Chapter 3 #2
I watched as Araxis stiffened, turning to look at the meeting room, where Vivith was carefully rearranging the cushions and fussing with the lights.
There wasn't much to busy themself with: the room was little more than a glossy wooden table, low to the ground, and a selection of plush cushions in emerald green, lit by softly glowing lights overhead that mimicked candlelight.
They did like to look busy, though, because it made it easier to make off-handed pissy little comments.
"I came back early because of this meeting," I said. "So I'd like to attend, if it would be helpful."
He didn't look at me then. "Give me a moment, Sashen," Araxis murmured, stare pinned on Vivith's moving shape.
"I must speak with Vivith." And then he crossed the room, stepping into the meeting space, and he pulled the door shut behind him, effectively cutting me out – although the door was ajar, which meant that I could hear most of what followed.
I was trying not to eavesdrop, I really was.
Except it was hard to avoid when the first words out of Vivith's mouth were my name and an abayan word that translated to shameful.
When Araxis spoke, it was too low for me to hear, so I moved away a little further.
I really didn't want to know what they were saying, not if that was how they started.
Despite my history with the den, there was no part of me that thought it would be either fun or profitable to hear what came next, not when even the beginning had twisted my stomach into a knot.
But because Inmadra was very good, I could understand at least part of what drifted from the room, even if I was trying not to.
They were arguing about me. And from the way our resident cinelaat had said my name, absolutely dripping with scorn, Vivith wasn’t very impressed for reasons I couldn't fathom.
I'd come back early, like they'd told me to.
I'd shown up and had gotten myself ready so that I could be of use, however they needed – whether that was to dazzle or to scare off the Miras sinnenthi, it didn't particularly matter to me.
And yet, Vivith was hissing my name like I was the devil.
Despite trying not to eavesdrop, my brain couldn’t help but decipher a few phrases that drifted from the meeting room and into our bedroom.
Inappropriate, Vivith said, and then a couple words that referred, I was pretty sure, to types of clothing.
Was this about how I was dressed? And then, louder, in a phrase I could actually follow, they said, plainly, "Make him accept your apology, and be done with this.
Truly, Araxis – Ah, Nishel of Creche Miras has arrived.
I will bring him shortly. See to Sashen, Araxis.
" With a snap, Vivith opened the other door from the meeting room into the hallway and presumably headed off to fetch our visitor.
I glanced over to the sliver of light spilling from the meeting room into our dim bedroom, and watched as Araxis carefully and quietly stepped back into our room, his shoulders upright.
The particular care in his appearance – the glinting threads woven throughout the dark panels of fabric; the beads dotting his crest – struck me anew as I stood there, flushed and uncomfortable.
All he needed was a crown on his head and a sword by his side, I thought distantly.
The black of his eyes warmed as he looked at me, his head tilting just slightly, and then he closed the door behind him. The opaque panels of the door cast dim squares of light across the floor.
Somehow, Vivith was upset about something that both had to do with what I was wearing – even though Araxis had said it would be suitable for the Assembly Halls in Adralne, so I didn't see how it could be inappropriate – and the fact that I hadn't yet accepted his apology.
I didn't know how to square that circle, but I knew someone who did, even if he didn't like to tell me anything that might help me be less of a walking disaster.
"Well," I said, and I refused to feel uncomfortable about this whole situation because if I wasn't doing something right, it was because Araxis wasn't steering me in the right direction. "What's wrong with how I look?"
Araxis blinked, surprised, and I continued, "I mean, that's part of it, right? I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I recognized a few of the words."
Araxis smiled – I could see it was deliberate – although there was a twist of tension he couldn't hide away. "Nothing is wrong with how you look, Sashen." He crossed the room on bare feet, quiet as always.
"Obviously there is," I said, still hot and uncomfortable, almost feverish, although I was pretending I wasn't. "Don't worry about my feelings. Thick skin, right? Just tell me and I'll fix it." I stepped toward the closet. "Maybe you could pick something for me to wear instead?"
Araxis's hand shot out, reaching for me before he thought better of it. It dropped instead to his side, flexing uncertainly.
The only times he touched me now were when I woke from my nightmares and he pulled me out of the spiral into darkness. Other than that –
My jaw tightened.
"I – Of course I will always worry about your feelings," Araxis said. "And I will share Vivith's concerns with you, although they are not valid."
Beyond the shut door, the murmuring of voices sounded.
The sinnenthi had arrived, ushered in by Vivith.
With the doors closed, their conversation was private – impossible to eavesdrop on thanks to the auditory dampeners which fuzzed out all sounds to soft melodic tones – which meant ours was private too.
I waited, looking at him.
Araxis swallowed, studying me with his liquid black stare. Taking me in as I hovered there, flushed and unhappy. Finally, he exhaled, as if steeling himself. "May I touch you?" Araxis asked.
I let my stare trace his features: the pinch of anxiety around his eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the precise angles of his face. He was all cool perfection – except that I could also see, beneath the poised sinnenthi, a layer of hesitation. Something tentative, uncertain.
I couldn't tell if he was letting me see that, or if it was beyond his ability to control. Still, I nodded.
He fluted out a breath, something like relief, and reached to touch the plunging hem of my neckline.
His fingers traced the overlay of lace against my skin, cool and gentle, before brushing delicately against the juncture of my neck and shoulder.
Goosebumps prickled my skin. I could feel every breath I took as he stood there, close to me in the dim light; I could feel the slide of the gossamer fabric against my shoulder, my arms, his touch on my bare skin electric.
He was right to ask permission. He hadn't touched me like this in weeks. And the place where he rested his cool fingers had also been untouched. Unmarked.
"You're bare," he said. "There is not even a fading mark.
It does not matter to me. You have declared for me; you are a member of our creche.
We have an agreement." The word was strained, just slightly, as he said it, but he kept his expression carefully neutral; I could see him make the effort.
"And so it is fine. You are exquisite, as always. "
I narrowed my eyes, studying him. His black stare had caught on the column of my throat, the place where his fingers rested. I could feel his hand flex, just slightly, like he wanted to slide his palm around to the back of my neck, to hold me possessively, to pull me in tighter.
"Is that the caldathess?" I asked with a sudden realization.
He blinked at me, looking almost dazed. "Yes," Araxis murmured. "It is – a mark of service. But it does not matter, Sashen. Do not let it bother you."
"You're fixing it," I said, forcing myself to shift my weight to my heels so I stopped leaning in without realizing it.
Being this close to him, close enough to inspect the shadows cast by his eyelashes and to smell the spice of his skin, meant that my whole universe had angled toward him.
All I had to do was let go and fall, and he would be there.
"You're making a decision without explaining it or asking what I want to do. "
Araxis jerked back, his hand falling away, and he blinked rapidly at me.
The skin around his eyes tightened in distress, and I could see him turning it over in his mind.
I took the moment to slide backwards, putting a bit more space between us.
"You are correct," he admitted. "I should explain more clearly. Perhaps – hm. Let me try, Sashen."
The door to the meeting room slid open, just wide enough for Vivith – thin and wiry as they were – to slide through in their cloud of black fabric.
They shut the door behind them, stare flicking between the two of us.
"Nishel is waiting," they hissed, shoulders tight.
"Sashen, cover up. If you will not wear Araxis's mark –"
Araxis turned and said something sharp and fast in abayan. Then added, for my benefit, "Entertain our guest. Discuss the proposition in the Assembly. You are given authority within this creche, Vivith; this also means you are given responsibility. Tend to the duties you are so eager for."