, Prilly, stared at her.
"You heard me. Your services are no longer needed."
"What? Your mother placed us here, you cannot simply dismiss us, even if you are the princess!" Danisa argued. Sialeni stared at her coolly.
"My mother is no longer Queen, as you will recall."
Danisa opened her mouth, before she closed it, struggling for something to say. She exchanged glances with the other lady.
"You are both dismissed from my service," Sialeni said with a wave of her hand. She'd tried to dismiss ladies before, but her mother had always had the final word about who was in her retinue.
"But… but that's not proper!" Prilly said with a gasp. Sialeni inhaled slowly. Prilly had always grated on her nerves. The chubby young woman had a tendency to overindulge in food – a significant character flaw as far as Selestia was concerned – but in every other aspect, she was the ideal female. She dressed properly, spoke properly, behaved properly, and every thought she had in her delicate mind was probably also proper. Any time Sialeni might do or say something that had even just a whiff of impropriety to it, Prilly inevitably commented on it, which Selestia saw as a useful tool to remind her daughter of ladylike behavior.
She also had the tendency to get flustered easily, which Sialeni had to admit to herself was at times amusing to provoke in the easily-offended lady. Now was certainly one of these times.
"Prilly, my dear," Sialeni said sweetly. "Things have changed. The Oronac dynasty has come to an end. As Azami and Kuojin have stated earlier, this land is now under Onshae Thamo law. Whatever my father or mother say, counts for nothing." She paused as she recalled what she'd just learned of the Thamonese view of women. "Likewise for anyone else who would lecture me on propriety, especially you. I must admit, there are so many times I've wanted to slap you whenever you went into fits over something I said or did. Especially given that I had to share my quarters with you for the last few months."
Prilly stared at her with wide brown eyes and took a step back, her hand fluttering to her chest.
"You don't mean for us to go… out there? With all these men around?"
"If the men of Onshae Thamo were half the monsters that we were told they were, neither of you would be intact right now," Sialeni pointed out. "Besides, as I said before, your services are not needed. Mother selected my ladies-in-waiting in her attempt to mold me into a proper young lady. I have never needed that, and now that she is no longer in charge of the ladies' quarters, there is no more excuse for you to remain. Go back to your families. You will be safe with them, provided that your families bow to Lady Tekura."
"Well then," Danisa said with a small scowl. The two had never truly gotten along, but Danisa had tolerated the position because of the prospect of a good marriage match. Now, these opportunities were gone as it was evident that the former Princess was not about to grant any favors. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. "It is not proper for a woman to stay where she is not wanted or needed, so I will take my leave." She gave out a haughty sniff and lifted her skirts before she curtsied and turned away.
A strangled giggle burst from Sialeni at this posturing. It wasn't that she had expected much different from the snobbish noblewoman, but her display was nonetheless amusing. She stared at Prilly.
"Go with her, is it not improper for a single woman to be alone amidst men?" Sialeni asked sharply. Prilly gave out a sharp squeak and did a curtsy., although with none of the hauteur that Danisa commanded, before quickly following the other woman out of the room. Neither of them offered any acknowledgment to Irindu, but it seemed that the soldier did not expect any.
Sialeni stood there in silence for several moments, savoring the peace and quiet. In the meantime, she could enjoy what time she had left here in Araithale without the impediment of said ladies. She thought about what she'd said to her former ladies-in-waiting, and didn't doubt that either of them might have a few choice words to say about her and what she'd said and done tonight. In the end, did that really matter?
She walked over to the window, looking outside. The bustle that had been there earlier was replaced by a quiet buzz, and if not for the dark-garbed Onshae Thamo soldiers and the banners of the Dark Hand, it might almost seem like any ordinary night. Had everything that occurred today been nothing but a dream, to be dispelled into reality once she woke up? However, she recalled Kuojin's touch on her cheek, and the warm stroke of his fingers against her face. The friend she'd thought long gone had returned to her life, heralding a new reality. And as it turned out, it wasn't one she necessarily had to fear.