Nadian tipped his head, listening, toward General d’Molfe who sipped his raki, before genteelly stirring it with a honey-stick before continuing. “One can see why the young Emir-al was seduced into his folly,” the General said. “Such a luscious young woman, Basserus.” d’Molfe winked and raised an eyebrow over the elaborate embroidered and feathered veil he affected. As if you would ever care about woman’s flesh, you old dev. The best place for your sort is hung in cages with no bottoms. “It is so unfortunate that the young are so impetuous. She had it all, and must have hoped to fool the old man into thinking the little larva was his.”
“Indeed.” If the ‘little larva’ as you call it, is indeed the Emir-al’s. Rumours have been flying about the court for days. Some say the child is Raghnall’s, sent so suddenly away. Some say it is a child of a wax-tender or a Basin sweeper, or a Hive-keeper. Or the old man himself and he is lying to protect her.
“Either way, there will be people who think the child is truly the next Royal Cell, the Golden Chick. And if –” better not to say ‘when’ though everyone knows our Immutable is anything but. I wait every morning to hear the horns that shake the stones announcing his death. “If our Immutable passes on, there would be those who would put her upon a Regent’s Saddle.”
“You think so, Basserus? Apparently your brother does as well.” The old general’s smile under the veil was an unpleasant one, as Nadian’s head snapped around just in time to see Billiph smile and step across the invisible line around Mariush. He held a wine-glass of honey tea in his hand and offered it to her, gallantly looking away as her hand emerged from the sheltering veil through the side slit.
His gaze automatically tracked to see if he could spot Diryish’s reaction but the Emperor had his back turned to the little interplay. “Dangerous. The Emperor is very possessive of his toys, even the dirty or broken ones.”
“Of course… hmmm. Perhaps I will have a word with my old friend. Excuse me, Basserus.” General d’Molfe sauntered over toward the drone hangers on. Nadian smiled thinly under his veil as the old fool made certain he was less liked by his Radiance by pointing out Billiph’s little ploy. I’ll certainly cultivate the girl, but never, ever in the court, nor under the old man’s eyes. Perhaps she needs a friendly ear to pour out her troubles to, even if through a carved screen to keep her isolation. I can be a very sympathetic ear.
**
His balcony doors now closed tight against the pounding rain, Nadian pored over his notes. Tonight there was no decaying corpse upon the work table, merely paper covered in close-crabbed scribble, a pen and his capped silver inkpot.
I don’t want the girl to fall in love with me. I just want her malleable, welcoming to my attentions. He flipped over another sheet, running his finger down. This one was broken, the middle decayed, but it looked promising. “… ander to ensure the ….something… of those... close… A large chunk missing here but then “…of the person in question and place it upon a quartz table.” Likely a hair… he thought. And hold the image of this emotion, this affinity, firmly in one’s mind, create a protection from the …. Something… out of the stone… no more than …. And encase the hair in it.”
A hair would be all but impossible to acquire but certainly threads from her clothing, or an image would do. That seemed good. Tomorrow night would be soon enough, before he attempted it… and tried a minor spell to find out for sure if the egg she incubated was the Emperor’s blood. He shuffled his papers together with the affinity mandery on top, weighted the stack down with his natural glass sheet and picked up his lamp.
No one would be doing much travelling now that the rains had come, when the columns full of beeswax gave up their stored warmth, the poor huddled against the public ones, the great loggias pumping the liquid wax through the stone. He had time. Maybe the old man would do him the favour of dying tonight, though he didn’t hold out much hope of that.
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