Responsibility Ch. 30

Ordinarily, nothing much would be thought of victories against those, for they were as common as soil. The fact that the Empress Consort had been born in Testoa, however, turned the victory into a chance for celebration. His Majesty wanted a little feast but still with plenty of splendor.

The most beloved entertainer of the night was Jester Leran. He had most people forgetting about the others. Alone on the floor, he provided a strange show of lights, rainbow-like sparks bursting from his fingers. These lights didn't seem to fall anywhere. Instead, they faded in the air after a short moment or so. Even the Empress Consort applauded that display. Unfortunately, the miserable Princess Tuya didn't have much of a reaction. So he has tricks? Who cares for that? Nothing to grin about.

The Emperor himself told Jester Leran if he still had the energy then he should play an instrument for them. That was fair, or so the Jester claimed. He bowed and slid his flute out, while everyone politely quieted down. There was a lovely tune, a happy but almost lonely tune. Could one be happy and lonesome at once? Perhaps there was a hint of hope there, and that was what lightened the song. Nobody but the Jester could rightly say.

When the song was finished and the Jester bowed again, the Emperor was so delighted that he demanded Leran be rewarded with a palm's worth of copper coins and a single egg tart. However, Jester Leran turned to the Emperor, bowed once more, and said, "While His Majesty's reward is a grand honor, my current desire is to retire for the evening. Might I be pitied and given that other reward?"

With a bemused smile, the Emperor told him he was dismissed, but he'd lose any more opportunities to impress anyone at the feast. Apparently content, Jester Leran left the floor and even left the dining hall, all while some still gave him approving looks as if they'd wanted him to perform again.

Even when the night was old, even when people were sleepily waddling off to their bedchambers and rooms, even when passing servants yawned into their sleeves and rubbed their eyes, Jester Leran was in one of the hallways, facing a window.

That aging night was what he was looking at, or that's what was assumed. Many people commented on this, although they typically did so with hushed tones. Some servants other performers, approached and asked, usually in a friendly way, what was so interesting out there.

"The night's so beautiful," Leran would often say. If not, he'd say, "I'm admiring the world in the dark."

Well, he was an artist, and the best artists tended to have the strangest behaviors or beliefs. That was what one other jester had said about the situation.

***

"So Little Empress, do you have any suspicions concerning that tall Jester?"

That was what His Majesty whispered right at Rahela's ear as they laid together in his bed, the curtains open but with nobody else around. Their bodies were bare with a bundled and almost forgotten blanket at their feet. His front was at her back, giving a warmth that wasn't needed. The air was thick.

"He's amusing," Rahela admitted as she bent one of her legs and then stretched it out. "I do wonder if anyone's controlling him, but I can't find any threads tied to him. No family. No allies. Some adore him. Some find him to be quite irritating. He doesn't often respond with much emotion. He only performs his duties and continues as if the world bores him."

One of the Emperor's hands slid down her side. It tingled. "I disagree. He gazes out windows with a great intensity, and he's asked of your affairs. The world doesn't bore him."

"My Lord is correct," Rahela practically sighed out. "My eyes must have been weak."

"Weak or not, they're beautiful." He growled the word beautiful out. It had Rahela resisting a shiver in her belly. She even shuffled a bit, pulling her backside a couple of inches away from him. This displaced his hand, but it quickly returned, and the fingertips even grazed her hip. She jolted at that. "Ah? I know I haven't harmed you, but here you've flinched. Are you in pain?"

Rahela folded her arms against her bosom, feeling her nipples constrict, and she disliked it.

His voice softened. "I'll remind you of the hateful reality. Once I leave again, you'll have true pain."

His fingers bent on her flesh. His nails rested there.

Rahela couldn't think of what she was meant to say, so she chose something innocent and honorable. "My greatest joy in life is to work in my role, that of your wife and your representative. Even if the gods frown, and you do not return from your campaign, I will endure all the consequences with pride."

"Hmmm."

That humming noise sounded dangerous.

Rahela couldn't resist it anymore. She was shivering. It wasn't only her belly. Her whole body was shaking. She tried to move herself away even more, trying to hide that reaction, but that was futile. Her husband put his arms around her.

"Rahela, if you can't destroy your enemies and minimize your pain, then what sort of Empress could you be to me?"

Nausea came then.

She managed, even swallowed her feelings down.

***