Court of Snakes: This Desert Cage

Small Talk - The Palace | June of the Second Year

A knock resonated off Parisa's door, and she took a moment to finish fastening her necklace and to look herself over in the mirror. While she was not in the most elegant dress in the whole world, she looked nice. Her toned arms would give her away in any crowd, and even though she was going to a fancy dinner, a party, nothing more, she still kept her knife slipped into a sheath on her thigh. If she had to, she could tear the dress and stab anyone foolish enough to put her or anyone else in danger. Her father had done his job, she supposed. He had made a weapon.

Even though she wore nothing too far out of the ordinary, it was still not her uniform, and that made her happy. She missed clothes like these. An errant curl tried to spiral its way off her head and Parisa grabbed for more hair butter to keep it in place when the knock rattled off again. Once she was certain she looked presentable, she opened the door.

Rune Guildenhart was there, dressed for dinner. He bowed and smiled as he had before. "Good evening, Lady Parisa."

"Good evening," she replied, her own curiosity betraying her. What could he possibly want?

"I was wondering, if you'll let me, if I could escort you to dinner," he inquired.

"Sure, I suppose," Parisa replied. She was actually quite disappointed. She had hoped Perseus would come to escort her, but he was nowhere to be found and terribly late. "You're very kind."

"I wish to make as many friends as I can. With what happened to my father and all, I feel rather awkward, replacing him as though he never existed."

"How did he pass?"

"He drowned, strangled by thugs and tossed into a well."

"How horrible."

"Truly."

"It can't possibly be that hard, though," Parisa mused as they walked. "You must have everything I ever wanted."

"In a den of coyotes, perhaps," Rune replied. "Here, you play by others' rules or you get eaten. A good first impression is everything."

"So that's all this is? Another good impression?"

"You misunderstand," Rune fumbled and tripped over his words. "It is not just that."

"You should choose your words more carefully, Lord Guildenhart. If you continue conversations that way, you will have more enemies than friends. And you can stop calling me Lady Parisa."

"Is that not the correct title?"

"As I said, I am no longer the Sovereign's daughter. You may call me Lieutenant Sauveterre, as that is my title."

"You're critical, Lieutenant, and that is why I am nervous. I respect you the most out of anyone in this place, and I suppose my lack of poise comes from my desire to befriend you."

The glass elevator doors opened and the two of them stepped into the tight space. Parisa's hand brushed the top of her knife under the skirt of her dress and she sighed. The servant in the elevator pulled the lever and the two of them rode up a floor.

Parisa laughed, "You're full of bull. No one here respects me. I'm the trash my father threw out."

"That is why I respect you, because no one here understands in the slightest what it means to be tested. You must be tough."

"What do you mean?"

"I have been thinking... about your being in the Elite. I know I would not be able to do it. You must be strong-willed."

"Well, thank you," Parisa edged out. He confused her, with his eloquence and understanding. Since she had been born, her father had not seen her as anything more than a doormat and the only people she knew that seemed to give a damn were Perseus and Esmond. Now, here came this newcomer who seemed to know everything about being stomped on. How could he? she wondered. He has been raised off milk and honey, just like the rest of them.