by R. Cooper
Larin had to have noticed Taji’s tension, but for once, left it alone.
“Perhaps I was wrong,” Larin said, angling his body away from Taji. “Perhaps the I.P.T.C. and the humans with them will belong here in time, if they are taught how. They have strange ideas, but some of them are interesting. Do you agree, Rinnah?”
“Some of them are,” Rinnah agreed with no inflection in her voice whatsoever. Taji shook his head, waiting for either a real agreement or at least an argument, but there was none. He looked over, at her, at the people behind her and the Imperial Guards by the doors, and then at her again.
To be Sha and noble was to be smart and politic but not to hide. If Rinnah disagreed, she should say so, even if it was diplomatically. If she agreed, she’d made no effort to sound enthusiastic or even interested.
She stared at Taji. A glance, there and gone. “Some of them have ideas I do not fully understand.”
“Really?” Larin seemed to want everyone on the entire floor to hear. “What ideas can my clever, dangerous sister not understand?”
Rinnah lifted her head. “Words which do not translate from one culture to another, Larin Emperor.”
Larin held out his cup for a servant to take and then waved vaguely at Rinnah. “You two will have so much to speak of. Someday. Taji…” Larin stopped. Taji went stiff, then slowly turned to look at him again. “Taji, you are not drinking. Have you ever had rithmi water before? With this, I cannot blame the hurat. How would he know? The cost is high. Rithmi is the bark of a tree that grows across the sea, only harvested at certain times of the year. But here you will find plenty.”
He had three shehzha in residence, and now Taji. Naturally, he’d carry the flavoring they favored. He probably thought it demonstrated his generosity. Like Taji’s presence here, word of Larin’s grace and strength were supposed to leave this room and reach the corners of his faded empire.
Taji wondered if Larin knew how people actually spoke of him and his shehzha. The Civil Guard might have passed the talk along, but then again, no one seemed eager to tell Larin the truth. Regular Shavians regarding the emperor as a pervert or an abuser or a hedonist who was out of control was unpleasant if not treasonous. Although to Larin, it might not matter since so many of the noble class seemed willing to allow it.
“Even the rithmi will not cheer him,” Larin complained. “The longing distracts you, as also your loss must. Should I speak of it?” Larin continued to ask questions as though Taji could answer and answer honestly. It was horrible and yet undoubtedly more polite than what Nadir had been given, and less brutal than anything Larin would have done to Trenne.
Taji wanted to throw the rithmi in his face. For a few seconds, it would be glorious, Larin Emperor brought low and humiliated by a human shehzha. Then, Taji imagined, the pain would begin.
Larin was waiting for an answer, and, lacking a voice or any desire to give Larin what he seemed to want, Taji shrugged. An offworld gesture would have to do unless Larin removed Taji’s restraints.
Showing no sign that he understood shrugs or fatalism, Larin turned to Rinnah for mediation. “He does not feel well. No matter what happens around them, a shehzha’s thoughts are elsewhere. And true shehzha in a moment like this one? No control to begin with, the stars in his eyes. Tricked into giving those lights to a failure of an eshe. Do you know, little Taji, this reminds me of someone.”
Larin directed a look over Taji’s head, then gestured gracefully with some silent command. Taji didn’t turn to see who it was for and didn’t hear anyone leave. But servants and Guards made no noise on their bare feet.
Larin returned his attention to Taji. “Were you like that with your…with your Trenne?” He pronounced the name gently and Taji parted his lips in surprise. “You are so vulnerable, with all of your honor on display and nothing kept to yourself. How did he do it? Did he give you words like ‘tree gift’?” The breath left Taji in a rush. Larin watched Taji closely. “Did he offer sticky treats to convince you to hand yourself over? Did he call you sehni or iti or yet’ta?” He paused when Taji gave a start. “Did he tell you it was merely a pretty creature?”
Trenne hadn’t had to tell him that. Taji had seen the murals. All Trenne had done was tell Taji the stories he did know. He had only used yet’ta as a petname to help Taji overcome fear.
Larin was too sharp. “You are no innocent creature, Taji of the I.P.T.C.,” he announced, gaze sweeping Taj’s face. “No yet’ta. What did he really call you?”
For the first time, Taji was grateful he couldn’t answer. He closed his mouth tight anyway and stared back until the memory of Trenne calling him peha had him flushed and hot again. He lowered his gaze.
Larin didn’t look away and didn’t speak while he watched Taji deal with his arousal. He should have. But he had no honor.
Taji clenched his jaw and tried not let his lower lip tremble.
“Larin,” Rinnah’s quiet voice cut between them, growing slightly louder with what might have been agitation, “did you order Talfa here?”
“Ah, Talfa,” Larin nearly sighed the name. Taji twisted around until Talfa’s tall form was in sight.
Koel Talfa’s hands and arms were cuffed in two places in front of them, and they wore the soria Taji had last seen them in, although now it was stained purple at the chest and brown with dirt at the bottom.
Talfa managed more composure than Taji despite facing an audience of people they would have known or known of since childhood, but they still showed shock when they saw Taji. Talfa swept a startled, then furious look over Taji, then exhaled and averted their gaze.
The Guards at Talfa’s back stayed close, but stopped when Talfa did, at the edge of Larin’s tea party. As far as Taji could tell, Talfa did not look at the bloodstains. Of course, Talfa would have expected them.
“Most colorful Talfa,” Larin greeted, practically glowing with pleasure. “Your loss is great. I have things to discuss with you, but, for the moment, I thought you might keep Rinnah company. She is lonely, so far from her home. Laviias, as it stands, is no place for her.”
Talfa looked to Rinnah, who nearly managed a blank expression but ruined it with one ear twitch.
Larin went on when Talfa didn’t move or speak. “I thought you would want distraction from your troubles. But if you prefer to be elsewhere? With someone in particular?”
“I am always happy to see Olea Rinnah,” Talfa answered smoothly, if quickly. Because Larin had just all but said that Talfa could have stayed with Nadir. Someone must have listened in, or the cells might have been under surveillance, which was wicked and practical. Have dungeons to scare political enemies and make them feel vulnerable, then listen to them talk when they believe they are alone.
Taji had been muted, but that was about public humiliation, not secrets. He wasn’t dangerous and didn’t know anything valuable. Unlike Nadir, who was now alone. Abandoned in a hostile country on a strange planet, left in a cell to die.
Talfa waited another moment, a show of pride, but then obediently sat on a cushion not far from Rinnah. Servants appeared to pour a cup of what Taji thought was midye, but Talfa couldn’t have lifted it with his arms bound so tightly.
As satisfied as a bunto player with all his columns filled, Larin turned to Taji. “You understand,” he said softly, leaving Taji to blink in confusion. All Taji understood was that Talfa had been allowed to live but that could change at any time. If that message was intended for their audience or Taji, Taji couldn’t say. The once-mighty Koel family was in hiding or in ruins, with only Talfa—the embarrassment—left to represent them. Maybe that’s why Talfa was with Rinnah. They were demonstrations of Larin’s power and his compassion, such as it was.
Taji glanced toward the crowd, noting all the ears angled in their direction. Larin was still proving he was a suitable emperor.
Taji frowned at the realization and looked at the assembled nobles again, although he didn’t know enough of the families to guess at whose opinion mattered
the most, or what would impress them more—kindness or cruelty. Possibly some unknown combination of the two.
Larin had done something decisive in Laviias, but short of taking the fight to every home district of every noble family, he had to stay in the capital and wait to see what the families would do, while showing himself to be a capable emperor. This wasn’t entirely gloating.
Taji faced Larin, then slowly and deliberately inclined his head to show that he did understand.
“The pleasure of a shehzha is not only the gift of their body, but the warmth of their company. It is regretful that it cannot last.” Larin’s gaze was steady. “But if the bond is there, something should remain. Loyalty and quiet devotion. Not the obscenity of your offworld vidded stories—an emotion deep within. A bond that should not fade even when the pangs of the longing vanish.”
Elii had feelings for Larin already, if that was what Larin was talking about. But Larin didn’t love him, or whatever Shavians felt for each other. Elii, who was likely somewhere nearby. Elii, who could probably hear this. Perhaps the others too. Larin, seated by this table for some time now, made no move to go to them, though they must be suffering.
“Worry and disapproval now? Is that what I see on your face? Or are you not well, little Taji? Let me know what you need and it will be provided. Dahle has prepared rooms to honor you. No human will have ever slept so near the emperor.”
Taji’s chest constricted, the last of his air wheezing out of him before he told himself to breathe. He looked down, then forced himself to lift his cup and take a drink, to swallow.
Larin’s eyes stayed sharp on him. “Despite your bold words, recent events have upset you.” Taji’s visible fear did not even make Larin pause, although his tone was gentle. “Your safety will be assured if you are close to me. You will know that, soon.”
Taji met his stare for one moment before making himself have another drink, cooling and soothing and yet not enough, not what his body needed.
“I know what you think,” Larin confided, watching Taji wet his lips and hold out his cup for more rithmi water. “It is wrong. But you do not know better yet. Your view is as incorrect as I am sure those vids are. I will show you honor.” He raised his voice ever so slightly. “But not yet. You are not ready.”
Taji was breathing too fast but didn’t even try to control it. He set the cup down roughly so he could reach up to hit the device at his neck.
“You ask for gifts already?” Larin asked, surprised, then as pleased as if Taji had begged out loud. “Ah, the greed of a shehzha. How small and sweet you look. The hurat must have felt powerful to have you ask in such a way. A game, you said they had, Rinnah? He begs and the hurat answers? Even an emperor might envy that. If you ask me as you asked him, I might remove the alay for you.”
Taji curled his fingers against the device but didn’t pull on it, not with the needles still in his skin. He slowly lowered his trembling hands. He didn’t know the word alay and didn’t think he needed to.
“Alay are useful, although a toy to many. That one is distressingly plain. You should have one better, but it seems to work very well as it is. The Guards who found you for me did not need to be bothered with your words and thoughts, little Taji.”
Taji went momentarily still.
“You are not meant for them,” Larin explained. “The things you say are not to be shared with common Guards or anyone else.”
The language of possessiveness was particular and, it seemed, not foreign to the Sha.
Taji raised his eyes.
Larin looked back at him, then closed his mouth before turning away. “Talfa,” he began after a pause that Taji only noticed because he was listening so intently, “you will be happy to know Elii is well. My taffi came from Laviias with me, unharmed.”
Taji should have looked at Talfa for their reaction, but he couldn’t. His focus was solely on Larin, which was what Larin wanted.
“But Sio has begun to pull away. It is sad when a shehzha’s time is done, but I am sure Sio wishes to return to the home of the Whenn.” Larin finally granted Taji his attention again. “The Whenn are descended from a general—not as old as many families, but few were present at Laviias, and they fared well. There are some here, now. Although, the capital seems so empty. It is good to have some of the other families close, eh, Talfa? And it will help me find another to take Sio’s place.”
Nothing as uncontrolled as a ripple went through the assembled nobles, but the air was charged at that pronouncement.
Larin gave Taji a fond look before gesturing lightly in Talfa’s direction. Taji looked anxiously at Talfa, too.
The shehzha bond could happen through repeated contact. It was, after all, chemistry. But without initial happy feelings to be amplified, it wasn’t as strong and it didn’t last as long.
It would last long enough, however, to leave Talfa humiliated, and as violated as Elii had been by that public display. That was everything Talfa did not want, and Larin possibly knew that. Talfa wouldn’t have wanted that even if Larin had come to him with perfumes or courting knives or meat from a hunt and if Talfa hadn’t been mourning some of their family.
Talfa might choose to accept it to live, or to save some of the other Koel, but that wasn’t really a choice, and Larin could not be trusted.
Taji swept a scathing look over the silent nobles around them. If Larin wanted him to react, if that was the point of this, then Taji would. He gave Rinnah a separate glare of disgust, then turned away from all of them, staring pointedly at the bloodied ground.
Nadir had more honor than any of them. Talfa, with no hope, had still offered protection, had still believed in shehzha and honor. Rinnah was quiet. Larin was supposed to be a symbolic figure of control and care for the nobles and through them, the people. If no one was going to oppose him, then the Sha were exposed for what they truly were, and it had nothing to do with honor.
“Do you disapprove, little Taji?” Larin made a small noise of displeasure. “Is it my choice, or is it the number which bothers you? Is that a human response, or are you the sort of shehzha who demands too much attention to share? Would you want your eshe all to yourself?”
Mos would have insisted that they should not speak of what occurred between a shehzha and an eshe. But Mos was probably dead or being tortured. Taji was alone.
He reached up to touch the alay again. He didn’t know what sort of shehzha he was. Lonely and human and in love with Trenne. That was all that made him different. Not anything else.
“You used your hurat as a cushion,” Larin argued mildly, almost amused. “You did it without hesitation. You will be shehzha again, selfish and greedy. I should warn you others will not be so easy, no matter how sweetly you give.”
Taji swallowed but kept his gaze up and his hands on the alay.
“Such loyalty!” Larin remarked, perhaps to the room. “Those eyes spark with defense of him. The hurat—who left you, little human from beyond the rings. Will you defend him when he is all you can think of, and you are alone? You do not know honor.”
Taji snorted. The sound was inelegant and blunt but also very human. He doubted Larin would understand it. Nonetheless, he reached for his cup of water and drank as though he’d had something caught in his throat.
Rinnah saved him from anything Larin might have said in response. “He cannot know, Larin. He has not been here long enough. He still learns the words.”
Larin turned slowly toward his sister. “Do you know it, Rinnah? You indulged the Inri and where are you now?”
She was at her brother’s side. Or she wasn’t. Larin’s question grew more terrifying the longer Rinnah went without answering.
Larin waited, then shifted back to face Taji. “I will show him. He will learn what it really is—when he is ready.”
Taji met his eye, then couldn’t help looking away so Larin wouldn’t see his face. Rinnah briefly drew his attention, and then the moving gray-clad figure behind her. Taji turned, remembering all over
again his Imperial Guard shadow. They noticed him looking but didn’t make eye contact. Taji moved his stare to the nobles. Perhaps it was his directness this time, or his anger, but more gazes suddenly darted from him.
He inhaled softly. The rules about shehzha were still in play, to a degree. If Larin’s position were more secure, people might have made allowances the way they already had for Larin’s mistreated past shehzha. But even with the Koel and one Inri out of the way, Larin was making a show of respecting Taji as shehzha, if not as IPTC.
Even as emperor, he was bound by the same traditions as pub patrons and soldiers and a hurat like Trenne. He’d tested them already, driven the Koel and possibly others to public defiance, though still one where Larin had been allowed to retaliate. But he had to honor Taji as someone else’s shehzha, at least until that rule eroded too.