Responsibility Ch. 29

Irakly wanted to have a fine appearance, as many humans do. Goodness, even many insects were known for grooming. He felt no shame in spending a few moments indulging in his vanity, dressing up and such. After all, he was meant to visit his wife soon, and he wanted to have her full attention.

He chose a long tunic of a pale yellow color. Black lotus flowers and little red circles between each bloom had been stitched in that fabric. His fitted sleeves, neckline, and hemline all had thick white borders with blue stars. He put on recently knitted black stockings with barely ever worn blue velvet shoes. He tied his hair back into a looped braid and put on one of his more elegant caps, a blue one with a partially upturned brim and a little white feather.

Aside from a short chain of silver over his neck and a golden ring on a finger, he had no jewelry. There was little need to burden one's movement with too many of those pretty things. His Majesty spent more time plucking away unwanted hairs on his face than picking those things out.

When he was certain that he was a refreshing sight, he gave his perfumes a little sweep with his eyes and decided against all of them. Then he rose and told his boy attendants that once he was at the Empress Consort's door, he wasn't meant to be followed anymore.

Once he was inside that woman's bedchamber, assuming he was now alone with her, he tried to confirm that fact. At that point, the only person he'd noticed was himself.

He stepped onto a fur rug and looked over to the bed, which had its canopy curtains shut. If Rahela wasn't there, then she must've been playing a trick on him.

And Rahela was too old for mischief. Hadn't she firmly declared that once before?

The Emperor stepped over to the bed and used two fingertips to nudge some of the hanging cloth aside. He was able to peek at one of her bare feet before he decided to withdraw. A vague hint of bacon with a pinch of earth was hiding in the little space. He'd had a little whiff of it. His chest swelled at it. Something else nearly swelled too.

His voice low, Irakly gave his notice. "Little Empress, I'm coming."

He didn't even hear movement in the bed. For a second he almost wondered if she'd died. When that second was gone he was smirking to himself at the thought, for he had great doubt. That woman was difficult to kill.

Parting the curtains, the Emperor climbed into the bed. He didn't even take off his shoes, as he normally might do. He was too excited.

He landed close to the little woman, putting a bounce in the mattress, and he impatiently patted the back of one of her shoulders with a happy whisper or two.

Rahela pushed her body an inch or so away. Then, her hair falling with a nearly liquid flow, she pushed herself into a sitting position. A hand of hers pressed into the mattress as her torso twisted. Her blue and green eyes were partially hidden by heavy eyelids and pale lashes. Her darling little nose and cheeks were smooth, and Irakly wanted to assume a blush was there, but the lack of light brought uncertainty.

His eyes dragged away from the soft face and down the tender figure. Even the white chemise that was gathering around her knees and thighs was pretty.

Painfully and quickly, the Emperor's brow furrowed.

By this time ...

He'd expected ...

A belly heavy with child.

Yet here was a svelte creature. She might've even lost some weight.

He sat up too, so harshly that some of his joints popped.

Rahela closed her eyes, turned her head away, then lowered it. Her body moved as if she'd sighed, but Irakly heard nothing.

He gave a sigh that he knew she heard.

"The nursery," he quietly and soberly murmured, "must be empty and cold."

The woman's lips flickered, and then she replied, "Yes My Lord."

Two of his fingernails scratched at a blanket. "How long ago?"

"Some months."

The Emperor had nothing else to say, not because he had no thoughts. He simply knew there was nothing he could say to hearten the woman. There was no comfort. There was no joy. There was only the forever gnawing truth. That child was gone.

Yet here his wife was, only in her chemise, alone with him because of her request.

She must've wanted another attempt. Of course she would. She might even be desperate. One could argue that her life would depend on this.

But this news was still fresh in his mind, a new wound that stung and could fester if not treated promptly.

Irakly put a hand around one of her delicate little arms, below the elbow. The skin was warm and delightful, but there was only so much an intriguing beauty could do for him at this time.

"Wait, Little Bacon."

Rahela pulled her arm out of his light grasp. Her eyelids turned sharper and even formed a hateful expression. Still, the rest of her face was smooth. Before she could move her body away, and Irakly was certain her next movements indicated that, he wrapped an arm over her ribs and pulled her close to his torso. Her breath was a bit louder here. He heard her angry little puff of air. It was one of the most elitist noises he'd ever heard her make, and it was cute.

Using his free hand to pet her tousled head, the Emperor said, "I'm rejecting your advances. I won't reject you. Now rest with me for some moments. We can find a diversion after we've cooled our minds."

She huffed again, but she said nothing when he led her back down onto the mattress. He had to blow some of her hair out of his face. He slowly took in the bacon scent. He imagined it could lull him to sleep.

All his pompous dressing up, and what was he doing about it? He was lounging in a bed with absolutely no more intentions of impressing his wife. If anything, he'd done the opposite. She was quite sour with him.

But that was all acceptable, because he thought he could still impress her in other ways.

After some more time, the Emperor told his wife to dress herself, and he didn't mind personally assisting her. It was charming in its way. Finding the prettiest garments to fit the lovely little body was almost like a game. Deciding on which pieces of jewelry she should wear was an almost childish task. Pretty thing here. Shiny thing there.

Oooooh, one necklace in particular looked darling! It had sections of complex chains with strings of pearls and polished red rubies!

Combing Rahela's hair was the most amusing task. For one, Rahela's hair was still as glorious as it had always been, soft and thick. And for two, that poor Empress' face turned such a dark and embarrassed shade of pink that Irakly chuckled to see it. He stood behind her as she sat at a table loaded with personal items.

He held her hair by the ends and detangled that first. Then he focused on the main length and scalp. Every little sigh that woman made sounded reluctant and sweet. Every little twitch of her arms and wince in her face proved there was something lurking in her mind, something almost happy.

Irakly watched as Rahela arranged her hair into long plaits and wrapped them with pretty black ribbons. Each ribbon had thin silver borders. Once a plait was secure, pure impulse drove him to pierce a random section with a brooch. That made Rahela almost roll her eyes, or that's what the Emperor assumed the shaking little jerk in those eyeballs and lids meant.

As Rahela pinned a small cap on her head, the Emperor looked through one of her many chests to pick out a pretty veil. Most were white but some had color to them. He ended up picking a white, rectangular one with thick borders of gold on the edges. Those borders also had a black diapered pattern, somewhat thick outlines of high quality threads. He carefully laid it over her head, then tugged it this way and that to arrange it in a more flattering angle. By the time he was pinning that veil on, the fabric draped back just past her shoulders.

"You don't need to wear a headdress," Irakly said as he patted the top of her covered head. She winced at that gesture, all while he lightly smiled. Then he abruptly said, "Ah, I've brought treasures. I'm certain you know my campaign was successful."

"Will Your Majesty present them at the next feast?" the woman asked as she put her hand in her lap almost as if she was beginning to relax. Irakly knew better than that, however. It wouldn't be the first time he'd shown a gift off in front of so many people.

"There's so many that I feel I should turn them into spectacles." He picked up a little jar of light rouge from one of the Empress' tables, then he slid a little jar of water close by. "Pant your lips and cheeks, Little Bacon. You need some fresh patches of cheer."

***

The first gift the Emperor showed off to the massive number of guests in the dining hall. A light meal had already been served, and there had been a set of dancing too. Now, while it was still early in the evening, the Emperor had everyone hushed in their sheets and admiring his display of wealth and conquest.

Tallow from far off animals and oils from exotic plants had been used for making lovely soaps of various colors, shapes, and sizes. These soaps were in two different boxes, each one had been opened with some of the contents held up for viewing. Then the boxes were each given to Princess Tuya and Empress Consort Rahela.

Silks that had been painted and or embroidered with lovely patterns were held up for the guests to applaud. These too were divided in half and distributed to that princess and empress again. Previously, the Emperor had personally inspected each bolt and decided which ones were the highest quality and most beautiful, because those bolts had to go to his wife.

Strange new fruits that couldn't be kept fresh had been made into preserves in dainty jars. These would be locked away in special locations in the kitchens. The fruits that could be kept fresh were held out for the princess and empress to stare at and look forward to tasting.

Cases of rare and newly learned of gemstones were given a taste of firelight so they could glimmer.

Peculiar and interesting little statues of precious metal and marble were carried in for everyone's eyes.

Even jewelry that looked to have been part of a foreign religious figure's wardrobe was included in these treasures.

The Emperor was pleased to have shown everyone these lovely gifts.

Yet he found himself secretly cursing his own foolishness.

He should've known such gifts wouldn't put a smile on his wife's face.

Oh she accepted her gifts with grace and politeness. She even bowed a few times to express what was meant to be gratitude. Certainly, no intelligent person would assume she was a rude woman. Still, Irakly knew there was no joy in her eyes. She might give some of those luxuries to some of her favorite people, although that wasn't an uncommon practice.

So, the Emperor waved towards a servant to go and fetch the last gift, something that was never meant for Princess Tuya.

A final chest was brought in. It was made of rich dark wood with mother of pearl and silver decorations. A shiny new padlock kept the contents safe. Irakly beckoned his wife on over to the chest, and he handed her a certain key. She bowed, opened the chest, and once she realized what was inside she took some steps away.

"One of the Empress Consort's most loved diversions is the study of poisons and toxins," the Emperor proclaimed as if he was making an important announcement. "When we found new and intriguing substances that could be dangerous, there was no hesitation. They must be given to the Empress Consort."

Each portion was kept in little pouches, sometimes even ones of leather. They were arranged similarly enough to the Empress' own collection.

At this gift, Rahela turned her face away, holding her sleeve over her lips. She asked the servants to close and lock the chest, then she asked them to place it in her bedchamber. As they left with the gift, the Empress Consort turned back to the Emperor and bowed, her sparkling plaits hanging down. There were darling loops and streamers of ribbons and beads.

"I'm grateful for Your Majesty's gift," she said. "I have many entertaining hours ahead of me."

He grinned at her.

During the rest of the feast, Irakly had a special guest sit roughly near his left.

General Anisim. He'd been quite vital to Yahsin's most recent victory. The Emperor was going to grant him a bit of land that was ready for new a fresh farming settlement. That was a grand opportunity for him. He wouldn't receive a noble title, but he would still be a common type of landlord.

The General was in good spirits. Why wouldn't he be? He was at the most coveted spot in the room. He was also full of jokes and other pleasant sayings. He made the Empress Consort give the most crystal-like smile behind her sleeve. He even made Princess Tuya give bend forward to give him a look that was almost curious and not so bitter.

Glamour was abundant.

At one moment, the Emperor picked up a freshly filled cup of heated, spicy wine from a servant. He was excited about that wine because it was from his own personal collection of loot. He wanted to see if his wife's face would flush from the buzzing heat that was meant to bloom in her belly after a few cups.

Well ...

He called out to his wife and made sure she saw him personally hand the cup over to her. "Have a cup of this hot wine, Little Empress. I can't have you leave the table without taking it."

He told himself that he might not see what he wanted to see.

He might see something else.

Rahela took the cup, held it close to her nose, and took a deep inhale. One might assume that was meant to be a relaxing moment, as if she was trying to breathe in a medicine for nervousness.

Her colorful eyes pointed up, the Empress Consort's brow furrowed and her nose wiggled. She looked back down at the cup of wine. Then she held out a single finger, the tiniest one on her hand, to tap the liquid's surface with the pad. Then, ignoring her attendants' questions, she opened her lips just enough to have her tongue's tip meet the air. Then she tapped her tongue with her little finger.

The Emperor had on a smirk as he watched the woman wipe her finger with a linen cloth and say to him, "Your Majesty, you must have this cup of wine examined."

He snapped his fingers. "It will be done." He turned back to his left to look at General Anisim. "Aren't you excited to know about the examination's results?"

That General's jovial expression transformed right before the Emperor's eyes. Bright and bouncy to weak and frightened.

***

General Anisim was sitting in a chair, and not because he wanted to. His limbs were tied to the chair, and his face was slowly losing its color. The room was dark. It was one of the rooms in the Loveless Tower, but it wasn't a cell.

The Emperor himself stood before the new prisoner, a few men nearby and waiting for any command. His eyes narrowed but still holding a pleasant triumph, that Emperor folded his arms and said to that prisoner, "I'm not disappointed. I'm actually thrilled with you. Now that you've tried to poison the Empress, I have another thread to pull." He unfolded his arms and quirked up one of his shoulders. "For your own safety, you should pull with me. Who paid for your work?"

The General closed his eyes and lowered his head. His frame shuddered. The chair even rattled. "Your Majesty, concerning my crime against the Empress, I won't lie. I did arrange for poison to be mixed into her cup of wine." He sighed. "Your Majesty was clever. You never gave me any order to poison your wife, but you did pepper in tiny lying hints of possible wanting for such a thing. That turned me rash. I'd assumed even if I were caught in such an act then I'd be given a lighter sentence because of Your Majesty's perceived approval."

Patient, but still firm, Irakly interrupted with this, "I'm glad you're speaking, but you're not saying what must be said. Who's your master in this plot?"

One of General Anisim's hands twitched against the chair's armrest, the fingers too. Then he said, "If someone had enough power to convince me to risk my own life by moving against Yahsin, then that power wouldn't involve money."

An eyebrow rising, the Emperor said, "Are you claiming that you're in danger?"

"Not only myself, but my family." His voice ached then.

"You'd only be threatened by such a thing if my own protection would be useless against it."

Moving as if he wanted to laugh, but then seeming to halt the moment, the General asked, "Your Majesty, considering your lifestyle, your near constant need for exploration and conquest, what some would dare to call your lack of sight over your own home, is it difficult to know who could reach past you?"

The Emperor was the one to close his eyes at that moment.

The Empress Consort depended on him. The military power from Testoa was neutralized. She couldn't be a significant threat, although she was certainly crafty enough have someone try to poison her in order to succeed at some greater goal.

And so ... once the Empress was eliminated as a possibility ...

Irakly folded his arms again, and he bent over just a bit.

He was still hiding his eyes from the world when he gave a quiet statement.

"I'll have you banished to Testoa, where you can't be controlled by anyone against me, where you can live out your sentence in peace."

He almost trembled.

"You'll be stripped of your ranking, and you'll live as a common soldier. As for your family, I have no ill will towards them. They'll have the lands I'd rewarded you with, and if even a hint of possible calamity draws near I'll have it investigated."

He heard the prisoner gasp.

The worst thing about this was that he had no strong evidence, and honestly all of this could be a lie.

He couldn't rightly act.

***

"I have a interesting morsel to share," His Majesty told her.

She'd expected it would be something wicked.

The group, the Emperor and Empress with their retinues, had all been out riding in the hunting grounds. The weather was growing even warmer. The trees were full and lush. Butterflies and bees seemed to be feeding from a majority of the flowers. Everyone's clothing was lighter.

After a time, the Emperor had encouraged Rahela to guide her mule closer to him, and she was soon beside him. Her fingers and posture were confident, but her eyes were weak. They often were, but she thought she could hide this flaw.

Without looking to her, the Emperor said, "My previous wife, when she was pregnant, she craved leaves and plain flour."

Eyebrows almost rising, only twitching, Rahela said, "A number of physicians have assured me that some pregnant women have unreasonable cravings. However, I hadn't known of any issues concerning any of your previous wives."

His voice still as calm and positive as ever, the Emperor went on. "I still have difficulties understanding how your own cravings had been used as incitement for accusations. Mentally unstable? Unacceptable." That last word was followed by a little chuckle. It was as if there as no hint of anger in him. "I hope you weren't too low in your misery while I was gone."

"I'd never complain, My Lord," Rahela said. "I have the most enviable position here. To be your wife is a highly honorable status."

"You're one of the prettiest liars in the world, Little Bacon. Everyone here knows you've unjustly suffered."

One of Ureche's ears flicked, and she sneezed. Rahela sighed at it. Then she said, "I hope my dear mule isn't unwell. She's been sneezing quite often lately."

"And now that I have a similar thought," the Emperor said, ignoring her statement, "when I heard that many have petitioned the court to have you removed from the throne, I thought it was convenient that they'd waited until I was gone. I wonder if the reason why they hadn't tried it again was because I've expressed distaste for such a thing."