* * *
'Sy
* * *
It's not often that I enter my office to find that someone is inspecting my crockery with such intense scrutiny. At least, someone who isn't Jhe h'Logos. The slender blonde looks up at me with an arched eyebrow that implies I am intruding on her. I raise an eyebrow myself, recognizing the features of Ebrellin-i's daughter. While I've no explanation for her presence in my office just yet, I decide that the proper thing to do is bow as I would in Court.
Her dour composure splits into a grin, and she curtseys in return. "My word, it does please me that someone from this realm observes proper decorum. Rocsui Xaillyndesse d'Audiva Rocale, if you please." She extends her hand in greeting. I take it in turn, bow over it enough to be polite, and release it.
"Jhe Tesynnodai h'Akribastes l'Radia, if it please you." I give her a grin that sends a light blush into her cheeks. Just then I hear a not-so-polite cough over my shoulder, and feel a glower that can only be Katherine's. She did follow me in, after all.
So familiar. Would you like to invite her to a sleep-over while you two are at it?
I school my expression so as not to give away that my mind is anywhere else but on my guest. I would think that's more your sort of thing, given that she's your sister. Please calm down. I'm only trying to be polite.
An inaudible snort makes itself heard between my ears. Can't we just throw her into one of the cells? That seems to be the standard royal treatment these days.
Katherine. She quiets after that, at least between my ears, and then moves from behind me and makes herself known to the room at large. Rocsui's eyes narrow. I can feel hate boil up from Katherine. It's like a brewing storm, with nothing in sight to defuse it--
"Oh! My apologies, Princess, but the tea room's a bit of a wreck for some reason, surely temporary, I--Jhe h'Akribastes." My brother's youngest son bows very quickly and neatly for someone carrying a tea service, and also someone so suddenly afraid of me. ...Well, that's not too much different from his childhood. Jaxhelshon always did have a strange knack for self-preservation. A shame it conflicts with his natural predilections towards trouble and stupidity. "I'm very sorry, sir," Jax says, "but I felt it was best to show Radia's hospitality until you arrived here." He's sweating bullets, a trait that would be very useful in this building if it were just a bit more literal.
Katherine looks like she's about to load her Arms with them regardless of whether they're just a turn of phrase. I can hear Gevurah stretching to shift out of her knife-sheathe and into a form more appropriate for shooting with. Katherine mentally catches her Arms and halts the change before damage even starts to get done.
Jax, to his credit, looks slightly more on edge and alert in case of a sudden attack, though I doubt he consciously knows why. That knack for self-preservation is serving him well today. I shake my head, waving him off in a gesture of dismissal that's meant on several levels. "I have read your field notes, Jhe Cruxradia. Please see your guest to the Jhe o'Radia, as I'm sure she has concerns to address that are much more within his means than mine." Perhaps this makes me appear as if I am instantly perceptive to my guest's needs, but in actuality, there's nothing my brother and I enjoy more than using each other to pass unwanted burdens along to. He's fully capable of managing this, and I really do suspect that it's best he does, but I can't deny that the other motivation for handing Luciprochoros this specific chore is the delight of just imagining him dealing with a possible daughter-in-law.
Not that such a potential union doesn't churn my stomach a little bit.
Jhe Jaxhelshon, it seems, is also considering the implications of introducing his new friend to his father. That scared shitless expression is something that only the Cruxradias can properly pull off - as if the entire world is about to sink down and then yank itself out from underfoot.
Rocsui tugs on his elbow. "Well? Are you going to introduce me to your Father, or aren't you?" Her tone leaves no room for argument, and Jaxhelshon has never proven himself to be very resistant against the fairer sex, or even the not-as-fair sex. Soon enough, my office is empty of the couple.
Katherine opens her mouth, but before she can yet again attempt to vocally castrate me, I cut her off. "I noticed that something isn't right with your sister, so I wanted Luciprochoros to look at her as soon as possible. Considering his wards are the strongest single set in the Empire, I think he and your brother will be safe. I'd prefer she be temporarily detained there instead of near her Father, considering the circumstances. Besides that, my brother does need to attend to the matter of his potential daughter-in-law before it becomes even more likely to happen."
Katherine sighs, bites her lip, clenches her fists, and remarkably does not set herself nor the surroundings on fire. I remind myself, as I always find a reason each day to remind myself, why I block her from taking the pyromancy lessons. "Fine. Let's go see what Jhe Briarseal is doing home so friggin' early, then." With that, she turns to the exit, and I follow her. I can't deny that finding that out was part of my reason for shooing Jaxhelshon and Ebrellin-i's other daughter out of my care so quickly.
* * *
Camden
* * *
I'm a bit nervous, but that really shouldn't surprise me, given my position. In exchange for escaping one of my career rivals, I'm facing Katherine, who would be an even longer-running and fiercer rival. And then there's the Judge. Jhe h'Akribastes, who until now, has been very patient with me. Jhe h'Akribastes, who has always considered my rather unconventional approaches to training, missions, and battles with an open mind and, often enough, a forgiving nature. Jhe h'Akribastes, a warrior I respect and, as Geillg'a is quick to bite at me for, currently fear.
I don't pay any mind to the fear, though - or rather I put it all in the back of my mind and deal with more pressing matters that are right in front of me. If the Judge decides that I need to be demoted or punished for what happened in Audiva Rocale, that's fine. I do find it rather silly that I'm worried about these things now, when earlier I was dealing with everything quite calmly. Maybe it was easier to do so when I wasn't about to face that which might threaten, or worse, fire me.
Jenny clears her throat from behind me, breaking me out of my reverie. Ahh, speaking of people who have issues with the particular choices I've made during my command who happen to look like Katherine. Her frown is so deeply etched in, in fact, that I have a tiny moment of panic where I mistake her for her mother. I reach up and poke the little crease between her eyebrows, and in return she bats at my finger in a way that implies she'd break it if she actually caught me. I love doing that to her.
"I am present, in case there is any pressing need for me here." Her words are clipped out through clenched teeth, as if she's rationing each syllable. She's standing rigidly still, her spine straight and her shoulders held in perfect posture. In that stance, she could hold at ease for hours (with a due amount of foot-shifting and pinched expressions) or draw her Arms in a flash.
It might be an odd moment to be filled with pride for her, but I am. I reply to her with a tilted smile. "While you prefer to be in the thick of things, Jhe Jennelcia--"
"Oh cut the crap and the fancy titles, Peacekeeper. I'm through training. I should be out there, not cooped up in here watching some hick who's already locked up just fine! There's nothing to do here!"
I reply by widening my smile to a full grin. "Indeed, and I will put the proper paperwork in with your Father as promptly as is possible within the current circumstances, such as they are. However, until that time comes, you remain my trainee, and I remain needed here. That I was ordered to return from the field is no judgement of your skills or growth, and certainly no punishment for anything you did out there, and you would do well to remember that, Jhe Akribastes." The room grows colder as I speak. Indeed, I'd rather her not think too much about what we've done with each other out in the field. Her Father and her Mother are both adept at picking up thoughts that others don't want them to hear.
Jennelcia replies with a glare that heats the air right back up, crosses her arms, then stomps her boot down on the flagstones in the hall. "Fine. Am I needed here?" Her head tilts at just that angle it gets to before we have our most cataclysmic confrontations.
My smile crooks maliciously. "Do you think you should act as if you've anything to hide from anyone?" I turn to the cell we're standing outside of while she mulls that over.
Her calculating looks becomes more, well, calculating. The question of what to do with Jhe Fayegeaux does have the ability to get ones mind off of nagging issues. With him here to deal with, the likelihood that the Judge will pay Jenny and I's interactions much mind is drastically lowered. I will pay Cade that compliment, then - he's been convenient for a number of parties.
That just may be his only redeeming feature.
He hasn't been accorded the same accommodations as Jhe o'Audiva Rocale, of course, but what he has will likely serve just as well as the quarters Ebrellin-i assigned him. He'll have less to do here, of course, but we might need him to make use of a writing desk, and there's no reason to short him a bed. There is the desire for vengeance, and then there is common decency.
...Well, disregarding all that, if I wanted to take his deeds out on him then Geillg'a and I would simply haul him out and invite more of his blood to taste the air.
He's passed out on the bed, sprawled out on his back, that mangled nose of his lending a disgusting timbre to his snores. Chains lead from the manacles and collar to the bed. Jenny and I both enjoyed a smirk over how similar the arrangement was to how Gerald had been jailed by Cade.
My hand twitches, and I look down at the diary I'm holding in it. I'm still reeling over the fact that he kept one at all. Reading it was...
Well, let's just say that I closed it quickly enough after I opened it, and leave it at that.
The clacking of hobnails against the stairs alerts us to the Judge's approach, though I can't deny the sense of impending doom was a small clue. Katherine precedes him. She gives barely a look to Jenny, and after the cursory limbs-all-on-and-no-funny-business parental check her glare skirts over me before diverting itself to look into the cell. "Well," she says, "at least you brought something to make up for the diversion."
I'm about to protest when the Judge's hand comes down on my shoulder. "Jhe h'Logos," he says, "is being particularly reckless with his timing lately, so please excuse the rush. It may not have been necessary." He looks over into the cell and raises a single eyebrow. "Or do I speak in error? Is that...person even alive?"
"He's only out a nose."
"I'm surprised he's not been flayed." Katherine says it with a grin.
"Yes, well. If we hadn't patched him up after the flaying, he'd never have been able to talk enough to make it worth my trouble." I look up at the Judge. He looks down at me, waiting for an explanation. Good. Nobody is thinking of Jenny.
That's just how we like it.
"Jhe Cade Fayegeaux has agreed to tell us whatever we ask in exchange for his safe-keeping." I smirk. "If my observations are accurate, we seem to have enough leverage to permanently threaten his good standing with the Jherent Nul." I hold up the diary. It's an old thing, the leather green and cracked at the edges, the pages molded and brown. The writing on the cover is illegible with the fading and blurring that comes from age. I've got my hunches as to just how old it is. Older than myself, most definitely, but not my clan. It may have been young when my clan was young, perhaps. I'm sure it'll tell its share of stories about parts of the Dhealg'seala history I've always wondered about. Parts from the other side, from those who attacked it over generations. Only a hunch. But with Elricht gone...well, it's certainly something I've been dwelling on, when I can. "His diary. He's begged me not to pass it on to his employer."
Katherine turns to look at Cade and study his face. Her eyes narrow. We all get the message - he's not asleep anymore, but he'd certainly love us to think that he is.
"How intruiging," the Judge intones, plucking the book from my hand. "Certainly it's very...literate of him." He doesn't open the book. "Have you read anything in it?"
I glance back over at Cade. "...Enough to wonder just how interesting the entire work will be as a read. I felt pressed to close it before I got too far along into his misadventures." I click my tongue. "Should we go on and tell him that we can tell he's spying on us right now, then?"
Cade's eyes pop open, a bit of a grin playing across his cheek. It's like watching a doll come to life. "It would have been rude to interrupt your palaver."
I snort. The Judge cocks his head and looks over the prisoner. "Well, now that you're awake, you're free to join in." Just what is it, Jhe Briarseal, that you agreed to extend on Radia's behalf in exchange for his tongue to flap?
In particular, I told him he was buying your favor, as if it could really be sold. He expects nothing but to be kept here behind our wards, and has been promised nothing more than that arrest. Curiously, that was enough for him, and he did not barter for more.
His eyebrow lifts. Interesting.
"Oh, please, don't mind me, I'd hate to be a bother to ye." Cade attempts to wave the Judge away, the attempt so half-hearted that I wonder if he's simply bored.
"Oh no, I insist." Jhe h'Akribastes's smile quirks up into his cheek in a wicked little hook. "Do not let me stop you from talking, by all means. It has been so long since we've been able to have a pleasant conversation." The Judge's nature is growing more malicious by the second, his tone as calm as ever. Cade shivers for just a moment.
"Ah. Well. There's just so much to talk about that nothing at all comes to mind, Sire." It's interesting hearing him be so polite - like watching a dog very carefully arrange a tea setting.
The Judge nudges me forward. "Well, then, I suppose it wouldn't be too much trouble at all for the Peacekeeper to think of a few prompts to help you focus your thoughts." He leans down to whisper into my ear, "If you could please hand me your summons, Peacekeeper? I would like to have an idea of when it is I shall end up sending them back to you today."
I produce the official scroll rather quickly. Not but a few hours hence, by my mark. Did Jhe h'Logos truly arrange it all for his convenience? Ye summoned me as Peacekeeper, with the implication that the title would be put to full use sooner rather than later.
The Judge pauses as he reads over the scroll. I imagine he was attempting to leave me here with Cade and attend to other matters. His day must be quite full. His lips press into a thin line as he takes in the letter's contents. Amusing that the directive is as much to me as it is to you, isn't it? Jhe h'Logos seems to think that mucking about with time like this makes things simpler, but I feel it often evens out to quite the opposite. In any case, perhaps it would be best if we retired to my offices and discussed this in depth, as much as I am sure we would all love to hear this canary's song.
I repress a shudder. I've heard the horror tales told of Jhe Fayegeaux's vocal contortions. Perhaps so. Allow me to dismiss my trainee, then. Also, your other Gerald has a pressing matter in need of your attention.
The Judge gets a mental flash of Gerude's face. ...Again? I swear that boy's gone through more eyes than Lute's Arms have. He tisks, then looks up to Cade. "My pardon, it seems that we'll have to exchange pleasantries later. I'm sure you'll find a way to pass the time until our return. Perhaps consider just how many things you really feel that you must tell me before we consider a more permanent means of keeping you out of Nul." A flash of teeth punctuates the trailing threat, and Cade turns as pale as a Xaillyndesse. Well, a particularly unwashed one. He's left to think on talking points as we leave for upstairs.
* * *
Gerald
* * *
Jhe h'Logos is someone who I've always respected, and who my Father has always respected (though at more of a downwards angle). I've always considered him a higher power, like my Father is. So it's weird to see him walk just a little slumped, and it's weird to see him look pale enough to be transparent, and it's weird to see hollows under his cheekbones and bags under his eyes. The Poet King can have a quiet nature at most times, but he's also energetic, charged, and quick. He has to be, to keep up with all of his Poets. At some point, he leans against me just slightly, and I'm almost floored. Or rather, I'm not floored at all - he's so light!
He smiles in that undefeatable but still-a-little-bruised manner. "Is my condition so shocking that you're stunned into silence, Jhe Gerude?"
I trip from the misnomer. "Jhe h'Logos, I--" His eyes are twinkling. I just stare at him with my mouth hanging open.
"You'll draw flies, Jhe Akribastes," he says as he glides smoothly ahead. "Such a ghastly health hazard. And some people refer to my august self as sickly." I dart to keep up with the King that I've been assigned to keep an eye on, just as it flits through my mind that this was usually Stevane's task. I recall just how exasperated she was about it, and how quick Stevane is on her feet. Much quicker than me, in fact, when it comes to the reflexes. Then I curse myself for having landed this job. Jhe h'Logos just smiles back at me as I do so, eyes still twinkling. I catch up to him, suppressing a glower. He chuckles.
I let out a heavy sigh. I wonder if this is how my Dad feels, in those frequent times when he complains of just how much trouble the Poet King can be to manage.
Jhe h'Logos's smile quirks up. "Yes, actually. His eyebrows pinch together just like that." He tilts his head. "Please don't think I'm being purposefully difficult for you, Jhe Gerald. You are a delight as a student and trainee-- and, yes, a full Poet, as you have graduated into just recently. I should hate to cause you discomfort."
I suppress an eyebrow-raise. Those words were carefully measured and weighed without actually committing themselves to what they merely implied. Also, I know from watching this morning's breakfast routine that the Poet King enjoys getting a rise out of my sister. Something tells me that the fun doesn't stop once there's a different Akribastes involved. Father would certainly say that it doesn't.
"Yes, well," I compose myself. "I just want to make sure that you're properly settled in for a rest."
"As your Father instructed, yes." He tilts his head ever-so-slightly at me, a strange expression on his face, like a tiny smile. I recognize it from somewhere. I've seen many Poets with that expression, now that I think about it. I just can't place it, though... "Jhe Gerald. Tell me, have you had a chance to look around much in the Poet Hall of late? I don't believe you've been through it since your return, have you?"
I narrow my eyes in suspicion. "No..."
"Ah!" He beams, then catches me by the elbow. "Then come along. I've something to show you before I retire for the evening."
I should feel bad for being waylaid so easily by him, I really should, but hey, I'm a Poet. That look? That's the look we all get when we're getting what is, by Poet systems of measurement at least, a tremendously good idea. The rest of the world at large often differs vastly in opinion.
"...Aside from that, Jhe Gerude, we really should see to your injuries. Your face is so mauled that I keep mistaking you for your brother Gerald."
I facepalm, which is a mistake, as it only makes my swollen eye hurt even more. Is there still a porcelain shard or two in my cheek? I've managed to forget all about that, I've been so busy and too stupid to think about my own condition. Oh man, nobody even mentioned it, did they? I bet they thought it was funny. "Right, my King."
"Oh, don't go on like that, Gerude, you don't have to call me King if you're not a Poet yet." He's all too cheerful about playing this game.
I just sigh heavily. "Gerald, sire." What a long day, and now I'm babysitting the most restless busybody in all of the Empire.
"That would be your Uncle the Emperor, Jhe Gerald. And you have to admit, at least I didn't mistake you for Stevane."
What did I do to deserve this?
* * *
