IV
o0o
Empress Hauane stared off quietly, feeling the gentle tugging at her scalp as her hair was combed and braided by her maids. Her hair, which went just past her knees, was a lustrous honey-blonde color, a shade that was unique in the Imperial Court. Her husband, children, stepchildren, maids, courtiers, and neighbors all had ebony hair, with the exception of several people who were not native to this land.
With long-practiced ease, the maids completed their task, binding her hair in a thick plait and tying it off with a sash. She was already clad in her night robes, the outer layer being of a warm green shade with multicolored flowers embroidered along the hem and sleeves.
With a gentle wave of her hand, she dismissed her maids before turning to her mirror, reaching out for one of the bottles that sat along the surface in front of the polished silver. Selecting a container of light blue crystal, she pulled out the stopper and pressing her fingers to the small opening. Lifting her fingers to her neck, she brushed her fingers along the pulse points, leaving behind traces of fragrance. Loosening her robe, she also touched the valley between her breasts.
Refastening her robes, she rose to her feet and left her apartments, her slippered feet traversing the path to her husband's room as it had done countless nights in the past. The dark-garbed guards that stood at the door to the Emperor's bedchamber were so still that they might as well have been statues, and this image was only further bolstered by their silence as one of them opened the door for her and closed it after her before slipping back into his original position as if he had not moved at all.
Many would have found the silence unnerving, but after all her time here, it was comforting in its way. At certain times of the year, if she listened carefully or went over to the windows, she might hear insects or other noises that were usual in the night, but the Emperor liked for his inner sanctum to be cloaked in the peace of quiet.
Making her way across the parlor, Hauane let herself through the second door. She was met with the sight of her husband sitting in the alcove, the edge of his robes visible under the bottom of the drapes. Knowing better than to interrupt him when he was working his magic, Hauane moved to the other side of the room, where a large and comfortable bed sat. In front of the bed, on a low table, sat everything needed for tea, including a shallow candle which was situated under the teapot that hung above it.
She walked over to one of the Emperor's chests, lifting the lid and looking down at the tray that made up the first layer in the receptacle. After moments of deliberation, she chose several herbs, knowing that together, they would make a pleasant tea. She returned to the table and added the herbs to the pot, letting them steep as she glanced over at her husband, who was still ensconced in his alcove.
Hauane remembered very well the venomous attitude that Araithalens had about Black magic. To a people and a king who saw themselves as blessed by the Sun itself, the opposite of light represented its antithesis. Darkness must be evil, they concluded, and so must be the magic that aligned itself with the shadows. Fortunately, the Thamonese were not so narrow in their views, and White Mages were not reviled in Onshae Thamo as the Araithalens believed. As long as anyone used their skills – magical or not – for the benefit of others, then they were welcome members of the community, regardless of their particular skills.
Hauane's thoughts were interrupted as she heard the rustle of fabric, and saw the Emperor push aside the drapes and stride across the room to take his seat across from her. Without needing to be prompted, she lowered her head and blew out the candle before she lifted the teapot from the frame that supported it and poured him a cup, doing the same for herself.
"How are they?" Hauane asked, eschewing the formalities as she always did in his chambers, at his request.
"Continuing to reap the fruits of their efforts. The words sent to me were 'continued success'," the Emperor stated with a small smile before he lifted his cup, inhaling the soothing aroma of the tea. She breathed out a small sigh of relief, knowing – and remembering – all too well how deceptive peace could be.
"You worry too much, my love," Imonje chided.
"He's my son."
"He's my son as well."
"I'm not about to forget that," Hauane retorted mildly. Imonje regarded her with a hint of a smirk. Even with his temples streaked with silver, and fine lines at the corner of his eyes, Emperor Imonje was still a very handsome man, and a carefully-moderated diet and exercise regimen kept him in better shape than many men half his age.
"I would hope that you wouldn't forget. Otherwise, my prowess in the bedchamber would be thrown into doubt. I'm sure you don't need a reminder, but I do enjoy refreshing your memory..."
She felt a faint touch of warmth creep up her neck to settle on her cheeks. "Now, now," she shot back playfully as she collected herself, "Arrogance is not befitting a man of your esteemed status, my lord."
"It is not arrogance if it is true, Ilde." He only used her original name in their most private moments.
"The people of Onshae Thamo are blessed to have such an intelligent and wise ruler," Hauane replied, knowing very well that her taciturn husband would not object to a bit of flattery. He was after all, as human as anybody else, regardless of being referred to as Exalted.
"Let us hope that the people of Araithale realize that soon enough," Imonje replied in a serious tone.
"That is why I worry."
Imonje stared at her thoughtfully for several moments before he gave her a brief nod. He might tease her at times about her tendency to worry, but he was also able to recognize that her concerns were well-founded, given the time she and their son had lived in Araithale, and the grief he'd harbored over what he'd believed to be her demise. She'd had quite a few restless nights since her son and sister-in-law had left the Islands to embark on their conquest of Onshae Thamo's greatest, and oldest enemy.
It was times like this that she was glad for the gift of Black magic, even though she did not possess it. The most speedily-delivered letter would take at least a week to make it across from the mainland, but two Black mages could communicate almost instantaneously if with carefully-chosen words, which was what Imonje had been doing before he came to sit down for tea.
"Perhaps I need to take your mind off these worries, hmm?" Imonje asked, his sober gaze melting away to a playful twinkle in his dark eyes.
"Shameless old lech," Hauane mock scolded. She had to struggle to keep the grin that threatened to break out on her face.
"I made you smile, didn't I?"
o0o
Sialeni strode through the hall with calm confidence. It'd been four days since the fall of Araithale, and the former Princess could hardly complain about her new circumstances. The loss of her royal title was of no consequence, as it had afforded her little more in the past but a roof over her head, food to eat, and clothing to wear, all finer than what the average Araithalen women was afforded. What good was that when one had to live under the restrictions mandated by Araithalen law and religion?
She did not doubt that there was gossip around her among the Araithalen nobility due to the fact that she walked around freely while the rest of her family were not afforded the same privilege. It was no secret that she enjoyed Prince Kuojin's favor, though none had the temerity – especially under the new rulers – to openly accuse her of misbehavior.
The crest of the Tekura offered a stark contrast to the sunlit room, where the chamber had been designed to take full advantage of sunlight. Amidst the golden rays of sun, the black hand loomed, almost forbiddingly, multiple hands seeming to caution their viewers to not venture into the light.
Azami had replaced the cushion on the Araithale throne for a thinner, firmer one. It was her eventual plan to have the throne changed out to something more befitting of her tastes, but she understood that leaving it as it was for the time being would have a psychological effect on her new subjects. Not once in Araithalen history had a woman ever been permitted to sit upon the throne, and for a female to successfully wrest it from a man was something that many Araithalen men, and even women, still found difficult to contemplate.
Sialeni bowed to Azami as she paused before the throne, uttering a morning greeting in Thamonese, her first time doing so. Azami regarded her with the slightest nod of approval, returning the greeting. Kuojin regarded her with a faint but warm smile of approval as she went to his side.
"You learn quickly."
"A lady must make use of her time in an efficient manner," Sialeni replied, quoting one of the many proverbs assigned to Araithalen women to guide their behavior, "And I do believe that learning a new language is a better use of my time than needlework or memorizing poetry."
"You will do well. Keep on like that, and it will be said that you have the face of an Araithalen but the heart of a Thamonese."
Sialeni turned back as she saw a small group of men enter the throne room, and felt her breath catch in her throat as she recognized the old man amidst the guards surrounding him. She had wondered what he might do after he'd been forced to surrender to the Viruchid forces. Obviously he'd wasted no time in rushing here once news reached him of the Thamonese victory.
She had only met her mother's father several times, and these encounters had never been pleasant. As she regarded the stony expresson on her grandfather's face, she knew that things would not go well for Lord Fiori. The old man's eyes scanned the room, looking for friends and peers among those that remained of the Araithalen court.
"Bachis Fiori. I have been expecting you," Azami stated in a neutral tone. "I do not doubt that you have things you wish to discuss, so..." She waved her hand, and Sialeni saw her grandfather's face twist into a scowl before he calmed his features.
Bachis Fiori was a misogynist and womanizer. He genuinely believed that women were intellectual inferiors to men. To him, his daughters and granddaughters were nothing more than tools and broodmares to be used to gain him the best alliances and wealth. Having one of his daughters marry the then-Crown Prince, and the heir to the throne being of Fiori blood, would ensure the primacy of that House for at least several generations to come.
At least, until a dark hand obscured the light of fortune that seemed to shine upon House Fiori. Sialeni loosely crossed her arms and lifted one hand to the underside of her chin as she watched what she was certain would be an interesting exchange between the two parties.
"You can be certain that I have plenty to say to you!" the old man snapped. A couple of Thamonese guards stepped forward, but Azami waved them back. Bachis continued, seemingly having not noticed Azami's generosity.
"You think you can just come here, and declare yourself lord of this proud land! You insert yourself in affairs that are not your own, and act as recklessly as a child knocking down others' toys!"
Sialeni had to hold back a snort at this unwieldy comparison. Bachis's eyes flicked over to Lord Starsmore before he returned his attention to Azami. "Women do not belong on the throne, and for good reason! Get off it now, and the Heavenly Father may forgive you your error!" He crossed his arms, the perfect image of a haughty lord who expected the recipient of his command to follow said command without hesitation.
Azami leaned slightly to one side, propping her chin on her elbow as if she was merely observing a person delivering a monotonous and inconsequential monologue.
"Is there anything else you wish to say?" Azami responded coolly. Bachis's scowl deepened further, something that Sialeni had been fairly certain was not possible.
"Your insolence is appalling and most unladylike! Men and women have their roles in this world, and to not follow these roles leads to chaos!"
The hall was silent, Thamonese and Araithalen alike observing this outburst, and waiting for what would happen next. Sialeni's eyes moved along the room, and for a moment, she met Lord Starsmore's gaze across the chamber. He regarded her with the faintest of shrugs, lightly drumming a couple of fingers on his chin.
"I have permitted you to speak your feelings because I would not be a fair ruler if I did not listen to my subjects. However, I will not tolerate disrespect," Azami responded. "The ways of your ancestors have been upheld for centuries, but that does not make them correct..."
"Ha! I will not be lectured on the rightness of my ways by someone who embraces the dark path!"
Momentarily, Sialeni felt warm breath at her ear as she heard Kuojin's voice in a whisper. "You were able to talk some sense into your father the first day we were here. Perhaps you could accomplish such a feat a second time?"
She turned her head just enough to register Kuojin in her peripheral vision, and raised an eyebrow. "Generally, miracles only happen once. However, I am willing to try."
He smiled before glancing over at Azami. The older woman gave a slight wave of her hand, and Kuojin nodded to his companion. Taking a deep breath and several steps, she parted herself from the people that surrounded her, and many pairs of eyes moved towards her.
"Grandfather, I know this is difficult for you to accept, but I can assure you, it will be even more difficult to not come to terms with the reality of things."
As a woman, Sialeni was denied access to certain information. Even as a princess, she was restricted by her gender, and could not simply ask questions about certain matters. The first time she'd asked about military matters, her brother had laughed at her and mocked her ruthlessly. Solan was of course not the only male who would treat a woman in such a way if she was considered to be 'stepping out of her place' and 'absorbing knowledge that was useless to a woman'. There was only so much information she could glean from official announcements or snippets of conversations that she happened to overhear.
Kuojin, on the other hand, was a veritable fount of knowledge. It even seemed to delight him to answer her questions during their walks in the garden, and she'd gained a much clearer picture of just how Onshae Thamo was able to conquer Araithale. Onshae Thamo had the alliance of every other country that had bordered Araithale, such partnerships cemented with the gift of lands and continued self-governance. Under siege from all sides, and with its military not as well-funded as it needed to be, how could the once-mighty Kingdom of Araithale not meet its end?
"Araithale has come to an end. Everything comes to an end, some sooner than others. Such is the natural order of things, and should you be at peace with that, you will be able to live in peace." She stared into her grandfather's eyes, flinty green-blue and filled with loathing and prejudice.
"And what is peace for you?" Bachis snapped back, a bit of spittle flicking from his mouth. "Peace is letting him..." He pointed a finger at Kuojin, "bed you? You would have that bastard over the men your father considered for you? Over my own grandson, even? You are a disgrace to your ancestors and the Heavenly Father! I always knew something was wrong with you, but I could not guess at the depths of your depravity! You whore!"
Sialeni didn't expect anything else from her grandfather, but a part of her still hoped that he might have enough intelligence to grasp the situation and spare her the indignity of verbal abuse. So much for that…
The room had become silent, even those who did not have a firm grasp of the Araithalen language seemed to understand the inflection of Bachis's words.
Someone swept past her, and it was not until this person struck Bachis across the face with his fist did she realize that it was Kuojin. One of the Fiori guards stepped forward, but another grabbed his arm, shaking his head. The first man glanced from the prostrate old man to Kuojin and then around the room before he heeded his comrade's unspoken warning.
"Araithale no longer exists. This is now a province of Onshae Thamo, and as such, it is our customs and laws that take precedence over yours. To insult a person's honor and to make allegations upon said virtue is gravely frowned upon in Onshae Thamo," Kuojin uttered in a clear, steady tone. "To make such statements is a stain upon the honor of the accuser. But then, what would you know of honor? The Araithalen notion of what constitutes virtue is downright laughable!"
Bachis glared at Kuojin as he struggled to stand upright, having been dropped to a knee with the force of the Prince's blow.
"Had you submitted to us, you would have been allowed to keep your holdings and lived in peace, but your ignorance and spite have rendered that forfeit." Kuojin glanced towards her. "I declare that as a direct descendant of House Fiori, you are now the holder of all the privilege and wealth that comes with being the head of House Fiori."
Sialeni was able to keep herself calm, while inwardly reeling with shock and confusion at having suddenly been made an obermon. To be sure, under Azami's regime, she was not the first woman to achieve such a position, but she'd been content enough for the title of 'Lady Starsmore'.
Kuojin winked at her before guiding her back to the side. Already the royal scribes were penning this pronouncement, just as they did for anything else that Azami or her nephew might declare.
"Take him to the dungeon," Azami stated with an imperious wave of her hand.
"What about us?" one of Bachis's guards asked nervously.
"Return to your homes and families," Azami replied with a cool shrug.
o0o
Being a prince came with its privileges, but there were plenty of obligations to attend to. It was not until after supper that he was able to have some quiet time with Sialeni. Though the Thamonese did not have such a narrow sense of propriety as the Araithalens did, Kuojin was still careful to consider the circumstances in which he and Sialeni were together. The garden provided ample privacy for conversation but was still an open enough area that even other Thamonese couldn't accuse the pair of doing anything that might be deemed salacious.
"So. This matter about my grandfather..." Sialeni ventured. He turned to face her, noting how the limited moonlight made her hair look like spun silver.
"I wanted to see his reaction when I bequeathed his power to you," Kuojin replied with an unrepentant grin. "What was it about his grandson?"
"Oh, that. A few years ago, there was discussion of a marriage between me and my cousin. I really didn't like him, so..."
"Ahh." it was not uncommon in Onshae Thamo for cousins to marry one another, to strengthen the position of both families involved. "I take it you drove him off."
She smiled a little, folding her hands together in front of her, presenting the image of a demure lady, the dark color of her dress highlighting the paleness of her hands. "Indeed. He was almost as bad as the old man, and I was determined that I would not have a husband like that, much less live under the same roof as Grandfather."
"I do not doubt that." Kuojin paused as a sober thought came to him. Given Sialeni's refusal to conform to many Araithalen norms, he did not doubt that Heliert, sooner or later, would have found a way to deal with his daughter. One day, Heliert would have forced Sialeni into marriage or a convent… or taken far more drastic measures. She was, after all, almost twenty-one, and that was significant in the Araithalen order of things.
"Still, what am I to do with my newfound wealth?" Sialeni asked.
"Do with it as you please."
"Really?"
"Why should that be so surprising? I know the Thamonese have not been here that long, but you certainly seem to be accepting of our ways."
"As you have just pointed out, you have not been here for long. I grew up in a culture where every day, I was discriminated in some way simply for my sex."
Kuojin felt a wince tug at his face. He understood all too well how it felt to be discriminated against for something one had no control over.
"I was born and raised in Araithale. Having the appearance of being half Hgngish was not a very good… condition to be in, either."
"No. Oh, of course." She looked down at her hands. Kuojin stared at her for a couple of moments, debating his next course of action. He found it difficult to resist the temptation to touch or kiss her, especially during their walks, but he wasn't foolish enough to think that the respect she regarded him with meant that she mirrored the depth of his feelings.
His hands reached out to touch her upper arms, grasping them gently. She stiffened, but to his relief, did not pull away. His hands almost trembled as he registered her flesh under his palms.
"I understand that it can be overwhelming, despite your best efforts to… adapt. Everything you've known changes. Your position is suddenly elevated, but you're so used to being treated as something far less that it surprises you when something that has been an obstacle to you is no longer such."
She inhaled slowly before nodding. "Yes. That's it. Not just for me, but others here. Although I do not doubt that many men are unhappy as well."
"There is that," he acknowledged. "However, at least some of these men will realize that this is better for them."
She gave out a small snort. "Really? Why would someone enjoy their loss of power and privilege? According to your laws, brothers now have to share their inheritance with their sisters. A husband no longer has the right to beat his wife or children as he chooses, or demand blind obedience. You know that many Araithalen men will be resentful of women who have more talent and intelligence than them, now that it is legal for women to be educated or employed in the same manner as males."
"The Araithalen way of thinking oppresses many men in its way."
"How is that possible?" Sialeni asked incredulously as she eased herself from his hands. He drew them back as he looked down at her.
"Since women were banned from most occupations, the burden of supporting one's family rests on the man's shoulders. If a man is ill and unable to work, his wife or other female relatives have little means to bring money into the household. They could sew, or cook, or do laundry, but these jobs pay rather poorly compared to that of say, a blacksmith, carpenter, or merchant, occupations which, according to the Heavenly Father, are fit for men only. It was very difficult for my mother to support us. A woman who becomes a servant in another household risks sexual harassment and abuse from her employers, and you know what can happen from that." Kuojin remembered, with more than a bit of bitterness, how his mother had gone into employment as a maid, and the master of the household had tried to force himself on her. Rejecting his advances had cost her her job.
"Not only that, but I remember very well how an Araithalen man is not ever supposed to be seen crying, or showing emotions. Discouraging softness or kindness only fosters selfishness and cruelty."
"I hadn't thought about that… but yes. You are correct." She raised an eyebrow. "So it is permissible for a Thamonese man to weep?"
He smiled at that. "As a whole, emotions and softness are still seen as… feminine traits, though not strictly so. It would be considered a disgrace to mock a man who weeps at the death of a family member or friend. The kindness shown towards an animal, or an inform person, or a child, is seen as a manifestation of a good heart, not a weak one. I have a friend who took in a litter of orphan kittens after it seemed apparent that their mother was either dead or had abandoned them. He carried them home in his robe and fed them goat milk and mashed-up fish. Now they keep his larder free of mice, and are some of the most contented and spoiled creatures I have ever seen."
Kuojin was silent for several moments as he looked down at her. "Be frank with me, Sialeni. Would you rather remain here than going to Onshae Thamo with me?"
"I… I do not know."
He was relieved that she, at least, did not automatically reject the idea of life in Onshae Thamo.
"I have already made my assurances about your safety and well-being in Onshae Thamo. Is there anything else I can say or do?" he asked gently.
"No."
Well. He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or concerned. He sensed that the conversation, at least for the time being, had come to its natural end, yet he was not eager to be parted from her so soon. Being in her presence was more satisfying than any of the dreams he'd had of her during their years apart, yet he yearned for more.
Reaching out to her, he gently pulled her into his embrace. It was the most physical contact he'd had with her since he'd pulled her out of the river so long ago. She stiffened, and he rested one hand on her back between her shoulders. The scent of freesia filled his nostrils as he lightly rested the side of his chin against her temple.
His body was quick to respond to the very closeness of the woman he desired, and it took what seemed like an inhuman amount of self-control to keep the stirrings of lust contained, focusing on the warm knot in the pit of his stomach. His loins stirred, and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and sending his rebellious body a firm command.
Sialeni's hands remained in front of her, lightly pressing against his stomach. His embrace tightened, and for several delicious moments, he imagined carrying her off to his bed and revealing to her the depths of his admiration for her. At the very least, he longed to taste of these soft, pink lips. As if she sensed his thoughts, he felt her shiver.
Reluctantly, his arms slid away from her. She was looking down at the ground, and he touched her chin, feeling light resistance as he angled her face so he could see it. Having long since adjusted to the semidarkness of the garden, he was stunned to see her eyes glisten with unshed tears.
"Sialeni… are you well?" he asked. She blinked rapidly and took a step back, turning her face from his view.
"I… I am tired," she whispered.
"Sialeni." He took a step towards her.
"It is time for me to retire. Good night, Prince Kuojin." His name and title were uttered with formality. As she retreated, he was tempted to go after her, to take her into his arms again and reassure her that she need not fear him.
"Sweet dreams, my princess," he whispered.