Now, she was looking at me here, outside the palace of Karatel. I'd left the meeting, the final one, telling Ellia I was tired; but really I'd meant to avoid Leddy, at least where Ellia could so easily see it. In part, it was also true that I meant to try to rest; I had doubts that I would be able to sleep so many miles away from Ellia, but then I had doubts that I would be able to sleep just before I was meant to leave her as well. Either way, I'd half-expected Leddy to follow me—not that I wanted her to—and for that reason, I'd moved among the half-emptied stalls of weapons and armor; the stall for horseshoes, to be precise. There were a handful of blacksmiths working nearby. Soldiers roamed about. Chimera flew off a ways towards the fields, shooting off sparks. Here in this part of the city, you could still see the palace, it was tall enough, but it was beside one of the broken down walls of Karatel—so the plains were grey and open past tumbled stones.
It was a while, fiddling with nothing in particular; thinking how I still needed to pick out my weapon; watching one of the smoldering fires, which weren't torches, but rather coals set into a tall bowled stand—smoldering out red light, and rising black smoke; then she came.
If I'd hoped we wouldn't draw attention, I'd failed not thinking of her thick, red curls, which stood out worse away from Echren—and fell down around her like a coat. Or her dress, or now she had a firebird with her even, a bird! It came to land on the stand of coals close by me, even resting itself just inside them.
I took care watching that for a moment, I watched the horseshoe I was holding, then I looked at Leddy.
"You called for me," she said, approaching carefully at first, then after smiling at a passing Katellian, stalking up with a bounce that said she was in those years just before womanhood, not after. "Or was that my imagination, that you nodded I should follow after. I've been waiting for you to do so."
"Waiting by drilling a hole through me with your stares," I retorted automatically, with my breath hiking high, even, as she smiled in return.
She shook her head. "I leave tonight. I did not want to miss you all this time. Don't worry," she added, "if you do, after your princess. She thinks I stare at her. I can tell by her frowning—and isn't her disposition better set to thinking she would be receiving looks, than those who stood around her would? Even adorned as simply as she is."
"Watch yourself," I warned.
The bird tipped its beak noticeably, while Leddy pressed her hands in front of her, palm to palm. "Oh, dear, but you do please us to say such things."
My brow low, I looked between her and the bird. It was regarding me with a gaze just as telling of a girl as Leddy's was. I had suspicions, or rather fears, of what Leddy might mean by seeking me out, that she might somehow know me, but I didn't want to give myself away in speaking, so I added, "And what do you mean, calling her my princess? Do I look like I'm from her country?"
"Oh, Master Kanthian, I do not call her that for your heritage. Aren't you always standing beside her? Don't you serve her? Watch her? Aren't you called the princess's shadow? Or is all of this what I've misjudged?"
A soldier moved just past her, glancing at her, but Leddy's sole attention was for me. I did not know what to reply, since what she said was true. She and the bird watched me so intently I felt as much on display as I ever had in Akadia—in fact I felt quite a lot like I had those nights jumping balconies just to avoid handmaidens.
"Have I told you, or have you heard before," Leddy went on, "That the Zuque have articles for which they care the most?"
I put into my posture—since I couldn't with my expression—something that said I was incredulous. "Articles? What, like clothes, or rocks or something?" Rocks, what an example to give—that was all Ellia's fault. At least, I was starting to become less concerned that Leddy knew me, and more that she might just be crazy.
"No, no," she argued, jumping at my words. Her bird, shook its head in time. "I do mean something quite more significant. In example, I will say that Lord Carceron's Zuque does adore justice."
I thought of Carceron's golden bird. I realized now that they had held each other's back that day when we had met. I tried to recall Carceron's words, if he'd said anything to do with justice. I only remembered that he'd laughed a lot; laughed a lot when I'd not been too happy.
"We keepers of the Zuque are given to see things for which our birds care most. Carceron sees much of death and punishment for this reason. But do you know what I see, Kanthian? Do you know what my Zuque most adores?"
Leddy's hands were pressed to her chest, folded up to half-open fists. Her bird, looked as if it had grown a cooler shade, from its normal maroon even on to magenta, something like those pink fires which had burned in Genbu.
For some reason—not that I could usually tell what these mad people were thinking—I had a guess what her bird might adore.
"It looks like she's into me, to be honest," I threw out, "I hope it's a girl Zuque."
"Oh, but Master Lieutenant, she has adored you since she first saw you. As you, and your princess, so can you tell what she cares most for?"
It took a moment, to realize she'd said something strange. It reminded me of being there in the room with Tongon, outside of Ellia's meeting, while he told me that those shards belonged to "your" people, mine and Ellia's. And I'd been called Lieutenant, so many times... but in noticing, I ducked a step back away from Leddy.
She shook her head. "Don't worry, Master Akadian. I don't plan on giving you away. My Zuque wouldn't want that. We only wanted to speak with you. We wanted to see you. We want you to say those things you say."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Leddy blinked. I'd stopped at the stall. I wouldn't let myself move—because it would only cause more trouble to be followed, and followed where Ellia might find me, but in any other case I would have left Leddy.
The bird flamed brighter, and gave a ruffling call, then Leddy spoke close to me. "Do you know what my bird gives me to see, Master Akadian? She can tell of your mother. Have you wondered why she followed after your father? Perhaps you think it was a foolhardy thing, like those others who pursued him for his face and form, that face that you were given. It wasn't so. She bore a great yearning, yes a great yearning indeed. You are like her. And so my Zuque adores you. You've so much love there inside you, can't you feel it? Your heart will break for how much you love. —And so your mother's did."
My fingers, were gripped around the wood of the table behind me. I'd bashed back against it in her speaking. If there hadn't been so many everywhere, I wasn't sure I would have done as well, in keeping my reaction from showing. My chest was rising and falling. I wanted to want to leave, but I didn't want to. I was watching the bird, wanting to know if this was some authority that I could trust.
"I wouldn't be able to tell about it if she didn't love, Master Akadian," Leddy added. "How would I know so much then about the others. That you never knew her heart. That she died before you could have."
"Stop it."
"I only want you to admit who you are," Leddy said, frowning a little; her bird cocked its head. Leddy glanced at it, then bit her lip. "Perhaps we like to see, just for a moment, how much you cared for even her. Have you guessed what it is my Zuque adores? It's love. You have so much of it, dear Akadian. We were sorry to hear of your fall." Leddy brought her hand up to me, against my cheek, over the cloth. I wasn't in much of a state, in any case to resist her, my hands still gripping the wood. My breaths deep. She went on. "But you lasted. Carceron did not think you would, but I told him. It's the best we could have hoped for."
I swallowed, narrowing, but not looking at her. Not thinking of her. My mind was all for her words about my mother. There was that feeling, like I'd shared with Tosch in the woods. The difference been thinking and knowing. I didn't think Leddy or her Zuque knew about my mother and father for real, whether she had loved him, or whether we were alike. But, it felt the same, the words felt the same, and looking at her bird felt the same, as it had been to look
at Ellia, all those months I'd thought I didn't want to be close to her. Like I knew it was right, somehow—even though I didn't think it.
"Won't you say anything at all? You've gone very quiet."
"How do you expect me to be," I replied, shifting my gaze hard to her, her hand still on my cheek; it was the only person, that I thought had touched my face since I'd become a Kanthian. "No one's known about me all this time. You're the first. Now you're talking clear on about love; I hardly know you. You say you won't tell Ellia. But I don't know."
"You're still angry with me for speaking out against you in Echren?"
"What? No. Of course not. If I could, I would have made you keep Ellia there. That was your only mistake."
"Why, Akadian? Why would you want us to have kept her there?"
"So she would have been safe. Why do you think? I was evil. You shouldn't have let me have her. She could have called the Constellation Animals sooner. Lox could have hurt her. A million reasons."
"You would have been left alone."
"I'd rather be alone than see her hurt."
"Is that why you haven't told her?" Leddy asked.
"I—"
Her head was cocked again. Her hand had fallen. Her bird was watching me, not with interest now—just watching. Something that made me think it was appeased. I got the express feeling then, that I'd played right into what they'd wanted. Like those handmaidens—I'd just said that I would take them with me to the dining hall or take them out riding; no, not just said I would, that I already had.
"You've got it all wrong, Master Akadian," Leddy went on, blinking up at me, even smiling a little, looking much older than she had at first. "You can see that your princess shines brightly. But you don't see how you're meant to be beside her."
"You don't know me at all. I know where I'm meant to be. I won't leave her, so you just let me to it, if you care so much for love."
"Have you grown angrier, now?"
"Maybe. It seems like you're using me, and your bird. Do you think my feelings are there for you to enjoy? —Or pretending you know about my mother."
"We are not pretending."
I scoffed. I tried even to crane further away from her.
Leddy's gaze tightened. "Do you know how you are most like her, Akadian?" she asked.
I didn't want to be looking at her, or near her any longer. But at this, I couldn't help but stare at her, and carefully, measuring her features; her brow was gently dropped.
"She loved, to her hurt, one that she should not have. And no less for who they were. Don't you see how it's the same?"
I could feel it, the scoff, the ease—hearing how wrong this was. "Ellia's perfect. She's not caused me any hurt that hasn't made me better. If my mother loved my father, even as he was, then she did better. I did worse. I am not like her."
"I don't speak of the princess of Shaundakul, Cyric Dracla," Leddy replied.
When she had called me Master Lieutenant, and it had taken me that time to realize what she'd said; this was not like that. Not about using my name, I hardly even heard that. About what she'd said, and what it meant. I knew it so well, that I felt certain I'd guessed it even before all of that, some point earlier on in the conversation.
What had it been, days ago, where I'd first and finally told Ellia that I loved her? After a lifetime of fearing to? Now was I having to admit I loved the whole of the lands?
Leddy shook her head. "I know you will not tell it," she said. "I only hope for you to think on it. For we fear the outcome should you avoid it all."
"You think I avoid things?" I demanded. "I don't avoid anything. I face down all of it."
"Yes, I can see well, one by your face, and second by the way you left us there in Echren."
"That was before."
"Your face then."
"You don't understand how Ellia works; or you'd know she couldn't hear that just before a battle."
"I see that you have plans to tell her just afterwards, then?" Leddy replied.
I ducked back, feeling the remark like an actual blow. No, not the remark, the prospect.
"How will it be said," Leddy wondered aloud. "Will you ever think on it? You must, or it will never come about."
"Why are you even here?" I asked. "To torture me? If you don't mean to tell Ellia who I am, then don't. I don't want to stand here talking about love—with you, not anyone."
"Not unless it was your princess?" Leddy added quickly.
My brow fell lower. This was it, with all these people around. Not just people, also now these ones that knew things they shouldn't. It had been the same in Shaundakul, and I'd never born it well. Completely different from Akadia, where I chose what they saw. How was I ever going to be the right match for Ellia when I couldn't handle people, people, people, all the time? Princes weren't allowed to have secrets. Not even Shaundakulian ones. I'd watched Nain; everything he did was there on display. And Tobias? Somehow he'd kept open even through conspiring against Lox. Hadn't that been what got him killed?
"Peace, Akadian," Leddy said. "We can see you've reached your end. Don't fret in your mind, for you've done well."
I cleared my gaze, back on her, out of my thoughts. I remembered what I'd thought before, in Akadia, about these guys being mind-readers, now I wondered that they really were. "Reached my end in what? What do you mean?"
She smiled a little. "Well, you're frustrated aren't you?"
I barely held back a harsh scoff. "Frustrated? Didn't you just ask me if I was angry, and I told you that I was."
"So you did, but then you let me speak on as I liked. Even listening to me still? You've come a long way from the way you behaved in Echren. Losing patience, shouting."
"I've put no aim into keeping my patience with you. I see no reason to."
"And yet," she replied, looking very pleased, "You have. Doesn't that mean all the more? This is why you'll do so well in your future, master Akadian—if you do live to see it."
I kept a narrowed expression. There were chimera, still sparking bolts off behind her. Her bird hadn't changed its position since it had begun to look appeased.
"Do you see what I mean by that?" Leddy asked. "It's in your thoughts, whether you could be a king or not. I've done a test for you. Just for your sake—in exchange for all those things you said for us. Your tone is fine to listen to, even when you are upset, even as I am woman so much smaller than you. I shouldn't mind at all to be a subject in your kingdom, even coming to pester you. I shouldn't mind meeting with you as I am, at great assemblies."
"You were testing me?" I challenged.
She only smiled—so that there wasn't much to argue at. "I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That's why it was so especially difficult." She held her arm out. In a flash her bird had come to it. "You must learn our dances from Echren, Master Prince. If you can spare yourself, from your princess, in those days ahead, then I should like to dance with you. I'll wait for it."
I got stuck watching her bird, eyeing me, long enough that she had taken two steps off, and I hadn't even realized.
To try and fathom, what she'd just tested, or done, I could not; I only wondered a little if this was how Ellia had felt after meeting with the Genbuans. Still, there was something in her last words, that made me call after her.
"Wait. Leddy?"
Her foot came to a sharp stop. With a thoughtful smile, past her thick hair, she looked back at me.
"You said in those days ahead," I quoted. "You said if I can spare myself from my princess, then we could dance. Does that mean... that she'll make it through this all alright? You knew I would survive. You say you knew about my parents. I love Ellia, so tell me if she'll be alright. If you know about love, than you'll know that to tell me."
I suddenly wasn't angry at all with Leddy. I still wasn't sure whether I believed her, but I wanted to. I wanted to be able to be certain. I wanted to believe what she thought about the future—even about the past.
Leddy's gaze went distant. Then sh
e frowned. "That will depend on many things, Master Prince.... I'm sorry, I cannot tell you." She turned as if to go, and there with me, feeling a scraping in my chest. It was almost worse, having asked, now it was definitively possible at least. But Leddy stopped, suddenly, speaking, "I forgot I was meant to tell you something—even past all of this. I forgot. It's about the stars."
She moved her arm out, so that her bird took off into the air. I watched it, disappearing into reds and pinks. I didn't care so much to hear about stars, when I couldn't be sure at all of Ellia's safety. When I was thinking even of all the things Leddy had just spoken. Before I knew it, her hand was back against my face, up to my cheek. I looked to see her all redness; with eyes even that seemed to be red.
"Do you know what makes them shine the brightest?" she asked.
This got my attention, immediately, since, I'd heard it before, from Tongon, right? Or Tarful. Or both. I'd given it... not very much thought at those times, honestly, but a little. I'd guessed maybe he'd meant the shards—for the chimera. Not that I thought of chimera as stars, I thought of Ellia only, more than anything, as a star. Her brightness, and her eyes. Plus, I couldn't seem to have her, while I couldn't seem to have the stars either. I was opposite to them; but that was fine; I wouldn't let it keep me from her anyways.
I shook my head for Leddy. Then she leaned forward—out of all the things she'd said plainly, she leaned forward for this, to whisper it into my ear. "It's the darkness which makes the stars shine brightest, Master Prince. Without it, they cannot shine at all."
ELLIA:
I'd just left from the meeting with the Warriors. Lucian and Estrid had been headed to check on the chimera again, before saying their goodbyes for the night. I was set to spend mine, in one of those rooms of the palace just near the royal quarters, where Selkie's attendants, and some of the other female Warriors slept. We'd been staying there altogether, since there was so little spare room. It wasn't worth it to me now, to trade the place, for only one night—even though there was empty room elsewhere. Though it was still bright silver to the sky, I was headed up steps to reach it. I thought that I would see to Selkie, if Nain had left already. I thought I might spend time alone, on my bed, holding my figurine. But I realized, only after the stairs had ended, and then walking down a wooden hall, and then turning to see a figure all in black standing in front of a window, that I hadn't gone to my room at all. In fact, I was rather on the absolutely wrong side of the palace, in one of those rooms, that had been stuffed with beds, and bed rolls. Where men had slept, altogether and the furniture had all been cleared out from the center. There were none of them left now, except one. There was a bed close to him, blankets pulled back, as if he'd tried to rest at least. His fingers, were moving around together at his side, as if he were fiddling with something he was holding onto, only his hand was empty. He wasn't looking my way; he stared out the window, which was half his height, and arched, and letting in the only light for the room, grey and damp light.
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