70 The South Garden (1/2)
Zorion breathed heavily in his sleep, his breath tickling at Usoa's ear as she jostled the boy back on her her shoulder. After hours of rich food and entertainment, Zorion and Izar had fallen asleep, snuggled among their siblings. Ochoa had carried the heavier Izar back for her mother while Usoa gathered her sleeping brother. Dosar had fretted, pointing out the many servants that could help and the twins had been aghast, their mother would never.
Embarrassed, the mousy woman had let Ochoa carry the girl back to bed as Usoa dismissed herself with her own charge. Alone she had made her way back to the Garden, slipping into cool darkness of the familiar space she had grown up in.
She slowed on her walk, taking in the fountains and walkways lined with bright, sturdy plants. She passed closed halls, ready to be swept out for children that grew past their nurseries, just like her, but hadn't been married yet. Will Naia move into my little rooms, she thought as she reached the hall where her mother and younger siblings still stayed. Mixtel would be put out of the Garden soon, he was too old and would be sent to train in his powers, as Ochoa had been.
She frowned, turning down the hall that she had lived in until her brother had been removed and she had been granted her rooms. A nanny waited at the nursery to receive the boy and watch over him while he slept but Usoa put him to bed herself, laying him upon the pillows and covering him with the sheet after removing his clothes.
Maybe I'll visit with him tonight, she mused before brushing the idea away. No, I should check on the darktellers. Something is off with them, she thought, chewing her lip.
Her brother to bed, she left the nursery and followed the dark halls to her own rooms. The cat, a ball of fluff, greeted her with purrs and the brush of her sleek body against her legs.
”Hello there, Little,” Usoa chirped, knowing that the animal heard none of it as she bent, lifting her into her arms. She scratched the cat's head, between its ears. ”I'll have to find a new home for you,” she said sadly. ”Maybe if Naia moves in she can take care of you,” she hummed. It was too early for the girl to have her own space, really, but then, it was too early for Esti to marry as well and yet, all their lives were changing to suit that reality. ”It's not such a sacrifice for that girl to come here,” she mused the purring the animal.
”I can put the idea into her head,” she mused darkly as she pushed aside her curtains and entered her rooms. A servant had been around, leaving light and fresh drinking water for her along with some fruits.
She put the cat down and picked up a piece of fruit, peeling off the hard rind as she watched the cat clean herself. She ate slowly, the sticky juice running over her fingers but acting as the perfect end for a night of heavy food. She drank the water and sighing, began to undress.
She started with her hair and paused, her hand on the strange comb. With a gentle tug, it came free from her hair and she turned it in the light of the lamp, inspecting it closer.
The jewels were deep, blood red, each one shaped like a teardrop and their faceted depths made endless mirrors and pools that drew her in until she forced herself to come back, to take the piece in as a whole. Their were seven of them, formed into a pattern that made a flower but with the rounded ends connecting to a center and the points spanning outwards. Each had been individually set inside the gold, the metal warm and heavy in her hand. The detail, seamless as if stone and metal were one, the faceted surface seemed as if it were simply grown that way, mined from the earth in perfect, light refracting patterns.
This is from the Earth realm, she realized. It had not been crated by hands but with magic. The gift of such a fine thing was rare, the realm did little trade with any other, the people had no need for most of what the world offered. ”A fortune,” she hummed to herself running her fingers over the gems before she paused. ”Then this is from the prince.”
She frowned as she remembered Guifre's eyes, focused and burning on her, the gaze somehow heavier than the touch of Lloren's shadows. The warmth of the metal took on a new, sick feeling, to heavy in her hand.
She rushed into the bedroom and shoved the comb into her trunk, burying it under clothing that had already been packed for her journey. She couldn't leave it, it was a gift too fine, but she couldn't bear to touch it either.
She shuddered as she closed the lid. He must have ordered Lloren to give me that, the rumors are correct, she frowned. But why? Esti is close in age to Guifre, one dreamweaver is as good as any other, there's no reason for this, she bit her lip.
She turned, yawning, to her bed as she reached for the shoulder of the borrowed gown and stopped. There, atop her pillow, sat a scrap of paper, folded in half.
She reached for it, sliding it open. In trembling but familiar letters, it read, large south garden, third night sound.
She crumpled the paper up, a flash of anger shooting through her. Of course he would call me tonight, of course he would expect me to come to him after what he did!
She growled and turned, forgetting her own sleepiness and stalked out of her bedroom.
She moved swiftly through the dark halls, third sound had happened a little over an hour ago, while she was still at the feast with most of the palace. Of course Ferran had not been invited and would likely not have come anyway as he would be recovering from his punishment.
Although she was sure that hidden guards waited down the halls, she took the main paths, the most direct course to where she went. There was no longer any reason to be secretive, Ferran had, without her permission, exposed their relationship and if she chose to meet with him late at night, well, it was nothing for any part of the Emperor's court to be concerned with.