"May Fortune's favor find you, Miss Evangeline. How does the day meet you? Is it treating you kindly?"
Eva’s polite smile took a note of tension. Her interactions with Yasir had been brief. The man came from the Golden Sands, a place halfway across the world and ruled by maidens. Were the merchant openly greedy, Eva would’ve known exactly what to do. Her life as Evans had seen no shortage of people looking for gold or power. But even though Yasir was a merchant, there was nothing but an open door to any who knocked, especially if they were related to Rick. It left her feeling uncertain, not because she believed he was being dishonest but precisely because of his naked honesty.
“I find myself in good spirits, sir,” she responded, sticking to protocols or propriety. A maiden was to address a human with respect.
Yasir’s smile faltered ever so slightly, the gesture rippling across his well trimmed lustrous black beard. “Now now, please, Rick has provided a great deal of boons to me and my family. It would be a disservice to insist on formality from one of his wives.”
She sucked air sharply, cheeks gaining a layer of warmth. “I am not his wife.”
The man chuckled amicably. “You must excuse me for the assumption, the ways of my people are not as strict as those found here.”
Indeed he was right. The people of the Golden Sands had caught her interest during her formative years. Their holistic approach towards enchanting design had fascinated her. It was through this interest that she’d learnt of their ways, it had come out as a disappointment to learn how little say humans had in their everyday lives. In the culture of Yasir’s people, it was the maidens who ruled the abode as if a council.
“You are an honored guest within my abode all the same.” Yasir bowed once more, gesturing for her to follow inside. “Lady Dia’s request has been fulfilled; my dearest Ahina has found it quite challenging.”
Eva nearly corrected him, Dia was no lady. But in this she couldn’t bring herself to voice the opinion. The healer had all but the golden collar needed to mark her status. The only reason anyone in the city believed it was Kiara who was the “official” partner was because they believed her to be human.
“How is your family?” She asked.
“Fortune has graced us once more. None were harmed during the attack.” He absently smoothed his beard, closing the door and leading her further inside. “The weaver-den being lost to the flames was a mildling price to pay for such luck. It has given my cherished one the opportunity to teach some of the trade to our children.”
“Any of them Spinners?”
“Humans one and all.” His chest rumbled with a good-mannered chuckle. “Unless one of them is graced with a thickening of their blood, then they will have to learn the trade of coin rather than their mother’s craftsmanship.”
Her polite smile faltered.
“Forgive me,” Yasir hastened to speak. “I am aware not all find the notion to be as much of a blessing as my people do.”
No, of course they wouldn’t. A human becoming a maiden was a tragedy, not something to be celebrated. Again, Eva held her tongue. She hadn’t come here to exchange cultural notions and debate. “Think nothing of it,” she answered in turn. “I merely hope that Miss Dia’s request hasn’t caused any inconveniences.”
“It was a trifle, nothing more.” Yasir’s enthusiastic demeanor was right back. “My beloved found the design to be an inspiring one. I suspect she might even seek out Rick to speak further of the fashions of his world.”
Eva nodded slightly, not adding to the statement. Dia hadn’t told her what sort of clothes she’d commissioned, nor for what purpose. But she could guess that this was part of that “favor” the healer had mentioned.
"Do you harbor any preferences for refreshments? I've been given to understand that non-vegetable milk and tea might be compatible with a Fledgling’s unique needs, but I confess I am not an authority on the matter."
Her eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "You have fresh milk?"
"A delightful Cowgirl resides just a few houses down, and she had some surplus. I will have it ready in a moment." Yasir's smile expanded subtly, pleased at her surprise. He approached the common room, slowing his steps and giving her a cautious look. "A word of caution. My wife, if nothing else, is zealous in regards to her craft." He offered her a teasing wink. "She can become anxious in these matters, do not begrudge her for it.” He bowed with flourish. "I'll be back shortly."
The door clicked shut, and Eva was left on her own.
The room was voluminous for a house of this size, but what immediately caught her attention was the furniture that’d been stacked and affixed neatly to the high ceiling. Threads of silk firmly secured everything out of the way, adding an odd dimensionality to the available space. Eva's stride faltered as her gaze collided with Ahina, the Spinner.
Spinners were easy to identify by the four large spider-like limbs protruding from their back. Ahina’s were tipped like spears and a pure chitinous black, with yellow rings marking the joins. They contrasted with the matron’s already naturally dark complexion, the woman clearly a fellow of the Golden Sands.
“This one greets the Lord’s left hand,” her words were spoken while not looking directly at her, bowing her head and affixing her gaze to Eva’s left shoulder. “We shall proceed with the measurements.”
Swallowing the rising apprehension, Eva stepped closer. "Might I glimpse the garments first?"
"They are not finished.” The words carried finality to them. With her four spider appendages she brought up several thin lengths of silk rope.
The Fledgling forced herself to swallow again; the knot in her throat was stubborn. She extended her arms. "Very well."
Ahina responded with a flat gaze. "The clothes are meant to be worn on their own." She pointed at Eva's ensemble of pants, cape, and shirt, her gesture sharp and exact.
With a grimace, she nodded. "...Understood."
Eva carefully unclasped her cape, pausing a moment to check the room one more time. Assured of their isolation, she set about removing her outermost garments, carefully folding them and setting them aside. Reduced to mere breeches and the chest wraps, she suppressed a shiver, the air in the room a chilly touch against her skin.
A moment of silence followed, with miss Ahina’s finger not having moved an inch.
“...my undergarments as well?” Eva hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What sort of clothes are these?” She insisted, hands idly protecting her remaining protection.
No answer was forthcoming, only those steely copper eyes. Eva grumbled internally, it wasn’t like she could just leave, this had been a favor. They were alone as well, this shouldn’t bother her. She was a maiden. She had to ‘suck it up.’ With a grimace, she slowly unwrapped her modest chest and removed her breeches. Though she attempted to ignore the reality of her nakedness, the embarrassment burned against her cheeks all the same.
This was, perhaps, one of the hurdles she would never truly be able to overcome.
For a maiden to be naked was the peak of practicality. Clothes were neither cheap or easy to make, and a maiden would be comfortable wearing anything save in extreme weather. Similarly, only the most durable of clothes could survive any battle, let alone compare to a maiden’s own natural defenses. This, at least, was the argument many feralborn would provide for their frequent state of undress.
Eva had grown up as a human, a noble at that. Clothes were an expression of status and were a tool to reflect one’s own preferences. She’d never been one to follow the trends of the capital, nor had she considered herself gaudy in any degree. But she’d still insist on pants and long sleeved shirts when given the choice.
Now, standing here naked, she wondered whether these were thoughts the others shared. Monica would eschew clothes in a heartbeat if given the chance. Similarly, Urtha would only put on whatever happened to be at hand. Kiara was one who always took to impractically long dresses. And Dia would take simpler things that mimicked the healer uniforms worn in medical centers with their shin-length skirts. None of them ever commented on her own choice of attire, but surely they’d hold thoughts on the matter?
She’d known of nobles who’d personally design the uniforms of those they owned, Rick clearly was the opposite of this, uncaring for who wore what. Or maybe it was purely due to the lack of availability of clothes from his world? Was that why Dia had sent her here?
“Hm… you are more petite than Miss Dia had suggested.”
Ahina’s voice snapped Eva out of the reverie, cool hand pulling out a length of silk and quickly wrapping it around several points on her chest. The smooth, cool touch was gone before she could react, and in its wake the Fledgling was left pulling her hands up against her chest.
Indignation burned in her face. “Am I to stand mockery as well?”
“Be still,” was the simple retort. Ahina’s quartet of extra limbs were spinning thread and weaving it around her. Every time it would tighten, chafing against her skin, and immediately release, leaving behind a flushed heat.
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As soon as it began it was over, and Eva let out a sigh of relief.
One Ahina mirrored.
The older matron pulled away, gracefully pulling a dreadlock out of her face and moving deeper into the room. She took a coal-stick and drew lines on her threads, most likely the measurements. “A trim body,” she mused to herself. “The adjustments will be minimal. It should not take much to make the gown properly fitted.”
“Gown?” The word slipped from Eva's lips as she hastily dressed back up.
Her question hovered unanswered in the dimly lit room. The matron had retreated through the door and disappeared deeper into the house. Within seconds, another door opened, and Yasir glided in, smiling warmly with a twinkle in his eyes. “I trust things have gone well?” he asked with a disarming soft voice, comfort oozing out of his every gesture as he placed a tray on a nearby chair. "Apologies for the meal's humbleness. I've procured as many options as I could, pick whatever you’d prefer."
Caught in a moment of reflection, Eva lingered, her gaze fixed on the door through which Ahina had vanished. "She mentioned a gown, didn't she?" A hint of unease hitched a ride on her words.
"Indeed, Miss Dia unveiled a collection of traditional attires from the Lord's homeland." He emitted a slight cough, a tell-tale sign of discomfort as he averted his gaze. "She suggested that you'd be looking to dazzle him?"
Eva straightened, a jolt running down her spine. The maiden waged war against the heat that was searing its way into her cheeks, looking the other way. Her hands quickly reached up to rub against them, trying to urge the blood to go anywhere else. Ever since that night she hadn’t been able to meet his eyes, and now this. Why must her body betray her in such a way? She’d been married! Granted, it’d been one of convenience, but surely she should’ve been able to control herself better than this. She wasn’t some hot-blooded teen!
“This is very uncomfortable.” She proclaimed in an attempt to break the silence, if just to keep it from getting more awkward.
“Seeing the company Rick has, it is without doubt that your heart is quite audacious.” Yasir chuckled good-naturedly.
“Glutinous, more like.” She shifted, glancing at the platter and taking the mug of warm milk-tea. Her fingers caressed the wood. “I can’t think of anything else that would draw me to him. Nothing but his…” she sighed.
“Blood?” Yasir offered.
Eva didn’t answer, pulling the mug up and tentatively sniffing it.
One of the first lessons she’d learnt was that, as a Fledgling, her body would violently reject a great deal of things she’d once found palatable. The heaviest blow had been getting sick out of eating some bread. So anything new she tried, she’d do so slowly and tentatively, so as to avoid her stomach from staging a coup once more.
A small sip traveled down her throat, its taste echoing something from her past. She was certain she had tasted something like it a few winters ago. Yet, as the liquid settled within her, it failed to evoke the soothing warmth she anticipated. Her tongue felt as if detached, it identified the mingling of milk and tea in her mouth, but failed to convey any emotion. It was as if it had made an analysis of a flavor profile rather than genuinely experiencing it.
"May I interest you in the musings of a humble merchant?" Yasir queried, taking a seat opposite to her, leaving the platter of food between them. "It appears, from my perspective, that your heart perceives him in the manner a human’s might a maiden."
The proposition was met with a dismissive scoff from Eva. "Such a notion is ludicrous," she retorted sharply, devoid of hesitation. "While I concede my situation is unconventional, I am certainly not gripped by delusions. What makes you think such a wild conjecture?"
"Merely an observation, Miss Evangeline, that you only ever seem at ease when in his presence," he said, his gaze wandering toward the distant door. "I often find a comforting sense of safety when in close proximity to my cherished Ahina. Perhaps you find a familiarity in this?"
Her eyes widened just a fraction. Eva’s first instinct was to deny it of course, but she stopped and pondered, looking back. How often had he put obstructions to the tribe to keep them from going after her? More than a few still held very strong opinions about the Vampires, and Eva by extension. And it was no secret Dia and Monica had held nothing but contempt for her throughout many weeks after the events of that night.
Did she really feel safer with him? Her mind supplied one more fact, of a beach and waves and- “T-That's not an accurate representation," she deflected hastily, turning her gaze away. Her hand unconsciously fluttered to her cheek, feeling the unsettling warmth that had taken residence there and refused to leave.
"My mistake, then." He apologized, but his voice resonated with unmasked mirth. "Is the milk to your liking?"
"It... does not instigate any discomfort," she admitted, her hand encircling the mug once more, the roughness of the wood grounding her scattered thoughts. As she took another sip, her mind wrestled with numerous things. Questions upon questions. "Might you have an inkling of what Rick's thoughts regarding this situation are?"
"His lordship guards his heart closely, but..." He trailed off, intentionally allowing the silence to stretch, baiting her curiosity. Yasir's laughter filled the room when she pivoted to face him fully. "I beg your pardon for my jest. If you seek my insights, I would advise you to look at his hands."
"His hands?" Eva blinked repeatedly. “I guess there is something of interest there. They are smooth like a noble’s, are you referring to that?”
“Though I agree, I meant to focus on where his hands are, and what they are doing,” Yasir said. "His words may be chosen with caution, but his actions are rather eloquent. If he delegates a task, it is an expression of his trust in the person's abilities," he explained as he rose from his seat, dusting off his garments. "In my years as a merchant, I have noted that such individuals lean towards the language of unspoken gestures. A firm handshake, a reassuring pat on the shoulder, or a gentle touch. If he speaks with someone but his hand is upon another’s shoulder, then it is surely a sign of where his thoughts truly lay." He shook his head while picking up the serving platter. "But, undoubtedly, your insight into these matters would surpass mine. You have spent much longer with him, after all."
"What does that mean?" she asked, voice hitching a note higher.
"Merely nothing," came the whimsical retort, the man standing up and heading for the door. “I will be back briefly.”
Exactly three steps after he’d closed the door, Ahina’s opened. Eva was sure this was some kind of custom at this point. “Why do you two do that?”
“Human business and maiden business are not to be mixed,” the Spinner answered firmly, closing the door behind her. Her hands were gingerly cradling a wooden tray, its cargo containing a concerningly small amount of fabric.
“Is that…?” Despite herself, Eva wished the content was merely the undergarments. It would certainly be better than the alternative.
Ahina didn’t answer, putting down the tray and turning her focus to a particular item she’d brought. A piece of metal that appeared like a ladle that’d been flattened. Eva focused on it as well, wondering what such a tool would be meant to be for. That is, until she noticed a glimmer of light upon it.
“This was a present from the Lord,” the Spinner’s voice was sharp, almost a threat as she turned to her. “I would insist that you keep this a secret. We’ve yet to perfect the process.”
An uncomfortable knot formed in Eva's throat, an unvoiced question burrowing its way into her. When had Rick done this? It was only recently that she’d been keeping some distance from him. “I won’t tell anyone,” she reassured.
“Good.” With a modicum of satisfaction Ahina stepped closer and presented the piece to Eva. “We would like to convey our gratitude to the Lord’s generosity if possible.”
Eva was deaf to the words, eyes widening at the realization of what she was being shown. It was a mirror, a perfect mirror, it contained a clarity to its image that could only be compared by something made through hours of meticulously laid enchantments followed by regular upkeep. Evans Bavtha had looked at himself through such objects, and thus Evangeline had known the face she’d once worn quite well.
It was the reason why her first reaction was to deny what she saw there, what she knew to be her own face.
She’d seen glimpses of it, in muddled water or in the dark reflections of the glass inside the fortress. Always a pale shape with red eyes and long black hair, but she’d never bothered to look closer.
And now there it was: Evangeline’s face.
The very first thought that emerged was that she had her mother’s cheekbones, high and sculpted to make glaring down at others all the easier. She could recognize other features from her family, the way her brow could arch with the same exactitude as a piece of architecture. Or how her lips could so easily curl, leaving her neutral face appearing half-way into a bout of disdain.
If she looked closer, she could find some of the monster, the one who’d taken everything from her. The way her nose followed a straight bridge, the way her fangs peeked over her lower lip, the near predatorial austere allure in her jawline, the ebony locks and frosty porcelain skin. But there was something entirely new there, something that shattered the nobility of her features, something that she did not know the origin of and that was entirely her own: her eyes. She had large eyes, almond-shaped and expressive. They were not the color of blood but rather of rubies, shimmering and deep, transparent. They were pools that were meant for another to look into and lose themselves in. Such eyes were meant to gaze up at someone, they were delicate, vulnerable, a glass that might shatter at any moment.
The maiden scrutinized the dichotomy. Was this the face Rick had been looking at? Was this the reason he’d held her so close? The memory of the scarred lips brought a fresh wave of color to her cheeks, despite her paleness, her face gained color easily. Eva quickly returned the mirror to the Spinner, uncertain why she’d been given this object.
“That…”
“Is you,” came Ahina’s soft murmur.
Eva slowly nodded, trying to bring herself to acknowledge the fact, but still feeling as if she were out at sea on a boat trapped in a storm. Her eyes moved to the Spinner. "You appear… I…" Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she sought any words to break the silence. "By what method is this mirror crafted?"
“The acid the Lord produces is mixed with silver, and a few other ingredients. When left to settle on glass, this is the result,” she disclosed, releasing a soft sigh and shifting her shoulders to ease some of the tension there. “To hear of one’s beauty from another is an experience entirely different to witnessing it with such clarity.” There was amusement in her tone, a small smile on her lips. “My husband has not allowed me rest from this fact.”
“It’s sure to become popular,” Eva commented, trying to fathom some insight into the item, but unable to properly escape the thoughts of what she’d seen there.
“We think as much, especially when it will cost less than most available variants,” Ahina agreed.
Both maidens glanced at the wooden tray and the bundle of cloth therein. Eva noted that the Spinner was making a point not to bring up the subject and instead wait her out. “So those clothes-”
“Will surely help to draw the Lord’s attention,” the maiden answered brusquely, her smile slightly bashful.
Confronted by Ahina's penetrating, copper-toned gaze, Eva found herself swallowing hard once more before managing a nod. Her curiosity led her eyes to descend to the tray being offered. Upon seeing the contents, a fresh rush of heat ignited her cheeks, their glow rivaling that of the fiercest smithy.
“There’s almost nothing there!” Her voice came out in a shrill screech.
“I can assure its efficacy,” Ahina responded, an unusual solemnity accompanying her words. Her dark complexion betrayed a slight deepening to the coloration of her own face.
“This must be some kind of odd undergarment, surely?” Eva appealed, her voice laced with desperation.
“Oh no, the undergarments are…” she coughed. “They are there.”
“You cannot be…” She fought against every instinct and pulled the pieces of clothing upwards. Underneath she discovered a pile of red string. “No.” She gasped in horror.
"Miss Dia was explicit in her instruction that this is a unique attire, akin to those worn by inhabitants of the Lord’s homeworld during public festivities." the Spinner’s voice faltered, averting her gaze. "It makes one imagine that the women of the Lord’s world are undoubtedly… courageous.”
It was then that realization struck.
The reason behind Dia’s fervent promises of “giving her an opportunity.”
Of the lengths the healer was going to arrange all of this.
There was just one possible answer.
This had to be some form of revenge.