It was decided. Indenuel tried to muscle in as much food as he could before Adosina suggested the servants keep it for a snack later. Sara always cooked way too much.
They walked outside as Adosina wrapped a shawl around her.
“Are you cold?” Indenuel asked.
“It is a little colder today than it was yesterday. Can’t you feel it?” Adosina asked.
Indenuel tried to but found it impossible. “It’s so much colder in Mountain Pass in the autumn. Honestly, this feels like a warm spring day to me.”
“Quite the adjustment, then, as it’s approaching winter. The Day of the Devil is about three weeks away.”
It took everything inside Indenuel not to stop in his tracks. “Oh, really? That close?” He looked up at the sky, trying not to let the fear show on his face. “I have really lost track of the days.”
“Did you ever do anything for the Day of the Devil? Any traditions from the northern part of Santollia?” After his conversation with Dalius, he didn’t feel keen in sharing much about what happened during the Day of the Devil. Instead, he shook his head, his mouth dry. Adosina did not seem to notice. “We don’t do too much either. Ami makes a wonderful feast, though. A way to get us through the shortest day of the year. Our dining hall is covered in symbols of the Savior. We should invite you over, unless you have other plans.”
Indenuel didn’t realize he’d stopped walking. His palms had grown sweaty, and his breathing turned irregular. He remembered how incapacitated he was on the Day of the Devil, doing nothing but staying in bed and waiting for it to be over. He could almost hear the black whispers, taunting him, telling him of his evils and how they’d drag him to Hell when he finally died.
“I, um…” Indenuel wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Of course. If… if I don’t have any other plans that day.”
Indenuel caught Tolomon’s look out of the corner of his eye, but he said nothing. Adosina beamed at him. They walked farther as Indenuel tried to think of something to talk about. He didn’t want the conversation to remain on the Day of the Devil.
“May I ask something of a personal manner?” Indenuel asked.
“You have my permission to ask. Whether I answer depends on the question.”
A breeze picked up, nice and comforting, but caused Adosina to give a shiver as she pulled the shawl closer around her. He didn’t know how to start the question, so he figured he’d say what was on his mind. “Inessa?” The change was immediate. The beaming, jovial nature dropped from Adosina’s face. “Is she usually treated like she doesn’t exist in your household?”
It was her turn to stop walking. She focused most of her attention on a sunflower before she turned toward Indenuel with a dignified yet humble air. “You are fair to question our reaction toward her. Api was the only High Elder to disagree with the concubine law, but he also never stood in its way, either, despite Ami’s pleadings.” Adosina’s gaze dropped briefly, as did the volume of her voice. “He could have stopped it. He had that right and the power to, but he didn’t. He simply requested to not take on concubines. Which clearly didn’t work, because Inessa was given to him.” She remained quiet, and Indenuel did nothing to change the subject. This was something he needed to know. “It is wrong of us – of me – to treat the poor girl like this. We all know it. Part of it is our fear of upsetting Ami. We simply dislike what she represents. Of what my father could have stopped but didn’t.”
“Does she always look that miserable?” Indenuel asked.
Adosina winced and looked away. “No. Not until she came to our home.”
“Seems she, too, could use some kindness.”
The shawl loosened around her shoulders. “Seems like it, yes.” Adosina kept walking, and he followed. “It’s difficult, knowing what she must do every month. With my father.”
“You still love your father, though?” Indenuel asked.
“Well, yes.”
“But yet you show no love toward a girl who was once your friend?”
Adosina paused before looking away. “You’re right. It is rather hypocritical.”
He looked up at the sky, figuring it was now about lunchtime. He wasn’t hungry in the slightest, more frustrated the conversation with the High Elders was taking so long. He needed to practice his sword, not play this political game. He would remain the Warrior, whether they decided he did the right thing healing the Oraminians. It wasn’t that long ago when no one in this city knew who he was or cared about his situation.
“Why didn’t Martin stop the concubine law?” Indenuel asked. “Surely he would have known something like this would have crept up.”
Adosina shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me. And he wouldn’t tell Ami either. Despite her begging, he said this was necessary. Yes, poverty was getting out of hand, but there had to be another way. My father has made it his life goal to help the poor with free schools and education. Has tried with everything in his power to help them do what they can to pull themselves out of their troubles, and yet he agreed to this law. I do not understand it.”
Indenuel nodded, looking at the marigolds as he passed them. Many things the High Elders did seemed strange to him.
“Though, maybe it shouldn’t surprise me,” Adosina said quietly. “Despite everything he does for the poor, he still thinks they are separate from us.”
“What do you mean?” Indenuel asked.
She sighed, straightening her dress. “This is not widely known, but I must tell you that the man I intend to marry is in a much lower class than myself.”
There was surprise at this revelation, but also a relief. Relief that they would only be friends. “Oh?”
“Elias, son of Raul and Emma. He lives in the city but works in the farms outside the wall. We met a few years ago while my father was doing one of his many visits to the poor.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Once the surprise and relief had gone, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted about it all. “And you don’t marry him because…” he waited for her to answer the question.
“Because I can’t. Not without my parents blessing. Marrying him would also take my titles away, and I would share his. Sometimes my parents act as though they are doing everything they can to save the poor, yet still treat them like a different nationality. They are trying way too hard to protect me.”
“They’re right,” he found himself blurting out. “They should protect you.”
For the first time since he knew her, her smile disappeared, and she had a more neutral look. “Pardon?”
He felt embarrassed, doing his best not to look like an idiot. “It’s just… you’ve never… I don’t…”
“Indenuel,” she said carefully. “I still only see you as a dear friend and I-”
“Oh, God no. No, no, I agree. Friends. I just… I mean you’ve seen me. You’ve seen how horribly I’m adjusting to this life. A life of luxury. Everything I do feels like a waste. Eating food I’ll never finish, wearing clothes only once, spending barely any time in a house that could hold a hundred people. I was desperately poor not that long ago. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
The first signs of a frown tugged at Adosina’s mouth. “Elias isn’t that poor.”
“But if marrying him will strip you of your titles and your wealth, you…” He gave a sigh, not sure how best to put this. “Do you honestly think you can wear the same two dresses for the rest of your life? Never see your tailor again? Be the only one cooking for your husband instead of ordering servants around? Working? On a farm? Day in and day out? Not having servants help you with your children? Become invisible to everyone else in society?” His voice caught at the end in a way he didn’t expect it to. Adosina still had the frown on her face as she looked at him. “You better really, really love him.”
Adosina did her best to wrestle the mask of dignity back on her face. “Well, I shall certainly take to heart what you have said.”
He winced. Something shifted between the two of them. Adosina must actually love this man. He doubted what he said would have made a difference to her relationship with this man, other than make her wearier.
Pablo opened the back door and walked toward them. He held a letter in his hand. Adosina gasped. “That might be it. They must have come to a decision!”
Pablo handed the letter to Indenuel, who opened it quickly.
We, the High Elders, have found Indenuel to be free of guilt for his actions yesterday.
Adosina’s smile returned. “Api fought them! I knew he’d do it!”
Indenuel nodded absently. He should be excited about all this, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Deep down, he didn’t understand why the High Elder’s needed to affirm to him what he already knew. He didn’t do anything wrong yesterday.
***
Inessa sat in her chair at the theater next to Martin. Well, not right next to him, but close enough to show her position. They were celebrating the High Elders decision by seeing a play. She kept looking forward, hands in her lap, doing everything in her power to look like the obedient concubine she was supposed to be. Once again Martin’s body language reflected his true feelings. He was as far away from Inessa as he could be sitting in his chair. He held Sara’s hand with both of his own with more of his back toward Inessa. All his attention was given to Sara as she made a quiet comment about an actor’s ability and Martin agreed to it whole heartedly.
They were watching a tragic play, which seemed ironic with the happy decision of the High Elders. Inessa didn’t exactly like watching them. They seemed far too dramatic for her taste. The main actor was about to make his first move to take down his political rival when the second act ended. They clapped as the curtains came down for the brief intermission. Martin and Sara stood together as a few people came to their box in the theater to talk to them. Inessa sat in her chair, looking at her hands, waiting for the play to begin again. There was still enough light in the sky to see with.
There was a shuffling, and she looked to see Adosina walking toward her. Inessa waited for her to move past, possibly to talk to the servant. It was something she would do. Adosina always got to know the servants.
It was far more surprising, then, when Adosina stopped beside Inessa’s chair and smiled. Inessa hesitated, long enough to make sure this wasn’t a necessary acknowledgement before heading toward the servant. “Hello, Inessa.”
Inessa stood up, straightening her beige dress, giving the tiniest glance in Sara’s direction before focusing on her again. “Yes, um, hello.”
“Interesting play, no?” Adosina asked before taking a sip of her wine.
“I’ve seen it before a few years ago, but I think I’m enjoying it more this time around. As much as one can enjoy a tragedy.”
Adosina smiled, her face toward the stage and not toward Inessa at all. “What was it like growing up for you?”
She stared at her, confused. Even as friends, Adosina didn’t ask too many questions about her life growing up.
“It was…” she blinked a few times, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t give her a shock. “It was fine.”
Adosina changed her focus from the stage to her, studying her carefully. “Fine?”
“Yeah. You know… there were only a few nights of the year I would go to bed hungry. We were lucky that way.”
“Was it lucky?” Adosina’s voice had a faraway quality to it.
Lucky my mother knew the kind of women the local law enforcement officers enjoyed so we never got in trouble. Inessa bit her tongue to keep from saying it. “It was, yes. The concubine law has certainly helped my family to never go to bed hungry ever again, and I am grateful for it.” In a way, what she said was true. Her younger siblings would never experience what she had to. Not to the extent of begging on the streets or stealing from personal gardens.
Adosina said nothing, though she did nod. Something troubled her, but if she wanted Inessa to know, she would tell her. “That lavender color is simply stunning. Both this one and the pink one you wore earlier.”
She smiled and gave a half twirl. “Have you met Tima? She’s relatively new to the city. I’m helping her out with the loan she took out on the building, hoping she can make a living here. Honestly, her work will take off, I just know it.”
“It should. The design is exquisite,” Inessa said.
“We should go shopping there sometime!”
“Does she make dresses for…” Inessa trailed off. It had almost felt like the old days when they were friends. Back when they could talk about anything without it getting awkward.
The smile on her face barely faltered. “I can ask her if you’d like.”
“A lot of tailors find these dresses come with too many rules attached, so this is all we’re given.” Inessa played with the ridiculously high collar of the dress. It always itched. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, though. I really do appreciate this law.” Her eyes nervously flitted toward Martin, but he was still chatting with other visitors.
“Maybe we can go shopping later this week. It’s been a while since we’ve done that. The day before Sabbath worship?”
Inessa stared at her, feeling confused. “Addy.” Again, she glanced at Martin.
“I’m trying to say sorry,” Adosina said, looking down. “I had no right to treat you like I did.”
“It’s an awkward position to be in.” Inessa now did everything in her power to not look at Martin.
“It shouldn’t have mattered. You’ve been miserable ever since you’ve come to live with us, and I know it’s because I’ve stopped being the kind of friend I should,” Adosina said.
“No, Addy, please. Don’t place that on yourself.” It was the thing she needed to say, but in truth Inessa would have said anything to get some sort of friendship back. Her thoughts never turned as bleak as the first week as a concubine, but she didn’t enjoy it, either. She was lonely, the kind of loneliness she had been used to as a child. Surrounded by people, always alone.
The orchestra started up again, and Adosina smiled at Inessa, gripping her hand. “Then it is decided. Tomorrow, mother and I will be out making house calls for most of the morning, but I will arrange for Tima to schedule us in for a fitting on the sixth day of the week.”
Inessa nodded. “I’d like that.”
Adosina smiled again before walking back to her chair, patting Martin’s arm as he passed. Inessa hadn’t realized he had headed toward them. He walked toward her chair, and she waited for him to sit, as was custom. Martin made the tiniest nod of acknowledgement in her direction and motioned for her to sit down. She did so. He never acknowledged Inessa in front of Sara. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but with Adosina coming to talk to her? It was strange, but she allowed herself this once to feel hopeful.