CW:

Angry Sun Spoken, politics, and... honestly not much! Pretty mupples!

The duenna outside the Sun Spoken estate are what warn me that something is wrong, and I curse myself for not asking Lady Ophrit and Delphian to have more than a couple women watching over the cunt of a bitch while she finally got some sleep.

The two don’t recognize me at first, even step forward with hands on the hilts of their Black-glass swords as I approach. Thankfully don’t seem to consider us worthy of drawing any gemstones.

“This area is off limits to any but–”

I pull down my hood and fix them with a glare. They quiet right quick.

“What’s going on?” I demand.

What they tell me makes my fury spike into such heights I’d only felt… like… I’m not sure. Not even close to the rage when Tasii got hurt, but I'm boiling by the time Zigdara and I are storming through the estate after ordering the duenna to wait by the entrance.

I find the cunt sitting at Emarial’s beside. Just… like some worried lover waiting so diligently beside a wounded person they hold in affectionate regard and not a monster considering taking a bite from wounded prey.

“What, the fuck, do you think you’re doing here?” I growl. Working very hard to keep my voice level.

Matron Veletross is… okay she’s technically sitting but… that entire ugly red new arm she has grown is like… draped across the big sleeping Sun Spoken. Her form wrapped in a thick midnight cloak and a modest assortment of glimmering gemstone jewelry to adorn her ears and horns and even an eyebrow.

“High Duenna Inamatorii.” She glances back to give me such an unnerving grin that bares fangs I did not realize she had. Eyes twisting between green and scarlet hues. “My deepest apologies, I was unaware of any decree placed upon myself to not visit an old and dear friend.”

“Then consider this my official demand. Now, answer my question.” I spit, letting my rage show openly now.

“If I must speak the obvious truth, then here it is.” She turns to fully face us, eyes quieting to a dull and deep reddish color. “I’m here to make sure you didn’t drop our beloved Keeper into the hands of the enemy.”

I sputter out for a second, needing to keep my face blank with only a touch of anger as I ask. “Keeper?”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Ground down and Brewed Death you really are just… ignorant of everything. Aren’t you? It would be adorable if the consequences wouldn’t be so dire.”

Zigdara rolls forward a step to loom easily over the Matron. Thrumming with barely controlled fury.

As the Matron’s eyes widen and glimmer with pinpricks of violet and delight I step forward to lay a hand on Zigdara’s arm. A silent request for her to calm down and step back. “Emarial mentioned that there were dozens of shards within her, and I… I’m guessing that’s the danger here? Why you called her that? You’re worried that she would let them control of her body and mind?”

“Oh… Were she just some new and naïve Sun Spoken that might be the case but… no. Should Emarial give in to her Dreamer’s will, which she would with the things they would offer her, our lands would very likely end.” The Matron sighs.

“Because of who she would kill?” I press.

The Matron only smiles as she moves to stand, but sidesteps my question to instead say. “Emarial rests deeply and well, and shows no sign of the Dreaming that accompanies a Sun Spoken’s meetings with their Patron. It seems I underestimated your understanding of this danger and power to protect us from the threat. My apologies, High Duenna of Arudia, I simply never would have expected you to give her this gift after our… disagreement at the Obelisks.”

“You tried to slaughter her.” Zigdara growls.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

The Matron shrugs. “There was no reason to believe that she was naught but a rotting corpse just… seeking wroth and ruin. I’ve since shown my support quite openly before the Doyans and other Matrons for this Chosen of The Weaver.”

“Matron Veletross,” I urge in as soft and steady a voice as I can manage, interrupting my duenna’s fury. “I need to know what’s at stake here. I mean to protect as many people as possible and… And as much as I hate the big cunt, making sure she is stable and safe means I might need to speak with her shards. Figure out how to maybe help them.”

For the first time since Zigdara cracked the Matron across the floor beneath those Obelisks, I get to see real surprise and… and even a little fear crosses her face.

“Girl, I do not know how you tamed the shard in your head, but understand this.” Veletross hisses as those strange eyes jolt to sudden cerulean lightning. “She is most likely a soft and gentle thing compared to what drifts in Emarial’s soul. They are wickedly manipulative creatures that twisted many young and old Sun Spoken into dancing to their whims. Leave them to rot in the Driftdream between.”

“And Emarial to the lonely wastes beyond?” I shake my head and huff in open annoyance. “No reason she’s such a mess, she… she’s had to live alone in her own head for decades. Just… stewing in self-hatred and fear!”

A pause, and the Matron quirks an eyebrow in what I think is honest surprise. “You say you hate Emarial, but you’re spending quite a bit of time and energy on trying to help her.”

I can’t help but notice Zigdara sort of… turn a bit at those words. Eyes meet mine in a flicker of… well… question if not agreement.

I sigh and let even more of my tired annoyance show as I reach up to rub at the bridge of my nose. “I do not get why this is so hard for everyone to understand. Just because she is a horrid cunt doesn’t mean she’s not also a victim. And quite honestly you, of all people, should know just how much this life has cracked at her mind and soul. Worn and torn away at her like the ocean's waters at the sandstone of the Dune Wall.”

The Matron regards me for a long moment, and when I look up she seems to like… be considering something. Quiet and lost in a thought that drops her easy confidence into a nearly blank expression.

“Quite right.” She murmurs, then slowly looks back up to Zigdara. “And that reminds me… How goes your search for Lyttoral’s missing male?”

Oh…

It’s hard for me to worry about the cracks that must form in my own mask as I try to quickly recover composure, because Zigdara stiffens in such a loud and obvious way. Almost... almost seems to lean just a little bit more between me and the Matron...

“It is not something I will discuss with you.” She offers as she regains her anger.

“That makes sense, what with your current companion having easy access to the Fertility Wing and nearly boundless authority to aid in the search. My promises are so much useless Gemwaste now.” She tip-taps her lower lip as an expression of open considerations crosses her face and eyes dance amidst yellow hues. “But… She only rose to that recently. And yet… you’ve refused to leave her side but for scant moments. So, I’m curious as to your sudden protectiveness of this one, duenna of Lyttoral.”

Regaining my mask I sigh in the most tired and condescending way possible. “What are you on about, Matron? There are so many more important questions than a duenna’s passing fancy for some girl she came to the defense of.”

Veletross grins, eyes flickering up to the face of my duenna. “Is that what this is? A passing fancy that means more to you than seeking such a treasured soul stolen from your temple?”

Zigdara fights so hard to keep her face straight and composed but… her training is in protection. Not politics or lying. Neither is mine. But…

“I wonder what she’s promised you.” The Matron purrs. “What interesting deals were–”

But Yrelia taught me well how to twist a good performance from the barest truth.

“I’ll tell you.” I interrupt.

My duenna jerks to look down at me while the Matron’s eyes widen.

“Ina you–”

“Zigdara.” I cut her off. “I need you to wait in the hallway.”

The Matron tilts her head so curiously to regard me.

“I want to make a deal with you, Matron of Rell.” I offer in my most confident and resolute tone. “Information for information. Truths that could hurt me, for the truth about Emarial’s shards and Sun Spoken lore.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “And why would you do that? Why not wait for our poor Sun Spoken to wake up and tell you herself?”

“Lots of reasons. But mostly because you are old and too cunning by half.” I quirk such a polite smile to her. “And you, more than the others at the Conclave yesterday, seemed to not balk when the winds of change started rising. I’d like to keep you neutral in future conflicts I know some of the others are planning. Or better yet, have your aid in mitigating the harm of their stupidity.”

“Oh? And how would this little deal establish that?” She muses with her own smile that I know means I’ve already flattered her.

Only need to sing this final little melody and she’ll all but fall into this.

“You also know that Arudia is right fucked if they continue to push me away.” I shrug, feeling so easily Zigdara’s eyes boring into me in such worry. “And being so close you’ll have ample opportunity to take advantage. Whereas if you set yourself up as my enemy, especially as now you’ve all elected me as your High duenna, you won’t get that chance.”

She laughs then, emitting an almost youthful unnerving giggle that sets the little hairs on my arms and neck to rising. “Well spoken, I would believe those rings you wore real had it not become so apparent the reason for your deception. I accept these terms, Sun Spoken Inamatorii.”

I nod and turn to Zigdara. “Leave.”

“Ina. This isn’t–”

“Do you trust me?” I demand, voice cold and wrapped in my most cruel Hetaera performance now.

“I… Yes.” She hesitantly offers after only a moment. “I do.”

I nod. “Good. Then wait outside with the Arudian duenna.”

Zigdara just… stares down at me for a good few seconds. Trying so hard to change my mind and get answers and like… probably other things.

So I use more truth to deepen my performance for the Matron. Reach up to gently cup Zigdara’s cheek. “My duenna, I mean to keep my promises, and telling her this won’t change the Paths I mean to walk with you.”

She sputters at that, filled with both confusion and worry and… and a flustering at my soft words.

“Go. Make sure no one else comes in until we’re finished here.”

Giving her the role she so easily falls into. One of stoic and active defenders. That’s what makes her agree more than anything else, I think. My need for her to protect my secrets from others who might wander in to hear them.

So with a face relaxing to a quiet but still worried focus, my duenna turns to leave me with the Matron of the House of Rell and the still sleeping Sun Spoken.

When she’s gone, I turn to shift my mask to one of such weariness that draws so well from exhaustion of the past days and weeks and month.

“You first then?” The Matron purrs, leaning back to sit on the edge of Emarial’s bed.

I shrug. “Sure. Why not? You’d not like your new High duenna as an enemy, or your reputation smeared due to a lack of keeping a promise given.”

She tilts her head in acceptance and silent acknowledgment of my words. So I take a deep breath, and tell her the truth.

“I killed the one Zigdara’s been searching for when the Weaver claimed me.”