17. Jahan
Jahan
I n anticipation for her unexpected evening soiree with Christopher Culis, the remainder of Jezebel’s day was chaotic. There were a number of eclectic and extravagant requirements that the princess declared to be essential to ensure the success of the night ahead. Procuring these over the course of the afternoon left Mila no space to dwell too fiercely on the fate she had narrowly avoided, and Culis’s role.
To ensure everything was ready in time, Jezebel made the unexpected decision to relinquish control of Mila’s lead to Jahan for the afternoon.
“I need you to be able to move around and oversee the necessary preparations while I’m being sewn into my new dress,” she ordered, as she handed the hateful golden lead to the guard.
Jahan was absolutely astonished, but not entirely unhappy, to see Mila still alive.
“You know what I like,” Jezebel said with a dismissive wave. “Make sure it is all perfect. ”
Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised Mila that Jezebel expected her to fall easily back into her role of the docile pet. But she did, and for now, Mila was happy to play along if it kept her alive for another day.
Together, Jahan and Mila left Jezebel’s boudoir and quickly made their way down the winding staircase to the ground floor.
“You’re alive,” he said incredulously as soon as they were out of earshot of the princess. The words burst from him as though he’d been waiting months to talk freely with her, and perhaps he had.
“I am,” Mila agreed grimly. “And I can sense that you’re not as upset about it as many others in the palace are.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t die and leave me wondering what the hell you’ve been playing at this past week. Leave me out of your schemes.” His voice was cold and hard. He was angry with her.
“I’m sorry to have involved you,” she said sincerely. She decided then to educate him on her plan. “I needed Jezebel to believe that I had developed an infatuation with you. It was the only thing I could think of that would save me from the jealousy Culis evoked in her at the dinner party.”
“Oh.” Jahan eyed her critically, as if weighing this reasoning, then snorted in derision. “That man wreaks havoc wherever he goes.”
“Generally, I would agree with you, but I think he may have deliberately saved my life today.”
Jahan raised an eyebrow. “Really? That's interesting if its true. Perhaps the princess does have legitimate reason to be jealous of you.” He mulled this over for a moment, then said, “Right. Where are we going first?”
“The main greenhouse,” Mila replied, and then returned to the topic at hand as they walked in that direction. “I’m sorry that you seem to be inescapably tied into my fate in this place. I’m grateful for the kindness you showed me on that first night, and I’m truly sorry for what it cost you. I don’t want you ever to suffer on my behalf again.”
Jahan was not ready to accept the apology. “If you were truly sorry, you would leave me out of this new game.”
“I can’t stop now,” Mila said sadly. “The wheels are already in motion. I’m sorry, but there was no one else I could have meaningfully pretended to have these feelings for. I’ve had no real interactions with her other staff. I know it’s a lot to ask, and you have no reason to help me but…if you could just…play along for a while, it might help me survive the summer months. Jezebel wants to foster a romance between us. The idea is entertaining to her.”
“Everything is a risk when it comes to entertaining the princess.”
It wasn’t an outright no, but it certainly wasn’t a yes either. His energy gave her no clue as to what he would decide, but one thing was clear, he was not happy about being put in this position.
Mila decided to try another angle. “You don’t seem to despise me, at least, not as deeply as others in this city do.”
“Most of them have been misguided into believing that committing the First Behaviour is worse than committing any of the others,” he said curtly. “But I have been around the palace since I was a young boy, and I have heard the God-King’s teachings on the matter firsthand. I know that I have no more reason to hate you for your decision to commit the First than I should hate a teenage boy who blasphemes, or an old woman who reminisces about her childhood. It’s all heretic behaviour, and for the God-King alone to judge and punish. If he wanted you sacrificed today, you would have been.”
Mila realised he was right. Regardless of the game currently being played between Culis, Jezebel and Abbott, if the God-King had demanded her sacrifice today, she would have been handed over without hesitation. Why hadn’t he ?
“That’s…that’s not what the Church teaches,” Mila challenged quietly as they reached the tall, white, domed greenhouse.
They paused the conversation for a moment as she directed the head gardener to cut one hundred branches of the longest and greenest ivy from the garden, to decorate the princess’s enormous room, floor to ceiling. With Jahan looming over her shoulder, she was obeyed without hesitation.
When the gardener rushed away, she turned back to Jahan. “The Church teaches that demons are more evil than humans, that we challenge the authority of the God-King when we accept our powers. That’s why we are hunted down and sacrificed at the Sacrament of Contrition. Artor wants to be rid of us.”
“Yes, well, over the years, the Church has taken to picking and choosing the elements of the Holy Text they follow and enforce upon the population,” Jahan said. “It suits them to have demons as a common enemy. It means the Church remains favourably viewed amongst humans, who are kept safe from being sacrificed, and it keeps them in power. It’s all politics.”
Mila was stunned to hear such a critique from him. These words were blasphemy, a direct contravention of the Sixth Heretical Behaviour – speaking ill of the Church.
“Does this mean… Are you saying that you don’t believe… what the Church says about demons – ”
Jahan cut her off abruptly. “Do not misunderstand me. The teachings of Midas are clear. To accept supernatural powers from Viah and become a demon is unacceptable to him. You are a heretic, and you’re bound for the Rotting Muds of the afterlife for your decision. But it does not mean that your kind should be persecuted while humans who sin are left unpunished. ”
“That is…quite a progressive view on the Holy Text,” Mila said in astonishment.
"It's actually far more fundamentalist." He corrected, and Mila was afforded some time to mull this revelation over when the gardener returned and handed the vines to her.
She took them gratefully and then informed Jahan their next errand would require a visit to the servants’ quarters, located in the city. A carriage was swiftly arranged, and as they rode beyond the palace walls and into Jeralusah, Mila was reminded of the conversation she’d overheard at Lady Picory’s manor.
“So, what you’re saying,” she said slowly, “is that you follow the word of Midas, not of the Church. You view them as separate authorities.”
“Precisely,” he agreed. He seemed pleased that she’d figured it out, and his open energy indicated that he was now enjoying the conversation.
“Are you a dissident?” she asked curiously. “I’ve heard there is a movement of such progressive ideas happening around Traders Bay. Do your ideas belong in such a group?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Despite my unique views, I have no desire to topple the Church or challenge Abbott. Not while the God-King tolerates them.”
“And so how did you come to form these views?” She’d never met anyone quite like him.
“My mother,” he said, glowing with quiet pride. “She was a fisherwoman in the Village of Truth.”
Mila recognised the name from the conversation with Jezebel.
“She was one of the first to recognise the God-King’s divinity,” he continued, “and she left her life by the sea to follow him. Until she died, she was amongst his most devoted followers and attended all of the original Twelve Sermons, scribing them into texts that she eventually presented to the Church for posterity.”
“I’ve never heard of additional Holy Texts. I thought there was only the one.”
“Of course you haven’t,” Jahan said with a grim smile. “The Church doesn’t want their existence known. It’s far easier for them to simply distil the contents of these sermons down into eight Heretical Behaviours and give those to the population to follow. Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if they gave every man and woman the opportunity to interpret complex religious texts and determine their own meaning from it?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm.
“You disagree,” Mila observed.
“I believe in the right of all people to hear the God-King’s word directly. Humans are fallible. The Church is well intentioned, but fallible. I believe it's wrong to keep secret the sermons of the God-King that my mother scribed.”
They arrived then at the quarter of the city where Jezebel’s servants lived, and the two of them abandoned the conversation to rouse all the handmaids, even the ones who were off duty for the day.
Once everyone was dressed, Mila directed a few of the maids to run and purchase a hundred of the tallest, slowest burning, elaborately carved, beeswax candles they could find. Others were to procure two live peacocks and take them directly to Jezebel’s chamber. The remainder she tasked with descending on the market to acquire every exotic aphrodisiac they could find: foods, perfumes, feathers, anything and everything. Again, despite a general air of disbelief that she was still alive, she was obeyed promptly and without question. She’d been seen catering to the princess’s every whim for long enough now that her word carried authority on the matter of the princess’s desires, and Jahan towering at her side helped to enforce the urgency .
With the required items procured and en route to Jezebel’s suites, Mila and Jahan headed back to the palace.
“Well, I’ve come to know far more about you on this little jaunt than I could ever have hoped to learn from the poor line of questioning I gave you a week ago,” Mila said with a small smile.
Jahan groaned at the memory, but smiled in return. “Now don’t actually become infatuated with me, demon,” he joked, and she laughed, grateful for the humour. It was the first laugh she’d shared with another in months, and it felt like a healing balm placed over her tired and stressed soul.
“My name is Mila,” she said, saying her name out loud for the first time since she’d arrived in Jeralusah. It felt good to hear it. “And don’t worry,” she replied. “I have little energy for engaging in anything other than staying alive at the moment, and it remains to be seen what Culis and Jezebel’s plans are for me tonight.”
“Mmm,” Jahan hummed. “Culis is bad news. If he risked both Jezebel’s and Abbott’s wrath to keep you alive today, then he has some plan for you. Don’t take heart from that. I wouldn’t trust him to be any more merciful or painless than either of them.”
“Believe me, I know,” she agreed.
“All of the Culis family is bad. His brother Martin was apparently the best of the bunch, but Christopher is renowned for being just like his father, a two-faced, lying, greedy scumbag.”
“Well, that he probably is,” Mila agreed. “But I still have to try to ensure he is pleased in Jezebel’s chambers tonight. Do you know what kind of drink he prefers?”
Jahan snorted. “Probably the blood of infants.”
Mila laughed again, feeling lighter than she had felt in…weeks, despite her impending fear .
“Thank you,” she said as the carriage pulled up at the front of the apartments and Jahan escorted her back up the stairs. “You’re the only soul here who has ever treated me with a degree of dignity. It means more to me than you could possibly ever know.”
“Hush now,” he said softly as they entered the top level.
Mila obediently fell silent, knowing that for Jezebel to hear Mila conversing with him in such a manner was not akin to the flirtation she expected of them.
They entered the room, and Jahan departed as soon as he’d handed her lead back to the princess.
Afterwards, Mila reflected on the conversation and realised cautiously that it had caused some hope to form again within her. Jahan had revealed himself to be, possibly, the one person who would not seek to punish her or find reasons to hasten her sacrifice – and he hadn’t been afraid to let her know it. He was the closest thing she had to a friend in this place, and if she was to continue surviving day-by-day, she needed all the friends she could get.