Of Whispers and Daggers ✓ [TLRQ #2]

Chapter 41.4 - Aster

I miss Leavi. I haven't seen her since the Kadranians broke in a week ago. It's a foolish thing to think about, though, especially since now...

"Deliver this to the Raenette Riszev, please." I give the page a note and a r'meuring. Janeaulí, likely at the prodding of Riszev's aunt, suggested I meet with the raenette today so we can 'become acquainted with one another.' It feels like a ridiculous request, but perhaps that's only because my first instinct is to avoid her entirely. It's childish; ignoring her won't stop them from selling me to another country.

I return to work, but the closer it gets to time to meet with the raenette, the more dread gathers into a shaky stone in my stomach. Combined with the continued tension of worrying about the next Kadranian attack, I almost regret taking a full portion for lunch.

I bite my lip, mentally composing a reason to postpone. I'm not feeling well. That's a poor omen and the oldest excuse in history. I'm busier than I expected. That's even ruder than the first.

"Ack." I shove some papers Solus sent me to review into a drawer and stand. This is just as much my responsibility as the papers are.

I meet her at the doors to the Auditorium Arbitrate. She's wearing another pant-dress thing, this time in deep red. I know it's the primary color of her flag, but it also being the Morineause mourning color seems macabrely appropriate. Her back is to me as she studies the door.

"It's pure blackwood," I offer, approaching.

She turns, and surprise lights her face like a glow crystal unexpectedly touched. "All of it?"

I smile. "It's how they gave it the silver threading." I offer my elbow. "Shall we?" She takes it, and I guide her out the main castle doors onto the cobblestone. "There are even a few blackwood trees that grow in our garden. When we get there, I can point them out to you, if you'd like." Something feels distinctly wrong about having such a pointless conversation when enemies glare at my walls.

"How would I not like?" she laughs.

I smile back. "Do you know much about magic then?" Perhaps life in Retra won't be such a thing to dread if she does.

"Some." Her boots scuff the stones, and the afternoon breeze rustles my hair. "Many of my, how do you say? Tutors?" She glances at me, and I nod. "My tutors were erizna."

My thoughts sour. I forgot about their obsession with deifying the origin of magic. Her teachers were all priestesses. We step off the cobblestone mainway onto the dirt paths surrounded by dead grass and sleeping hedges.

"Does my Morineause hurt your ears?" Her bluntness startles me out of my thoughts, and I turn to her, trying to recover my expression.

"Why would you say that, Raenette Riszev?"

"Your face..." She changes direction. "It is painful to hear someone"—her fingers scissor as she looks for the word—"butcher your home tongue." Her smile is wistful, and mine softens sympathetically. "I know my Morineause is not so good."