The Empty Ones (Fantasy Romance)

47. Nightbirds

"My name is Lysander, not the heir, Darcleé," he states, owning the self-irony.

"Would you like to be The heir Darcleé?" I ask. Somehow, his mood is contagious.

"God no," he answers right away and laughs wholeheartedly. "People think I envy my brother, and in some aspects I do, but certainly not in this one. And you are?"

"I am the second Mahrani of..."

"That I know. You were sitting up there with the Emperor. What's your name, though?"

"Zaretha."

"Oh. That's a nice name."

"Thank you. But it's against the rules for you to call me that," I state simply. "It would upset my husband."

"Oh yeah, I see. He seems like a man who gets upset easily."

Oh, you have no idea... And this guy is strangely courageous.

"Do you like to dance, my lady Zaretha?"

"Dance?" I ask, a bit confused.

"Yes, dance. Don't you dance in this country?"

"Hmm, no, not really. Mostly as a Mahrani, you are to be close with your husband alone."

"My goodness, it's only dancing. It's fun. I would like to show you, but I am afraid to upset your husband on my first night here."

He looks around the room.

"You know what. I can still show you. And if I do it with a woman without a husband, it shouldn't upset anybody."

He stands up and walks toward the sister of the Empress. I am surprised by his resourcefulness. Soon after, he talks to the singers and they start playing a foreign song in quize.

He bows in front of Lady Meralda and tells her something that makes her giggle. This is very surprising. This guy is very, very charming.

They move together to the music, spin and laugh, and it looks like they are having the time of their lives.

After the song ends, Lysander collapses with an exhausted sigh on the cushions to my left.

"Oh, Theon is going to kill me."

"Was this a diplomatic faux pas? I don't think it was. Lady Meralda had a great time, and it's good to be in her good graces. Not something I can tell about mysel, or so they say."

Me trying to be engaging and funny. What does this guy do to me?

"You think? I don't think my brother will think it was worth it when he has to carry me up all those stairs."

I look at him a bit uncertainly.

"These beauties only last a few hours, and if I do something exhausting that implies a lot of moving like, say, dancing, it becomes less and less," he says, knocking on his shins that sound back... Metallic?

"What is an hour?" I ask to distract myself and him from the actual question, 'how can he walk with metal legs?'.

"Oh, it's how we measure time in Tajir. It's oriented by the movement of the spheres in heaven, but it's more concrete and traceable. For example, the time between each dawn is about twelve hours. Why twelve? Because the red moon draws a perfect circle around us in this time, and it draws a perfect line to the sun at midday. Or so..." He shows me a bracelet on his arm that depicts on a circle the position of the moons and sun in the sky.

"Like this, you can see, without looking, what time it is. Or say, when it's cloudy."

"Or when you are locked in a room without seeing the sky," I whisper.