Chapter 17 – Swords and Slippers
The next day, Araxis and I happened to meet up in the training rooms (there was going to be a lot of happenstance these first few days).
We warmed up together and engaged in some light dancing sequences, familiar and easy.
He complimented me on my form and offered corrections to a few of my stances, coming to stand behind me and shifting my arms, my wrists, my hips.
The bastard was using my own tricks, and I didn't even need to pretend to be charmed.
Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised that our plan, even in its infancy, was working, but I was still almost at a loss for words when I sat down for my daily interview and Sky Pebble, the brown ketaari whose role he had described worryingly as story editor, but I hope you think of me as a friend, asked me to tell him a bit more about my thoughts – "and feelings" – about Araxis of Creche Thiel.
"Well, I just met him," I said, trying not to look at the camera and to instead look at Sky Pebble. That's what they'd told us to do. But what I said was immediately undercut, I knew, by the fact that I started to blush. At least it would look like I was easily flustered, not like I was lying.
"And…" prompted Sky Pebble. When I was quiet, he added, "You looked pretty cozy in the training room today. Tell me about your impression of Araxis of Creche Thiel."
I shifted a little. This was part of the game.
"Araxis really helped me out at the mixer.
He sort of came to my rescue. And obviously, he's gorgeous – anyone with eyes can see that, and anyone without will just have to take my word for it – but he's also been really kind to me here.
He didn't have to offer to train with me.
I was worried that when I came to the village, I'd be lonely.
I'm not used to being alone, and I couldn't imagine anyone would want to socialize here.
But Araxis… Well, I didn't expect someone like him to notice me.
I'm glad he did. I like him. Are you sure we can't pivot and turn this into a dating show? "
Behind the camera, Sky Pebble laughed, beaming in that ketaari way that looked almost like a grimace. "Would you like to know what he said about you?"
I nodded, although I could imagine.
"He said that you're far too lovely to be stuck in a place like this, and that he hopes he'll be able to spend more time with you."
"Stuck in a place like this?" I repeated, shooting Sky Pebble a crooked smile.
"I don't know, I haven't found the accommodations too bad.
I mean, I'd look even better if there were more gold finishes.
All the white washes me out. So if there's anyone watching with a gold space palace," I let myself glance at the camera, still grinning, "Please reach out. "
Sky Pebble laughed again. He laughed easily. It was a tactic I knew well: make your client comfortable and they'll open up like a well-thumbed book. But it went both ways, so I added, leaning forward a little, "You wouldn't happen to know if Araxis has a space palace, would you?"
Easy.
Later that day, Araxis and I happened to meet in the kitchen while I was making tea for myself before heading to bed at my scheduled bedtime (Silver Sea had helpfully sent me a message reminding me that I required many hours of sleep and that we were filming footage tomorrow for our official video intros for the Tournament; she had also helpfully reminded me that all the media I could ever want would still be there in the morning – I didn't need to watch it in one go).
I glanced up when he stepped into the room, like Andiri – the other abayan contestant, who was tucked into a corner and hunched over a bowl of what looked to be inedible sludge – did, except that unlike Andiri, I smiled.
"Do you want some?" I asked, gesturing to the teapot sitting on the counter.
"It's expensive. We've got to take the conglomerate for everything they're worth, right? "
Araxis drew next to me in the kitchen, plucking the box with the loose tea from my hand and examining the label. The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Hm, yes, I can see that this might seriously affect their profits for this season."
"Exactly," I said, tapping the ingredients label. "Mountain spearflower. That's, like, ten credits a bunch. They should have thought twice before stocking this kitchen."
He trilled and agreed to sample the tea, and I tried my hardest not to look too besotted.
Across the room, Andiri pushed her bowl aside with a clatter and slunk out the nearest door, leaving the two of us alone.
I looked after her retreating form and shot Araxis a questioning look.
He shook his head once, brushing my unspoken concern aside.
When he suggested we meet again in the training rooms, of course I agreed.
"I would like to spend more time in the hot training room," he said, standing in the hall with me outside of the kitchen.
We'd meant to go our separate ways, but it was hard to actually follow through.
I just wanted to be near him, and it was good for us to look enamoured anyway.
"Abaya are most comfortable in colder temperatures. I'm hoping to build my stamina."
I nearly bit through my tongue to keep myself from saying the twelve things that popped into my head, and from the way his lips twitched as he looked at me, I knew he thought them too.
"Sure," I said. And then, capitulating just a little to my baser instincts, "I'm happy to help you build stamina.
Good thing I like it hot." As he flushed, just a little, I turned and headed to my room where I would go to bed at my handler-approved bedtime and think about continuing to sell our story the next day and the day after that.
As long as I could avoid unexpected interactions with unpleasant people – namely Grigor – I figured I'd be fine.
He hadn't approached me at all to follow up on whatever it was he wanted to tell me; he hadn't made it clear how he knew my old name.
When I'd been up at night thinking about it, I'd decided that it was all a distraction, one that I couldn't afford.
Seraphim might try to rattle me – who knew why, but they'd never needed a reason to be insufferable assholes before – but I didn't have to let them succeed.
Besides, Alikander Lane didn't even exist: I'd never made it high enough in the Accolades to get identity papers.
Even the bill Seraphim had sent listed my name as Sashen Solar, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to attach the debt to anyone at all since Alikander Lane wasn't real by any meaningful metric.
Sashen existed; Alikander didn't. Grigor and Seraphim could yap all they wanted; I didn't have to let them in.
And I definitely didn't need to let them get in the way of what Araxis and I were doing.
We'd make sure we won the hearts of the audience; we'd make sure that Araxis won the Tournament.
And then we'd – do whatever came after that.
So I resolved to avoid Grigor like he was the plague, which wouldn’t be hard, I was sure.
When I wasn't in one of the training rooms or running laps of the track or floating in the pool or sitting in the interview room with Sky Pebble, I was in my room, holding my swords and staring at the ceiling or letting myself get sucked into the latest melodrama befalling Be'oi and Caso.
I pulled up my contract twice to poke around in the details, and I thought about reviewing my preparation for the Tournament – I figured the conglomerate would love if I made a file with the names of all the contestants and my initial thoughts – but it was hard to feel like that was accomplishing anything more than spinning my wheels.
None of it mattered, not beyond the plan Araxis and I had.
When Silver Sea showed up on the second day to escort me out of the village to the set where we'd film our promos, she took one look at what I'd put on – a sensible pair of pants, a dark and long-sleeved shirt – and she let out a belaboured sigh. "No," she said, closing the door behind her.
The outfit she dug out for me after rifling through the closet of all of my new clothes was decidedly different.
"This is a bit ridiculous," I said, standing in the middle of the closet as she looked me up and down, satisfied.
I plucked at the thin gossamer material of one sleeve.
"I wouldn't have this on in the arena. I'm wearing fucking slippers.
They won't even survive the walk to set.
" I gestured to my feet, which were, indeed, encased in a pink satin-like material.
"You're correct," she intoned. "Wear your boots while we walk over. I will carry your swords and slippers." Silver Sea paused, head tilting. "Hm, Swords and Slippers could be a good name for a brand. Have you thought much about merchandizing opportunities?"
I grumbled as we walked across the grounds, aware that I was going to look ridiculous in the promo swinging my blades around in sheer and skimpy clothes.
Normally, sheer and skimpy were qualities I liked in stage clothes – but the Tournament was a different kind of stage altogether, and I hated to think that the other competitors would see me as a soft target.
I was here to help Araxis, not to be a magnet for trouble.
I wouldn't be much help if he had to keep every other competitor from beheading me because they were all certain I'd go in a puff of glitter and satin slippers.