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beatrice-otter · 1 month ago

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Fic: A Winter's Visit

highadrenalineexchange 2025 has wrapped, and so I can reveal what I wrote! Although I think it would be pretty easy to identify this one. For one thing, I had a great deal of trouble reigning myself in from making it my second TGE fic in a year to be about "why the Ethuveraz needs trains and how it might go about getting them." (Perhaps I should make this and Amber part of a series titled "Ethuverazheise Train Cinematic Universe"!) The request was for Idra, Ino, Mireän, and Maia, and I had trouble getting all three of the kids in--Mireän only appears in passing--and I'm still not quite satisfied with how I managed to tie together Idra and Ino's plots. It is very much Ino's story, with the others mostly there to support her (except for the bit where Idra is all HI HERE'S WHY WE NEED TRAINS!) But my recip liked it, so that's good.

And my usual beta for TGE fics was unable to do it because of the time crunch, so I had NOBODY to double-check my pronoun usage, which is always nerve-wracking for TGE fics. I was still fixing things an hour before the collection went live. Title: A Winter's Visit Author: Beatrice_otter Fandom: The Goblin Emperor Written for: DontStopHerNow in High Adrenaline 2025

At AO3. On Squidgeworld. On Dreamwidth. On Pillowfort.

Cousin Maia was very good with children, and very affectionate with them. More than that, he held very different views on the proper place of children than most others in the court. Thus it was that, unless the duties of the court required his presence in the early morning (which very seldom happened), he had breakfast with all the children in the Alcethmeret nursery old enough to reliably feed themselves without assistance.

When Ino had been seven, it had been wonderful. She had delighted in the attention, felt very grown-up, striven to be worthy of it, and the severest punishment her nursemaid Suler needed was a threat to keep her in the nursery of a morning instead of at the Emperor's breakfast table.

Now that Ino was nineteen, it was a very different matter.

A thump and a nursemaid's hissed command heralded the arrival of her cousins, Maia's own children, who trooped out of the nursery every morning to join their elders for breakfast.

Well, they should have trooped out. Instead, it was more of a flood. Maialis, the Prince of the Untheileneise Court, managed a steady and sober walk as befit his rank and his age—at nine, he thought he should be treated like an adult, and desperately clung to his dignity. Ino tried not to laugh at him too much, because he was so sensitive about it, and then people blamed her for upsetting him.

His elder sister Csethan, eleven, skipped behind him, oblivious to any hints that an eleven year old should begin acting like a lady instead of a hoyden.

Chenelet had obviously not had a good morning; he clutched at his favorite blanket and scowled at everyone. Ino prepared herself for an hour of a cranky child wanting his parents' attention.

Make that two children. Vederu had a similarly thunderous expression and made straight for her mother's lap as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her.

Ino sighed and ignored the resulting hubbub as best she could, eating her porridge and vareniki delicately. She was the only adult present—other than the nohecharei, obviously—who was fully dressed for the day. But then, she was the only one who did not live in the Alcethmeret. The sacrifice of her morning comfort for an apartment all of her own was well worth it.

"Cousin Ino, Cousin Ino, what do you think?"

Ino looked up from her vareniki. "About what?" She realized her mistake too late, as the entire drama was recounted to her again. Well, better to get things wrong here, in the family circles that would not hold it against her or exploit any openings—or, not maliciously exploit, she corrected herself as Vederu held forth in her mostly-comprehensible way, explaining a long and impenetrable series of nursery injustices that Ino could not quite follow. "I think that thou shouldst listen to Suler," she said, when Vederu paused for breath.

Chenelet stuck his tongue out at his little sister. She scowled at him, and the dispute went on without any further need for Ino's participation.

She had finished eating and made herself a second cup of tea when Cousin Maia gathered everyone's attention.

"I have news from Cousin Idra," he said, smiling benevolently at his offspring. "The campaign season is over, and his regiment has been released to winter quarters. He will be arriving back at the Untheileneise Court within the week, unless there is some change in plans or unforeseen difficulty."

The children cheered and immediately started asking what sort of presents he would be bringing them, and what sort of stories he might have of the year's adventures. But the breakfast hour was almost over, and soon enough Suler led the Imperial nursemaids to collect the children and take them back to the nursery.

Ino stared after them. "We were never that loud." She was sure that she and Mireän could not possibly have been half so obnoxious as her Imperial cousins were.

Cousin Csethiro shot her an amused look, which Ino ignored with dignity.

"I cannot say, because I did not know you when you were as young as Chenelet or Vederu," Cousin Maia said, which wasn't an agreement. "But as there were only two of you, and there are five currently in the nursery—" Baby Losheru was too young to eat at the table, and didn't join them for breakfast "—it seems likely."

Ino changed the subject. "Do you think it likely that Idra will be delayed? He is the former Prince of the Untheileneise Court, and he still has duties here until Maialis is old enough to take them up. Surely his superiors know this."

Cousin Maia shrugged and sipped his own tea. "I try not to interfere in the workings of the army, especially not where Idra is concerned; he asked me not to, when he told me his plans. He doesn't want to appear to be getting special treatment any more than is necessary."

"He gets it anyway," Ino pointed out. "This way he is most likely to get it only when he doesn't want it, and never when it would make things easier." But she didn't argue the point. Idra wasn't here to present his side of it, and Maia would respect Idra's wishes unless he had a very compelling reason to do otherwise. She liked the freedoms Cousin Maia allowed her; she should not quibble that Idra got the same. (Even when she thought Idra was being stupid about it.)

It was traditional for the Emperor's sons to serve in the army for at least a few years. Varenechibel had served only a few years before coming to the throne at a younger age than anyone expected. Her father Nemolis had served for a few years but had not liked it, resigning his commission as soon as was politic; Uncle Nazhira had served in the army from his sixteenth birthday to his death, which was part of the reason why he had never married. It was good of Idra to take up the role, since Cousin Maia had never been able to; it reassured the traditional that things were proceeding as they should and that Maia's sons would take their place when the time came. Ino understood all the reasons why Idra had done it, but she missed him.

"What are thy plans?" Cousin Csethiro said.

It took Ino a moment to remember the week's calendar. "I'm going to Aunt Vedero's salon this afternoon. Then dinner and a musical party hosted by the Thorimada. Tomorrow, an informal tea with my friends in my own apartments in the morning, followed by lunch with Aunt Arbelan."

"Will Dach'osmin Havrasezhin be there?"

"At my tea?"

Cousin Csethiro nodded.

"The elder Dach'osmin Havrasezhin will not be there, but her younger sister Dach'osmin Neman Havrasezhin will be. Why?" Ailu Havrasezhin was an utter bore, and thankfully had approximately as much affection for Ino as Ino had for her. The Havrasezhada had risen in importance since her uncle's appointment as Witness for the House of Blood, and it was politic for Ino to have a friend from that house, but thankfully Neman was of age and much more interesting.

"There has been some talk that her father is considering marrying her to Reberu Esheved."

Ino bit back her first response, which was 'a goblin?' and considered the matter. Since the completion of the Wisdom Bridge, the number of Barizheise merchants and petty nobles at the Untheileneise Court had grown swiftly. They faced considerable derision and even outright rudeness from certain quarters, but the financial interests they represented could not be ignored. Still, there were many wealthy Elvish men at court, and the Havrasezhada were in no financial difficulties.

She turned to Cousin Maia. "Are they trying to curry favor with thee?" It was well known that her cousin favored trade and opening the Ethuveraz to the outside world in ways it had never been before.

"Mayhap my father started a trend," Maia said, with the twist to his mouth that only came when he spoke of his father. His ears were perfectly still. He never spoke ill of Varenechibel IV, but he never spoke well of him either.

Though Ino had no memories of her grandfather she knew enough of how Cousin Maia and his mother had been treated to know that she would not have liked him.

"But no," Maia went on, "I do not think the Havrasezhada are courting my favor—or, at least, it is not their only goal. Each of the noble houses has certain rights of trade regulation within their own land, including the right to put small tariffs on goods moving through their lands. Most have agreements with the other houses to wave such tariffs on goods being shipped or traded by their peers."

"I know that," Ino said, then paused and considered it more carefully. The Havrasezhada were from Thu-Istandaär, and the only great river in that province was the Istandaärtha itself which bordered it … and there were precious few of the smaller rivers, either. Goods travelled by road or by airship, and thus were more expensive … and more vulnerable to the small tariffs each house along the way might add. And the Havrasezhada lands straddled not one but two of the major highways. "If the heir of the Eshevada trading house was married to a daughter of the Havrasezhada, would that make Eshevada goods count as Havrasezheise goods?"

"Quite possibly, depending on how they write up the settlements that go with the marriage contracts," Maia said.

"Oh." Ino felt her ears twitching as she tried to figure out what that would do to the balance of power among the minor noble houses of Thu-Istandaär. And to their finances. "Are we … in favor of this?" True, the Ethuveraz would be enriched; but if it became a trend, the western houses would be tied even closer to the Barizheise than they were now … and there was already a great deal of resentment over the way the economic power of the Ethuveraz was shifting west and south.

On the other hand, the more notable Goblin houses were tied through blood and business to Elvish ones, the more the economic power of Barizhan would shift north. Especially given the instability of Barizhan in the last few years, and the relative stability of the Ethuveraz. That would strengthen and maintain the Elflands' access to the trading opportunities of the Chadevan Sea, on Barizhan's coast.

"Are we … in favor of such a match?" Ino asked.

"We have no official position, as of yet," Cousin Maia said, using the plural to indicate the House Drazhada as a whole.

"Much of the court will assume we are, regardless, unless there is some great show of disfavor." Cousin Csethiro flicked her ears.

Ino rolled her eyes. That was a given; the only reason half the court no longer gossiped about Maia being an agent of the Great Avar was Maru Sevraseched's death and the fact that in the four years since, Barizhan had had five Great Avars … and the current one did not look to have any longer a tenure than his immediate predecessors.

"We simply want to be kept informed," Cousin Maia said.

"Then if Neman has any gossip to share, I will pass it along," Ino said. "Is Idra's return something to be shared?"

"Of course," Cousin Maia said.

***

Dach'osmer Pelu Verenar was passing through the corridor as Ino walked back to her own apartments to prepare for Aunt Vedero's salon.

It was no coincidence; he was very good at finding times and places where they might casually meet, as if by chance. This time he even managed to cross her path in the few minutes when no one was in earshot.

"Dach'osmer Verenar," she said with a smile and a curtsey.

"Dach'osmin Drazhin," Pelu said, with a bow. "How were the Imperial children this morning? Any less … loud?"

Ino smiled; he always remembered what she told him, which many young men didn't, even for the Emperor's niece. "Alas, no—there was one of those childish disputes that was not resolved by the nursemaids." She rolled her eyes.

Pelu shrugged. "Children will be children." He told a brief, amusing anecdote of his younger brothers' antics, and then bid her a respectful farewell and went on his way as someone turned onto the same stretch of corridor.

Ino wished he'd stayed; she had time, and she liked him. But she could hardly invite him back to her apartments alone, and they could not stand around in the corridor forever. And there was a good chance she would see him today or tomorrow, at the musical evening or in the gardens or somewhere they might have a longer time to talk.

She sighed, and went into her rooms to get ready. Not that there was much to prepare for; she was already dressed, she'd reviewed the subject of the salon well enough not to make a fool of herself, and she knew all the people who would be there and what she should say to them—had said to them a hundred times before, at similar gatherings.

***

"—I know he's hard to handle when he has too much time on his hands, but Corporal Nesteth does well keeping his men in line when we're on the march, so if you can keep him occupied well enough he doesn't get busted down to private—again—that would make things easier for us next season—" Idra broke off, realizing that Lieutenant Sadronar wasn't listening. "Am I boring you, Lieutenant?"

Sadronar laughed. "Sir, I've been with this regiment longer than you have. All we're doing is staying in winter quarters, maybe going out to clean snow from the roads in the area if they get particularly bad. And also … that's the third time you've asked me to keep an eye on Nesteth."

Idra's ears drooped, just slightly. He'd gotten used to the freedom of the army; he'd need to get back his court manners and his control of his features, and quickly. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

"Anyone would think you didn't want to spend the winter at court," Sadronar said. "Though of course I know it can't be that; only an idiot would prefer the winter here to … anywhere else."

"I miss my sisters terribly," Idra said. Pronouns that didn't indicate the level of formality or intimacy had been one of the hardest things to learn, when he'd received his commission; it would be a relief to be back where he didn't have to constantly remind himself which ones to use. "And the rest of the family."

"Sisters, hells," Sadronar said. "What about ladies? You'll get to go to all sorts of parties and balls, and dance with some of the prettiest girls in the land!"

"The most titled, anyway," Idra said. "Which isn't the same thing."

"Do you mean that the engravings in the newspapers would lie to me?" Sadronar said with a mock pout. "Honestly, I wouldn't care whether they're homely or exquisite, as long as they're willing to dance. Make sure to savor your good fortune, Drazhar."

"I'll be sure to think fondly of you while I dance with them," Idra said.

"No, you won't," Sadronar said.

"No, I won't," Idra agreed. "But if you are not hanging on my wisdom for how to manage things in my absence, you are dismissed. I have some things to finish up for the colonel before I can leave."

Sadronar clambered to his feet, braced to attention, and sauntered out of the cramped little office that Idra rated as a captain. He closed the door on the way out, to trap what little heat the brazier gave off in the room.

Idra did have a stack of work to be done, but he was a bit scatterbrained at the moment; it wasn't the idea of going back to court that bothered him, it was the method of getting there. Though he did miss his family very dreadfully.

He pulled out Mireän's latest letter to distract himself. Perhaps re-reading it would settle him enough to get his work done. It was a very long letter, as her letters tended to be; full of details about what she was studying, and complaints about this professor and praises of that one, things she'd done with her friends, complaints about the various indignities that had been heaped on the female students, and every other subject imaginable. Idra could almost think himself there in Cetho with her, and sometimes he felt he knew her friends (and rivals) almost as well as he knew his sisters.

Ino had not written very much this year, and her letters were much shorter than Mireän's were. He wished she'd written more. He missed both of them dreadfully.

***

"We hear that your brother Captain Drazhar will be returning to spend the winter at Court," Dach'osmin Olchevin said, as soon as the general pleasantries were over. Her older sister had been one of several girls who had been rushed to the Untheileneise Court upon Cousin Maia's ascension, but arrived too late to be a serious contender. The Olchevada, having missed that chance, and having no daughters young enough for Maia's sons, were now setting their sights on Idra as the greatest prize at court.

"You hear correctly, Dach'osmin," Ino said. "He should arrive within the week. Though of course the vagaries of military service may delay him." It was an informal morning tea, which meant that Ino was in her best dressing gown and her few guests—all ladies, of course—were in relatively informal attire; her closest friends had sent their edocharin ahead with dressing gowns of their own to change into, for greater comfort as they gossiped and passed the morning together.

"You must be so relieved to have him back safely," Dach'osmin Olchevin said. She was not such an intimate as to have the liberty of changing in Ino's dressing room, and so was in a day dress.

"Safety?" Ino said with a laugh. "We are not at war with Estelveriär—or at least, we are not at war yet, and the gods' willing that will continue. We miss him dearly, for he is the best brother we could imagine, but we have no fears for his safety, any more than we fear for the safety of our sister at the University." That was not quite true; Idra was not fighting but he was out with his men training and patrolling and he had told many stories of the idiocies (and occasional danger) that large, enthusiastic, and sometimes stupid men could get up to when given weapons and let loose. One did not find such things in university halls; there were weapons, but they were historical ones safely locked away in display cases. Not to mention that Idra was travelling back on an airship, and Ino had never been able to quite trust them. But it was true that the danger to Idra was not very great.

"Estelveriär, Estelveriär, why are people talking so much about Estelveriär these days?" Osmin Erimadin said, flopping back on the couch. "It's not like there's any danger from them. They're so small—and so far away! We wonder why Captain Drazhar was not sent to the steppes to lead raids against the barbarians there? He would have ever so many more adventures than against the Estelvereise."

"Also more danger," Neman Havrasezhin pointed out, with her usual good sense. "And it's not like anyone expects anything to change along the Northern frontier—they raid us, we raid them, everyone spills just enough blood to make sure our territory is not overrun, and next year we do the same thing all over again. But Estelveriär is changing—they're growing in wealth and trade, which means power. Which means a change in their relations with their neighbors, including us."

Ino's ears twitched. Neman was always practical, it was true, but she was not known for her knowledge of international trade.

"You are not normally so … interested in trade, Dach'osmin." Dach'osmin Olchevin raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps the rumor should be that you, and not your elder sister, is to be sacrificed on the altar of Goblin mercantilism."

Neman rolled her eyes. "Osmer Esheved has been a frequent visitor in our apartments, that is true, but we are hardly the only ones to host the Eshevada heir." She used the plural; Neman, like most ladies at court, lived in her family apartments rather than having her own as Ino did.

"That's not a denial," Erimadin said. "Tell, tell! We are all friends here, and will not gossip … much." She gave a wicked smile.

"If we were to pine over a man, it would not be Osmer Esheved," Neman said. She nodded to Ino. "Nor your brother; he is not quite handsome enough to tempt us, and gone all the time besides! And the effort of fighting through his admirers would leave us prostrate with exhaustion. No, of the men currently at court, we think Csoviret Shulihar the tastiest."

That was putting the cat among the pigeons; Osmerrem Medralaran hooted with laughter, and Erimadin said "Fair enough!" and turned to a loving description of how well he looked when riding, with some insinuations about other sorts of physical activities he might be good at. Which all flowed very naturally into gossip about who was taken with whom, and what love affairs were brewing (and who was oblivious to them), and what marriages might be in the offing, and whether the father of Osmerrem Corotharan's child was really her husband's or not, and if not, whether the father was Nevet Iëstithed and would that be obvious at birth.

"Nay," Ino said. "Corotharan's not that much a fool. If there was a chance her babe was going to be visibly mixed-blood, she would have travelled abroad or to one of her country estates and quietly given birth without ever announcing she was with child. Then paid someone to raise and educate it. No, either the child is her husband's, or she has an elvish lover."

"She could still do that," Medrelaran pointed out. "Give birth in private, and if the babe is visibly a bastard, claim it was stillborn."

"Harder to pull that off, I should think," Erimadin said.

"Not much harder, if you have a trusted midwife," Medrelaran said.

"Have you experience of it, then?" Ino asked, her tone making it clear she was jesting. Medrelaran's devotion to her husband was both touching, and rare at court.

Another round of laughter followed, and before long it was time for the ladies to take their leave. Ino bid them good-bye, and went to make notes. Nothing terribly interesting had been said, and she hadn't learned anything new, but a few of the things being gossiped about would affect House alliances and thus politics in the House of Blood and the workings of the various government departments the Houses had the most influence over.

It had been a pleasant morning, and she supposed it was useful, but she had passed many such pleasant mornings, with no greater result or outcome than today's gossip.

In all the talk of flirtation and dalliance, nobody had mentioned—or even hinted at—her own affection for Pelu Verenar. Ino would have liked to think that it was because of her own skill at concealing her feelings, and his discretion, and that nobody had yet noticed their … she could not call it a dalliance; a few heated glances, words exchanged in passing in the corridors when nobody was close enough to hear, a handful of dances, and a peaceful hour on a balcony one warm fall evening could not be called a dalliance.

Regardless, she was of House Drazhada, and first-degree kin to the Emperor, and high in his favor; her every move was watched. Pelu was the second son of a count, the leader of the Verenada currently at Court, despite his young age, unmarried, and a rising star. He received scarcely less attention than she did.

If nobody was teasing her about it, that meant … what?

Should she ask one of her aunts, or Cousin Csethiro, for advice? They certainly had much more experience with the court than she did. But … that would mean telling them about Pelu, and things were far too new and fragile for that. And besides, telling them about it would make it consequential, in a way it was not now. There would be questions: did she want to marry him? Did she want to marry him soon, or wait? Would it be an alliance that would benefit Cousin Maia and the Drazhada? How deep were her feelings, and did they measure up against the weight of all the political factors for and against them?

Now, it was light, and easy, and new. Something unlike the sameness of her weeks. Something to look forward to, to give savor and substance to the endless whirl of social engagements. There was no need to make such a decision now; the next private interlude with the women of the family would be breakfast tomorrow, and that was not a venue for intimate conversation, not with the little noisy ones present. But lunch with Aunt Arbelan, that might be a possibility. Aunt Arbelan would certainly have very practical advice.

***

Aunt Vedero was present at Aunt Arbelan's lunch, which was not unusual; the two women were, as all the Drazhadeise women were, close allies. It was a little more unusual for lunch to be just the three of them, and serve no greater purpose than the maintenance of family ties and mutual affection, but Ino appreciated it. She could relax more than usual.

The conversation flowed easily; Vedero's salons, and her selection of the next luminary to grace them; maneuverings within the Imperial bureaucracy and the Corazhas and the Parliament; an exchange of gossip, what the young people of court were speaking of (Ino's circle) versus what the mature members of court were (Vedero's and Arbelan's circles).

"Thou hast been quiet, today," Aunt Arbelan said as they lingered over their coffee and fruit. "Is anything the matter?"

"No," Ino said. This was when she could mention Pelu, if she were going to. "It is merely … I am a little bored."

"Surely not with us," Aunt Vedero said in the plural.

"No, I had much rather have lunch with the two of you in private than anyone else in court, with the exception of my siblings and Cousin Maia and his family," Ino said. "'Tis nice, to not be watched. But … I am weary of parties that have no purpose except gossip and pleasure. I know the work is important to maintaining the power and prestige of the House, and to our imperial cousin's agenda in the government, but it does get tedious."

"Thou couldst always go to university," Aunt Vedero said.

Ino rolled her eyes. "That is thy dream, not mine, aunt … and if thou truly wished it, I am certain thou couldst arrange to join Mireän in her classes. And don't claim thy age rules it out; thou art middle-aged, at most."

"If not university, then perhaps a vacation at one of the family estates, come summer?" Aunt Arbelan said.

"I am not a great outdoorswoman," Ino said. "It would be more private than court, or a large house party, but probably also more boring." She scrunched up her face. "I suppose I could visit Idra with his regiment; that would be a change, at least. But I would probably end up being his hostess for regimental dinners and things, which would be the same as at court except for lower stakes. So, of even less import than my duties here."

Aunt Vedero had a strange look on her face, that Ino could not interpret. "What?"

"Nothing." Aunt Vedero flicked her ears. "Only a passing thought."

"If it was only a passing thought, then there is no reason not to share it," Ino said.

"It is only … I once had a conversation very like this with thy mother, the Princess Sheveän," Vedero said. "Both of us frustrated by the limitations of our role, and the Princess especially so that all anyone ever wanted to speak of was her children. Things were different then, of course; Varenechibel ran a much tighter control over the family's political and social maneuverings than Maia does, and thus our scope for action even in social duties was limited. She had great energy and talents, and very few outlets for them."

"Dost thou think I am like my mother?" Ino was appalled. Nobody had ever suggested such a thing to her, but then, of course they wouldn't.

"No more than Maia is like his father," Arbelan said, "which is to say, in some ways very much so, but not in any way that matters—and the greater context of thy life is so different that it renders even the similarities as differences."

It was reassuring, but Ino could not help but remember that Arbelan had been gone from court for the entirety of both her parents' lifetimes, and could only have met Princess Sheveän in those few months between the crash of the Wisdom of Choharo and her attempted coup. They could not have been close.

Vedero heartily agreed with Arbelan, though out of truth or merely because it would comfort her, Ino was not sure; she appreciated it either way. Arbelan changed the subject, and by the time Ino recalled she had been considering asking for advice, the luncheon was over.

It was no matter, she decided. There wasn't really anything to tell. She flirted with men all the time. Pelu was not so very different, even if it was less public.

***

Idra wrote placidly on his portable writing desk, ignoring the view out the window and the odd hum of the engines. The view was magnificent and one which few people ever got, but he could never see it without wondering if it was the last thing his father had ever seen—if he'd been looking out the window when the bomb went off and set the hydrogen on fire.

He would have given up a great deal not to have to ever ride in an airship, but unfortunately his regiment was stationed on the Estelvereise border, and it was either take an airship back to Cetho or travel overland across all the bad roads that were the best one could expect in the far western edge of Thu-Evresar. He'd done that with his regiment this summer, when they were transferred to the western border. He wanted to do it again over frozen and snow-filled roads even less than he wanted to ride in an airship.

His brother-officers were all staying with the regiment over the winter. But Idra was an Archduke, and former Prince of the Untheileneise Court, and he had duties to his cousin the Emperor and to his sisters that could not be put off.

Thus the airship.

At least he had a number of reports that he could work on to distract himself. He had not quite finished all the tasks the colonel had heaped upon him before he left, and had only managed to leave on time by promising to complete them as soon as possible. If he had thought that joining the Army would mean less paperwork than if he had taken up a post in Cousin Maia's government, he had long since learned the error of his ways.

***

As the favored cousin of Emperor Edrehasivar, Seventh of that name, and third in line for the throne, Idra had been the last to board the airship, and he was the first to disembark once they reached the mooring mast at the Untheileneise Court. Only a few of the passengers would follow him; the rest, less important, would have to wait until the airship had moved to the general airfield of the city of Cetho, the city which ringed the court.

Thus when he stepped off the spiral stair and onto solid ground, he and his sisters had a few minutes of relative privacy to embrace.

"Idra! Thou'rt looking well," Mireän said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Thank thee," Idra said, "and so dost thou!" After almost a year away, the 'thee' and 'we' of the Court formal dialect sounded almost strange to him, despite it being the dialect of his heart. He turned to Ino and gave her a kiss as well. "Let us get inside where it is warm." Each sister took an arm, and they walked to the door the servant held open for them.

Once inside, there was a flurry of activity as each removed their coats and things and handed them off to servants. Mireän's fur coat and hat had concealed the sober robes of a university student, and she looked very well in them, as she had ever since she had first donned them two years ago.

Ino, however, was different. Idra blinked. "My. New dressmaker?" Her dress was made of a fine brocade that must have cost a pretty penny, and it was exquisitely tailored to show the fabric (and her figure) to best advantage. The style was plain and basic, but that only served to show just how beautiful the brocade was and how perfect the gown's construction was. The overall effect was quite stunning, and forcibly reminded him that Ino was no longer a baby, but rather a young lady of the court, with all that entailed.

"Yes," Ino said, turning to give him the full effect. "She's just starting out, I heard about her from Osmerrem Senitharan. You don't think it's too simple, do you?"

"I think it's perfect," Idra said, "and shows that both you and your dressmaker have a good eye for fashion and fabric. I think you'll set a trend."

"Thank you," Ino said, ears lifting. She ignored the way Mireän rolled her eyes with the grace of long practice.

***

While the entire court had been designed and built in a holistic way to house all the social, political, and bureaucratic needs of the emperor of the Elflands and his court, that had been before airships had been even dreamed off. Consequently, the mooring mast had been fit in much later where they could find space for it, and it was inconveniently far from the portion of the Court that housed the Alcethmeret and the apartments of the Emperor's family. It being late afternoon, the corridors were filled, and Idra and his sisters had to smile and exchange pleasantries with a wide variety of courtiers and government officials, when all Idra wanted to do was get back to his apartment and relax.

"It might almost have been faster to disembark at Cetho airfield, and take a carriage around to the Emperor's Gate," Idra muttered once Ino managed to extricate them from a conversation with Osmer Nachredar, who was a very important man in the Treasury, and quite good at his job, but who was also a crashing bore.

"No it wouldn't," Mireän said, "the Emperor's Gate is on the other side of the palace from the landing field, it would have taken forever. But it would have been private."

"We'll have privacy tonight," Ino said. "Cousin Maia is hosting a small family party—us, Aunt Vedero, Aunt Arbelan, all of the children. It won't be quiet, but it will be private."

"Even the baby?" Idra perked up. Babies were very sweet, and he enjoyed holding them, and there were none at his post on the Estelvereise border. Officers with families did not tend to be assigned to that post, and when they were, they seldom brought their families with them.

"Yes, even the baby," Ino's face was sour.

"Come now, Ino, we benefitted from Cousin Maia's insistence on including the children in family gatherings," Mireän said. "Thou canst not begrudge his own children that same privilege. Not with any justice."

"We were not as loud—or as obnoxious—as Chenelet and Vederu," Ino said.

Idra didn't bother to hide his laugh. "Yes, you two were."

"In any case, there are more of them, so they are louder," Ino said.

"I wouldn't bet on that," Idra muttered.

Ino pretended not to hear him. "And then tomorrow afternoon Aunt Vedero has a salon, and thou art invited, and then of course there will be a ball to welcome thee home in the evening and we shall all dine with the court, but the morning is thine to do with as thou wishes—and Aunt Vedero will probably assure thee that she will not be offended should you choose not to attend her salon."

"I shall be at the salon, and the early part of the ball," Mireän said, "but then I shall return to Cetho—you are welcome to visit, but if I miss too many tutorials I shall be frightfully behind and never catch up."

"Surely not," Idra said. "Thou hast always been the cleverest of us."

Mireän made a face. "Everyone at university—well, all the women, at any rate—is clever, Idra; that is not enough. Must also apply oneself and spend ever so much time reading and discussing things, so that one has the knowledge base to have things to be clever about. Substance, not mere wit."

"And the men are not clever?" Ino asked, archly.

Mireän flicked an ear. "Some are. But there are many families of the middling rank who send all their sons to university, for the prestige and the culture of it, and to give them something to do while they wait to inherit or to be old enough to try for a good position in the government or the prelacy or some other employment. In those circles, a young man must be truly thick not to at least try a course. But their daughters … their daughters must be so brilliant that all can see 'twould be a waste not to educate them. So while there are many men who are as bright as can be imagined, on average the men are not as talented as the women."

"I see," Idra said. "And hast thou found a man to interest thee amongst them?"

Ino laughed. "Now hast done it."

Mireän glared at both of them. "I am not at university to find a husband. If that were all I wanted, I could simply have stayed at court and let Aunt Csethiro and Osmer Aisava find me one. I am at university to strengthen my mind and grow in wisdom, and when I am done with my education I shall ask Cousin Maia to give me a post in the government overseeing the education of the Ethuveraz. I will have the post, and not any husband I may have. I will not be a prize to be won merely for my bloodline and my connection to the Emperor."

Idra was thankful, as he listened to her, that there was nobody else in this particular corridor to hear her. Her plans were good, and Cousin Maia would support her, but stirring up arguments about how radical she was would not be his choice for how to spend his time at court. Judging from the way Ino's eyes flicked around at each cross corridor, she probably felt the same way.

***

Once they reached Idra's apartment they parted ways, Idra to bathe and let his edocharis prepare him for the evening's dinner. It would be a small, private dinner, that was true; but as Idra did not live in the Alcethmeret proper, he would be seen walking between his apartment and his cousin's, and everything he did was always fodder for gossip. If he was dressed too formally, if he was dressed not formally enough, if he wore his uniform, if he did not wear his uniform … each detail would be scrutinized for any hint of his relationship with his cousin and cracks which might be exploited.

Ino and Mireän had the apartments on either side, and the other apartments in this corridor were empty, but to get to the Alcethmeret from here they had to pass through the Hall of Government, which led from the Alcethmeret to the place where the Corazhas met, and beyond that to the many office buildings filled with functionaries of the chancellery and treasury and judiciate and other offices.

Idra was ready in plenty of time, and was just considering walking over early—Cousin Maia would not mind, and perhaps the little ones would appreciate the visit—when Ino reappeared, changed from her day dress into an evening gown just as striking as the first one. "Mireän not with thee?"

Ino shrugged. "She's probably reading something dense and abstruse, and taking notes on it. She was complaining that thou couldn't have arrived a month ago, when the university was on break."

Idra rolled his eyes. "The army does not run its maneuverings for the convenience of any officer … not even when that officer is an Archduke," he said. "I could not have left my regiment before they were fully settled in their quarters for the winter. Not unless there were a state wedding or funeral."

"I know," Ino said. "She knows, but she does so love to grumble. An thou hadst come when she was on break, she'd have found some other matter of discontent. Not with thee," Ino hurried on, seeing his expression. "But because her schedules and routines have been disrupted. Sometimes I think she has entered middle age already—and she only one-and-twenty!"

Idra laughed, as he was meant to. "Well then, she must be content with her life if disruptions make her fretful. But how art thou? Art thou happy?"

Ino cocked her head. "How could I not be? I have everything a girl could want, and I am the toast of the court, and thou art here."

"And yet I think that if thou wert happy, thou wouldst simply say so," Idra said.

"I am not un-happy," Ino said. Her face was calm and placid, but her hands were fiddling with her skirt.

"Thou know'st thou canst always talk to me," Idra said. "And write, when I am not here. I wish thou hadst written more, this summer."

Ino laughed, a bright, polished laugh such as any court lady could give on cue. "Surely thou hast more important things to worry about than court gossip, and I have nothing else to report."

"Gossip can be useful, as well thou know'st, especially when I am not here to receive it in person," Idra said. "And in any case, I care about what thou art doing—and if that is a recitation of the dancing partners thou hast had, it will still be a welcome change from the monotony of drilling my men and leading them on patrols and writing reports."

"Then I shall be more diligent in my correspondence, when thou must leave to rejoin thy regiment in the spring," Ino said.

"Thank thee," Idra said. He thought about what Ino had said, and not said. "Thou soundest as if thou art not satisfied with thy life. As if thou hast nothing but gossip."

"I have not the responsibilities that thou hast with thy regiment, or Mireän with her schooling," Ino said. "I serve the interests of the House, and do my part in the management of the court, but it is not the same, there is no substance. Were I not here, Cousin Csethiro and Aunt Vedero and Aunt Arbelan would be quite capable of handling all without me."

"You could go to—"

"Do not say I could go to university, I have no desire for it, and would be no better than the useless young men Mireän complains of," Ino said. "I have neither the calling nor the gift nor the patience for it. I attend Aunt Vedero's salons out of social duty and not pleasure."

"You were always gifted in maths," Idra said.

Ino waved this away. "That does not mean I have any desire to devote the next several years of my life to them," she said. "I am glad that such a course is open to Mireän, and I see that Aunt Vedero would have benefitted greatly from being allowed to attend, and I am glad that with Mireän's example, more families are allowing their daughters to attend. But I wish it were not the only thing of, of substance allowed women of our class, aside from marriage and motherhood. And I wish that people would stop suggesting it as the sovereign remedy to any discontent."

Idra considered this. "Who all—"

"Aunt Vedero and Mireän, mostly," Ino said. "But sometimes Cousin Maia or Cousin Csethiro."

"All of the people, in other words, whom thou may'st speak truly to."

Ino nodded.

"I am sorry, and will remember not to suggest it again."

"Thank thee," Ino said, with a heartfelt sigh.

"So what dost thou want, if not marriage or university?" Idra asked.

"I do want marriage, and children," Ino said, "I do not dislike the idea, nor think it will be onerous with the right husband, but that will not come for several years yet."

Idra nodded. Even had their grandfather not set a precedent by marrying his children off later than was the norm at court, Cousin Maia had told them he would rather they come to marriage in maturity, rather than rush to it before they truly knew themselves and what qualities they would prize most in a spouse.

"And even when it comes, I do not think I would be satisfied if that were all that I had," Ino said. "I am like Mother was, in that way, I think."

"How would thou know'st?" Idra was startled. "Wert only seven when she was relegated, and I know thou hast few memories of her."

Ino waved a hand. "Something Aunt Vedero said."

"Many women find marriage and children insufficiently satisfying, and require other passions and duties to be content," Idra said. "Including Cousin Csethiro and Aunt Vedero. 'Tis not a sign that thou art like Mother, for truly, there are few similarities."

"Truly?" Ino said, a little doubtful.

Idra nodded. "Mireän is more like her, and even then, not by much. But the way she finds it hard to change her mind, and does not like it when the world does not do what she thinks proper—that, she gets from Mother."

"So, her most annoying traits?"

"Well, yes," Idra said. "But unlike mother, she never turns to bullying or tries to force things to be the way she wants them to." He hesitated. "I think it is because … because she has not had to resort to such tactics to get her way. She was given a control over her own destiny that Mother never had. So the resentment when she cannot have her way does not fester."

Ino hummed, and they lapsed into silence. "Dost thou write to her? Mother?" Ino asked eventually.

Idra started. They talked about Mother so seldom, he had thought Ino would drop the subject once she was reassured. "Yes. About once per quarter, and I give them to Cousin Maia or Lord Berenar to read before sealing the letter—they do not require it of me, but that is the best way of ensuring that there can be no unsavory rumors on the subject."

"What dost thou tell her?" Ino asked.

"How successful Cousin Maia's policies are, and how much I love his children, and all their accomplishments."

"She can't like that," Ino said.

"No," Idra said, "but she needs to hear it, to know that I am sincere in my affections and loyalty. And … I do not think it very likely that she will ever be allowed to leave Bakhoree, but if there is to be any chance of it, she must come to accept Cousin Maia as Emperor, and not grudgingly."

Ino's eyes widened. "Dost thou want her to be freed?"

Idra sighed. "I don't know. I sometimes feel I should want her to be freed, but … that is not the same as actually wanting it." He sighed again. "Dost thou write to her?"

Ino shook her head. "No. I have nothing to say to her. I do not know her, and never did. I do not approve of her, and from what little I know of her, she would not approve of me. And while it is certain she has much experience in the sort of social duties I now perform, and the managing of a presence at court, I do not believe her advice or perspective would be helpful. What is left? Nothing." She sighed. "Why are we talking about her? She has had no influence on our lives or the court since I was seven Idra. You were fourteen. Hardly relevant."

But she was, Idra thought, if only in her absence. Cousin Maia and their aunts were all that was attentive and affectionate. Certainly they cared more about Idra and Ino and Mireän as people (rather than as symbols or playing pieces) than Mother had, or possibly could.

Yet still, none of them quite filled the same role as a parent did; Sheveän had not been very maternal, but she had played the role of a mother with great zeal. Would Ino have apartments of her own at nineteen, if their mother were here? She would have been an appendage of their mother's social and political efforts, not a budding power in her own right. Mireän would certainly not have been allowed to go to university, not unless Cousin Maia had forced the issue. Idra's life would have been the least changed by their mother's presence, for he would still have gone into the army, as his father and uncles and grandfather had done before him. It was better, the way things were.

Princess Sheveän had been a major force in the Court for twenty years, longer than Ino had been alive. And Ino was the one of her children who was closest to taking up the role she had had. Of course Sheveän was on peoples' thoughts as they watched her daughter, and if that pressure was unfair it was also unavoidable.

"Let us go to the Alcethmeret," Idra said. "'Tis early, but the children will be happy to see us."

***

The children were, indeed, happy to see Idra, when they stopped in the nursery. In short order, he had the little ones hanging from his legs and the older ones begging for stories. Ino winced and excused herself to go find adults to talk to, and Idra made a mental note to tease her about it later.

***

Dinner was pleasant; conversation flowed naturally around the table, and the exchange of news and stories went both ways. The children were well-behaved and once they were sent off to bed, the adults moved into a sitting room for more comfortable conversation.

"That did not look like the face of a woman who wants children," Idra teased Ino in a low voice as they walked to the sitting room.

She shoved him. "I like children, I just don't like five of them at once. And Aunt Vedero has friends who can help with preventing that."

Ino took a seat in an armchair with room only for one, and Idra sat down on a sofa next to Mireän. Cousin Maia got the chair in the middle, from which he could converse with anyone he chose, of course, and the rest of them arrayed themselves around him.

"Tell us about Estelveriär," Cousin Maia said when they were all settled. "For I have never been there, and neither has the Witness for Foreigners."

"That is a mistake, Cousin," Idra said. "I know it seems very far away from Cetho—it is very far away from Cetho. And everyone's attention is captured by the turmoil in Barizhan, and they are so much closer to court. But by the same token, we are not paying enough attention to our neighbors to the far west. If we want to keep the lands west of Valno, that can't continue. Thy government needs a Witness who knows what's toward."

"Surely it is not that serious," Cousin Csethiro said. " Estelveriär is so small! And we have always heard that they are very backwards, besides, with little industry and less trade. Quaint."

"That may have been true twenty years ago," Idra said, "but it is certainly not true now. They have been building up their economy and modernizing with great rapidity. As for the people who live in the western edge of the Ethuveraz, they have very little reason to love the nation they are a part of; we take from them in taxes and return very little in the way of support. It isn't like the people who live by the steppes, and are deeply grateful to the Army for protecting them from the Evressai barbarians. Their trade, such as it is, is largely with Estelveriär; they are too far west to have benefitted from the Wisdom Bridge. The roads and canals linking them with the rest of the Ethuveraz are always in poor condition, so travel and trade with the rest of the Empire is hard and costly. But they have trade with Estelveriär. They have kin in Estelveriär, just as many people in the central Ethuveraz have kin in Barizhan. If the Estelvereise army marched in and said this was now part of Estelveriär, they would not meet much resistance from the local peoples."

"But that is why thy regiment is there, is it not?" Mireän said. "To stop such a thing from happening?"

"It takes six hours, by rail, to get from the Estelvereise capital to the border," Idra said. "I know, because I made that trip for a week's leave. 'Tis a very pleasant city; I enjoyed the food and the sights very much. But if a tourist can do it in six hours, so could an army. They have a regiment facing us, along that border. If we woke up one morning and found another two regiments had arrived overnight—well, we would do our best. But how long would it take news to reach the closest reinforcements? How long would it take those reinforcements to get to us? They would arrive to find us captured or killed, and the Estelvereise army quite happily dug in to what had once been our land, and very difficult they would be to dislodge."

Cousin Maia nodded. "How likely dost thou think that would be?"

"I have no idea," Idra said. "I am a soldier, not a diplomat. The problem is, I don't know if anyone in thy government knows either."

"The government is difficult to move," Cousin Maia said. "The army, however, is mine to command. Think'st thou that stationing more troops there would be helpful, just in case, or would that stir things up?"

"Having reinforcements closer than they currently are would be a relief," Idra said. "But the problem is putting reinforcements somewhere that they could get to us in time."

"Couldn't we commandeer airships to transport them, if needed?" Ino asked.

Aunt Vedero shook her head. "Not for the number of people needed—how many men are in a regiment?"

"Eight hundred to a thousand, depending on which regiment and how it is organized," Idra said. "Plus support staff, and all the supplies and armaments needed …"

"Right," Ino said, blushing.

"Better roads—and possibly a railroad—would help with the military situation, but it might also help tie the local people to the rest of the Empire," Cousin Csethiro said thoughtfully. "That is part of the problem, yes? That they might have reason to support an invasion, and few ties to keep them loyal?"

"Yes," Idra said, nodding.

Cousin Maia tapped his fingers along the arm of his chair. "Claiming it a military necessity would sidestep a great deal of the ordinary bureaucracy." Over the centuries, much of the power of government had passed from the hands of the Emperor into the bureaucracy and the Corazhas and the great houses, but the Emperors had always managed to retain direct control over the army and its resources. "And a road—or a railroad—built to move armies should also be quite effective at moving trade goods and people."

There followed some discussion of the practicalities and the politics of it, which Idra could not contribute much to, being somewhat out of touch with the current workings of the court. "Thou shalt have to be loud and insistent about this, while thou'rt at court," Cousin Maia said. "Wear thy uniform any time thou canst. Turn conversations to the military situation, and don't bother to be subtle about it."

"I'll talk to Captain Nimrenezh," Idra said. "See what he suggests." The Captain of the Untheileneise Guard was always chosen for a combination of loyalty and political smarts; Idra didn't know Captain Nimrenezh well, but he would be sure to have good insight.

***

Ino couldn't contribute much—or anything, really—to the conversation about the relative military strength of the Ethuveraz and Estelveriär, and the transportation needs that resulted from the large size of the Elflands. It wasn't what she would have wanted for her brother's first night back, and the first time she'd seen him in six months. But at least Idra seemed to be enjoying himself.

She took mental notes, so that she could repeat the appropriate House line whenever it came up in conversation.

Not that it was likely to, or to do much good; the ladies she was cultivating would be great powers in the court in twenty years, or at least some of them would, and many of the others would be married to powerful men. But they did not have that power and influence yet. Ino would do her part, but Idra—who wasn't even at court, most of the year—would be the one people listened to, because he was older and a man and had practical experience.

And of course it was right that they should listen to him. It was just that Ino was frustrated by knowing how little her help was worth.

To Ino's relief, the conversation turned to lighter, more personal matters.

That relief was short-lived.

"I have heard," Mireän said coyly, "that thou hast a special friend, Ino, and hast not said a word of it."

It took Ino a few seconds to realize what Mireän meant, and to her horror, she blushed. Well, she knew someone had to have noticed.

"Special friend?" Cousin Csethiro said. "A male friend, perhaps?"

"I would not call him a friend," Ino said. "But Dach'osmer Verenar has been very attentive, and sweet. I have not flirted with him, merely not discouraged him."

Idra straightened abruptly in his chair; Ino wondered why. Pelu had never been of his set, but they'd never had any disagreements that she knew of.

"And yet, thou blushest," Mireän said. "Very prettily, too. Would an objective observer agree with thine assessment, I wonder?"

Ino wished they would go back to discussing trade and military matters on the southwest border. "I believe they would."

"How long has this attention been going on?" Idra asked.

Ino waved a hand. "Not long—though it started gradually, so perhaps …" she trailed off. This was why she should have mentioned it to one of her aunts. Then she would not have had to discuss it for the first time with Mireän sitting there, smirking at her.

It almost made Ino regret the way she had teased Mireän for her crush on Mer Danisar, two years ago; no doubt this was payback. Though really, Mireän had been so absurd in her mooning she had deserved it, and Ino at least was not subjecting anyone to sighs and bad poetry.

She almost stuck her tongue out at Mireän, which she had not done these five years at least. Only her knowledge that she was a lady of court and not a child or a hoyden prevented her.

"Dost thou like him?" Cousin Maia asked.

"Yes," Ino said. "That is, I do not know him well enough to really know, but … I do enjoy his attentions. He doesn't make a show of himself, or of me. He's really very thoughtful."

Cousin Maia hummed.

"I would have told you if there were anything of substance," Ino said, using the plural.

"Of course thou wouldst have," Cousin Csethiro said. "And thou hast a right to the privacy of thine own thoughts and feelings, hard as that may be to remember at Court." She shot Mireän a look.

Mireän flicked an ear unrepentantly.

"And what of thee?" Idra asked. "Hast thou a flirt?"

Ino could have kissed him for that. "She can't have one, or we'd be flooded in soppy poetry," she said.

***

Idra brought up the problem of Estelveriär and their growing military and industrial might whenever it made sense, and told as many entertaining stories about the problems of supplying his regiment as he could fit in. The time they'd tried to purchase cloth for uniforms from Estelveriär and, due to a mistranslation, got fish sauce instead, got many laughs, when suitably embroidered; Idra was not shy about driving home the problem that it was easier to get supplies from the nation they were supposedly guarding against than from their own nation.

Still, it was much lighter work than he had with his regiment, and he had plenty of time to spend with his friends and family.

Which made it fairly easy to arrange something about the Verenar situation.

The gardens were not quite too cold to walk in, on a sunny day; the bulk of the court buildings and the evergreen shrubberies sheltered them from the wind. It was fashionable to walk in them, for fresh air and sunshine, and so it was easy to arrange to meet Ino there at a particular time and place, in one of the niches that provided at least the illusion of privacy.

They were in the middle of a nice chat when Idra heard the voices he had been waiting for, and touched her hand to quiet her. Ino obeyed the signal; listening to others' private conversations was a common hobby at court, when they were foolish enough to discuss important things where they might be overheard.

There was Vorvis Hamaneth, loudly discussing the current beauties of court and which ones might be willing to flirt with him … or possibly more, if the persuasion was right.

"You're a fool, Hamanar," Pelu Verenar said, amusement coloring his voice. "Too much chance of giving offence to their families, and then where will you be? Married where you don't want, or shipped out of court, or something. No, there are plenty of pretty maids and shopkeeper's daughters whose family can't object to anything you do to them."

"You don't follow your own advice, Verenar," Hamanar said. "We know you are flirting with the younger Drazhin."

"That's not for pleasure, that's for position," Verenar said. "She's too flat-chested for our tastes; we've got a very tasty—and shapely—girl warming our bed, and there are always more if we tire of her. But the husband of the Emperor's favorite niece is sure to get a good position in the government. We'd prefer one of his daughters, but—"

"You're too old for any of them," Hamanar said.

"We know, and it's a pity, because besides having better dowries and being closer to the Emperor, the eldest girl—what's her name, Csethan—seems to have mostly gotten her mother's looks, but we can hope she got a goblin figure. Edrehasivar wouldn't go for it, though, and we won't wait that long to get a plum position. We're hoping for the Chancellery—gods above, what we wouldn't give to become Chancellor some day."

"Will have to wait for the niece, too," Hamanar said. "They're in no rush to marry their daughters off these days, the Drazhada."

"It's stupid, is what it is," Verenar said. "They're missing out on alliances with the great houses, and missing prime breeding years—and they'll be too old to mold, properly, by the time they're in front of the altar."

"So you're, what, trying to start the molding before-hand?"

"Nothing so drastic," Verenar said. "But if she thinks well of us now, that'll make her more receptive to our suit when she's old enough even Edrehasivar might think it was time for her to marry. He cares about her feelings, so he'll care that she's fond of us. If we can get her to fall in love with us, even better."

"He cares about her feelings, so you should, too. In the long run, not just to get her to the marriage bed."

"Once we're married, what can he do? She'll no longer be Drazhada."

"But he'll still be Emperor—and you'll be dependent on him for the positions you want …"

The two walked on out of hearing range, and Idra blessed Hamanar for getting the timing exactly right. Verenar was not the worst young man at court, but certainly not one Idra would want either of his sisters marrying, and unfortunately he was fairly good about keeping his indiscretions—and his opinions—out of the ears of the ladies of the court.

Ino … he couldn't tell if she was taking it well or not. She was as pale as marble, and so still he could not even tell if she was breathing. "Ino—"

She held up a hand, silencing him.

Ino got up, and walked off. He scrambled to follow, and when he caught up with her, she took his arm in the proper fashion. They walked through the court in silence, except when greeted by friends and acquaintances; Ino's composure was perfect, and Idra struggled to match it.

When they reached Ino's apartment, she did not invite him in further than the entry hall.

"Ino, I'm sorry," he said, once they were alone with only servants to hear.

"For what?" she asked. "You obviously did it on purpose, and it was adroitly done so that we might hear for ourselves what he was like, and what he wanted with us."

Idra winced at her formality, and at the perfect evenness of her voice. "I am sorry that he was not worthy of you, and sorry that he toyed with you."

"We are grateful for your concern, though we do question the manner in which you showed it," Ino said.

"Would you have listened, if I had come to you and told you he was a pill and an ass, and not worthy of you?" Idra asked, matching her formality. Mireän wouldn't have; they'd all had experience with just how little she liked to listen when she was in the throes of a grand passion.

"We shall never know, shall we." She shook her head. "Brother, go. I want to be alone."

Idra wasn't sure that being alone was best for her right now, but he bowed and left.

***

Once Idra had finally left, Ino walked calmly to her bedroom, shut the doors, flopped onto her bed, and stared at the ceiling.

How stupid she had been. She was a favored niece of the Emperor, she knew that her proximity to the throne—and to the favors that might be won from it—would always be a factor in every person who tried to get close to her. She had always known it; even before she was old enough to understand why her mother chose this girl for her to play with, and not that one, she had known that merely liking someone was not enough.

It wasn't that she'd thought Pelu approached her solely because of her personal charms.

She had thought that it wasn't solely because of her uncle. She'd thought that he at least liked her.

Mireän would be crying by now. Ino had no tears to shed.

She hadn't been in love with him. But she could have been, given time and flattery.

How could she have been so stupid?

***

She couldn't stay in her rooms all day, and besides, that would be giving Pelu—Verenar—entirely too much influence over her. Ino was not heartbroken; she was merely foolish, and even worse she would be seen to be foolish if she made a fuss over this.

Still, she wanted comfort, and counsel; she had sat down to write a note asking for a private meeting with Aunt Vedero, or Aunt Arbelan, or Cousin Csethiro, and the ink sat drying on her pen as she considered which to turn to.

None of them, she realized. They would all be kind, but they would also be practical. They would want to know all the details not merely to commiserate, but so that they might see if she was vulnerable to any sort of nasty rumors, and how to turn the whole affair to the advantage of the Drazhada—or, at least, minimize any dis-advantages. Mireän was absorbed in her studies and not here, and Idra … well. Idra.

But there was one person who would listen, and care for her, and allow her merely to grieve what she thought Pelu had been.

She wrote her note, instead, to Cousin Maia.

***

Cousin Maia was a very busy man, but he had a very efficient fleet of secretaries who knew his priorities and guarded his calendar jealously; there was always time, when one of the family truly needed him. Ino did her best not to abuse the privilege, which meant that when she did request a private audience, he and his secretaries knew it was important to her and responded quickly.

They met in the Rose Room, which Ino had always liked; it was large for a private audience, just the two of them and Osmer Aisava and the nohecharei, but the darkness of the red and black and gold wallpaper gave it a cozy, intimate feel despite the size, and the furniture was very comfortable.

She explained the whole thing, from beginning to end. The kindnesses Pelu had shown her, the subtle ways he had indicated his regard for her, less clumsy and forceful than the other men at court, more attentive to her as a person and less to the general traditions of courtly flattery.

The way Idra had arranged for one of his friends to engage Pelu Verenar in conversation where Ino would overhear what he really thought of her. And that once he had possession of her, he would feel no need to treat her well, or heed her uncle the Emperor's wishes on the subject.

Cousin Maia watched her with his soft, compassionate eyes, giving her all of his attention. Few people could listen as well, as wholeheartedly, as Cousin Maia. He made all the correct sympathetic noises and said all that was appropriate, but he had a way of making all the social formulas seem perfectly sincere—because he was sincere, because he did care. When she repeated Verenar's words about the Emperor's powerlessness once she was no longer Drazhada, Cousin Maia inhaled sharply. He did not like men who mistreated their wives.

"I am so very sorry, cousin," he said when she had finished. "Thou must feel awful."

"I am not in love with him, and I never was," Ino said.

"But still, it is never pleasant to be deceived," Maia said gently.

Ino sagged and covered her face with her hands. "I feel like such a fool."

That was what she was stuck in. How foolish she'd been, how naïve.

"Art no such thing," Cousin Maia said firmly.

Ino looked up at him. It was kind of him to say so, but—

"'Tis not foolish to assume thy perceptions of people are accurate," Cousin Maia said. "Thou art young, but thou hast a great deal of experience with the court already, and art much better able to sift out the truth than I was at thy age. But there will always be people with bad intentions, and not all of them will be honest about it. Verenar is accomplished at deception. The only way to ensure that no one so skilled at lying ever tricks thee again is to assume that all people are liars and manipulators—and that is simply not true. Most people are, if not completely honest, at least enough so that one can tell when they are not."

Ino nodded. "And if I assumed all people were as good at lying as P—Verenar, I would lose many friends and cause problems where there are none."

"It is a needlessly lonely way of living," Cousin Maia agreed. "Thou hast a good head, and a good heart, and while there are undoubtedly things to learn from this, I would hate to see thee harden thyself over such an unworthy person as Dach'osmer Verenar."

Ino smiled as best she could and thanked him for the compliment.

"I do not know, however, that I am pleased with how Idra handled this," Cousin Maia said. "Effective it was, but … not kind to you."

"If it were Mireän, he'd have needed such measures, for she would never believe if she didn't hear it with her own ears," Ino said, half-hearted in her defense.

"Thou art not Mireän," Cousin Maia said. "But it is done, and there is no changing it." He sat back in his chair and pursed his lips. "It is Verenar who is at fault. If he thinks that is the way to our good graces—or the sort of person we wish to reward—he is very much mistaken," Cousin Maia said. He glanced at Osmer Aisava, who nodded, and Ino knew that Pelu Verenar would never receive a good position, or indeed any position at all, in Cousin Maia's government.

Ino knew she had taken much of the Emperor's time, and was preparing to take her leave, when Cousin Maia spoke again.

"Thou hast seemed … less content, lately," he said, slowly. "And it cannot be the matter of Verenar's exposure, for it has been coming on for some time. I do not wish to pry, but … is there something else the matter?"

"Nothing of consequence."

"Then there is something. Wilt thou tell us? If it matters to thee, it is of consequence to me. However small it might seem to others."

Ino had long ago learned to bring her concerns to Cousin Maia, and though that had lessened over the years as she had grown up and moved out of the Alcethmeret nursery, first to Aunt Vedero's apartments and then to her own, some lessons ran deep. "It is only that I am sometimes a bit … bored. Idra and Mireän are both doing important things that matter to them, things that they can see the results of. I know that managing the social side of the Court and the high nobility is important, and that it does matter to the politics of thy government, but … it is sometimes hard to believe that when there is no tangible thing I can point to and say yes, I accomplished that."

Maia nodded. And did not suggest packing her off to university, which she appreciated. "Wouldst thou like a job?"

Ino blinked. "But I am too young. Even an I were a man, you never give positions to people without they be at least five and twenty."

"Some people start younger," Maia said. "'Tis only the major positions that are filled by people who have waited their turn at court and are owed a favor. Clerks start out at sixteen."

"Younger, sometimes, if they are qualified," Osmer Aisava said.

"Such people fill out the low and middling ranks of our offices," Cousin Maia said. "And sometimes the highest, if they prove themselves qualified." He smiled at Osmer Aisava.

He turned that smile on Ino. "A position could be found for thee, appropriate to thine age. 'Twould not be a very high position, but that could change, if thou found thou liked the work, and were good at it, and earned the promotion."

Ino sat back and thought furiously. She had never considered it. Women were not barred from positions in the government, but especially at the higher levels (the ones appropriate to a scion of the Drazhada), they simply weren't present in it. Mireän had always said she wanted a position in the government, but that was Mireän, and also, she would have a university degree to prove her worthiness for it.

Ino had always assumed that her connection to the government would be through supporting Cousin Maia and, once she married, through supporting her husband's work. To take up a government post herself at her age would be a mild scandal, and there would be talk … but probably not much more than there had been when Mireän went off to university. Especially if she started in a low and un-prominent position.

And she would so much rather the talk was about something she had done, rather than any whispers about her love life.

She turned to Osmer Aisava. "Would we be … capable of the work? We have not much idea of what it might entail."

Osmer Aisava bowed. "There are many positions for which Your Grace would be eminently suited—and only some of those because you understand the workings of the court. A working knowledge of mathematics and statistics is invaluable in several offices, and we recall your tutors praising your skills in those areas."

Thus reassured, she turned back to Cousin Maia. "Perhaps? That is, it sounds interesting, but I do not know—"

Cousin Maia laughed. "If it does not work out, then it does not work out, and we can find some other occupation for thee. Thou art young, and hast much time to explore and find thy vocation, whatever it might be."

"Then yes," Ino said, a curious feeling rising in her stomach. Like butterflies. "I think … I think I would like it very much."

"Then it will be done," Cousin Maia said. He smiled. "I am happy I could help."

"Thank thee, cousin," Ino said. "Thou art the best uncle I could ever have."

#fanfic #fic #the goblin emperor

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micahsmalevolence-pccw · 2 months ago

Text

Micah Bell the Third

Correspondences:

Story: Red Dead Redemption Series

Deity Of: Survivalism, bonefires and banefyres, battlelust and valor, rusticity and untamed wilderness, the Second Amendment, natural disasters

Symbols: The "Come and Take It" flag, Dukes of Hazzard's rebel flag, No Step on Snek flag, H8, Elhaz rune, Tiwaz rune

Colors: Red, white, beige, gold, black, green/blue

Planets: Mars, Uranus, Saturn (again, the non-Cthonic variation of this planetary correspondence)

Element: Fire (and thus can be used as a symbol of Fire/South)

Tarot: The Tower, sometimes also The Hermit

Favorite Season: Summer (& Autumn)

Zodiacs: Aries, Scorpio

Birthstone: Bloodstone, Topaz

Holidays: National Day of the Cowboy, probably also something like International Firewalk Day given his sadomasochistic tendencies

Herbs/Plants: Cayenne pepper and red bell pepper, white pepper, black pepper, venus flytrap and gympie gympie, rocket leaves, and all herbs and plants corresponding to the fire element

Crystals/Gemstones: Carnelian, red scoria, red jasper, diamond, smoky quartz, obsidian

Animals: Horses, rats, snakes, vultures and buzzards, and creepy crawlies

Affirmation: "I'm a survivor."

Offerings: Coins and dollars (especially from that era), strong liquor, horseshoes, revolver imagery (such as drawings, props, rusty bullets, good gun oil with a ribbon, maybe even real revolvers if you have one), sugar cubes (for Baylock), and blood

When To Work With: Days are Tuesday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Times of day are night, midnight, and the small hours.

Reasons To Work With:

Survivalism and Prowess. Adaptability, physical toughness, resourcefulness, combat skills, quick thinking, self-preservation instincts, danger sense, reading people, protection, and wilderness survival skills.

Vengeance and Imprecation. Malice and mercilessness, amplified curses and hexes, psychological torment and misfortune upon enemies, lingering torment and sickness upon rivals, how far you want to take it is how far you want to take it.

Unpredictability and Unconventionality. Unexpected and powerful results, breaking patterns and barriers, batshit craziness, adrenaline, embracing contradiction, destruction as creation, and bending and shaping reality.

Confidence and Power Enhancement. Godhood, higher self-esteem, self-belief reinforcement, encouragement, cockiness, assertiveness, boldness, pride, vanity, brashness, haughtiness, audacity, self-importance, and narcissism.

Aggression and Virility. Hostility, belligerence, masculinity, manliness, alpha manhood (for cis men), testosterone enhancement and reversing feminization (for our transmasc friends), and hoydenism (for our tomboy friends).

Intimidation and Coercion. Psychological warfare, frightening presence, petrifying enemies, fear inducement, threatening glare, aggressive posturing and body language, verbal hostility, and overall being an absolute menace.

Do I really need to say it here that Micah Bell has a warning label? Out of all the Van der Linde Gang outlaws, Micah is clearly the most dangerous. He doesn't just have a warning label, he is a warning label. Please take precautions before contacting.

When you're going to invoke him, it's a good idea to look out for...

Signs:

Hear:

The shot of a Colt M1892

The clopping of horses' hooves

The crackling of a campfire

The unhingedness of laughter

The buzzing of a forest at night

The music of a bluegrass banjo

Smell:

The bitterness of cigarette smoke

The sourness of gunpowder

The ruggedness of leather

The smokiness of whiskey

The fear from an enemy's flesh

The metallicness of blood

Feel:

The toughness of calloused fingertips

The coldness of a revolver per hand

The prickliness of spurs

The heat of a bonfire

The warmth of worn leather

The roughness of a weathered saddle

See:

The glow of a fuel-burning lantern

The transportation of a horse

The flickering of shadows on trees

The rising of smoky wisps into the sky

The drifting of fireflies into the night

The smoldering coals of a fire pit

Taste:

The tartiness of vinegar

The saltiness of sweat

The smoothness of Jack Daniel's

The sharpness of fresh tobacco

The toastiness of a charred marshmallow

The lingering capsaicin of a pepper

These signs are to only be looked out for if you can’t visualize him in your mind's eye.

Clown-O-Meter:

Does He Do Any Pranks?: Countless. Most of his pranks are either offensive or extremely violent, carried out with a slasher smile and insane laughter, with no way of knowing just what will set him off. However, there are a few moments that aren't like that, such as when he told Jack that he would give him a dollar if he asked Arthur Morgan about the pole stuck up his ass.

What Are His Emo Moments?: He's an insomniac who thinks that sleep is overrated, his brooding nature is reflected in his worldview and his memories of his past, and his demeanor is marked by a sense of unrest and unpredictability.

Does He Have A Stage Presence?: Micah delivers his lines with a distinct confidence, and he is self-assured and imposing. For instance, the way he leans against objects, smirks, and uses his hands while talking all contribute to this image. He thrives on chaos and confrontation, and his actions frequently lead to dramatic showdowns.

Does He Have A Clown Cult?: Yes, he has what technically could be called a "clown cult" made of cowpokes, namely Cleet and Joe.

Would He Be Part Of A Killer Clown Version of Rebel Clown Army?: More than definitely. Micah has a deep-seated hatred of authority figures, and has no qualms about disobeying orders or taking matters into his own hands. He also openly defies law enforcement and the government, viewing them as oppressive forces. His guns were even stolen from a police officer who attempted to arrest him.

Did He Kill One Of His Family Members?: According to @miguel-owhora, the Bell family straight-up murders each other once they've grown tired of one another. Micah killed his father, and then he went after Amos and his family, just for fun and for the sake of the family tradition.

What Is His Kill Count?: 666

Overall (out of five): 🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈

Additional Notes:

Disclaimer: Unlike how I was for Dutch, I'm not going to defend myself this time because I don't think there is a defense for this. I still encourage those who hate Micah to block me, but if you send anon hate my way, maybe I deserve it. I personally think that Micah brainwashes people who hate him the most into people who love him the most. I feel... mindfucked. I don't even know what happened, and apparently, neither does anyone else who is a fan of him. All I know for sure is that I love him, and I started doing that at a time when I was suffering from night terrors, and needless to say, he shot all of my dream demons, and for that, I will be forever grateful and indebted to him. Now, my Additional Notes this time will have a different format as it is essentially a list of my defenses for him. It is important to know that Micah's energy differs from fan to fan as we all have different beliefs about him and defenses for him.

Did Micah Betray The Gang?: While you'll find that MANY fans agree that he did, my answer is that he didn't, Milton lied. I've always found it odd that no one could put an exact time window on it and agree with said time window. I've also always found it odd that, when faced with law enforcement, many people agree with the officer's statements rather than do their own homework — both in-game and in real life. Despite believing this even before watching the video, I think this video does better explaining than I can.

"Hey, Your Blog Says That You DNI With Bigots But Micah Is One. Are You Hypocritical"?: Actually, no, I'm not. Let me tell you something that may come as a shock to you: Arthur Morgan's fanbase is filled to the brim with Trumpites (although he himself isn't). Micah Bell has been very supportive of transmacs, and he was only racist and misogynistic just to be spiteful. His "bigotry" is the equivalent of those kids on Xbox Live who use the N-Words. For example, he kept calling Sadie the name "Hellfire" and became friendly towards Javier.

Why Did Micah Kill Cain?: His hatred towards dogs is definitely rooted in some incident from the past, maybe a childhood event or such. I certainly know how it feels to hold a grudge against all dogs after being bit by one at a young age. Would that excuse him killing Cain? No, but there's a lot of things that most of the gang members have done that aren't excusable. On a better note, he loves other animals, such as horses and cats. So, if you're planning on working with his energy, make sure that you don't have any dogs nearby.

Did Micah Hurt Jenny?: This is a heavy topic for me considering the fact that I am a victim of SA myself (as are other Micah fans). I'm going to say that he only said that after her death because she was dead and couldn't refute his story. He is a man to brag and isn't one to go quiet about any achievement, so the fact that he only mentions it then is a little suspicious. wouldn't you agree? I think that he was only pissed off that girls kept rejecting him, which caused him to spew all of that out. I mean, just look how heartbroken he was after that interaction with Mary Beth.

Which Type Of Witches Would Micah Work Best With? The ones that play Five Finger Fillet for a living while wearing leather jackets and listening to AC/DC, Mötley Crüe, or Metallica, or participate in some other thrill; likewise, also ones who need his protection or guidance to grow a set. There is no wrong type of witch except for those who are too unprepared or too yellow to contact him, or those who hate him. For those who do work with him, it is to be remembered that he thinks that you're beautiful in all of your chaotic ways and can't wait for the next ritual.

Regardless if you find yourself agreeing with me or not, one thing is clear: Micah Bell is revealed to be a very overhated misunderstood outlaw who, in fact, is both a Cinnamon Roll (kinda) and BAMF, once you do some digging into his story (...or are brainwashed, however you look at it...). He is a clown outlaw and "court jester" (as Arthur called him) who never had to go to the circus or clown school to prove his killer clown chaotic hilarity. As @fangbangzz stated: "He's the dangerous kind of clown, but he does it to mask his tragedy. His makeup would be violence instead of face paint. It just seems how he masks the pain."

And with that, I leave these pieces of information here so you can do what you want with them: either work with his energy or not. The choice is yours.

My Micah Moots (some of them contributed and deserve credit): @rom-707 @varoneatseyes @miguel-owhora @coloruin @sanguivorousmuse @08melancholie @davids-muzzle @444celeste444 @salvationcometome @metallic-cherry @missusarthurmorgan

#red dead redemption micah #micah bell #rdr2 micah #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption series #red dead redemption community #pop culture witchcraft #old west #wild west #western #cowboy #cowpoke #pop culture clown witchcraft #very personal #bookofbell

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