The Diplomat

by French, Sophia

  “Traitors.” Betany glared at the gathered onlookers. “Enjoy your little coup while it lasts. When you run this empire into the ground, the people will beg for me to take control. I am the rightful Empress, and when I finally come to rule I will seat your skulls at the base of my throne.”

  “But for now, you’ll run to your room and throw a tantrum,” said Rema. “Begone, Betany. Retreat with what little dignity you have remaining.”

  Betany lunged toward Rema, her face compressed with rage. Elise stepped between them, and Betany recoiled. “Keep away from me. You’re not human.”

  Elise leaned forward, her hands on her hips. “Behave yourself. You know what happens to people who displease me.”

  Betany screeched in frustration and stalked from the court. Haran moved to follow her, but Ferruro caught him by the sleeve. “You can’t be serious. Let it go, you old fool.”

  Haran stared after her, looking more pinched than ever. “Call me what you will, but she could have ruled. At least it would have been legal.”

  They all turned to stare once more at the burning school. The fire had now reached the first floor, and its fingers curled about the window frames, searching hungrily for more fuel to devour. Smoke spilled from the door, black and sinuous. “I hope you’re able to contain this,” Rema said.

  Artunos gestured to the phalanx of silver and gold guards. They were holding buckets to their chests as they scrutinized the building with vigilant eyes. “We won’t let it spread past the court. We’re hoping that it’ll burn itself out inside the building. I am sorry about your school, though.”

  “It can be rebuilt. Let this be the last good thing destroyed by Togun’s children.”

  Artunos nodded. “Go to Jalaya. She’s in her chambers with a healer. She’ll want to see you both.”

  “Thank you,” said Rema. “All of you.” Sothis bowed, and Ferruro gave her a knowing smile. Haran turned away, his gaunt face grim.

  The palace’s corridors were flooded with wandering people, all caught in a frenzy of fear and excitement. No doubt the rumor of Ormun’s death was gathering momentum. The new council would have to act soon to maintain order, but for now Rema had other matters on her mind.

  “Look,” said Elise, tugging Rema’s hand. “There’s Muhan.” He was sitting on a bench in the corridor, his masked head lowered. Rema lifted the mask away to reveal his sleeping face. He rubbed his eyes and smiled.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve just slept through?” said Rema.

  “I understand nothing in this house of madness.” Muhan stretched his arms. “So I decided to rest until somebody came to educate me. You two look bedraggled but happy, so I assume everything is well. Did you find that dear little woman?”

  “Yes, she’s fine, and you won’t be needing the mask from now on.”

  Muhan turned the mask in his hands. “A pity. I was becoming fond of it. So I take it that my performance is canceled?”

  “Certainly not. You’ll perform later this week to celebrate the change of regime. In the meanwhile, you’ll get one of the finest chambers in the palace and all the grapefruit you can eat.”

  “Ah. I thought you’d woken me, but alas, here I am, still in a dream.”

  “I know how you feel,” said Elise. “Come on, Rema, we can talk to silly Muhan later.”

  “Fine.” Rema laughed as she clasped her hands. “Take care, Muhan.”

  They left Muhan tugging his mustache in confusion and continued to Jalaya’s chambers. Jalaya was sprawled among her innumerable blankets and pillows while a wrinkled man stooped at her side, patting her face with a cloth. She raised her eyes as Rema and Elise entered.

  “You’re alive,” she said, her voice husky. “I was worried.”

  Rema took her hand. “Here we are again. You can’t imagine how sorry I am. Of all the people to keep being hurt on my account, why does it have to be you?”

  “Well, I did promise to die for you. Fate is just determined to have me keep that promise.” Jalaya winced. “Oh, my throat hurts.”

  “There may be harm to her singing voice,” said the old healer. “Alas, she inhaled much heat and smoke.”

  Elise growled. “There’ll be no harm if I have anything to do with it. Did you give her a mixture of honey and lemon to drink?”

  “Well, no.” The healer bit his lower lip. “Should I have?”

  “You call yourself a healer?” Elise stamped her foot. “You abomination! Get honey and lemon for her right now!”

  With a shriek, the healer dived toward the door, holding his robes tightly about him. “Hopeless,” said Elise, her eyes scalding with temper. “Don’t worry, Jalaya. You’ll soon be singing more prettily than ever.”

  “Something has happened, hasn’t it?” said Jalaya. “Tell me.”

  “Ormun is dead,” said Rema. “Betany has been refused the throne. We’re going to take control now, we officials of the court, and our first action will be to return Ormun’s wives to their families.”

  “All but one,” said Elise. “Let’s get married, Rema.”

  Rema laughed and tangled a length of Elise’s hair about her fingers. “Why not? It seems fitting that the first female diplomat and the first self-taught enchantress become the first married women in the Empire.”

  “I mean it. I’m proposing to you, Remela. Don’t make me get on my knee.”

  “And I’m accepting. I’ll marry you, Elise Danarian.”

  Jalaya clapped her hands and tossed a pillow into the air. “I’d cheer, but I’d hurt myself. Congratulations, you lovely things. I hope my voice comes back in time to sing at your wedding.” She sank back to her bed, clearly exhausted by the short display of delight. “Rema, you’re free now. Ormun’s shadow has left you. You can grieve for him instead of hating him.”

  Rema nodded. “I want to think that the fire burned away the mad part of him, so that in whatever place the dead go, he’ll be the gentle young man that I knew.”

  “He will be,” said Elise. “The man he became is lost without redemption, but the boy he once was will remain innocent. Nature does not judge, but instead receives what is healthy and pure.”

  “You’re a strange one, Elsie,” said Jalaya. “I’ll miss you both. After you’re married, I’ve decided to leave the court.” She laughed as Rema and Elise both hurried to her bedside, protesting and clutching at her. “Get off me, you brutes! There’s no other way. Rema, I still love you, and Elsie, you’re so much like her that my heart is dangerously close to falling for you too. I need to give you two space to grow together.” She winked at Elise. “Besides, I know I’m a wicked temptation.”

  “You’re not wrong,” said Elise. “But this is cruel. I can imagine many lonely days while Rema is scratching at her paperwork, and what will I do without your company?”

  Rema stared. It was as if her joy had been stolen from her, leaving her numb. “Jalaya, you can’t. You don’t understand how much you mean to me. We’ve seen through so many unhappy years together, don’t you want to share the happy ones to come?”

  Jalaya shook her head, jangling her earrings. “I have to leave for my own sake. Elsie was able to reach you in a way I never could, and I’ll never rest until I understand why. Love is my mystery, and I have to seek it beyond these palace walls. There is a secret written in the eyes and lips of a woman who needs me, and when I find her I will croon a song of love that will wind its way through the heart of the world.”

  “All you poets are alike. I wanted us to grow old together.”

  “We will. Every day I’ll think of you, and you need only do the same.”

  “You’ve been such a comfort.” Elise wiped her eyes. “Don’t you understand that I’ve never had a friend before you? Not a lover, not a brother, but a friend…”

  “I’ve made up my mind. You two need to be together, and I need to sleep. I love you both.”

  “Rest well,” said Elise, lowering her head. Rema was too heavy with emotion to reply. Tears blurred her vis
ion, and she blinked them away.

  They left the chamber together, hand in hand, wandering without direction through the palace. As they passed beneath the wide archway of the inner court, they paused for a moment to stare at the chaos taking place within. It seemed that all the entertainers and officials of the court had gathered to laugh and gossip, their faces animated. Calicio walked among the groups, nodding his head as he responded to questions. He spotted Rema standing in the archway and lifted his hand. She raised hers in reply.

  “Where do we go?” Elise said. “I’m so tired, Rema.”

  “As am I. Let’s go to the gardens.”

  It was early evening. As they entered the gardens, a warm breeze set the trees swaying, sending fragrant petals loose to the wind. The women linked arms, and Elise rested her head on Rema’s shoulder as they followed the path beneath the brightly-colored canopy. Fat parrots bared their plumage to the setting sun and crooned as its last warmth touched them, while slender-beaked birds pounced among the lower branches, their heads turning to watch the lovers pass by. The air resonated with the calling of the waterfall, the cackling of animals in the distant menagerie, the hissing of wind-rustled leaves and the clamor of birds at play.

  Rema led Elise off the path and toward a dense knot of pink-and lilac-flowered trees. They sat in the tall grass, and Elise laughed as a dragonfly settled briefly on Rema’s head before whirring into the sky. “I just realized that you’ve lost your adorable little hat,” she said.

  “I hadn’t even noticed. I hope it’s content, wherever it is.”

  “Most likely it fell off and burned. Poor hat.”

  They watched as evening took shape on the horizon, a deep purple streak above the waning flame of the sun. Rema’s eyes itched and her lungs ached, yet as she sat amid the murmuring insects and the aromatic petals, her discomfort was eclipsed by her bliss. She gazed at Elise, who smiled back. Though her eyes were reddened and her lashes were dried with tears, her silver gaze was clear.

  “Here we are at last,” said Rema, her fingertips following the rounded curve of Elise’s cheek.

  “Just as you promised.” Elise put her arms around Rema and lowered her into the grass.

  Many years before, a little girl played at her father’s feet while he sat, wreathed in incense, and drifted through a poet’s dreams. He knew that the world was good and prayed that his daughter would know it too, so that like him she would hope for hopeless things. So often he had asked her, Remmy, what makes you happy? As she lay beneath the fading sun, gazing into the enchanted eyes of the woman she loved, Rema found her answer.

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