by Gwynn White
“And yet, you played with my shoes.”
Dothylian blushed slightly and smiled into her lap. “They’re oddly shaped and so large. I just wanted to try them. Are you upset with me?”
“Do you care?”
“I do…”
“But you didn’t with your other tutors.”
“No, stupid old cows and smelly Qar fish, every one of them.”
Edqqin laughed. A robust loud sound and he made no effort to cover his mouth or fake a cough to hide the explosion of emotion that came from him.
“I believe we’ll get along quite well,” he finally said.
Dothylian smiled broadly and looked up into his eyes, tracing the deep wrinkles etched around his eyes, but seeing the clarity of youth in his gaze.
“I only have one rule,” he continued. “No matter what we discuss or investigate during your education, you are never to tell anyone. The rest must think we are following the standard curriculum and that you are simply finally compliant thanks to the miraculous talents of a master educator.”
“But we aren’t doing that, are we?” Dothylian’s smile faded.
“We must at first. But I believe we’ll be done with the entirety of what you are supposed to learn by the time you are twelve within weeks. Then we can have fun until it’s time to bog down and learn rote quotes again. All of that you’ll master quickly. Now, show me what resources you used to do your research on respiration rates.”
Dothylian bounced from the settee to the desk and retrieved her vidscreen, ready to dive in where no one else had dared let her swim before.
Together, Dothylian and Edqqin had studied such a myriad of topics; she’d eventually surpassed even him in her academic education. But she knew nothing of the real world. Her sister, Odelle introduced her to friends and as she got older arranged dates for her. She even dragged Dothylian to a party or two over the years, and while she could play the part, she longed for her hours alone with Edqqin and her books.
Her favorite times were running mathematical equations. She would recite the roots, expand on fractal equations, even recite Fibonacci Numbers to heights so high her head would spin, and she’d enter a kind of trance. That was where she felt the freest, the most able to understand not just the math, but the entire world. But there was no use for such a skill, and any hopes she’d had of either evading marriage or marrying someone who would encourage her curiosity had gone out the window the evening Madame Memta arrived at her family’s apartments.
No amount of introspective calculating would change the fact that she was to marry into the Zervek family and that she would likely die before she was able to complete the task Madame Memta had assigned her. But Kadira Saaqqaf had offered an unexpected opportunity.
Dothylian sat in contemplation for a long moment. First, she recalled Kadira’s words and played them over, then she soothed her nerves by running equations in her mind. She ran through the Fibonacci numbers, but when it didn’t calm her, she began running harmonic frequency equations. She lost herself in the soothing hum of her mind working on a pattern, a system. In the background, her thoughts were free to synthesize everything Kadira told her and come to a decision.
As conflicted as she felt about the woman, she had no one else to talk to and no other options of avoiding her fate. To get the device Kadira had given her onto her intended’s pillow, she would still need to be alone with Wilmur and consummate their relationship. Something she was not looking forward to, but weighing one night against a lifetime with a man she knew would one day kill her made the choice easier. The only smart thing to do was to perform as Kadira had planned, no matter the consequences.
2
Dothylian arrived at the Zervek family estate by private transport. No guards attended her as she traveled directly from her family’s apartments to the floating enclave the Zervek’s controlled. The terraformed platform opened before her into a wide-open space, well-manicured with small croppings of exotic flowers.
Madame Memta, the match maker who arranged this engagement, stood before her in her red cloak and fire colored hair with a cross look on her face and pursed red lips. “You are late.”
Dothylian stood straighter, letting the black tunic she chose to wear to meet her fiancé emphasize her height. “I am not. I am totally lacking control over the timing of my arrival. I boarded the transport you provided and was brought directly here.”
Madame Memta smirked almost imperceptibly and then reached out for Dothylian’s arm. “Nonetheless, it is for you to make a proper impression. Don’t forget why you are here tonight.”
Together, they walked through the garden along a paved path that must have cost more than most people made in a year. Even here on Q’ian’Set, the Zervek’s wealth was impressive. The compound was tethered to one of the city’s larger mobile neighborhoods, allowing it to float free just above the rest of the city. Such extravagance was unheard of, especially for a home the Zervek’s used only a few times a Terran year.
A servant arrived to greet the women, and Madame Memta’s nails dug deeper into Dothylian’s arm. She had to wonder who was more nervous, her or the old bitty who had arranged this flesh trade.
The servant wore a green tunic and brown pants with no decoration or familial blades. He bowed quickly and addressed the women without making eye contact. “Madame and Lady, I would escort you to the main chamber where Madame Zervek will receive you.”
Madame Memta’s fingers flexed. “This was arranged to be an informal meeting of Master Zervek and Dothylian, not a formal negotiation.”
The servant paled and nodded too quickly for Dothylian’s taste. Something was amiss. “Of course, Madame. She simply wishes to meet the girl before the young couple…begins.”
A bead of sweat tickled the hairline of Dothylian’s neck. Begins It sounded so ominous. She curled her toes in her shoes, tightening them against her feet to keep her body from shaking as she counted by squared prime numbers in her head. After a moment, which for her stretched like a never-ending fractal into infinity, she bowed to the servant. “Thank you for your kind reception. I look forward to meeting both Master Zervek and his mother.”
The servant’s color returned, and he flicked his eyes up to meet hers for a risky but sincere show of thanks. “This way then.”
Madame Memta’s nails continued to dig into Dothylian’s arm as they walked. It was as if the woman were afraid Dothylian would run off and jump from the edge of the compound into the sea. Dothylian was made of sterner stuff than that, and with the item,Kadira had given her tucked discreetly in her bodice, she felt more empowered than ever. The Zervek family line would die.Tonight.And she was the one who would deliver the killing blow.
Her black tunic swayed slightly in the wind, opening the front to reveal the black and silver laced bodice and black pants she wore. Her knives had been replaced with bejeweled garters. No bride would enter the marriage chamber armed. Even if this was only the preliminaries, Dothylian had opted on the side of vulnerability and deference to the Zervek family’s higher status. She hoped this would soften whatever awaited her with Wilmur, but from what she had heard from the brothel gossip and servant whispers, there was no soft side to WilmurZervek.
The trio turned and entered the grand foyer of the Zervek’s main building. The ground inside was no longer paved, but instead, some kind of thick transparent plasteel which revealed the distance below to the nearest neighborhood and beyond to the sea. Dothylian’s dinner rose in her stomach, and her step faltered.
For the first time, she was thankful for Madame Memta’s death grip on her arm as it kept her upright as vertigo and fear spun in her head. The room was expansive, so much larger than it had appeared from outside.The building itself felt like a tesseract where space continued to flow despite any physical constraints.
Dothylian began calculating theoretical Tesseract Computations in her mind. She wanted to sit down, close her eyes, and lose herself in the math. She wanted Edqqin. She wanted someone to s
ave her. She wasn’t supposed to be the strong one. That had been Odelle. She was supposed to be the odd one, the daughter her parents wondered what to do with, whose fertility secured her an acceptable but middling marriage where she would be, if not happy, at least left alone.
But Kadira had to come into their lives and ruined everything. Even if it wasn’t her fault, Dothylian couldn’t help but blame the woman for Odelle’s death and now her own predicament.
“Pull yourself together, girl,” Madame Memna hissed through her teeth. Her expression didn’t change, but the slight shake of Dothylian’s arm told her that she had begun to slip away into her mind and she needed to stay focused.
They approached a small woman draped in lengths of teal silk richly embroidered with golden jewels. Her dark hair was swept up into a tight chignon which was so out of fashion as to appear elegant. One diamond gem was pinned in her hair where the coil of her hair came together, giving her the appearance of wearing a crown or halo.
“Madame Zervek.” Madame Memta bowed and pulled the bewitched Dothylian down with her.
When they rose, Dothylian regained her composure and stepped forward after a small shove from Madame Memta. “Mother Zervek, thank you for taking the time to greet me this evening. I am delighted to—”
“That is quite enough.” The elegant matriarch interrupted.
Dothylian glanced up at her face, as smooth and clear as her own. This woman had birthed two grown sons and didn’t look a day older than Dothylian, but her dress, hair, and manner all spoke of wealth and the kind of power that only comes with age.
“I have no interest in listening to another one of my sons’ women blather on about honor and love. Please, simply remove your clothing.”
“Excuse me?” Dothylian stuttered, unable to believe what she had heard.
“You were purchased solely on the likelihood of your ability to bear children to my son quickly. Take off your clothing and let me see how you’ve been enhanced to ensure safe childbirth and weight bearing.”
Dothylian took a step back and looked at Madame Memta who only narrowed her eyes and gave a slight nod.
“Madame, I agreed to meet with Wilmur in good faith, as his future wife. I did not agree to be scrutinized or manhandled like some terran whore. My clothes will remain on until I deem it time to remove them.”
Madame Memta’s face puckered so tightly Dothylian worried it might split from her hairline.
“Child,” Madam Zervek began, “any contracts your family has entered into in your name have been negotiated by me and will continue to be negotiated by me for the remainder of your time with this family. This is how things are done. You would be best served to understand and accept that aspect of your current situation sooner rather than later. Now, remove your clothing here, or I will call the guards to come and remove them for you. Something I am sure they will enjoy immensely more than you.”
The threat hung in the air between the three women like a cobra weaving back and forth before striking.
Madame Memta’s fingers curled up almost into fists.
Dothylian stared at the wall behind Madame Zervek’s head. She barely blinked, stilling her mind and letting the seconds compile until they overflowed into minutes.
Madame Zervek held up her left hand but before she could speak, a deep voice rang out through the chamber.
“Mother, why did you not tell me my bride to be had arrived?” Wilmur glided into the room like a fisherman on an ooze farm collecting Klathian eggs.
Madame Zervek’s spine curled slightly forward, and the woman’s arrogance and majesty faded away the closer her son came. She seemed to disappear in his presence, like a fog that had gathered into an illustrious storm only to be blown away by a small breeze.
“Wilmur, I was welcoming my new daughter for a moment before hailing you. Trevess would have come to gather you soon.” She nodded to the servant who stood silently a few feet away.
“Of course,” Wilmur smirked, but his eyes showed no sign of mirth. He turned to Dothylian and bowed, his movements fluid and smooth. “Welcome to your new home.” He stood and held out a hand.
Dothylian hesitated for just a moment, her eyes darting toward Madame Zervek who despite her now demure posturing had to be seething underneath.
“Thank you, Master Zervek.” Dothylian stepped forward, careful not to stop between mother and son but back a pace.
“Please, call me Wilmur as I shall call you Dothylian. We have much to learn about each other. Things will only be stalled if we begin on such formal footing.”
“Of course, Wilmur. As ever you please.” Dothylian smiled and willed the happiness she forced into her face to reach her eyes as she took Wilmur’s hand. “I so look forward to our mutual adventure.”
Wilmur tilted his head and studied her. She hadn’t said anything wrong, but she had carefully avoided using words like happiness or life. His mind was sharp, she was going to have to be very careful indeed.
3
Wilmur led Dothylian away from the two old hags who had arranged this union. His servant Trevess trailed behind a few feet. Far enough away as to not impose but close enough he could hear every word the couple exchanged. Such was the job of a servant, always diligent and available to meet needs barely spoken but never in the way. This also made servants excellent sources of gossip and information and Dothylian needed to be sure that the only news that leaked about her was that she was sincere in her willingness to join with Wilmur.
“Have you lived in Q’ian’Set your whole life?” Wilmur asked cordially as he led her through the cavernous halls of the main house. The walls were mostly bare, but occasional family portraits or heirlooms would catch Dothylian’s attention.
She was careful not to seem overly interested or impressed. “Yes, although I studied for a short time on Set’ar Jump Station.”
“That’s not part of the typical education regime. Did you have an interest in a particular field?”
Dothylian shook her head slightly and made sure to lower her eyes to keep from betraying just how much she had an interest in. “No, my tutor was… unconventional. My parents indulged his desire to take me aboard the station to see the mathematics we had studied at work, but it was really a practical exercise.”
She left out how she had felt sitting in front of one of the expansive windows that cleared even her peripheral vision, leaving her with the feeling that she was floating out in space itself. She didn’t mention how in those moments her mind would twist and turn in ways not even Edqqin could explain. The movement of the universe, the physics of the stars, all made perfect sense to her with the kind of clarity that comes with absolute understanding.By the end of their trip, her science and math capabilities overshadowed Edqqin’s, but there was no one else to teach her who they could trust with her secret.
Their secret.
“It seems a waste to send such beauty to sit up on a metal rock in the sky when there is a world all around you more suited to your station.” Wilmur stopped before a large wooden door and bowed slightly to her. The wood in the door was a statement of such wealth it would never be seen aboard a station.
Trevess scurried forward and opened the heavy door, pushing it inward to reveal a dark hall lit with floating illumibots. The flickering lights from the illumibots flit around as the flew toward Wilmur. As soon as they entered the hall, Trevess closed the door behind them.
What have I gotten into, Dothylian thought. She was in over her head in more ways than one. Social manipulation and etiquette status play was something she had never been good at, but adding in a level of real life and death danger by playing with someone like Wilmur terrified her. The device hidden in her bodice chaffed, reminding her of what she was about to do and how if she were discovered, Wilmur would be justified in having her executed.
“My rooms are further out on the compound.” Wilmur began walking, and the illumibots buzzed through the air, keeping pace with his movements.
Dothylian would h
ave to keep up or be left behind.
“I prefer the darkness of the tunnels to walking above ground. You, of course, will be welcome to wander the compound as you please when we are visiting Q’ian’Set, but we will need to discuss when you leave and with whom you meet. Such as last night. It’s not proper to a lady to visit the market alone.”
Dothylian’s blood slowed, and her mind became confused. She missed a step, and soon Wilmur and the light was well ahead of her. She rushed as much as she dared to catch up but did not reply to his question.
“Answer me!” Wilmur roared.
“Yes, Kadira was a friend of my sister’s.”
Wilmur snapped, and the illumibots all went dark, plunging them into a pitch black well. It wasn’t simply dark, this was a complete absence of light, and without anything to touch like a wall or chair, Dothylian’s sense-of-self began to dissipate into that darkness the longer Wilmur went without speaking. But she knew better than to speak first. A sign of weakness so early in their relationship would color every exchange they had from then on.
So Dothylian did what she did best. She multiplied rational and irrational numbers out into squares, building block by block within her mind so that the lack of purchase she found in the real world didn’t bother her because the numbers were solid and real.
“The black doesn’t bother you?”
Dothylian didn’t respond right away wanting to finish the equation in her mind and not give him the impression she was as desperate for the lights to return as she really was. “Only in relation to what the light illuminates. Darkness can sometimes reveal many things we would not otherwise see.”
Wilmur snapped, and the illumibots turned back on, buzzing around his head.His smile was no longer kind and genial, but cruel. “You think you are quite clever, do you not? Adventuring to the Set’ar Station, conspiring with the likes of Kadira Saaqqaf, playing games you cannot possibly win.”
Dothylian kept her eyes lowered and clenched her toes again to keep from gritting her teeth. “I play no games.”