by Jon Skovron
“Best smiles, everyone,” Leston said quietly as he climbed out of the carriage. Red had never seen him so tense. Was he so desperate to please his mother?
Red followed behind Leston and Nea as they walked toward the empress. She didn’t look particularly hard to please, but there was no rushing into each other’s arms when mother and son met either. Once he reached the deck, Leston stopped, keeping a few feet of distance between them.
“Welcome, my son,” she said in a rich, steady voice that carried easily over the wind. The other lords and ladies remained in their carriages, but Red was fairly sure most of them could still hear her.
“Your Majesty.” Leston bowed deeply. “You remain the brightest jewel of the empire.”
It was all a lot more formal and reserved than Red had expected. Was this a normal greeting between lacy parents and children, or something specific to Leston and his mom? Red glanced over at Nea, but as usual, her thoughts and emotions were hidden behind her mask of artful diplomacy. He found himself wishing that Merivale were there to explain this behavior to him.
“Your Majesty,” continued Leston in his formal tone. “I have the honor to introduce you to Ambassador Nea Omnipora of Aukbontar.”
Red could almost taste Leston’s desperation that these two get along. But Red was confident that if anyone could handle such a situation, it was Nea.
“It is thrilling beyond measure to meet the jewel of the Empire of Storms in person,” said Nea. “Your Majesty, I fear my poor grasp of your language leaves me unable to properly communicate the awe I feel in your presence.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Empress Pysetcha said, her eyes showing a tiny twinkle of mischief. “I think you’re doing just fine.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The empress turned back to her son, her expression once again solemn. “I look forward to meeting your other companions and speaking with them all at dinner this evening. In the meantime, perhaps you would like to settle into your lodgings and rest from your journey while I greet the remainder of your company.”
Leston gave her a pained look. “My apologies for such a large retinue, Your Majesty. I tried my best to keep it to a manageable number.”
She smiled and shook her head. “It is both my duty and privilege to welcome so many lords and ladies to my humble home. Now, if you will excuse me, I must begin, or I fear I won’t make it in time for dinner.”
A man in a white suit stepped forward. “If Your Highness and his companions will come with me, please.”
They followed the man into the house, while the empress remained behind to greet each and every lord and lady who made the pilgrimage to Sunset Point to see her.
The inside of the house reminded Red somewhat of Merivale’s apartments in its openness and minimalist decor. But where Merivale’s home was all hard angles and geometric shapes, the empress’s home was all curves and smooth flowing lines that made the entire space feel connected from room to room. There were skylights in every room made of semitransparent glass, tinted periwinkle, mint, or lavender, which cast tones of mood as well.
The man in white took them down several twists and turns through the colored maze until they came to the far side of the house. The rooms at this end had windows that faced the sea and doors that opened out onto the wooden deck, which hung over the water.
“Here is your suite, Your Highness.” The man indicated the largest of the three rooms.
“Thank you, Kurdem,” said Leston.
“Gentlemen,” Kurdem said to Red and Etcher. “Your room is here on the left. And madam.” He inclined his head to Nea. “Yours is on the right.”
Nea peeked into the room. “I see it has two beds. Will I be sharing the room?”
“My sincerest apologies, Ambassador. With so many guests in our humble home, it may be necessary, in order to accommodate everyone.”
“It is perfectly fine.” Nea gave him her bright, diplomatic smile. “I was merely curious.”
Leston leaned over to Kurdem and whispered something. With his enhanced hearing, Red could have heard it if he made the effort, but it seemed wrong somehow. He really was beginning to lose his edge if he was starting to think eavesdropping was a bad thing.
“As you wish, Your Highness. Now, if I may take my leave, I will make certain your luggage arrives with all haste.”
“Thank you, Kurdem,” said Leston.
“Oh, one more thing,” said Kurdem. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind His Highness, but the rest of you may want to make a point of stepping out onto the deck just at sunset so you can experience for yourselves why Her Majesty wisely gave this home its name.”
“My thanks, Kurdem,” said Nea. “We will be sure to do so.”
Kurdem nodded and headed back toward the front of the house.
Red hoped he could find some excuse to sneak off somewhere and test out his whistle and cotton earplugs. The luggage arrived only a few minutes later. Red unpacked quickly, but before he could slip away, he got dragged into helping Etcher, who had quite a lot to unpack.
“What is all this stuff?” Red asked as he tried to fit a collection of small empty cages under his bed.
“I am hoping to encounter some authentic wildlife during our stay here,” said Etcher as he tried to cram a few empty painting canvas frames in the wardrobe. “Do you think the seal statues on the cornices indicate that they are common in this area?”
“Probably not,” said Red as he slid a large wooden trunk under Etcher’s bed. “You see them on a lot of lacy houses for some reason. At least, I hope there aren’t any seals around here. I heard they’re nasty as goblin sharks, and more clever.”
Etcher placed a three-foot-long sailcloth sack on the ground and began to pull curious little wooden contraptions out of it, examining each carefully. “You’ve never seen one yourself, then?”
“I’m more of a city wag, old pot. Nature and I tend to keep our distance from each other. I did meet a gaf once who sounded like a seal when he laughed, though.” Red made some barking noises. “Maybe he was part seal?”
Etcher gave him a suspicious look, as if trying to determine if Red was joking. “I have heard that biomancers can blend animal and man.”
Red’s smile dropped away. “Yeah. I did see that once.”
“Really?” Etcher abandoned his contraptions on the floor and pulled out a notebook. He sat on the edge of Red’s bed, a stub of pencil poised eagerly. “You must tell me all about it.”
“It was someone my best wag Hope used to sail with. Gaf by the name of Ranking. He killed their captain, so she cut off his arm.”
Etcher’s eyes grew wide. “A friend of yours did that?”
“She’d sworn to protect the captain. She’s Vinchen, and they take their vows more seriously than most.”
“Vinchen… I’ve heard of them. A religious order, correct?”
“Are they?” Red had only ever known them as warriors, but it made a certain sense. The way Hope stuck to her principles did have a bit of religious zeal to it. Plus, the whole celibacy thing. “I suppose they might be. Anyway, we were in a bit of a hurry after that so we didn’t know what happened to Ranking. I assumed he just bled out on the tavern floor.”
“You say that with such casualness,” said Etcher. “Does that kind of thing happen often here?”
“Here? No. In Paradise Circle, often enough that you wouldn’t think too long about it.”
“But this Ranking. He did not bleed to death?”
“I’m sure he wished he had. Because when we saw him a few weeks later, after a biomancer got ahold of him, you wouldn’t even call him human anymore.”
Etcher tapped his pencil on his notebook. “Describe him in as much detail as you can.”
“Why are you so interested in it?”
“Are you joking?” Etcher’s eyes widened. “It defies everything we know about science. Things in your empire that seem commonplace to you go against what we have always believed to be the very laws
of nature. Is there simply some aspect that has always eluded us? Or have we been completely wrong for centuries?” He shook his head, staring down at the blank page of his notebook. “I must know and then understand these anomalies to whatever extent I am able. I must bring back proof, if any can be obtained, so that I can convince the scientific community that everything we thought we knew must be reconsidered.”
“So you’re saying stuff like this doesn’t happen in Aukbontar at all?” asked Red. “It only happens in our empire?”
“Well, no,” admitted Etcher. “We have heard… similarly troubling rumors from visitors to Haevanton. But I am skeptical of any intelligence that comes out of there.”
“Haevanton? Where in all hells is that?”
“The Haevanton Triumvirate? You’re not familiar with it?”
“Is it like… another country?” Red thought of Mavokadia, the country Nea said was located north of Aukbontar. Were there more?
“Technically, it is three countries united under one government. And it is to the east of both our countries, across the Tragic Sea.”
“The Tragic Sea?” Red felt completely lost now.
“Sorry,” said Etcher. “The official name for it is the Tranquil Sea, but everyone calls it the Tragic Sea because people who cross it almost never return. Although now that we know about the southern waterway, that will be less of a problem.” He tapped his pencil on his chin. “Assuming, of course, that we get a treaty in place with the Empire of Storms.”
Red knew he was only dimly grasping what Etcher was talking about, but that last part sounded like some sort of diplomatic goal of Nea’s. One that she hadn’t shared with Red or Leston yet.
“What does this Haevanton have to do with the empire?” he asked, keeping his tone casual. Almost disinterested.
“Oh.” Etcher looked suddenly panicked.
“Oh?” asked Red.
“Maybe I should not be talking about that…”
“It’s alright, my wag,” Red said smoothly. “You and me are old pots. Last thing I’d want is for you to get in some sort of trouble with Nea.”
“I find it all very challenging,” Etcher said plaintively. “I am a scientist, not a diplomat. I believe all knowledge should be shared for the benefit of the entire human race, not just one country.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Etch. We’re all in this rotten old world together, aren’t we?”
“Exactly my point!”
“But you got to follow the boss, don’t you? Frustrating as it is. So anytime you’re burning to discuss some bit of knowledge but can’t go telling the whole world, you just come to me and I’ll keep it safe for you.”
“Thank you, Red. That is very generous of you,” Etcher said earnestly.
Red didn’t know exactly why he was working his way into Etcher’s confidence, but as much as he liked Nea, he suddenly felt like she was much more devious than he’d originally reckoned.
“No problem, my wag. Us underlings got to stick together. Let the bosses worry about the big stuff, right?”
“I wish I had been able to come here on a purely research-focused mission,” admitted Etcher. “Politics makes my head hurt. But the expense of traveling this distance was too great to justify a simple exploratory expedition. The Great Congress likes a… multifaceted approach.”
“So you hitched a ride on Nea’s diplomatic mission instead,” said Red. “Very clever.”
“Let us hope so,” said Etcher. “If things go poorly in negotiations, there may be…”
He froze, his eyes locked on the door behind Red that led to the deck.
Red turned and saw Nea smiling at them, the last light of the setting sun casting her in silhouette.
“Gentlemen, it is nearly time for the sunset. Kurdem made a point of mentioning it, so we should not miss it.”
“Of course, Ambassador!” Etcher jumped to his feet, looking guilty. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”
Red stood up with deliberate ease and smiled at her. “I do love a good sunset.” It was a lie, of course. Watching the sun directly hurt his eyes, even with his darkened lenses. But if Nea was keeping things from him, he would keep things from her.
Red followed Etcher out onto the deck, which connected all three rooms. He saw Leston leaning against the rail, gazing out at the fiery ball of red that hung just above the waterline. It sent streaks of crimson into the darkening sky while ripples of liquid ruby spread across the sea. It really was beautiful. Painful and terrible to his sensitive eyes, but gloriously savage.
He took a spot on the rail next to Leston and the two watched it for some time. Red knew he’d be seeing spots for a little while after, but it was worth it.
“I do hope you’ll forgive the intrusion, Your Highness and your lordship,” came a familiar voice. “But I was instructed by the ambassador to come and witness the sunset with all due haste.”
Red turned toward the voice. The spots prevented him from seeing her face, but he didn’t need to.
“Lady Hempist, your delightful company is never an intrusion,” Red said dryly. “What brings you to this side of the house?”
“His Highness requested that I be Ambassador Omnipora’s roommate,” she said.
“Oh?” Red gave Leston a meaningful look, even though the spots would prevent him from seeing the reaction.
“Lady Hempist and Ambassador Omnipora have become great friends of late.” There was a touch of defensiveness in the prince’s voice.
“Really,” said Red.
“As a matter of fact, we have,” said Merivale.
The lingering spots still prevented Red from seeing her expression, but he detected something taunting in her tone.
“How delightful,” he said evenly, wondering how authentic this new friendship was.
“Yes,” said Leston. “So I thought that if the ambassador had to share a room with someone, it should be with a friend rather than a stranger. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Makes perfect sense,” said Merivale.
“And of course, she’ll be accompanying us to dinner with my mother,” said Leston.
“Naturally,” said Red, forcing a cheerful tone.
“I’m looking forward to it immensely,” said Merivale with a similar tone.
“I do hope,” said the prince, “that the two of you can resolve whatever ill will has come between you.”
“Is that an imperial command?” Merivale asked.
Leston thought about it a moment. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.”
The formal dining room was in the center of the house. As far as Red could tell, it was the largest room in the house as well. It looked more like a banquet hall than a room, and held seven round tables. Six were spaced out evenly on the ground level. The seventh table was on a raised platform so that all the lords and ladies could look up and enjoy the radiant beauty of the jewel of the empire while they ate.
And she was radiant. As he sat down at the table, he was struck again by her presence, which was at once warm and generous, yet somehow still daunting. She certainly seemed more imperial than that broken-down old man in golden robes back at the palace. Empress Pysetcha inspired an almost reverent awe in everyone she spoke to. Even, he had to admit, in himself.
“And who is this man with the curiously lovely eyes?” she asked as her gaze fell directly on Red for the first time.
“This is my dear friend, Lord Rixidenteron Pastinas,” said the prince, who sat to her right.
“Indeed?” The empress sipped wine from a crystal goblet. “I recall the previous Lord Pastinas.” She said it without any hint of what her opinions about him might have been.
“My late grandfather, Your Majesty.” Red accepted a goblet of wine from a servant with a nod of thanks. “He passed away about nine months ago.”
“I am sorry for your loss.”
“Not much of a loss, Your Majesty.” Red was taking a gamble being so honest, but if his instincts were right, it would pay off. “I hardly
knew him, and what little I knew, I didn’t like.”
“I hope you’ll excuse Lord Pastinas,” Leston said quickly, putting down his wine. “His upbringing was… unconventional.”
“Not at all,” said Pysetcha. Red was relieved to see that twinkle returning to her eye. “A little candor is refreshing. And I’m pleased to see you making friends, Leston. Even unconventional ones.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Leston’s face flushed and he grabbed at his goblet like a man who needed to steady himself from a swoon. Red realized it was probably the most intimate thing she’d said to him since their arrival.
The empress nodded to Merivale. “Lady Hempist I know all too well. I trust you’ve been actively whittling away your family fortune on clothing and baubles, my lady?”
Merivale smiled graciously and lifted her glass as if toasting her. “Your Majesty does know me well. Although I have recently discovered something new to spend my family’s money on.”
“And what, pray tell, is that?”
“Books, Your Majesty. I recently picked up a very engaging biography of the famous proto-Passionist painter Lady Gulia Pastinas.” She turned to Red. “Why, I do believe you are related to her, Lord Pastinas?”
“My mother.” Red was unable to keep the tension out of his voice. Apparently, if Merivale couldn’t flirt with him, she would spar with him instead. He wondered if this was the book she had been so coy about showing him when they met on the street a little while back.
“Ah. This must be the unconventional upbringing my son referred to,” said Empress Pysetcha.
“In part, Your Majesty.” Red had worn his background proudly his whole life, even at the palace. But under the royal gaze of the empress, he felt a tickle of shame for the first time. So rather than elaborate, or spin it into one of his grand tales, he decided to leave it at that.
Merivale apparently had other ideas. “It’s a very moving narrative, Your Majesty,” she said blithely, as if it were only a story and not part of Red’s life. “Fraught with the pathos and tragedy one might expect from the life of a Silverback artist. And the author, a fellow by the name of Thoriston Baggelworthy, included the most amusing appendix about the folk slang of New Laven. Such charming little phrases like ‘true as trouble’ and ‘simple as sideways.’”