Chapter 14 #4
Zirric's features tightened, uncomfortable.
"Well, I've heard that you're not even fucking," he said in a whisper that wasn’t terribly quiet.
"And someone else said you're just – oh, it's mean, Sashen, but they said you're just going along with everything so you can get out of your debt, and someone else told me he's paying you to pretend.
And I said that was stupid, because those things couldn't all be true: if he was paying you, you'd most definitely be fucking, right? Like you said, you're a dancer."
Where did I even begin with that? I looked quickly around the room we were in, skimming for anyone who was near enough to hear Zirric's hushed confession, but we were alone except for Lauvis, who'd stationed himself at the door and looked immensely bored.
Although I was pretty sure that was all affect: I saw the quick way he flicked his stare upwards to track movement in another room. He was playing a part.
And Zirric – what were the odds he was fishing for information?
"I don't know who your sources are," I said, warming my tone deliberately, "but they're not good. Araxis isn't paying me to fuck him. We're sleeping together. He's taking very good care of me. You know I wouldn't accept anything less." I jostled Zirric's shoulder with feigned affection.
Something flitted across his features – maybe it was disappointment; maybe it was relief; I didn't know him well enough to be able to tell – and then Lauvis straightened. "There he is."
I tugged my arm free from Zirric and pushed past Lauvis so that I could see through the series of archways that led back to the museum foyer, just as Araxis crested the stairs and stepped inside, haloed by the bright lights overhead.
He was dressed no differently than he had been when he'd left for his meeting with Vivith – he wore immaculate dark formal wear, but his crest wasn't braided in a more intricate design; he wasn't wearing any additional ornamentation, except for a gleaming, iridescent blade at his side – and yet as he strode into the museum and stepped into the cavernous white space cast in warm light, I felt almost like the ground was trembling beneath my feet, my footing unsteady.
Araxis cast a quick look around the foyer, and then his black stare found mine, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.
Distantly, I could hear Zirric say, "Oh, I knew it.
You can't fake that look," and then I pushed my way through the series of rooms separating us as he did the same, striding to meet me near a vast mosaic of thousands of pieces of metal and gemstone that depicted the system of Xitera and the glittering capital city Adralne with its thousand sharp spires, like teeth piercing the crystalline sky.
Araxis's cool hands took mine as he stepped in close, his stare bright and perceptive.
"Are you well?" When I nodded, his expression softened and he leaned back to take me in.
"This is new," he said quietly, one hand shifting to touch the rippling trim of my top, to trace the glinting metal that rested against my chest.
My skin tingled beneath his touch, electric underneath the weight of his stare. "Do you like it?"
His lips twitched into a smile, private and small. "Very much so. You have outdone yourself. You are the finest treasure here."
Pleasant heat flushed up my cheeks and I felt the urge to look away, but I resisted.
"What I don't like," I said, stepping in even closer, "is exhibit openings.
" I studied him, cataloguing the weariness written across his familiar features.
I doubted anyone else would notice, but I did.
"Are you okay?" I took his hand, pulsing my grip to check in.
He exhaled, tired smile still in place. "It has been a long day, but I am much happier now, to be by your side."
He was working so hard. Too hard. "Well, I've got something for work right now," I said, "but I'll be free after, if you wanted to do something then. I bet we could find somewhere that serves a decent tea at this hour."
"Hm." His hand squeezed mine, one thumb stroking my skin.
"We can only hope both of our schedules are soon cleared.
But I suppose I must first make a few rounds and speak with people I have already spoken to at formal meetings.
I am certain doing the same thing at an event will somehow make all of the difference.
" He shot me a knowing look, and I snorted.
"Yeah, well, I bet they'll be short conversations, at least. The only person who'll even breathe a word near me is Zirric," I said, sliding myself in next to him as we began to walk to the room where I'd left Lauvis and Zirric. "Oh, and my least favourite sinnenthi from my least favourite creche."
I felt, rather than saw, Araxis stiffen next to me. "Yes," he said, "Lauvis sent me a message much to that effect."
"I told her to fuck off," I said happily. "I mean, politely. I didn't use those words."
"You may, of course, use any words you would like, beloved. Or throat punching. I encourage your self-expression in all of its forms."
I laughed, pleased, and then Araxis greeted Lauvis and Zirric, who was beaming at the two of us, and I resigned myself to slipping into the role of Sashen of Creche Thiel for the rest of the evening.
We spent the next hour wandering from room to room, Araxis greeting the familiar faces at the event while Lauvis made introductions to those he hadn't yet been able to meet with, or who had deftly avoided meetings so far.
Even I could admit it was valuable: we lined up six more meetings before the musicians had even started entertaining in earnest. We did end up speaking with a zarravon from Creche Sonen – oh, I said when the introduction was made, one of our creche-mates used to be part of Creche Sonen; he's an absolute treasure, isn't he, Araxis?
– and I'd carefully angled myself so that, when he went to leave after some very uncomfortable small talk, he'd tripped and nearly knocked an immensely precious suit of armour from a plinth.
I did my level best not to smirk when he was pulled aside to be spoken to by furious museum staff while everyone in the room pretended not to notice.
"Sorry," I muttered to Araxis.
He'd shot me a sideways look, eyes glittering. "Whatever for? You certainly have enough poise and grace to be trusted around rare artifacts."
I kept expecting, as time slipped by, that I might see Crozani again – but she remained elsewhere.
At one point, Araxis noticed me scanning the crowd.
"Are you looking for your least favourite sinnenthi?
" he asked, head tipped close to mine while my fingers curved around his bicep.
When I nodded, he added, "I suspect she has left.
I saw her briefly on the way in. We did not speak but – ah. Well."
"What, did you stare at her in a very threatening manner?" It was a joke, but Araxis silvered, just slightly, and I had to smother the shocking fizz of pleasure that set off in my chest.
I didn't need him to protect me. But – it was nice to know he wanted to, even if I wasn't looking to hide behind his coat. I could deal with Crozani of Creche Naival all on my own, while also liking the idea that Araxis might make her uneasy too.
So we wandered and looked at ancient art and other old things, Araxis occasionally pausing to point something out, but mostly we just made small talk with important arkathi and I smiled prettily by his side.
Zirric tried, a couple of times, to wrest me away so that we might walk together – I thought he probably wanted to ask me about those rumours again – but I managed to shrug him off.
And while we walked, as I smiled pleasantly on Araxis's arm, I kept getting the strangest, most bewildered stares from the many abaya we spoke to – those who didn't know how to fold their expressions away quickly, anyway.
Finally, a sinnenthi from Creche Zivanis, made bolder, perhaps, by how deep they seemed to be into the free drinks, allowed themself to rock a little closer to Araxis as we were finalizing the details for a meeting tomorrow with their antali diplomat, and said in abayan, "I will admit to some surprise at hearing of your virra's strength and capability.
He seemed rather weak and docile on broadcast, but to make such a stand against Creche Hanalthi, and then to enact such glorious violence!
It is impressive, to be able to exert control over such a creature.
You must have him well in hand. Tell me, does he also have a Khedean pleasure ring? "
Araxis went perfectly still next to me as he half-turned to stare at the sinnenthi, his eyes wide and black.
There was that phrase again, exerting control.
I’d heard before in the abayan broadcasts we watched at home that featured hapless virra and stoic sinnenthi, and it had the particular weight of something cultural.
My fingers spasmed on Araxis's bicep, and I tugged a little on his arm.
"How kind you are to pay me any notice." I murmured the rote phrase and dipped my head, demure.
Their stare, hungry and assessing, flicked to me. They switched easily to Standard. "Do not all dancers have pleasure rings, to ease the way?"
"You speak as if you already know," I said in abayan, to make it clear I'd understood everything else.
And then, "We're so looking forward to our meeting with Creche Zivanis tomorrow.
Araxis, my feet are killing me. Could you find me somewhere to sit?
" I tugged harder on his arm, and Araxis forcibly wrenched his stare away from the sinnenthi, nodding once at the Zivanis antali before we broke away and headed toward the front doors of the museum.