10.2

Kaeketeh was different in winter.

But Jewel was not sure if she liked how it was different.

She huffed heavily, another arduous day done in the Capital of Viznove.

As the longest night drew closer the city seemed to go still most days. Braced, her afternoon flights proved that it was not simply a withdrawal from winter cold either. But she felt a tension building. Goods were being gathered, animals slaughtered, things were roasting, food was prepared.

Haggling happened in the sparse sunny days when the ice and snow glittered to near blinding.

The violence that had plagued Kaeketeh had finally eased, although whether that was because the winter chill made it infeasible or if the efforts of Paul, Smithson, Muriel and the growing Kaeketeh guard were finally bringing peace?

Jewel did not know.

The keep’s own staff were preparing for a staggeringly vast celebration. Animals already ordered before the Countess’ death were stabled for the coming nights.

When Jewel had tried to insist on less spices the Kaeketeh cook had actually screamed at her.

“You can’t take away the solstice feast! I don’t care if you're used to eating rocks and gruel! You will have to slay and curse me before I’ll cancel the cinnamon puddings and apple pasties!”

The vehemence and determination in the old cook’s eyes had struck Jewel silent. She did not eat rocks and gruel! She just liked Dariusz’ stew! But even her hired cook master and freeman had turned against his lady in this too!

“Solstice feast in Kaeketeh is something I’d be proud to work with Bruno on! Ma loved the tarts she had as a girl here.”

And that had the matter settled, Kaeketeh Keep would be holding its usual feasts. Which were held for the rest of winter, not just on the longest night but for the entire rest of the season!

That was the strangest thing about Kaeketeh that struck Jewel.

In Rochford there was some more honeyed pig (especially after Father gained the Abbey of Silver Lady as a holding) and perhaps a bit of richer flavors over winter. But her family’s feasts were nothing so ostentatious as this!

The entire city seemed to be inhaling spices, sweet things, wine, mead, preserved fruits and fine white flour like a vast lung.

Storehouses filling to capacity.

The guilds each in a mad rush for the coming days.

Jewel as Lady and Countess of the city was of course involved.

As a newly acknowledged countess the number of people insisting she had to be seen and involved in what was apparently a many days long festival in the dead of winter?

Countless.

It all sounded far too busy!

Where was the solemnness?

Where was the striving with the voice of every member of the community and family together to brace and strengthen for winter?

The darkest night in Kaeketeh was shaping up to be more like the summer boar’s festival writ large than anything like what Jewel expected.

It all was so overwhelming!

She curled her neck to face her husband in his spot beside her midsection.

“Is this what you meant by there was so much else we could be doing over winter?”

Paul leaned back against her in their shared bedroom.

Not Bathory’s chambers.

The god botherers had been insistent that the violence and violations performed on a body and spirit there should be sealed and carefully cleansed over years.

Preferably with fire, sun and starlight.

All quite expensive work they insisted. Jewel was certain that in Valasect and Rochford rites for purification didn't cost so much silver.

Maybe it was all of the gods that needed to be involved in Kaeketeh?

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This room was a bit of a tight fit for all of them though.

Her husband was able to rescue Jewel from another spiraling snarl of thought.

“Some of it, b-”

Like he had before Paul’s voice caught just shy of actually saying her name.

“She didn't call me to attend the winter festivals until I was eight... and she ceased as soon as I told her to stop.”

He sighed and ran his fingers along her scales in a way that they had both found was soothing without triggering Jewel’s propensity for ticklishness. The trick was to avoid the belly, chest or any of the joins of her six limbs to her serpentine torso.

“But my tutors made sure I knew the courtesies and actions and the manner in which one is supposed to call a feast for the season, or ride in a winter hunt.”

Jewel nodded.

“Muriel taught me some of those matters, but when the war started most of the time was spent in bouts... and after-”

Paul laughed against her, even without looking at him with either sets of eyes Jewel would have been able to feel how he shook his head. The way his lungs puffed was a nice sound. It soothed ‘Gem’ back into that fogginess of sleep after the sharper noise had briefly woken her.

“I think I’d have been happier if I only had the one teacher, B-”

Again he hitched on even the name. Others at least tried to ward off the ire of an ill tempered spirit. But Jewel’s husband refused to ever even say her name now. Despite how often he now seemed to want too.

Bathory’s death had affected him in ways Jewel was still uncertain about.

“The woman ordered a small army of teachers to attend me throughout my life. She had me apprenticing in a dozen matters before... But after you won the war?”

Jewel shifted around so she could lower her head to look into her husband’s eyes levelly. In the dark of their room she saw his face clearly. The candles long since been put out. But it was hardly a strain to see the wetness in his eyes.

Not with the brightness of a snow covered winter under the stars outside.

The marvel of glass filled windows.

“After she declared you my betrothed, the teachers were different. That's when I learned how to manage birds. And she had me all but apprentice with each of the heads of the staff in turn.”

Jewel didn't shift, but that brought a frown.

Bathory had changed her son’s life so much, all for Jewel’s sake?

“Well, I hope that- Paul!”

He was shuddering.

The glitter of tears were suddenly on his cheeks. Still rounded softer then her brother’s.

“S-she was such a vile woman! How dare she! How d-dare-”

And that woke up Gem, but Jewel was able to have enough self control and concern for her husband to not let the distress and shock of the sound turn into her own wailing cries.

It took a supreme effort to hold the sadness and panic roiling in her chest for those brief moments when peaceful slumber and contemplation between her selves suddenly sparked and burst into wakefulness.

Paul’s voice sounded like every word he said was having to be dragged out of his throat with a hook.

But also like the very act of keeping them in was burning him up inside.

The pain Paul was in struck Jewel and she could not prevent the urge from overwhelming in a new way.

Her smallest self scrambled over her coils from the cushioning that she had fallen asleep into. Climbing near blind but for Jewel’s older eyes and the absolute assurance of her two bodies’ relative positions.

Too short arms were soon wrapping around her husband’s shuddering side.

Followed soon after by Jewel’s wing, the only limb able to reach where Paul was sprawled against her. Before she could even untangle what she wanted to say and which throat was supposed to say it he was speaking again.

“How dare she do anything right by me! How dare her awful vicious men to have done anything good for the people here!”

The words struck a note Jewel had been feeling too.

Jewel had no words to comfort him on this, she honestly felt the same. Was this what her Father had meant about the late countess?

“She taught her captains in common and noble law! Some of them were raised from orphans into the position! The captains were nobles in all but name! From Orphans to Nobles! The commoners mostly hated them, but she’d- How dare she!”

He sobbed and his hands shook.

Jewel held him, nuzzling her smallest face into his side, tiny fingers clenching hard as she could as if she could squeeze what was hurting him out.

Her left wing cradled her husband, gentle as an egg. He was fragile and delicate in the muscles, fingers and smooth skin that could flatten a dozen men by the wind they could move alone. But pressed just as firmly, just as hard as she dared for how fragile she knew his bones to be.

With overwhelming might and childish weakness Jewel tried to comfort her man.

Held him and gently rocked him as he cried.

Finally finding something to do with herself. Voice coming out in a soft hushing tone, whispering a rhyme that she had not sung in so long.

A gentle lilting tune that she had heard her Mother sing to sooth the panicking cries of an elder brother. Words and music that Jewel had then made in her Mother’s stead when Alexander needed it.

Lowering her snout to Paul’s forehead and planting a soft whispering hush and a gentle kiss.

Comforting him until his breathing evened out.

And then in the exhaustion of it all a heaviness entered his voice.

“How dare she do anything right.”

But some of the pain was missing at least.

Although she was not even sure he realized he was saying it, the way his breathing settled right after into sleep suggesting he might not.

Jewel and Gem held her Husband through the night.

Until both of her bodies relaxed into sleep.