The Cat Who Knew How to Cry

3. GUARDIAN OF THE CAT'S ESSENCE (part 3)

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Upon reaching her chambers, Alu passed through the reception and knocked on a small door that led into the room of her only servant. She had to wait almost a full minute before the door flung open, giving the sianae full view of the living room, brimming with variegated silks, ornamented tiles and mosaics. Shada, the owner of this luxurious apartment, matched the furnishings perfectly with her bright clothes, big smile and bubbly personality. Looking not a day over thirty years of age, this vibrant human woman had celebrated her one hundred-and-thirtieth birthday more than two years prior. The maid embraced her mistress with limber chocolate-covered hands and planted two big smooches on both cheeks. Aniallu felt her spine, chilled after her encounter with Meori, gradually thaw.

"Oh! I'm so glad you're back! You won't believe what's been happening here!" Shada was already chattering with gusto.

"Yeah? Well, what's going on?" Alu inquired absently to her own misfortune. Not two minutes had gone by, during which a torrent of news had been unleashed upon her, that she was kicking herself for asking.

"Shada! Have mercy on my ears!" she pleaded eventually. "You're a wonderful spy, only I must be too foolish and frivolous a cat to put such priceless information to use."

"Your sarcasm is lost on me," muttered suddenly serious Shada, her bracelets rattling with displeasure. "How do you intend on starting a new life in Briaellar if you don't want to know what's happening here?"

Alu sighed. Unlike her, Shada was always abreast of all the latest development in "Catville" – from exhibitions and lectures to all the various plots and secret dealings. Her business acumen, her ability to wring out information from just about anyone, and to profit from it subsequently, would put any Envirzian merchant to shame. In fact, it was precisely this talent of hers, and not at all her knack for finding matching socks for Aniallu, that had propelled Shada into the top one hundred richest non-Alae of Briaellar.

That's not to say that her close relationship with the sianae didn't afford her with any tangible benefits: the maid had become quite masterful at selling "juicy gossip" from her mistress' life to hapless spies who had no idea just how detached she was from Briaellar life. Shada generously shared "the Alasais' Shadow's most sacred of secrets" with numerous informants (with the Shadow's knowledge and approval, to be sure), and deposited the proceeds diligently into an old heavy coffer, resting on a table in the middle of the room she and Aniallu were currently heading into. Next to the coffer was a sheet of paper onto which Shada studiously recorded every piece of information exchanged, the buyer and the price of transaction. Thus she obtained far more valuable information than what she sold. The human woman approached this work with the pedantry of an old voracious dragon who had just roasted a crew of thieves in her lair and was now counting all her riches for fear that the prey had nonetheless managed to sneak out a coin or two.

"You're right, Shada," said Alu. "And if ever I decide to immerse myself in the local life, I will no doubt consult with you on every matter. That's a promise! But that's not where my head is at right now."

"As your Cat Highness wishes," Shada rapped out resentfully.

Aniallu gave her a conciliatory hug, then added with a sly smile:

"You know, I keep thinking to myself, when are you going to desert me and run away to Anlimor or something? You can start your own business, buy yourself land and a title, and leave the local princelings in the dust? Eh?"

Shada arched her brows pointedly and looked at Alu as though she were mentally ill, then uttered with total seriousness:

"Nothing trumps the opportunity to wear your dresses."