My apologies for the late post! It seems the schedule wasn’t set for this one (for some reason), so it never sent this morning. Here it is, with the original note intact below.
Come to think of it, the previous version of TSC had a lot less in the way of drama. There was courtly intrigue, sure, but it read a whole lot more like “Jane Austen, but make it Greek” than what we have today. Good? Bad? Well, let me know how you feel about it in the comments section!
This comes right at the heels of the “Sander Goods” chapter.
Areta was charming. She was shockingly likeable, or at least more likeable than Ba’an had expected, though Ba’an, by dint of being Ba’an, was careful to cling to her vigilance. She told her the same story she had told Nikias, careful to make sure the details lined up exactly, in case they compared notes later.
Areta would make a fine wife. Of this, Ba’an was certain. She was well-versed in the art of polite, yet witty, conversation, to the point that she adjusted very subtly to meet Ba’an’s level of proficiency in Dolkoi’ri. She did not miss much. If she had been K’Avaari she would have made a good witch.
Ba’an had a feeling Areta had, in fact, taken after Gaios.
How high could she push Lukios, if they wed? She could open doors for him Ba’an couldn’t even see. The gap between them couldn’t be more obvious.
The longer Ba’an spoke with Areta, the harder it was to breathe—which was silly. Ba’an had already known they were ill-matched. Had planned for it. It had been her own fault for allowing Lukios’ astounding naivete to seep into her own good sense.
Ba’an would return to the desert soon, and that would be that.
“Hm, so you enjoy gardening? In that case…Sorkos! Have we any plants in the garden that could grow in a desert clime? Something beautiful, but hardy.”
“Oh—I did not mean—you do not have to gift me a plant.” Areta waved her protests away.
“Nonsense. My mother would have been delighted to meet you, had she been here. I already know what she would say: ‘Beautiful things are meant to be shared.’ It is our pleasure to share such things with you.” She smiled artfully.
“I…” Now it would sound rude if she refused. Of this, Ba’an was certain. “Thank you, though…you need not trouble yourself to find such a plant.”
“It is no trouble at all. It is a shame only a few plants are hardy enough to survive the desert. Only the scrappiest ones survive, it seems.” Ba’an kept the frown from forming on her face. Areta’s words seemed to always have some hidden meaning. She was not quite sure if she was referring to the plant or to Ba’an.
They chatted lightly, servants following them around like shadows. It was incredibly distracting. Eventually, Areta excused herself to prepare for dinner. Ba’an also returned to her room, exhausted from her own efforts. She was beginning to think she should have stayed at the inn she normally did. It would have been…easier, though she would not have seen Lukios as often.
Was it going to be a formal dinner tonight then? Ba’an had not seen Aika after their trip. Undoubtedly, she was busy with two extra guests now. It would have been nice to ask her what was expected for dinner, however. She sighed.
Well, she would dress nicely. It was not as though she had the clothes and jewelry to be ostentatious. Even Areta’s travel-wear had outshone whatever Ba’an had in her wardrobe. Hopefully, it would be enough.
It was clear Gaios had already warned Lukios and Nikias of extra visitors. Lukios entered the building with his charming smile at the ready. Nikias did not behave any differently, though that was expected. He was already well-mannered; Ba’an did not think he could be any more polite than he already was.
Ba’an wasn’t sure who had made the seating arrangements, though she had a fair guess. Gaios had been at the barracks all day, and the servants generally did what they were told. So really, it left only Areta and Leander, and Leander clearly did not care where he sat.
Gaios sat at the head of the table, as usual. Lukios sat between him and Areta. Ba’an was now seated at the end of the table beside Nikias.
She could not help wondering if there was a subtle message in Dolkoi’ri here. Seating was important to K’Avaari; K’Avaari often sat in a circle during meetings where all were equals, but in meetings where rank mattered, placing someone at the very end often meant they were lowest in rank. Were Dolkoi’ri the same? Or was Ba’an still thinking like a witch?
It did not help that Lukios was…unhappy. He was smiling and talking like usual, and there was nothing in his manner to indicate any discomfort, but Ba’an simply knew. She could feel his discontent.
Ba’an’s own discontent rose every time Areta touched Lukios as she spoke.
Ba’an’s suspicions had been right. Areta was more than a little fond of Lukios. She could see it every time the woman turned her eyes on him. They sparkled. Her artful smile became less artful, less like a sculpture, and much more like a young girl in love, because…
Well, she was obviously a young girl in love.
Gaios was watching them all like a hawk.
Lukios did not react whenever Areta touched him. He only smiled and conversed with her in a friendly, if distant, way, though she noted he was much more…polite than usual. He didn’t swear, for one thing, and he didn’t tell any jokes. None. He never touched her unless it was an accidental brush of their elbows.
It was all painfully one-sided, and everyone obviously knew it.
Ba’an did not think Gaios had wanted Lukios to marry Areta strictly because he had been adopted. The man was a father, after all.
Judging by Leander’s amused expression, this situation had been ongoing for some time now. Ba’an was not sure why he found this amusing. Ba’an found it painful and awkward. She was reminded of all the young men and women who had come to the shi-vuti in desperation when their object of adoration had spurned them. It was never pleasant to witness, though now that she was older, she could feel pangs of sympathy where before she had only felt a mild irritation.
Ba’an had Lukios now. But she knew she would not keep him. Perhaps they would share their agonies later, though Ba’an doubted they would ever meet again.
They made a very fine pair, visually. They were both beautiful people. The sight of them together made her chest tight, though Ba’an pushed the feeling away with the efficient ruthlessness of a witch.
She deliberately turned her attention away from the pair to listen to the conversations flowing around her. It wasn’t anything too interesting, at least to Ba’an; the information seemed to be about who was doing what and when, and with whom. Society news. Ba’an did not know enough about Dolkoi’ri society to understand any of it, and she recognized none of the names. She was well and truly out of her element now, with dinner companions who were not concerned with including her.
The food came. Once the dishes were set down, Ba’an…
Stared.
What was this?
There were whole birds arranged in a complicated pattern at the center of the table. They were obviously dead and cooked, though the feathers were somehow intact. They were somehow assembled so that some looked as though they were sitting or standing, while others looked as though they were flying. Was this food, or was it some kind of perverse sculpture made of food?
There was a kind of soup as well, though the colour was green and it seemed cold.
Surely it was a kind of soup. Or was it a sauce? What was this?
The bread, at least, was recognizable.
If it was bread. Ba’an half suspected it was something else carefully made to simply look like bread.
Lukios looked at the display, then looked at her. She saw a faint crease appear on his forehead, though he did not frown. He was too far away to be of any help. Ba’an smiled at him peacefully. There was no need to worry. If Ba’an could not figure out how to eat something, she would simply not eat it. At worst she would return to her room hungry, but she had jars of honey stuffed into her bags. Honey was food. She could eat that alone, if she could not sneak food from the kitchen.
For an instant, Gaios looked at the spread as though he was about to sigh, but the moment passed and his expression returned to being genial.
Ah. So this was excessive. Ba’an had thought so. The only question was, was this meant to impress or shame?
Very casually, Nikias said, “How was your day, lady Ba’an?”
Hm. Small talk from Nikias? Unlikely. Clearly, he was up to something.
“It went well. I found something very nice at the market.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. There was a trader with desert goods.”
“Now that is a nice surprise. May I inquire as to your find?”
She wasn’t about to tell him of all people that it was a distillation kit. “A rather interesting sculpture. It is in three pieces, though I have been told it can be reassembled.”
“How lucky. I believe there is a K’Avaari saying which goes,” he transitioned naturally into K’Avaari, “Don’t eat the meat, just the tongues. Use the small fork to your left. The smallest one. The sauce is for the tongue. Everyone will go around once, then again.”
Ah ha.
Lukios valiantly refrained from choking on his wine.
“Hm,” replied Ba’an, “That is true. We do say that.”
Yes, Niki did come to the rescue in the previous version as well. He’s such a gentleman, ha.
Next time: A balcony dinner scene, and a softer Niki.