434 - The Society Pages Report

IMPERIAL COUPLE ATTEND SOIREE

Our intrepid reporter, braving the dangers of a knife-wielding Hyerne chef at the Diamond on the Earthsphere soiree last evening, was on hand to witness the Imperial entrance.

Once Shefenkas had graciously allowed all in earshot to rise, and given his usual blanket permission for the gehit to be taken as given from then on, decended the staircase with the Imperatrix gracing his arm.

He wore the Imperial white and gold, the smoothly fitted, tight sleeved satin shirt over skin-tight white trousers and gilded leather soft boots, showing that He had just come from the Highest Office.  His only concession to the casual nature of His visit was the top two gold buttons at His neck undone, letting the smallest few strands of chest hair exposed.  His creamy coloured scarf-snake coiled loosely about His neck, raising her head now and again to rest upon one ear or the other. Or coiled up into the feather headpiece.

Otherwise, He sported the elegantly disheveled curls with gold-hued Imperial Coronet Bird feathers cascading down over one shoulder, an interesting meld of the Yeoli ideal of not wearing metal, the Niah ideal of wearing feathers and the Arkan ideal of seeing as much gold upon the Son of the Sun as possible.

The Imperatrix sported a gown that even the most conservative could not fault, even as it flouted convention with every move. The inner gown was apparently gold gauze while the outer gown, a form-hugging cascade of flowing gold ribbons, and feathers that moved and gaped tantalizingly, never exposing more than a glimpse of the gauze beneath, even when her elegant sleeves moved with the force of her motion. Her fan was a fantasy of blue, green and red Niah bird feathers, picked out in gold, with blue, green and red ribbons.  Her sleeve pet was a tiny golden kitten.

Matching her husband’s headpiece, she wore a similar cascade of gold feathers, though smaller, lighter and softly fluttering rather than the stiff, impressive flight feathers adorning her Husband’s head.

The Imperial couple… as their wont… held hands.

When asked if their appearance at the Liren manor for the campaign party of Aan/Itrean, at this most political of gatherings, might open Him to accusations of interfering in the campaign process, He answered, 'I was promised this fete would be very pleasurable and it is for that reason I am attending.'

Kallijas Itrean, Aitzas, alesinas Imperium, who, once he had done his duty by greeting the Imperial couple, was dashing in his red and silver presentation robe, his familial crest of cranes in flight woven into a subtle silver on silver pattern glittering across it.  He yielded his position as alesinas, upon the Imperator’s other arm, to Skorsas Trinisas, Aitzas, alesinas Imperium, who wore a sumptuous beribboned tunic that  complemented the white and gold perfectly, his kilt was flowing silk and an elegant stiffened panel slashed with gold.  A simple gold filigree adorned his head, holding his magnificent mane in place and his presentation comb was gold-shot crystal.

_____________________________

Animal Disaster Closes Candidate's Party

The political fete at the Flying Horse Manor was in full swing and apparently very popular when an unfortunate occurrence forced the closure of the gathering.

A person or persons unknown apparently released a number of Ser Kazien’s livestock into the main manor house, where their presence sent party goers fleeing for the high ground of staircases, furniture and decorative wall mouldings.

Though not dangerous, the horses were apparently confused and disoriented by their unusual surroundings and sought out their master for apparent reassurance. Unfortunately eight large stallions seeking reassurance forced Ser Kazien to the safety of his mantel-piece, well over the entreating noses of his creatures.

In the course of the stampede, various pieces of furniture were destroyed and the floors fouled by the distressed horses.

Kazien called for his household servant’s assistance, which was unfortunately slow in coming, the okas and fessas of below stairs incapacitated by their nervousness to approach the loose stallions.

At this point the first party goers expressed their intention to helpfully vacate the premises.  Whereupon the entire party chose to be exactly so helpful, en masse.

The Society Pages expresses their hope that parties given by the Kazien household though entertaining, be somewhat less so in the future. The Sereniteers continue their investigation.

_____________________________

I had to keep a straight face when I heard about the prank someone pulled on Kazien, though I couldn’t imagine how they did it.  Was there an ancient old passageway from stables to manor house?  Kallijas had a coughing fit and I managed to keep my lips from curling up at all when I expressed my concern at the dastardly person who would so distress so many of the Fifty.

One writer, of course, had the nerve to ask me if I had anything to do with it and I was able to graciously deny everything.  Chevenga had a twinkle in his eye but was suitably solemn in expressing his hope that no one was hurt.

All in all, I surveyed the garden and had the feeling it was a resounding success.  Please Father of the Gods, Sun’s Light, let this help me get votes. Let people see me and talk to me themselves.  Let me be the boy who will be a good Imperator. Twenty-eight days until I know my fate. Twenty-eight days till the election.

433 - He Whose Beef is Always Perfectly Aged

“Ser Monnen.” He was looking at Kyriala as if he already had her undressed and in bed.  How dare he? I reached for my belt and brought my comb up, even as he did, the tail ends crossing a little too vigorously.  Don’t ‘fence’ with your comb, my etiquette master always said. Simply present. Your rank carries itself.  “Were you presented at my father’s court?”  He could have been, since he was a few years older than I.  A grown man.  Past third threshold.   He was smiling as though he’d prefer to bite me.  

He had the 'look' that 2nd Amitzas sometimes got, as if he'd love to force her to something.  A controller. An abuser. I disliked him on sight.

“No, Serin,” he said.  “My father was, but deemed it too… much, to expose me to.”

There was so much in that tiny pause.  “Of course.  I am pleased to meet you.”  Kyriala casually shifted as she combed, moving just fractionally closer to me. I turned back to find her looking between us, across the main pool where the bulk of the bathers, the Arkan ones, were  paddling in the shallows or on the steps.  The only people actually swimming in the deep water were foreigners.  “It seems that bathing will be somewhat the rage this season.  Serina Liren, your reputation for spectacular salons is assured.”

She smiled at me.  “This is hardly all my doing, Serin.”

“She has excellent servants,”  Monnen observed. Bastard.

“Of course,” I was about to continue when Monnen took my pause as an invitation to break in.

“Serina, shall I fetch you something to eat?  Or a glass of wine perhaps?”  Who was he to dance attendance on Kyriala?  Stop that. I told myself. He’s a friend of hers.  He’s a voter. He’s someone I do not know. This is an unreasoning hatred, except for the looks he bestows on her.

“Thank you, Ser Benthasas.”  She knows him well enough to make free with his first name?  Stop that. Don’t be an idiot.  “That would be lovely.”

He nodded and got up, with a slight hitch in his motion that hinted at a limp as he strolled over to the serving tables.  Injured, fighting for Arko.  More than you’ve done, boy.  I wrenched my eyes and my mind off him and who he was to her. My gaze fell on Serina Anala Puriren, the elder daughter, just coming out of the water.  She might be covered from neck to foot, from shoulder to wrist, but the water, pouring off her shift, laid every single inch of it tightly and almost transparently, against her body.

It was enough to enrapture my attention and the attention of very young man in the vicinity.  And many of the young Serinas as well.  She giggled and pulled the damp fabric away from her skin, accepting a towel from a servant, hiding everything from view under another, dry, layer of cotton. I totally forgot about Benthasas Monnen for an instant.

“Ah-hem!”  Kyriala tapped my arm with her comb and I jumped, startled.  She was giving me the ‘all boys are idiots’ look and I realized I had been staring.

“My apologies, Serina.”  I realized at that moment that the shift she wore was also soaking wet and under the edge of the towel she had wrapped around her, it outlined her leg just as fetchingly.  “This is surely going to be a shocking scandal.”

“Hardly.  Everyone is decently covered.” But she smiled at me.  Covered yes. Decently, no. And here came Monnen back with a glass and a plate full of dainties for Kyriala.  I felt like my head was being wiped back and forth between two completely opposite vistas.

“I should…”  Bilabas appeared  at my elbow, fortunately before I could say something truly foolish.

“Serin.  There are a number of guests arriving right now that need the exalted’s personal greeting.  Not the Imperator, yet but still influential.  Serina, your chaperone should be here in a moment to assist you, the Master of the House is asleep and so cannot receive.”

“Of course,” she said, getting up and turning to the woman who was all but running into the Bathhouse.

“Thank you, Bilabas.  Serina Liren, Ser Monnen… Serins, Serinas… I nodded around the circle of other young people… most of whom I had been introduced to already and had not spoken up while Ky and I and that other man, talked.  I rose, trying to be graceful.  “Please do excuse me.”

“Of course, Serin.” That was Monnen again.  “You may be excused.”  A flash of rage shook me though I didn’t show it.  He was not my superior to pat me on the head and send me off.  I smiled at him instead, and turned to follow Bilabas.

“Serin,” the butler said quietly.  “It looks as though this is the entire Kazien party.  It seems the exalted has shut things down."

“Truly?  I wonder why?  Did he realize it was making him look petty to hold a party the same night as Kallijas and me?”

“These ones don’t know, Serin.”

I took up my post at the bottom of the stairs and Atzana grinned as she curtsied and let me take the spot.  Kallijas came up just as she did so.  Nuninibas was already asleep sitting with his head cradled on his mama’s lap on the dais, a crème cake firmly clutched in his hand… Kyriala was still… ah… here she came.  Her women must have been right there to help her change out of the wet shift.  Even her hair roses were back in place and she looked serene as if she had not just been splashing about in the baths a tenth ago.

She took up Nuni’s place and the parade of the other half of the Fifty began.  So… everyone would be here tonight.

**
In a closed carriage between the Flying Horse Manor and the Diamond on the Earthsphere...

“My goodness, husband did you ever see such a sight?  My slippers are absolutely, absolutely ruined.”

“I shall buy you a replacement pair never fear, my wife… In fact I shall buy you several.”

“How on the earthsphere did they get into the house to begin with?”

“I have no idea, pet.  It was worth it to see Kazien clinging to his own chimney breast with his horses stretching their noses up to him.  They are very affectionate creatures.”

“Affectionate!  One brute absolutely ate the flowers off my head piece!”

“I’ll buy you another one my dear.  Interesting that there were four matched pairs.  I’ve seen his carriage drawn by only two.  Perhaps the others are new?”

“Did you see the one that absolutely destroyed the dining table?  It was jumping on it!  What WAS it doing, dear?”

“Ahem.  Nothing pet.  The stallion was merely—playing with it.”

“Oh.  Well the legs gave out entirely and the place settings were smashed or crushed.  He positively seized the centerpiece in his teeth!  Very wildly, I thought.”

“Here we are, my wife.  The Diamond.  It looks as though we haven’t missed anything.  I have heard rumours that the Imperator will actually deign to attend sometime tonight.”

“Ooooh and me with my slippers ruined!”

“Never fear, wife, perhaps the Sera or the Serina will be able to come to your rescue, even if they do not have slippers perfectly dyed to match your gown.”

“I hope so.”

“I wonder if Aan actually had the stones—“ “DEAR! Language!  The children!”  “—ahem, the fortitude, to hire someone to ruin Kazien’s party for him?”

“Surely not, husband.”

“He did once set the entire horse market loose upon the city.”

“Well… I suppose.”

**

“OH MY FIKKEN PROFESSIONAL GOD!  Who scorched my chocolate!  I need it right NOW!!!”

“There’s no time… the channeloni are done and stuffed…. Here, sift coloured sugar over them and send them out.”

“We have a situation!”  The bellow came from the Chef’s station.  “The whole Kazien party is about to arrive!”

“Oh, shen!”

“Fik the ‘oh shen’, go down into the cellar and bring up the next round of stove fuels.”

“Kafiras!  Send a skater down to the Gourmand and get the second round of barrels brought up!”

“Yes, Ienas.  They are already here.  Your oldest just brought them not a bead ago. We thought we might need them.”

“Good man!  Good men!”

“What do you mean the veal is dry?  I cooked it perfectly well!  It’s the best veal in the city, I know!”

“How do you know?”

“I bought it from you and that ‘s what you said!”  The sound of another bite being taken.  “I could be wrong about the veal being dry.”

“More fish coming through! Fresh fish coming through to prep!”

“Chef!  Please taste!”

“It’s not good enough… throw it out.”

“Yes, Chef!”

“Second dish pit crew reporting!”

“Quit reporting and get your asses in there… we’ve got at least another two hundred people coming!”

“Ground nut oil!  Ground nut oil you moron!”

“Hot… coming behind you… hot hot hot behind!”

“You bet your behind is hot, sweetheart!”

“And don’t you wish you were tupping it right now?”

“Better than… no no no no no!  Do NOT put the white sauce in with the black roe!  You’ll get gray sludge!  You plate it like so… in the spoons so that everyone can take and sip without having to dip into anything!”

“Fresh bake coming in!”

“I wish I were as fresh as it.”

“Yeah.  I could use a beer around now.”

“Take heart, sweetheart, you get through this and the chef buys a round for the kitchen.”

“Really?  Lovely.  Who’re you voting for?”

“Not telling!  But it’s either dumb, dumber or dumbest and then there’s this paladin guy and a kid who He Whose Beef is Always Perfectly Aged thinks can do it.  What do you think?”

432 - In the Kitchen

“You there… Kafiris?  Lovely.  Would that one see that Porellepa gets more alcohol for her flat-top?  Not surprising, she is very popular.”  Skorsas called as he stepped into the main kitchen at the Liren Manor.

It was about half the size as the main Marble Palace kitchen, which was good since it was full of diligently toiling bodies.

“Certainly, sar.”  He finished tapping the wine cask just set up to replace an empty one, and waved the skaterwaiters over to pick up trays of clean glasses just set up by one of the dishwashers.

“Has anyone seen the juggler?”  The bellow came from across the kitchen.  “His break is OVER!”

“Where do you think?  Like half the party he’s watching Porellepa!  He says he wants to learn her technique!”

“Yeah, right.  Which one?” – “Don’t speculate in HER hearing or she’ll need to sharpen her knives again when she’s done cutting you up!”

If heated bodies could produce steam there would have been a thin fog of it hovering near the ceiling.  The bulk of the hot foods, things that simply must be cooked, were being done mostly outside, at stations around the garden.  In here, there was the one line simply preparing the tiny salads on rice paper, rolled up and popped into the mouth so no one’s gloves got messy.  One line slicing and preparing the fresh fish expressed up from Fispur on ice.  Everything that might be made cold and all of it either wrapped or skewered to avoid besmirching some fine Aitzan gloves.

“Hey, Erl!”

“What?”

“Ever thought you’d be working for Sparky again?”

“Nope!  Never thought I’d be likin’ it neither!  Take this box of dirty glasses back to the dish pit.  No time to talk.”

“The Imperator’s comin’ later I heard.”

“Yes and there’s a whole line set up over there that kicks in when He does!  Antras and Skorsas and a dozen others set it all up earlier.  See it’s all sealed up?  And his taster ‘ll show up a bead before he does!”

“Smart thinkin’.”

“Less talk, sers, please,” Skorsas said, on the way by with a list in one of this gloves and an assistant trailing him.  “Less talk and more motion!”

“KAFIRIS!  Ienas says get another sealed cask of Tatzian out to the Baths…right NOW!”

“What? Why? I just did…”

“Some idiot emptied it into the little fountain out there before Ienas could stop him and there’s a bunch of other idiots playing ‘I’m drowning, don’t save me, in it!”

“Aw shen… it was a ’74… too.”

“Grotto grill is out of sliced onions!”

“On it. Here take a pan of flat-breads too.”

“Fireworks have been moved back a tenth… says the Thunder Master…”

“Who in Hayel moved my melted chocolate off that burner!!!!!?”

“Hot, behind you… behind you… hot comin’ through.”

“Boiled eggs off the burner… hey, sandwich bitch! Peel these now!”

“Not good enough! Re-wash this set of glasses… I’m not serving a pig in those greasy glasses…”

**

Kafiris wheeled another wine cask out of the service corridor behind the kitchen, the organized noise cutting of behind him as the door sighed shut.  The service corridor snaked around the ballroom and out to a door concealed behind a carefully pruned stand of hibiscus bushes.

The path had been found under the sod when the baths had been fixed and now he merely trundled the wheeled caddy along between the screening bushes till he was at the old/new Bath’s service door.  “He’s putting on a good show, then, isn’t he.” The voice was smooth, the tone poisonous.  One of the Yeoli Hawks, Inatallas Shaeas-Krias.

Kafiris stopped in the act of reaching to open the door, standing completely still.  “I think I have the perfect springald bolt with which to shoot down this young Phoenix,” another voice answered.  Female.  Another of the Hawks.

“Really?  Why don’t you tell me all about it?”  They walked away from the hedge and their voices faded. Kafiris peeked through the leaves to see it was indeed two of the Yeoli Hawks, who would make themselves higher Aitzas if they could.

“Shen,” Kaf said to himself.  “And couldn’t you two just conveniently talk about that conspiracy in my hearing like this was a bad play?”  He shrugged, tucked it away to report later.  Every one of the candidates had things they were planning on pulling on each other.  As long as it was within the bounds of Serenity then they could do as they liked.

**

The flow of guests died down to a trickle and I could hand off the receiving duties to Atzana.  Let the late comers, who had decided to go to Kazien’s party first deal with having to cross comb with a fan.  My feet hurt and I wanted to sit down.  Preferably near Kyriala.

I accepted a glass of wine from a waiter and dropped a link in his tip glass.  He grinned at me and zoomed away, weaving around groups of strolling guests, tray perfectly balanced on the tips of his fingers as if it were glued there.  I stopped to speak a moment or two to everyone, being pleasant, so it took me some time to make my way all the way round the gardens.

Antras had let me know that he’d inform me when the Imperator’s food taster showed up. That way I had a bead’s warning so I could be there immediately as he came in.

I caught Kall's eye as I skirted the group he was in, and didn't disturb the lively political conversation he had going with Ser Reniren and Serin Utzanien. He flashed a smile at me to let me know I didn't need to save him.

Beyond them, I skirted around the crowd watching the woman drummer in her amazing cage-work of drums.  She was set up on the edge of earshot, just on the other side of the Fragrant Walk.  I came up the walk, politely ignoring whispering lovers in the shadows.  Then I looped back around to come in to the back gates of the Baths.

The bathing pools where full of guests.  It seemed that the idea of a ‘bathing costume’ though scandalous… was popular.  I saw that a number of girls had taken their fancy hair weavings out or had found a way to tie them tightly.  On girl had a hood that was part of her shift, to contain her hair.  Kyriala’s elaborate hairstyle had apparently clipped over smoothly combed hair because it was hooked over the horn of one of the bulls and she was combing out her wet hair.

I went over to sit down beside her, nodding to the people around her moving a bit to give me space on one of the built in seats. “Hello, Serina Liren.  Might I sit a moment?”

“Of course, Serin Aan.  Have you met Ser Monnen?”  She nodded at the young man on her other side from me.  “Serin Minis Aan, meet Ser Benthasas Monnen.”

431 - Appalled and Captive

“Kyriala, Serina Liren, this is beautiful!”  I said as we turned in front of terrace doors and then out onto the terrace itself.  "I recall a few lessons on the language of flowers..." The garden, that had been all but ruined with the boys being dug out of the hill, was transformed from the lawn all the way up the stone steps wide enough to drive a carriage up, from the freshly groomed grass.

There were fireflies in the trees all around twinkling. and Nuninibas and Ili were just launching the final floating candles onto the ponds. JiaKlem was supposedly safe in his tank in Ili’s room.  I’d slipped in to weight down the lid of the tank with a water-filled stone vase, myself.  Cicadas buzzed loud and the trilling tree frogs drowned out a lot of city background noise. “And a Jitzmithra falisas upon a green lawn... barefoot,” I whispered.

I guided us right back inside, after three turns, from one open door to the next.  “My apologies Serina, I was overcome!”

“With absolute silliness!” But she smiled and our course around the floor brought us back before the dais, just as the first guests looked over the ballroom railing, waited to make their entrances.  Twelve more steps, six more steps, three more steps. I spun her out to the end of my arm and made the leg for the dance, as she sank in the curtsy, a ruffle of white and gold roses.

I walked her back to her mother’s side, fingertips trembling slightly on the end of her fan.  Surely she could not feel that. My palm remembers the warm feeling of her waist, cupping it.

Sera Liren smiled serenely and said quietly “You were very naughty, Serin, to dance my daughter outside!”

“I had to take in the magnificence, Sera Liren!”

She sniffed and chose to take the more obvious meaning.  “Oh the garden and baths were all Kyriala’s doing.  You Serin, offered us funds to restore the baths... my late husband’s great grandmother’s legacy. She actually had them built.”

A proper Arkan matriarch ordered statues of bulls and satyrs and men with erect members to fill the pools?  I had no idea....

“Skorsas was gracious enough to assist me with our party,” Kyriala said. Take over, she meant. “And I hired the food people from a favourite place of mine… and yours I believe.  Skorsas was even good enough to pass on names of various musicians to play in various areas of the garden.”

“Do my eyes deceive me?” I smiled at her.  “Are those waiters ready to serve from the Fig? And the waiters on faib skates... from the Figgish Gourmand?”

“Well yes, of course.  I recalled with a great deal of fondness when you introduced me to the Puckered Fig.”  She hid her smile behind her fan.  Her mother just smiled, a little confused.  The bottom of a table during the beginnings of a riot at the Fig.... right...

“Indeed, Serina.  Sera, Serina, excuse me, please I should be at the bottom of the stairs to receive.”  Kall was already there and I went to stand beside him. Nuninibas was there, as master of the house, his silver presentation comb already in his hand.  In this new Arko, even a first threshold boy might stand for his household if he were the eldest male.

Kall and I tried to defer to each other for the second place and I had to remind him that he was grown Aitzas and would be my Regent so he should be there.  He blushed a little, stumbling against his reflexes that insisted he was solas.

Nuni wanted Ky to stand with him, very unusual but much more common now a days.  She would be his hostess and take over for her little brother when he got tired.

I clutched at my belt.  “Ili!” I called.  “I forgot my comb!  It’s beside the bed, could you run and…”

“Get it?  Sure!  One click!”  He went charging up the outside of the stairs, just as people began decending the staircase.

“Here you go!”  He said, panting, as the first guest, announced in a firm, clear voice, by Bilabas, reached Nuninibas and formally touched cheeks, one side, then the other.  Most of the Fortunate Fifty were at least distantly related and pretended intimacy.  My silver comb’s chain clipped onto my belt and I raised it to the right presentation height.  The one end had teeth, the other a long, thin spike where it would be held, or turned to lift a lock of hair into place. In such a formal occasion it was used to welcome guests.

One would offer the long handle to guests and they would responded in kind. Equal to equal, unless they were trying to make up to you, when they would offer the teeth.  Most had combs carved from corals or jades, ambers or ivory.  Kallijas's was silver and copper and electrum, mine plain silver. “Hello, welcome!”  

I noticed that quite a few Aitzas men made a point of formally introducing their unmarried daughters to both Kallijas and me.  If we won, we would be the two most eligible bachelors in the Empire.  The idea made me queasy but I hid that and smiled and touched comb to comb, tilting my head attentively, over and over; touching cheeks to Aitzas from the Fifty.

Kallijas had just excused himself for a moment, asking his secretary to step in to receive for him. In a few moments I would so so myself.  Let all these Aitzas deal with touching comb to fan for a change.  Atzana wouldn’t turn a hair.

“Ser Torii Stenan, how lovely… thank you for coming,” I said.

Stenan, a bullish conservative of the most rigid kind nodded precisely.  “Good to see you here, Serin,” he said.  “You know my aide?”

I’d been aware of the next person in line touching comb to comb with Kall’s secretary, a blur of bright green. I turned to smile at the young man’s big grin and froze. It was, under the smooth, creamy skin and changed, grown-older bone, the unctuous, bared smile, of Ilian Kallen, extending his comb… crassly offering the teeth as if offering to groom me.

“Oh.  I’m not certain.  Ilian Kallen, I believe?”  The green did not suit him.  It was too yellow. And he was probably being offered up to me by his family so that if I remembered him at all fondly from when he was one of my companions, and if Adamas should lose, the family would still have an ‘in’ with the highest power in the land.  Or he was just spying for his uncle and had wrangled as space with Stenan. Or the Kallens were thinking I might feel kindly toward them by them giving me a toy I could break. That was the kind of thinking they cultivated in my father’s court. “I would have thought you’d be working for your esteemed uncle?”  I let me voice trail off questioningly.

He laughed as if I’d made a witticism of some kind, still holding his comb forward, though it should have been me to extend mine. I had not responded yet, making him hold it there. “No, no, I am not in politics at all, Serin!  Not at all.”  And my mother sucks eggs.  Tell me another one, Kallen.  You ARE here to spy for your Uncle.  And Stenan is in his pocket to put you here at my party.

“Indeed.” I said and turned to the next guest, Ser Si Rusa and his daughters, without ever acknowledging Kallen’s extended ivory tool.

I glanced up to where Antras was preparing to give the Liren’s butler a break, and caught his eye. He, like all superior servants, had caught the whole tiny display and nodded.  “Ser Si Rusa, welcome to my fete.  Thank you for coming.  And these are…?”

**

By the time I could correctly and politely pass off my receiving duties to Atzana, Antras had found someone to occupy Kallen.  “The Puriren Grand Patriarch is here in his wheeled chair, Serin,” he said quietly in my ear.  “Armed with years of stories and quite irrepressible.  Very tenacious as well.  Not one to offend.”

“Thank you, Antras.  And Kallen?”

“He is over near the Hyerne chef gazing rather too disgustedly at her display.”

“Thank you.”

Antras had found the perfect person to keep a spy occupied.  An elderly Aitzas who absolutely must not be offended and full of stories capable of making a Mahid collapse unconscious from boredom.  “Ser Puriren, good evening. I missed you at the steps.”

"Ah! Ah?  Aan?  Oh yes... I knew your brother... surly boy... Minis is it? Yes... ah... yes... I remember the day you were born... Muunas damned hot it was..."

He would have come in early and been brought around to the garden. I was merely keeping up the fiction that he was still strong enough to come down the stairs.  The hollow, thin-haired man with a wrap and whisps of white carefully combed over it, smiled at me.  He still had several of his teeth. Astonishing for a man his age. 

“My personal greetings to you.  Might I introduce you to one of my former companions in the Marble Palace?  A young fellow just terribly enthusiastic to hear ever one of your stories.” 

I paced slowly beside him as he clung to the collar of a large fluffy. A curly haired white dog capable of pulling the old man, with red and silver patches dyed into its fur.  It was attached to his chair by a harness and towed him easily, tongue lolling.

“Oh… wonderful, young Aan… you are very like your father… I knew him when I was a boy…” He began to reminisce even as he rolled down the path.

The Hyerne chef juggled her knives. The two braziers on either side of the expensive ceramic sheet blazed, throwing up a gateway of sparks on either side of her, fire glowing on her dark skin and even darker nipples, surrounded by fascinated/appalled party guests.

I eased up behind Ilian where he stared and said.  "Ah, there you are, Kallen.  You know the most senior Puriren.  Ser Puriren, this is the young man I told you of."  The old man let go the dog's collar and latched onto Kallen's sleeve in a grip that looked like it would take three strong solas to pry off, and there I left them.  Kallen gaped, already tangled in the hundreds of generations of the Fortunate Fifty, drowning in the morass of  who married whom and why and social events that had been important fifty years before he was born.

He wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise with a block wedge and a hammer.  The old man talked to a completely captive and appalled Kallen, while I excused myself to resume my receiving duties.  

I admit...I smiled as I walked away, floating... flying away on the flow of endless family connections and an elder's physical problems.

430 - Dressed for Success

I didn’t need to check myself in the mirror one last time.  “Heya, Minis how do I look?”  Ili turned in front of me.  “Clean? Tidy? Proper?”

He wore a red boy’s shirt in satin with tiny silver flowers embroidered all over, his nod to his Uncle Kall and my colours, with his kilt in a creamy silver silk.  His sandals were neatly buckled and his hair combed perfectly.  His gloves matched his kilt and he had a brush of silver powder on his bare arms. His smile was bright.  “Perfect!” I said.  “You’ve even brushed the gap in your teeth!”

“Aw… you’re being silly.  I like the half cape thing.”  I was wearing a blue/purple/red shirt that shone in one of those colours depending on which direction one saw it reflect.  Skorsas had approved one of Skala’s designs for a dark silver half-cape, clasped with an ivory chain across my chest, the one point at the back hanging the same level as my front kilt peak.  It was weighted with tiny alternating red and ivory stones along the bottom edge and point so it would swing nicely. My only jewellery was my various birthday tokens on their silver chain and a ruby earring in one ear.  I wore no rings on my gloves at all.

Kallijas was in his family’s shade of silver, with cranes in a different shine of silver woven through the cloth.  He wore a men’s presentation robe in red over it, with a dark blue… almost black kilt. He wore a topaz pendant that was carved into the shape of his sword, that Chevenga had gifted him with, on a matching woven silk strand. It was same shade as his hair.

“We might have an idea how we are doing,” he said quietly, straightening his cuffs with their gold pips upon them.  “Kazien is holding his fete tonight as well, and Itzan’s barge party has ceased for tonight out of courtesy.  It was probably a mistake for Kazien to announce his competing party.  People see it as bad form.”

“We will be popular because we are new.  The others are a known quantity.  And you threw some parties before, when you were running alone.  They’ll probably try and attend both if they could wrangle invitations.” He nodded thoughtfully at me.

“I’ll see if we can somehow find that out, later,” he said and went on ahead of me.  Probably to have a quiet word with Skorsas. I turned the other way in the hall to greet the Sera and the Serina coming down the stairs from their wing.

Kyriala was wearing something white and gold… white, almost sheer fabric with a lace of gold roses over that… and the bottom hem caught up to show panels of cloth of gold with an overlace of white roses.  She had thin red braids and tiny gold and silver roses the size of my thumb woven into the whole fall of hair to her feet.  In contrast her fan was the same blue/purple/red fabric as my shirt with silver feathers fluttering from the wrist loop. As was proper, I gave her mother my greeting.  She was dressed in a rose coloured gown in a ten-year classic style so tight she looked like a rose-coloured column.

“Sera, Serina, May I compliment the Seras’ on their beauty?”  I kissed the back of my hand and blew it toward them.  It was just a tiny bit risqué and a mildly silly flirtatious gesture from a boy to a grown woman. 

“Serin Aan, you compliment an older woman, most outrageously!” Sera Liren smiled at me and offered her the tip of her fan for me to escort her down to the ballroom.  Ky smiled and winked at me behind her fan so her mama wouldn’t see.  She came on my other side, holding her mother’s rose coloured wrap for her, helping with her train down the stairs.

The Ballroom… Skorsas had stepped in with his eye for entertaining and was there, supervising the last minute touches before he let Antras and Bilabas begin receiving.  The Ballroom was decorated with thousands of phoenix roses.  The pale white petals with the deep red centres and streaks like flames were everywhere.  And here and there… as a complete surprise would be a tiny black Mahid rose.

The lamps shone brass and blue-flame and the terrace had two copper firebowls burning blue should the evening become cool, carefully screened so that no one’s hair or trailing finery should catch fire.  All the garden paths were lit and the glass doors of the old, newly restored baths stood open, inviting investigation.

I was breathing hard even as the musicians in the ballroom began their first set of the evening and my gut was already in a knot. They would be playing for the dancing here, there would be a quieter musician in the baths to play for anyone swimming or gathering there.  And Ky had hired another duo to play in the grotto of the garden as well.

The musicians were playing something that was not specifically a dance but I turned to Ky’s mama and asked a very improper question.  “Sera, with your gracious permission, might I request a falisas of your charming daughter? On the strength of our once betrothal?”  The dance had spread from married couples to the Dyers, scandalizing the ultra conservatives.

Ky’s mother thought for a moment as we settled her upon the Sera’s dias where she could see the whole room.  “I suppose it would be appropriate.  After all we have not enough guests for a proper first set.” 

Seeing that there was no one there yet, that was an understatement.  “Serina Liren.  Would you be so kind as to consider dancing a falisas with me?” I think she wanted to tell me no, just to bother her mama but instead put out her fan like the great Serina she was and allowed me to take the tip of her fan with my fingers.

“Of course, Serin.  I recall the last time we practiced this, we had a Mahid harper and a Mahid chaperone.”

“Indeed.”  I coughed and called to the musicians who had finished their first piece.  “I shall endeavour not to shock you, or be too forward.”  All loud enough for her mama’s ears. In the background I could hear the boom as the Gate to the estate was opened and the beginning sounds of guests arriving. The Music Master of Ten raised his stick, properly and neatly covered with a graceful cloth, and they began The Springtime Falisas.
 
“Or plot how we are to flee the crowd, either,” she whispered back and nearly made me stumble, even as I placed my one hand on her waist and we swept around in the first steps.

429 - Another Letter and Clogged Drains

We’re sitting on a balcony where we’ll be able to see any wings coming into the city from the North West and I’m writing a letter as my exercise in penmanship this morning.  Every time I get to the end of a sentence I look up to see if there’s a bunch of wings coming in.

Dear….. Minis….

Ailadas and Grandfather are sitting and helping me write my letter to you, even though you’ll be home today.  They say it’s good practice.  I think they like each other and it turns out that Grandfather watched Ailadas play faibalitz when he was younger.

They are sitting and drinking kaf and talking about a lot of faib guys who were stars years and years and years ago.  Not like today.  Not like the new picked recruits for the city team.  There’s a boy from the mountains who they say used to hurl rocks to make his fingers stronger and he was picked first draft round.  Eforon Kyonas.  Nuninibas says he’s going to be lame.  He’s cheering for the Anoseth team this year. His favourite new player is a fellow by the name of Daril Etzer.

Grandfather says this is perhaps something that you might not be interested in right now, running for being Imperator.  He says you will be a little ‘pre… occu… pied.’  I’m not worried.  I mean people in Arko are going to take one look at you and Uncle Kallijas and then look at the other guys, Stupid. Stupider. And Party Man… and say ‘I know who's the best.”

Ailadas says that is perhaps not ‘politic’ to write down and certainly not ‘polite’ either.  So I’ll just say I think you and Uncle Kall are the best. I know after you win I’m going to have to not pay so much attention to stuff like faib or the speed races on Fast Street, or the house-donkey steeplechase somebody is putting together for Jitzmithra this year.

The garden is sort of back in order with the grass maze only ankle high.  The lily ponds and fish ponds are fixed and all the dirt got washed away and the folly looks like it is sitting on top of a huge glass gate now.  The Liren’s old baths were easier to fix than the architect thought.  Mostly cleaning the old plumbing and Nuni and I got in trouble for trying to help the workmen fix them too much.

He knocked over the plaster.  I only stepped in the paint. But that was to keep Roar from drinking it and Jia got all over plaster dust and we had to go give everybody a cascade and didn’t think it was a problem to use the indoor one…I’m sorry but I had to get Jia clean before he got covered in crusty bits stuck to his skin all over.  Ailadas said he wouldn’t have hardened into a statue but I wanted to be sure.

Nuni’s mama said it was all right… it was his drain to plug up if he wanted to.  But Ky and Ailadas were disappointed in me.  He and I cleaned up most of the mess, hone…”  I looked up a lot of times while I was writing all of this and jumped up, my pen made a splotch on my letter.

“Hey! Hey lookit!  It’s Minis… that’s the wing he’s using… his own wing is pretty much finished but he said it was safer…”

“Ilesias.  Calm, please.  Order.” Grandfather had a really effective voice to call me to order.

Ailadas set his cup down.  “Let us go, Ilesias.  You and I will skate and your Grandfather will ride an express chair.  We’ll meet them on the Marble Palace roof.”

**

Kyriala sat, going down her checklist for the party.  The garden was just being dressed for the party, with phoenix lanterns being hung.  Personally she thought the phoenix theme, though appropriate, was very bright, the blue alcohol flames lighting through and between brass feathers.

“Ky! I have a lovely idea for you,” Skala peeked into the office.  “You said you wanted to open the baths so people could see them and use them for the party – the shameless foreigners would swim no matter what?  Look!”

She shook out plain linen outfits, with gloves, one was a long shift the other with trousers.  “Arkan swimming costume!  Everyone decently covered.”

Kyriala had to smile.  “Perfect!  I have a plain shift I can use that fits me.  You’re a genius, woman!”

“So you can announce it.”

“I don’t think Minis will be up to swimming but he’ll want to see the baths.  He’s still not entirely recovered from his illness.  I’ll set him up in the baths with the door open and people will be able to come to him.”

“Oh we’ll be able to set up Aztana nearby if he needs a secretary.  The baths will be wide open through the hill so her paper won’t curl.  The butler just said that the caterers are here and that all the flowers are taken care of.”

Ky rose.  “Lovely.  I shall come and speak to everyone.  Would you do me the favour and finish going through this last minute guest list?  A whole box of calling cards responding to my invitations just arrived.”

“Certainly, Ky.”

**

The Liren household buzzed with the number of people doing party preparations.  Antras was helping Bilabas and my servants had joined forces with the Liren’s below stairs to make sure everything went smoothly.

But Antras had insisted I nap or try to this afternoon since it was going to be such a late night… and I had several speaking engagements tomorrow.  Most of what I was doing was talking. 

Ili blasted in around then and asked after my health said ‘Oops, I didn’t mean to wake you…” grabbed about eight things he needed out of his room, tucked Jia and the white cat in with me before being gone again before I could wake up all the way.

JiaKlem cheeped and curled all eight of his arms up under himself next to the pillow and the white cat insisted on pressing his nose against my chin either threatening to bite me or drool on me but he purred so I let him stay too.

I could smell an amazing feast being cooked and that reminded me I need to check with Skorsas, what to do with the last of my ‘winning an empire’ treasury.  Perhaps more correct would be ‘wining’ an Empire? How much wine... would it take... to wine a whole empire...one glass per person... no that was too stingy, two... times eleven million… then I needed to figure out how many of that eleven million were children and not voters… divided by the number of glasses per flask gave me how many flasks, times... I should ask Ienas from the Fig… he’d have a better idea. Can’t be plonk…  My brain was doing odd things. I cannot just spend it, though I suppose it doesn’t matter if I lose.  But if I win… I think I fell asleep around then thinking that would be the foundation of the Aan personal fortune… Ili’s legacy really.

The Assembly was arguing about the keeping of the Imperator whether it should be the Empire who pays for him, or whether he should be paid and allowed to keep accounts of his own.  Personally I preferred the more Yeoli style of the Imperator being supported by the Empire.

Gannara and Farasha peeked in and I pretended to still be napping… or perhaps I was half asleep.  I’d need my guts if I were to have anything to eat at all tonight at the rally party.  I must have been half asleep because I heard them whispering and giggling as they helped each other into their formal clothes.  Oh.  They’d gone to get clean and I missed it.  My head must have drifted off into sleep because they were coming back, giggling about a plugged drain.  Weird.

I stirred and sat up and padded out to the suite’s garderobe.  Gan was wearing an Asinanai kilt and a fine silk version of his marya… the Arkan version of the Yeoli garment, much lighter than the wool they’d originally been made of.  He was not only growing taller than Chevenga but his chin was a completely different shape now. He’d been growing his hair long for two years and it was just brushing the back hem of his marya and Farasha was un-knotting a snarl for him again.

She was wearing a silk on silk embroidered shirt and vest and short trousers, leaving her calves and feet bare. She had amazingly beautiful feet and strong calves.  I stopped myself right there.  Perhaps later she’d let me fantasize about her legs.

“Morning, sleepyhead.  The cascade is free.  Antras laid out a nice outfit for you.  Party starts in two beads.  You might be able to help Kyriala, she’s flying around doing ten things at once and Kallijas just arrived.  He looks magnificent.”

I yawned and belched a little.  My stomach and my guts felt better.  “I’ll take more remedies and try to look magnificent too, instead of ill.”

“Just have fun, heart’sbrother.  Just have fun.”

“Right. What’s this about a clogged drain? Or did I dream that?” I asked as I opened the cascade door and Farasha started laughing.

428 - Before the Party

Dear Chevenga,

I need to write you, even as I am only an eight-day away from you.  If I can overcome my squirming, shameful fear of speaking in public and win my Regency and Minis’s Ascension, I will be writing you every day.

First of all, love, I know you, my alesinas, are probably working too hard.  Please listen to Skorsas and Niku and Surya and get enough rest, hmmm?

A smallish rainstorm blew up off the sea and put us on the ground for a day and I am taking advantage of the day’s delay to train with the solas in town. I get the feeling that I am doing better campaigning that way rather than by talking.  I’m talking to voters through my sword.

I hear that some solas are even making noises as if they were considering, as a family, that husband and wife might vote for Minis and I, which is interesting.  It is funny how many sola's are coming to watch their boys and their husbands train.

I hear that Kallen is speaking his way out toward me, a short loop from the city.  Even with this delay I am assuming I shall stand on the same platform somewhere around Rim Rock.  I am hearing good reports of Minis and I hope he is hearing good report of me.  Apparently Kazien was speaking toe-to-toe with him and an exchange of political opinion between them was very obvious.  I admit that a sneaking, nasty part of me wanted the boy to actually vomit upon the man’s boots but that would have been politically not a good move.  I laud him for using his brief illness so well as to use the vomiting upon the stage incident, and am a little ashamed of myself for being proud of that move.

Itzan seems to still be throwing the most massive party on that barge of his on the Lake.  I am not sure it has stopped since he launched his bid.  So I do not expect to face him on the same platform until I get back.

I hold hard to the idea that I am already half way through this circuit and will be home in time for the big party. I allow myself imaginings of my homecoming and I hope you are looking after yourself well, because you will certainly require all the energy you have, love.  I blush to myself that I am so forward.  Look at how you and your wild Yeolis have corrupted me!

I am, of course, writing to my young Kallijas and I hope he and the other children are applying themselves diligently and not getting in too much trouble.  Skorsas has told me that the price of the lace under-loincloth is being well and thoroughly worked off by my son, with minimum complaint.  I wish I had seen it fluttering from the beak of the Iron Tower Eagle, but you know me.  I would have blushed at that too.

That lewd little artist that did that series of us, is offering to do a small marble of Kall Jr. and I together... in a sense I think it is his way of making up to me the rudeness of those bronzes.

I send thoughts of my bare hands in your direction, Cheng, and loving, warm intentions, with all my strength.  I am only an eight-day away and tomorrow I will be starting my winging back down to the city.  All my love and respect,

Your Kall

**

Dear Kall,

Kallijas, you are a fine speaker.  When you let yourself speak from the heart, you're brilliant.  Just be yourself up there!  Just pretend you are talking to each person there one to one - that's how they're hearing you, in truth.

Mil doesn't seem much inclined to making speeches, except from the head of a table or a ballroom dais.  The thing you might have to worry about is that he seems to have gained the backing of the Yeoli hawks. That means he's made some sort of deal with them, probably not to throw them out on their butts once he's Imperator, to overlook past and present crimes--to leave them the power they have. Look for them to urge him to do a campaign of insults--or do it for him themselves.  They did that to me.

Get enough rest?  That was a joke, right?  When I'm done with Arko, perhaps. 

Corrupted you, us?  I couldn't in a thousand years, trying incessantly.  This is why I must continue trying incessantly.

Rudeness of the bronzes?  I thought they were beautiful.  I have one on my office window-sill.

I apologize for my offsprings' part in the pranks of your offspring, with all their aiding and abetting.  Their only excuse is that they came by it honestly. 

Our spawn are active, as usual.  The other day I’d just finished and was skating in late, and I come into the Imperial bedchamber and see a house donkey suspended in the harness over the bed, dressed in various bits of our clothing and a paper mask and hat on his head.  There was a bag of sweet feed there, that they’d obviously used to keep him quiet.

The poor little thing was braying his tiny head off, Niku was lying on the floor laughing, Skorsas was acting utterly blasé and Shaina and Etana were both sitting down.  I joined Niku on the floor.  I don’t know who instigated it, so I’m making the lot of them work with the house donkeys and the servants for an eight-day, despite much braying about “injustice.”

Not much excitement happening here, with the candidates all out of town drumming up support.  I am doing nothing but the constitution all day anyway and going flabby with no training.  You'll thrash me when we spar next, probably.

And then I will have to submit utterly to you in bed. I don't know how I will stand it.  You might gather I miss you desperately.  I'm trying not to think about having to be without you, except for daily letters, for two years.  A sacrifice we both make, for Arko.

Maybe I will take a sabbatical from the semanakraseyesin for my thirtieth year, just so that I can laze around, fly when I feel like it, and get you, Niku and Skorsas to sip pehahka out of my navel frequently.

Oh Kall!  You are so beautiful when you blush! I need not see it.  I can imagine.

Go on speaking well, my love, safe journey everywhere, good campaigning, make those voters love you (it should be effortless).  I will be here when you come home to take you into my arms.

Know I ache for missing you but am taking heart that it won't be long now. My naked hands touch yours... then run all over your body mercilessly... in spirit.

All my love, your

Chevenga

**

Dear Minis,

I am almost back to the city and I heard about you vomiting upon the platform and how you said it was because of the vileness of what he said.  I believe I have been able to handle the rude men in the crowds better than I thought.  I find my experience dealing as an unofficial officer is actually standing me in good stead.

My son is apparently being a very naughty boy while I am off speaking, making Chevenga and Skorsas’s and Niku’s and Shaina and Etana’s lives more difficult, but I am still very proud of him, since his teachers tell me he’s still being diligent.  Of course he tells me only of his diligence in his letters.  Ask him about the house donkey when you get home.

I am endeavoring to make our win a sure one, to the best of my abilities.

Good speech, lad.  I hope I can match you when I face Kallen on the platform… it should be tomorrow.  I am glad to hear that your illness is minor. Get well soon and I will see you when I get back to the city.

Kallijas

**

Dear, Honoured Sire,

I hope you are keeping well in your speaking tour.  I am doing my best with my scholastic work and my war-training.  Mama has gone off for her wedding trip with her new husband and they send me letters from where ever their ship puts into port.

No matter what they say, Honourable Father, I really, really didn’t have that much to do with the donkey. I mean… I only got the platform out to protect the bed… and the sweet feed… Not much at all!

I won't even tell you it wasn't my idea at all.  I won't tell you whose idea it was because that would be dishonourable!

And he made us... I mean, he persuaded us.. I mean... well he said it and we all laughed really hard and decided we had to do it.

We're all taking the punishment equally. I promise I won't do anything like this to you when you're Imperator, Dad.

Your dutiful and faithful son,

Kallijas Itrean [I can sign that to you, Dad because you won’t get confused!]

__________________________

AN: Thanks to Karen for Chevenga's letter and lots of...certain... well most of... innocent protestations from Kallijas Jr.