Season Content notes: con noncon*, pain play, sexual contact, trauma reactions, people handling emotions badly, rape (not explicit), torture (not explicit), pony play, mind fuck (minor), privileged ally is privileged, confronting abuser/assailant
Jahlene’s discussion with Collanne soon bore fruit. The next day, she left Mattin in the suite and presented herself to the Emperor and Empress. Glances and flurries of discussion followed as she approached the thrones — rumor had already spread far and fast. As she curtsied, the Empress waved her closer. A murmur ran through the court. For the Empress to speak in her husband’s court was unusual.
Empress Jiltam was old, much older than her husband. She had stood Empress to several Emperors. Seeing her lined face and papery skin up close, Jahlene almost saw death’s hand resting on her silvered head. When the Empress spoke, her voice was a low murmur. “I understand you have brought someone special to grace my husband’s halls this year.”
Shocked, Jahlene responded without thought. “I like to think he is special, Empress.” It was unheard of for a slave to be acknowledged by Dannu’s Voice.
The old fae chuckled and patted her cheek. “I look forward to seeing him at your side.”
Jahlene somehow managed to make an appropriate reply. The Empress smiled and shooed her back to her place in the milling crowd. She nearly stumbled when one of the Empress’ Hands, the human slaves who spoke in her voice at court, winked at her.
Then the crowd surged around her, allies and enemies alike, eager to hear what the Empress had said and find some advantage in it. Jahlene managed to find her mental feet and responded with diversions and counter thrusts, excusing herself from the press of court as quickly as possible. She needed time to understand what happened.
But the stoicness of the Empress’ Hands was legendary. Surely she had just imagined the wink… but the Empress’ interest was real.
Five days later, word circled through the halls of the palace: Oeloff had arrived. It was early enough that he would be expected to present himself to the Emperor before he retired for the night. Jahlene and Mattin hurried to the throne room to be present when Oeloff arrived. Jahlene’s appearance before the Double Thrones had gone off without any problems and with the minor coup of drawing the Empress’ attention. With luck they could ensure Oeloff’s night did not go as well.
Mattin had not been present when Jahlene first appeared before the fae rulers. He did see them from a distance each evening, at the court dinners Jahlene, and perforce he, attended. The court in all its glory was different from the formal pageantry of those dinners. Various fae notables were all dressed in their finest. Gems were everywhere, glinting with reflections of the hundreds of candles and oil lamps.
The heat and crush disoriented Mattin. He hurried to keep up with Jahlene and strained to hear her over the dozens of conversations surrounding them. The court filled until there was barely room to move. A glance at the doors showed more fae, some accompanied by their attendants, still arriving.
In his distraction, Mattin nearly walked into Jahlene. He froze, praying his lapse hadn’t been noticed. A man—a human man—stood in front of Jahlene, blocking her way. The man wore a simple woolen shift that had to be beastly in the room’s heat. Stylized trees in a deep green decorate the hem and collar of the shift. The same trees that decorated their suite.
Mattin’s jaw dropped as Jahlene bowed to the man, as she would have to the Emperor himself. The man glanced at Mattin with what he would have sworn was amusement, then addressed Jahlene. “n’Erida, you begin a journey this night far more perilous than you know. If you survive the year, seek me in the sacred groves, and we will speak. Such are the words of my mistress.”
Jahlene bowed again, “Please tell Dannu’s Voice I hear her words and will heed them.”
The man bowed, more of a deep nod, and disappeared into the crowd.
Mattin stared after him, trying to make sense of the strange message—and messenger. Jahlene circled her hand. Mattin pulled out of his distraction and offered her a fan, which she spread in front of her face. Behind it, she murmured, “Later. This means much but changes nothing.” Mattin acknowledged her words and focused on the surrounding fae. A stir at the door announced Oeloff’s arrival.
Jahlene moved back into the crowd as the heralds announced Oeloff’s entry into the Emperor’s court. He was unaccompanied, though the rumor Collanne shared said he had a woman—hopefully Marta—accompanying him. Mattin couldn’t see Oeloff, though he could mark the fae’s passage by the stir through the crowd. The male would repeat the steps Jahlene had gone through a few days earlier. Approach the Double Thrones and accept the Emperor’s welcome, at which point the rest of the court would be permitted to acknowledge his presence.
Once the male had passed by Jahlene edged toward the middle of the room. Mattin stayed right at her shoulder. Collanne had done her work well. As Jahlene approached, many of the fae stepped back, opening a space for the coming confrontation. Behind Mattin, two fae exchanged a bet on the outcome.
The crush hadn’t cleared enough to see the thrones, but a few moments later, Oeloff appeared. He stepped into the open area with the clear intent of exiting the room as quickly as possible. He barely glanced at Jahlene as he strode past. Then his eyes crossed Mattin’s. He stumbled. Jahlene stepped forward and caught his elbow, helping her enemy keep his feet. “Oeloff! Did something trip you? The trailing sleeves this season…”
Oeloff shook her off. “Jahlene…”
Mattin made himself ignore the male. Jahlene signaled him, and he stepped forward with a bow, putting a handkerchief into her outstretched hand. He added the most formal gesture of obedience in Cook’s repertoire before stepping back and doing his best to turn invisible. From the corner of his eye, he saw Oeloff’s face turn the same shade of red as his tunic. Jahlene used the handkerchief to wipe the sweat that popped out on Oeloff’s face, and the male’s hand shook as he pushed her away.
“I am fine, Lady n’Erida. Simply taken by surprise. Your attendant reminds me of a peasant from my own lands. His sister accompanied me here, a luscious toy I have kept to myself, though perhaps you might wish to join me in the glamourhame this season?”
Mattin sat on the rage that tried to rise, focusing on his trust in Jahlene.
“I’m not surprised he is familiar to you, Oeloff. I tasted your glamour on him when he washed up at my doorstep. I do hope recent events haven’t caused you difficulties. I couldn’t believe the strength you’d expended on a single human boy. Especially one so eager to please.”
Responses drilled into reflex, Mattin touched his forehead and chest with the tips of his fingers. Oeloff’s eyes narrowed, presumably tasting the sincerity behind the gesture of honored submission. Mattin found himself wishing he could taste the fae’s emotions in turn.
Whatever Oeloff was feeling, he said no more, hurrying out of the audience chamber.
Mattin breathed a sigh of relief as the lord disappeared from sight and tried not to collapse. He nearly jumped when Jahlene put a hand on his shoulder. “Well done,” she murmured.
The other fae closed in, and the rest of the evening was spent in politics. Mattin didn’t understand a great deal of it, but he kept track of everything, making mental notes for later. One thing was clear: Jahlene had won a not-so-minor victory that evening, and the alliances of the court were shifting in response.
By the time they retired for the night, Mattin almost had forgotten the strange messenger and his message.
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