Choices weave fate and
destiny together to form a cloth of desires checked and indulged, hopes
realized and shattered. But like children, choices made are not content to
forever follow their maker's will. In time, even the smallest can grow from
thread to pattern to tapestry, until even the weaver cannot understand what he
has wrought.
In the Hall of Kings, the
Crown Princess settles the ducal circlet upon the woman's brow. "Paloma Jitani, We name you
Duchess of Crystalfen, and We accept your fealty to Our person and the
In five days, the manor at Whitelady burns to the ground. Nineteen bodies are found within
when, three days later, the last embers cool.
In nine days, the Viscount
of Vallonbrume is stripped of his title by his
father, who cites that he needs the viscounty for
"other things." When he travels to his father's estate, the
once-viscount is dismissed offhandedly: the duke is too busy by far to see his
only Issorat son.
In thirteen days, the
Viscount of Three Trees receives word from his rural estate. His second
daughter, fourteen years old, is dead. When he rides to his estate, he learns
the circumstances of her demise: she vanished one night, and in the morning was
found nailed to his home's front door.
Now, though, three steps
behind his sister, Hideo Sone frowns, and the light of the setting sun stains
his eyes like blood spilled on gold.
The Yuasa Highlands, 202
Alessandro put his hand on Martin’s shoulder, “I don’t suppose I can put off dealing with them any longer, can I?”
Martin grinned and started to speak, but Romana cleared her throat, “Your Highness, the Yuasa have already provided us with generous gifts of supplies, not to mention their promise of men. Please don’t—”
Alessandro slashed his hand across his throat, and resisted his urge to snap at his secretary. “I know, Romana.” He sighed. “Take me to them. I’m resigned to another endless night of Yuasa dissembling. I can hardly wait.” He gave Martin a friendly shove. “Have fun for me tonight, Martin.”
“Aye, my prince,” the guardsman nodded sympathetically. “We’ll raise a tankard to you, I swear. Don’t let those northern goats keep you awake until dawn.”
Alessandro favored Martin with a grin of his own, “Not a chance, my friend. Not a chance.” He scooped up his blade and left the command tent with thunder-faced Romana on his heels.
Seeing the Yuasa delegation, Alessandro felt an immediate urge to flee. As he had expected, Felix Yuasa headed the Yuasa diplomatic envoy. The old liar looked as smug as ever in a sharply tailored velvet doublet that would have been pretentious on any other man. Worn by the wily Duke of Highview, still handsome as he pushed seventy years of age, it served to set Felix above the grime and stench of the camp. Alessandro’s attention only rested on the duke for an instant before he noticed the slim, pale young woman on his arm. She wore an unornamented gown of a violet deeper than irises, belted tightly with a chain of braided silver. Despite its simple lines, the rich fabric drew Alessandro's eyes to the woman's lithe, entrancing figure, evoking in him the now-familiar desire for more intimate knowledge of her body. She wore her raven-dark hair like a maiden, twisted around her face into two coiled braids, and when she met his gaze, Alessandro saw that her eyes were a gray-flecked violet more intense than her gown. She ducked her head at his attention, and he watched a ruby flush spread across her cream-white skin.
Distracted by the woman’s beauty, it took Alessandro a moment to realize that Romana and Felix had already begun introductions. Automatically, he nodded and smiled, and Felix beamed like a benevolent professor instructing a wayward student. “And this,” Felix guided the woman forward, “is my grand-niece, Violaine Yuasa. Violaine has often spoken of a wish to meet Your Highness.”
Violaine curtseyed before Alessandro, irresistibly drawing his attention to the swell of her breasts. Her skin could have been polished ivory; only the traces of her embarrassment broke its purity. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, then watched another radiant blush spread across her face. “My lady,” he spoke, “had I known of your wish, I would not have hesitated to fulfill it seasons ago.”
“Your Highness is too kind,” she answered, the soft sensuality of her voice thrilling him. “My dear uncle feels I might learn from observing these negotiations. I hope his faith in me is well-placed.” She smiled demurely, and though she kept her head lowered, Alessandro could feel her eyes upon him.
Felix took Violaine’s arm in his own. “Come, Your Highness. It grows late, and we have much to talk about. Let us waste no more time.”
Felix was as good as his word.
As the night dragged on, the Yuasa duke introduced detail after detail to the
negotiations between the prince and the duke’s family. From arms and supplies
down to border disputes with the
Bearing an expression of ruffled patience, the duke shrugged, “Well, perhaps, but with so many matters before us, it seems a shame to let even a moment slip by. Perhaps your secretary and I can—”
Alessandro waved the hand. “Fine. Romana, Your Grace, goodnight.” He sank back into his chair and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the day upon him like a coat of mail. He waited, listening to the assembled envoys make their farewells and depart from his tent.
When the noises stopped and he opened his eyes, he discovered that he was not alone. Violaine Yuasa had spent the duration of the negotiations seated in the corner of the tent, and she sat there still. She smiled mildly as he noticed her, and murmured, “You look so tired, Your Highness. I was worried. Can I do anything to make you more comfortable?”
At her words, Alessandro came fully awake. In the candlelight, her face was luminous, and her eyes shone with heartfelt concern. “I am touched that you are worried about me, my lady. While your uncle and I have a lot to discuss, I fear I do not have the endurance he possesses for such business.” He offered her his best smile, and ran a hand through his hair. “He has doubtless sat through so many meetings like this that he no longer worries about doing anything else.”
She inhaled sharply. Alessandro bit his lip, realizing his words could be taken as insult. But before he could speak, she rose from her seat, and crossed the tent towards him, “My lord, no. This is not something he has done before. Never before has this – the Church, your father, all of it – happened. What happens here matters so much to the future of Komaru….” The words tumbled from her mouth, and at her approach, Alessandro started to stand. Before he escaped from his chair, she sank to her knees in front of him and reached out to cover his hands with her own. “So many people have suffered, and you are the key to ending it.”
As she looked up into his eyes, Alessandro scented her rose-and-heather perfume. The soft touch of her hands on his and the delicate beauty of her scent banished the last traces of his exhaustion. His blood warmed by her nearness, he asked, “And you, my lady, are you among those who have suffered?”
She shifted her weight into his hands as she drew nearer to him, her eyes bright as stars. “Please call me Violaine, Your Highness, and I have, and will again before this ends. But tonight, I am not here to speak of my suffering…” her words trailed off, turning her head to settle it against his chest.
Her touch sent a surge of desire through his body, and he lifted her hands to see her shining eyes again. “Beautiful Violaine,” he whispered, “I am your servant. Let there be no more talk of suffering, not tonight.” At his murmur, her eyes closed and her lips parted, and Alessandro needed no further invitation. He kissed her once, twice, a dozen times by the candlelight, and lay down with her amidst silken pillows and plans of war.
Making love to Violaine was like stopping time in the last glimmer of a beautiful dream. As he unlaced her gown, Alessandro discovered that her body held every piece of the promised beauty he had hungered for, but even that paled beside the empathy she brought to the tryst. With crystalline clarity, she saw his desires and answered every one, from the first instant of their kiss until his last moment of exhausted consciousness, twined in her arms in the wake of their passion.
Alessandro woke to the sensation of a soft hand caressing his cheek. He blinked away sleep, and Violaine smiled gently and leaned over to kiss his forehead. Confused, he observed that she was wearing her gown again, veiled beneath one of his spring cloaks. “Leaving me?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, Your Highness—”
“Please, after tonight, call me Alessandro.”
She dimpled as she smiled again, but he saw something sad in her eyes. He sat up, fighting the blanket of exhaustion that still clung to him. She leaned close again to kiss his cheek, but pulled away as he attempted to return the kiss. “Your High—Alessandro. Please don’t."
"Why not?" Alessandro teased her. "I enjoyed my time with you far more than my time with your uncle. Far better we spend hours on this than on—"
Violaine flushed crimson. "There is something you do not know, Alessandro." She bit her lip, her expression agonized, then sighed as she came to a decision. "Please just listen to me, and then let me go.”
“I’ll listen, but why would I want to let you go?” Despite his best efforts, a hint of confused anger crept into his voice.
Violaine did not wilt before it. “Alessandro, you must listen to me. I am going to tell you this because although I barely know you, I sense that you are, or will grow to be, a good man, and because I think you will make a good Crown Prince. More than that, I think we are alike—let me finish! My uncle sent me here tonight to conceive your child.”
Alessandro’s anger fell away around him, leaving him awash in a sea of bewilderment. “What?”
Violaine nodded, her expression grim sobriety. “You don’t understand what you represent, Alessandro. You are by far the best link left to the throne. Your wife will bear you a new dynasty of Komaru, replacing all of the brothers and sisters you have lost. The family that binds you to their side by providing you with a wife will be the cornerstone of that dynasty. My uncle wants me to be your wife.”
The prince’s mind raced as he followed Violaine’s words. “Your cycle isn’t blocked. If you conceive, the Yuasa will either pressure me to marry you, or declare our child an heir to the throne….” He stared at her in shock and horror. “How could you be part of this plan?”
She shook her head. “Not willingly. My uncle had my cycle unblocked before he brought me here.” Alessandro saw pain in her eyes. “I lied to you in presenting myself to you as I did, and lied in offering myself to you, but I did not lie about what you represent. You are the promise of the future, Alessandro, but I did not want to seduce you to bear your child.” She looked down at the floor, her disarrayed hair falling in an ebon cascade over her shoulder. “I have reasons of my own for not wanting a child. Before I came to you, I had my cycle blocked again. My uncle doesn’t know, and my physician won’t tell him. I will leave you, and my uncle will be pleased that I have done what he commanded. But nothing will come of it, and I will be sent to you again. When that happens, you will refuse me, and you will be free of me.”
Alessandro punched at a pillow beside him helplessly. “This is too much. You seduce me and confess to a plan to trap me. I should have you in chains for daring to do this—”
Violaine’s head whipped up as though she had been slapped, but her eyes were hard. Her sharp whisper cut through his words. “Your Highness, please listen to me. You are not the only victim here. I have been given no choice. None. Now, I am trying to help you. All of the families will try to do what mine has already attempted. If you want to fulfill your promise to the kingdom’s future, you must find your own way, free of their snares. A dozen Violaines will be offered to you, and you must resist every one.” She sank into the pillows, a weary, sad girl. “If you ever want to be free, you must.”
Alessandro’s anger bled away into the night, crushed beneath Violaine’s emphatic plea. He murmured, “I understand. And…” he sighed, his head falling between his knees, “I must thank you.”
She kissed him on the forehead one last time, leaving only the fading scent of mountain flowers in her wake.
The County of Broken Wall, 235
As the last of the Yuasa fell
back towards the battered fortifications of Broken Wall, Mineko
Minamet nodded to her aide. Scarcely containing his grin, the young soldier
pulled a great fan from the skirt of his horse's barding and spread it before
him. The fan was sky blue, the color of victory, and as Mineko
watched, she saw a cloaked figure, surrounded by twenty
white-masked Grim, detach itself from the rear of her army and ride to
meet her.
"Where are these
emissaries?" Mineko demanded of the hooded
figure when it reined in its horse beside her. "We don't have much time.
The Yuasa are beaten, but they may sortie again to cover their retreat from the
town." My town, her heart
whispered. She remembered her father holding her hand as they stood together on
its battlements, back when it was still Wall and a hundred Komaru guns had yet
to break it open, its once-impenetrable fortifications rendered as brittle as
eggshell.
Violaine Asawa pulled her hood back
and met Mineko's gaze. "They're here already,
Your Grace. They're watching." Her utter confidence in her words was as
disquieting as the amethyst intensity of her gaze. It bothered Mineko to feel drawn to the woman, with her flawless Yuasa
features and raven-black hair, her pale skin and jewel-bright eyes. She knew Violaine as more than the prophet: she knew the woman's
discomfort with her role, the reasons for her fits of sickness, her loneliness
and history of loss. But it still pained her that one who once bore the Yuasa
name had such influence over the entirety of her family.
Mineko looked away, out to the hills. The northern spur of
the
Violaine gasped, and pointed to a stand of pines. Mineko saw a flicker of movement, and then another. They
raced impossibly quickly towards her, two horse-sized shapes colored green and
blue and black, a glitter of light sparkling about them. The Grim clustered
close around their ward, their blades out, but Violaine
laughed with joy. "These are whom we were waiting for. These, at last, are
the Naga," she cried, and Mineko
saw her weeping tears of joy.
Seeing them, Mineko had an instant's impression of their great size
before their shapes blurred again, collapsing in upon themselves in a shimmer
of reflected light and leaving behind two figures, one man, one woman. Mineko's heart pounded in her chest at their beauty – they
could have been carved from pale jade by the most masterful of sculptors, so
perfectly formed that they could not help but come to life. Both had eyes like
molten silver, and braided hair the gray of a clouded sky. Each bore a weapon
of carved crystal, a belt and baldric of glossy snakeskin, and nothing more. Mineko watched the male shift nervously from one foot to another,
passing his curved blade from hand to hand. With each motion, his tension
transmitted itself through his body, his muscles rippling with contained power.
Mineko's face grew warm at his nakedness,
and hotter yet when his eyes met hers as she wondered at it.
Beside her, she saw her
aide Tomo gaping at the female, his cheeks burning
crimson. Mineko saw her argent eyes flicking from
face to face, her expression equal parts suspicion and curiosity. Her fingers
plucked at the string of the crystalline bow she held in her hands, and Mineko took in the quiver of white-feathered arrows at her
hip before comprehending exactly why even the stoic Grim were eyeing her with
rapt fascination. "Stop staring," Mineko
snapped at her entourage, while in the back of her mind she found herself
comparing the female's curvy, muscular body to Aimee's, and wondering just how
strong she had to be—
Violaine stepped forward, and dropped to her knee before the
two. "My brother, my sister, I welcome you. We are one people."
The male studied her, and
frowned. In a voice as deep as thunder, he stated, "You stink of the
murderers."
Mineko saw Violaine blanch in pain
and sudden fear, her confidence stripped away. "Your—" she gasped,
and in an instant her bearing transformed from defeated to triumphant. Rising
from the ground, she stood boldly before the two Naga
and said, "In judging my host, you judge yourselves. Despite the accident of
her birth, she is one of us now. Treat her as you would any of our kind."
The note of command in Violaine's voice took both Naga
aback, and they exchanged glances with each other before returning their
attention to Violaine. In a voice like music, the
female inclined her head. "Our apologies, elder.
We erred in not recognizing you. We have lost many of our crèche to the
murderers, and we are diminished by the loss. We are here to speak for the
dead. We are here to speak for the Asawa. We are here
to speak for the Naga. All are one within us, and we
speak for all. Take us to the avatar. Take us to the queen."
Violaine nodded in answer, and her carriage changed again.
With a small curtsey to the two Naga, she murmured,
"Her Grace Mineko Minamet will escort you to the
Royal Capital. There, you will meet with the Crown Princess. There, you will
speak for all our kind."
With the faintest of nods,
the two Naga strode past Violaine
to approach Mineko. "We are in your care, lady
of the Minamet," the male spoke in deep, respectful tones that sent chills
down her spine. Arms akimbo, he presented himself before her. "We are in
your service until we reach our destination. Your wishes are our desires. Your
commands are our will. Your needs are our goals. Tell us what we must do for
you."
Mineko looked down at the two Naga,
so alien, so familiar. They tugged at her heart the same way Violaine did, but with a total innocence and absence of
shame that whispered that they meant every word of their vow to serve her.
Admiration for their sincerity and devotion warred with sudden comprehension of
just what would happen to them when they arrived in the Royal Capital, as naïve
as babies. She looked down at the two once more, their emotions as unconcealed
as their flawless bodies, imagining them meeting Arabelle
Sone, Zoe Komaru, or Glory
Confused but obedient, the
two Naga bowed to her, "If you will provide us
with some, we will." From the ranks of the Grim, Mineko
heard the faintest murmur of disappointment.
The Yuasa sortie came less
than thirty minutes later, and try though she might, Mineko
could not keep the two Naga from the fight. She
watched the female fell one doomed soldier after another with unerring
crystal-tipped arrows. She watched the male dance gracefully amidst a troop of
rangers, his razor-sharp blade slicing through flesh and bone without
resistance. "We believe we will need new clothing now," the male had
stated when he was through, unhesitatingly stripping out of his ruined attire
to stand naked before her yet again.
When
Violaine?
Sleep enveloped her.
In the morning, the Asawa prophet's face showed no trace of tears.
It is my eighteenth birthday, and my mother has given
me this book to act as a diary of my life. I am told that every
I became a woman on the night of my fifteenth
birthday. I hear some
But then that horrible Yaeko
insulted me, and I chose her brother. I didn't do it just to spite her. Ryouichi is so pretty, with deep brown eyes and pale skin.
Everyone says my skin is so beautiful, but I just don't see it. I'd rather be
pale than have this golden skin, and anyone who wouldn't just doesn't know how
hard it is to look different. So, I chose Ryouichi,
and
I can't even write about it. Looking back, I think it
was his first time too, and I don't think anyone told him what to expect the
way they told me what to expect. He was, after all, a year younger than me.
The next morning, things got bad. That horrible Yaeko delivered a challenge to me, and mom told me that I
should ask Ryouichi to be my champion. I should never
have listened to her.
He wouldn't do it, but then mom found someone who would:
Emerald
That horrible Yaeko's
champion was Marius Komaru, her older brother. As awful as Yaeko
is, with her fat thighs, her shamelessness in waving her breasts in front of
her, and her terrible complexion, I have to admit that her brothers are all
very pretty, not just Ryouichi. And he fought well
too, but Emerald had already cut his sword arm to the bone when Marius ran his blade
through Emerald's chest. I don't like duels. I'm glad mom was there to heal
Emerald before he bled to death.
I don't know how to say how happy I was that Emerald
had fought for me. All I wanted to do was repay him for his kindness, and I am
afraid I might have gone too far. Ryouichi was too
young for me; Emerald was a man, and Ryouichi only a boy. But even then, I was learning that as
a woman I was stronger than any man. I had something both Emerald and Ryouichi wanted, and I was learning to use it.
It's been three years since that day, and a lot has
happened since. I am still engaged to Ryouichi
Komaru, but I don't see him any more. Two years ago, Yaeko
gave birth to twins – they say they're pretty as dolls, which I just can't
believe. She won't acknowledge the father, but I think I know who it had to be.
I worry that I will be married to him against my will. Emerald
Sometimes, that first year, I would arrange to meet
Emerald by accident when he took a break from working with my mother. Sometimes,
I would arrange to meet him after he finished. I learned, over that year, that
I had power over him, but that it was a weak power. I do not think he loved me,
but I loved him, and that was enough. I survived on a diet of stolen kisses and
my hopes for the future.
The second year was harder. I grew weak, and I told
Emerald about my feelings for him. I couldn't help it. My brother, my twin – we
had to send a maid away, when she got pregnant with his child. I became an aunt
this year, and I'm only eighteen. Isn't that funny? I don't know where my niece
is, and neither does Ash. For a while, he was angry at mother, but now he
doesn't ask about her any more. I think he is just as glad the child is gone. But
before the girl was made to leave, she was so radiant, so sure of herself. I
was jealous of her – jealous that she was loved while no one loved me. So I
told Emerald about the feelings in my heart.
When I told him, he looked stricken, and my heart
nearly shattered. I told him I needed him, and he said I had no idea what I was
asking for. But I am stronger than he is, and when I offered him my love, he
could not refuse it. Sometimes, after he visited my mother, we made love in the
garden, in the basement, in the closets. I think mother knew. I think everyone
knew. But no one said anything about it.
Now it has been three years, and I don't know how much
longer this can go on without killing me. I know a secret, you see. I saw what
sort of work my mother and my lover do together, in the privacy of the study,
for hours, alone.
My mother has given me a diary, to hold my secrets.
This is my biggest secret: I am sleeping with the same
man as my mother, and when I have him, it is because she has chosen to let me
have him.
I want to hate Emerald for not choosing one of us. I
want to make him make a choice, but I cannot. First, it would be hypocrisy. He
is doing what a
My mother is leaving now, to go to Alban and spend
some time with my father. She has requested that Emerald join her to continue
their "studies." I do not know if he will go. I do not know if I will
go, or be left here.
I do not know anything at all.
There. Those are my secret thoughts.
Adriana Komaru sat on the
balcony, waiting and watching the city. It spread out before her, its thousands
of flickering lights possessed of a vibrant energy that stood in bold
counterpoint to the cool serenity of the twinkling stars overhead. The night
breeze bore the scent of apple blossoms up from the Royal District's gardens,
masking the city's perpetual stench. She set down her empty glass of wine and closed
her eyes, enjoying the evening's beauty, but unable to escape the knot of
disquiet deep inside her.
She wondered where her
mother was. Kimiko should have been here half an hour
ago to discuss the problems in the north. The Yuasa never seemed satisfied –
she swore the family wanted her to solve all their problems for them. And
Laurent—
A knock at the door
interrupted her thoughts. Adriana breathed a sigh of relief that her mother had
arrived at last. She stood up, heading into her receiving room. "Mother,
I—"
While he wore her mother's
livery, the young man standing beside Delphine Courtenay was definitely not her mother. He looked
familiar, with his honey-brown Sone eyes and his black hair caught up in a
short braid, but she could not place him. "Who are you?" Adriana
demanded.
With a pained expression,
he bowed before her. "My name is Francis Sone, Your Royal Highness. I am
your mother's…" reluctantly, he added, "page."
Adriana laughed despite
herself. "Aren't you a little old to be a page?" His skin, touched by
a hint of gold, and his leanness told her he had a
With wounded dignity,
Francis answered, "I am nevertheless your mother's page, Your Royal
Highness, and she has sent me to convey her regrets that she is detained this
evening, and her hopes that you can work on the documents I bear and send me
back with them tonight so she can resolve them in the morning." Adriana
could tell he had memorized Kimiko's instructions,
word-for-word.
Suppressing her annoyance,
she said, "Fine. I don't think you really need to wait here, Lord Francis.
If you just give me what she sent you, I can take a look at it and have it
returned to her by servant."
She reached for the heavy
satchel he was carrying, and to her surprise he pulled it out of her reach, an
expression of barely-concealed horror writ across his face. "Your Royal
Highness, Her Grace was extremely explicit in her instructions to me—" He
stepped quickly back towards the door, clutching the satchel as though it were his
most precious possession. Behind her, Adriana heard Delphine
make a strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
The Crown Princess took a
deep breath. "Do you have any idea why it is so important that you carry
this back yourself tonight, Lord Francis?"
He shook his head,
"All I know is that she said I had to, or else I'd be—" He stopped.
"You'd be?"
Adriana probed, her curiosity piqued.
He sighed, shaking his
head. "It doesn't matter, Your Royal Highness. Please, let me complete my
task. It's all I ask."
Adriana looked him over.
Some people, she knew, took her title more seriously than others. Her Royal
Champion, for instance, found her title cute; she knew respect was only a small
part of what he intended when he called her 'princess.' Francis, in contrast,
seemed totally and completely overwhelmed by her position, but somehow still
dared to disobey her requests. She wondered what her mother had threatened him
with. "Well," she shrugged, "if you won't go, you can at least
come eat some of the food set out for my mother and I while I look over what
you brought."
Sounding cautiously
relieved, Francis assented. "I suppose that would be acceptable, Your Royal Highness." He handed her the bag, and
followed her to the now-cold meal set on the edge of the balcony.
Francis began by picking at
the food timidly, but by the time Adriana finished her first pass through Kimiko's bewildering sheaf of missives, she noticed that
half of the food was missing, and her bottle of wine was now completely empty.
"Does my mother not feed you?" she asked archly, eyeing the ruins of
a particularly gelatinous mound of beef pastry.
Francis reddened, abruptly
angry. "I don't get fed like I'm the Crown Princess, no," he
answered, then turned pale white. "I'm sorry, Your
Royal Highness. I am not used to…" he grasped for words, "this
luxury."
Adriana stared at him, and
then poked at a plate of flaccid, gooey vegetables with a chopstick. "My
lord, I did not mean to insult your dignity. Had I known you were hungry, I
could have sent for some warm food." She stood up to call a servant.
"I still can—"
"No, please,"
Francis implored her. "Not on my account, Your
Royal Highness." Sheepishly, he said, "Besides, I'm quite full."
She shrugged again,
"If you're certain." Glancing down at the papers, her irritation
returned. "Lord Francis, can you provide any insight as to why my mother
is so interested in obtaining my approval for the transfer of," she reread
the passage, "what appears to be a corner of another Sone duchy into her
own lands? As near as I can tell, there's nothing special
about—" She saw Francis turning purple. "What is it?"
"Your Royal
Highness," he answered in a strangled voice, "that corner of the land
belongs to my sister and I, our last inheritance from
our grandmother. Her Grace would like to improve upon our home there, but it is
not one of her holdings, and the present lord will not grant us
permission—"
Adriana checked the notes
again, "My lord, this says there's nothing there. How can it be your
home?" Francis was turning an ever-deepening shade of violet, and Adriana
could not decide if he was going to attack her or run from the room in shame.
She sighed, "Tell me, my lord. I'm certain my mother sent you here for a
reason."
Reluctantly, he obeyed. His
story astonished Adriana. Francis was the grandson of the previous Duke of Yamazakura Kukkyoku, Sone Yukashii. As one of the duke's last commands before his
retirement, Francis has been sent, along with his mother, and younger sister,
to live in a woodcutter's shack, with no stipend save what they could raise
from the land. His mother had died two years ago, and Kimiko
Sone had apparently decided it was time for Francis to do something other than
live in abject poverty. However, the current Duke of Yamazakura
Kukkyoku was no more well-disposed towards Francis
than his father had been—
"Wait!" Adriana
interrupted. "That means you're thirty years old!"
Francis looked defensive. "So what?"
"You shouldn't be
serving as a page! You're older than I am!" She laughed again, knowing she
shouldn't. She felt bad for Francis, but all his suffering struck her as
vaguely absurd. She suspected she knew why Kimiko had
chosen him for her house. He acted melodramatic and bitter, but beneath it, he
seemed vulnerable, sincere, and, Adriana giggled, vaguely adorable. The whole
matter was so stupid, and so easily resolvable—
"Stop laughing at
me!" Francis blurted out, his pride wounded. "I don't laugh when
people joke about you—" He snapped his mouth shut, shocked at what he had
said.
Adriana paled, her blood
turning to ice. "What do you mean? What do people 'joke about me?'"
she demanded, standing up, angry, aching.
For a moment, she thought
he would break, but then he met her gaze. "They say that you…" he
searched for words; his eyes were flecked with amber. "They
say you are always alone. That you want to be alone."
Adriana turned away, facing
out towards to balcony, to the dancing lights of the city. She crossed her arms
before her, fighting against the tears. "I never should have cried,"
she cursed herself. "I cried when they told me he was dead, in front of a
whole bloody castle of vultures. And I cried again when I went with Kiseki to tell his children he was dead."
"The Duke of Touraine
meant a lot to you," Francis ventured weakly.
She wheeled on him, angry,
crying again. "He was my teacher. For more than a decade, I looked up to
him and sought his approval. He died, and he left me alone. I don't know if he
approves—" A wracking sob took her words away.
Awkwardly, Francis
apologized. "Your Royal Highness, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say
anything. I can't imagine being in your position. You have a lot to bear, and I
shouldn't have lost my temper. But you're not alone. You have your
brother—" He stopped short. She could tell he thought he had said the
wrong thing again.
Adriana laughed weakly,
wiping away her tears with a sleeve. "I haven't seen my brother for a
week, Francis. Ever since the Naga arrived, he has
been cloistered with them. They talk, and I cannot understand the words. They
are…" she grasped for an explanation, a way to explain what happened
between the silver-eyed pair and her brother when they were together. Already,
the court whispered that her brother had fallen for Whispersong,
as the Minamet called the jade-skinned female. With heavy certainty, Adriana
knew Hideo was not in love with the serpent woman, but what passed between the
two was still beyond her reach.
Francis searched for
consoling words just as the door to Adriana's chambers opened again. Adriana
saw Ruby swagger in. He winked at Adriana automatically, and then stopped. In
an instant, he stood on the balcony between her and Francis, his hand on his
sword. "Who are you?" he glowered at Francis, "and what are you
doing to make my princess unhappy?"
Adriana saw Francis' hand
go to his belt automatically. "My name is Francis Sone, and I have done
nothing to hurt Her Royal Highness," he answered, emphasizing the title.
In something halfway
between a giggle and a sob, Adriana said, "Oh, Ruby, relax. He's my
mother's emissary. I'm just crying because I miss Jet. You know, same as
always," she said with false cheer. Ruby seemed unconvinced, so Adriana
punched him in the shoulder, wrinkling her nose involuntarily at the strong
scent of alcohol that engulfed him. "Knock it off. And go take a bath.
What were you doing, swimming in rotgut?"
Ruby's flush lived up to
his name. "Don't—"
From the far corner of the
room, Adriana heard Delphine snort in disgust.
"I'm leaving, Your Royal Highness," she called out, ignoring Ruby
entirely. "See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Delphine," Adriana answered with a smile as she
watched her bodyguard go. Fixing Ruby with her best what-did-you-do-wrong-now
look, Adriana said, "Go get a bath. I'm fine here. Just
doing paperwork."
Ruby looked dubiously at
Francis, and then out the door, in the direction of Delphine's
departure. "If you don't mind, princess…" He looked apprehensive.
"Go," she pushed
him towards the door. "Leave." With one final glare at Francis, he
departed, leaving Adriana giggling at his departure.
Cautiously, Francis asked,
"Are they…?"
Adriana nodded. "Sometimes. I wish he'd marry her, because she deserves
to be with someone who'd make her happy. But he's trying to find the woman whom
he will love just as much as the one he lost, or something melodramatic like
that."
Blind to the irony, Francis
said, "I think that's absurd. When I fall in love, I will only do so once.
Then, I will marry the woman, whatever stands between us, and we will be happy
together forever."
He sounded so deeply
serious that Adriana was unable to help herself. She patted him on the shoulder
awkwardly. "I can actually believe that you spent the last twenty five
years growing up in a woodcutter's shack, you know."
She could not tell whether
he was more embarrassed by her touch, or by her words. "Why do you keep
insulting me?" he asked, sounding like a kicked dog.
"I don't know,"
she giggled helplessly. "Somehow it's just easy, with you."
"I should go,"
Francis answered, stoic in his injury.
"Oh, don't,"
Adriana laughed. "We're not done with mother's damnable paperwork yet.
Besides, you're alone in the chambers of the Crown Princess, the woman who must
always be by herself, or—" She stopped, embarrassed as she realized what
she was saying.
Francis met her eyes. His
eyes were really lovely, she confessed, like Hideo's before he changed. She
felt dizzy looking into them. He kept staring at her. She was a princess; she
would not be the one to look away first, even if her face kept getting hotter—
He looked down. Adriana
searched for something to say, and found no words. He met her gaze again, his
lips moving, then stopping.
"Did you know that
yesterday Laurent Yuasa proposed to me?" she blurted out, not knowing why
she was saying it. "It wasn't romantic at all," she added,
"well, not really. He asked to meet me at the end of the Royal Council
proceedings, and came alone. He asked me to marry him, telling me it would put
an end to the Yuasa bickering once and for all. He told me that the marriage wouldn't
be anything but a chance for me to be free of all the plotting and scheming to
see me wed. He had a woman he loved more than any other, he told me, and that
they had children together – that he would marry her, if he could, but it was
forbidden. He told me that he thought I would know what it was like to be in a
position like that. He didn't think I would accept him, but he felt he had to
make the offer to me."
Quietly, Francis said,
"I don't think I'd ever do anything like that to a woman." He paused,
and added, "You'll turn him down?"
Adriana sighed. "I
should. I will have to." Wistfully, she said, "That's the promise
Aimee got, you know, when she wed. And now I know that she's lonely, and wants
her husband to love her, and only her. But she's too stubborn to tell him
so." She shook her head. "I don't want to end up like that."
Silence fell again. She was
restless, needy. She was talking too much, about the wrong things. She wondered
how, despite all that, she could still be so happy.
Reluctantly, Francis said,
"It's late, Your Royal Highness. I should probably go now."
She caught his hand. His
fingers were calloused, bearing the marks of a swordsman. "No," she
said, sure of herself. "You can't go yet." Content, she added,
"I haven't finished mother's paperwork yet, and you can't leave without
it, remember? So stay, and talk to me while I finish up. Please?"
Relieved but uncertain, he
inclined his head, "Yes, Your Royal Highness."
She smiled again, timid.
"Please, you can call me Adriana. Tell me what it was like growing up like
you did? And about your sister?"
Francis spoke, and Adriana
listened as she worked. She learned about Daphne Sone caring for Sone Yukashii after a stroke rendered him helpless,
and about her stepfather's strange duel with the fallen duke. She learned about
the breakup of Francis' mother's marriage when the Sone and
"Goodnight,
Adriana," he said, trying the name out.
"Goodnight,
Francis," she blushed as she answered. "Sleep well."
"Sweet dreams,"
he answered, looking away from her.
"Ugh," Ruby said,
sounding sickened as the young Sone turned to go.
Adriana watched the door
slid shut behind Francis, unconsciously holding the last of the paperwork to
her breast. His footsteps receded into the distance, and with a sigh, she
turned to clean up the table and prepare to retire for the night.
By the fireplace, Ruby
cleared his throat. She tilted her head to peer at him, and saw that he was
still staring at the door, a frown on his lips. "I don't like him,
princess. I think he's disrespectful, and immature. Someone should teach him
some manners."
Adriana could not help but
smile. "He's my mother's page, Ruby. You don't have to like him." But,
she thought, elated by the discovery, I know I do.
Choices are the lifeblood of our kind, what divides us
from animals. Every second, we make choices, drawing us together and shaping
the future. The choice we have gathered to make, the choice that will shape the
future of the
Komaru needs us.
The Light shall not fail.
-- Mona Vezay, Numina of the Bright Hand, addressing the Numinous Council
in 236.
It has been 236 years since
Paraceln's Vision remade the world.
In the west, the
In the north, the Naga advance, seeking vengeance for a crime the Yuasa claim
no one living has committed.
In the east, the Dawning
Star leaves Spear, for a home yet unnamed.
In the south, the Numini of the Church gather once again to choose one to
lead them, though more than one seat among them has been emptied.
And, once again, in
Dedication the sorcerers gather.