Figurehead

forty-seven

I stop short in the doorway as he pushes the door open. "Where did that come from?" The bed there now is big enough for two people, at least. The pallet he was using is nowhere to be seen, and my stuff is no longer a pile on the ground, it is similarly out of sight. He doesn't answer at first, leaving my side to kneel by the firepit and ignite the flames.

"It was supposed to be Lac's," he says finally when he looks at me, the firelight and shadows streaking across his face. "It was in one of his spare rooms. Before he was injured, he'd had one made. He'd planned to be bound."

I remember; the first message I'd given Dein was from Lac's former tied. "I'm sorry," I sigh heavily.

He shrugs, standing and coming over to hug me. "What's done is done," he sighs. He pauses. "At least it will be used now." My cheeks burn. He pulls back slightly. "But I need to ink you as my queen first." He pauses. "And you're injured," he adds softly, touching my side.

I wonder if he can feel the quiet thunder of my heart. "Where is the ink supposed to be?" I stutter. From the base of my neck and curling over my right shoulder is the ink marking me as trusted messenger. He was there when I received it. He moves his hand from my side to the back of my neck, tracing his fingers down the curve of my back.

"Along here." I shiver involuntarily.

"Can I see the design?" I ask, trying to keep my breathing even.

He nods. "And we have to record the marks of our binding," he adds. We go into the office, leaving the staff on top of the chest of drawers in the bedroom, and again he lights the fire. I sit at his desk and smooth an empty piece of parchment out. He comes and sits next to me, taking a nib and dipping it into the inkpot.

Occasion: binding
Names: Dein, Janf
Firstkin:
• Dein
    ◦ Parents: Jur, Shav
    ◦ Siblings: Lac, Rist
• Janf

He sets his hand down, and I pick up a nib and dip it into the ink before adding my writing to his. They differ visibly in style, but I like the way they look together.

    ◦ Parents: Seum, Miul
    ◦ Siblings: Sret

He resumes writing.

Inking: Dein

Next to it, on the other side of the page, beneath the information about me, he writes

Inking: Janf

He pauses. "Under these, we draw the ensigns. Do you want to draw mine first?"

I shrug. "Alright." He sets the nib down and I pick his right hand up with my left, lacing our fingers together. "I hope you like it."

He laughs. "How could I not?" I smile and try and draw the same swirling lines of ink as carefully as I can. When I'm done, I release his hand and he copies the ensign he marked on mine. Once the ink dries, he rolls the parchment up carefully, sealing it with the Escatin seal; an engraved silver ring tucked into a pocket in his desk.

"That will go to the Archive," I say, even though there's no doubt he knows it. He nods anyway.

He takes a deep breath and flicks through a pile of used parchments before pulling one out, smoothing it down. "I drew it at night while you were asleep under krufid. I wasn't sure how long I'd have to wait." He pauses. "Or if I'd lose you."

I take his hand and squeeze it. He squeezes back. "Thanks to the Lord, I'm here now." He nods, a smile returning to his lips.

"I hope you like it."