Chapter 27 Sheuan
Sheuan
Langzu – inner Bian
When the mortals first began capturing magic from the Numinars, they used it to heal wounds, to create food, to strengthen their buildings.
But there will always be conflict – among mortals as well as among gods – and there will always be those who seek an advantage.
So the mortals began to use the magic to build innovative, terrible weapons.
If magic could feed a people better, it could also be used to kill a people better.
Sheuan did her best to store the enforcer’s face in her memory as they made their way to the Sovereign’s study.
She’d been too occupied with her clan, with the filters, with the sudden reappearance of Mull.
If these enforcers had access to magic, then that was a weapon the Sovereign had that she did not, and knowing their exact numbers could only serve her in the future.
And it was a distraction from her anxiety. Her limited interactions with the Sovereign had been something of a relief. She’d left their last encounter as unsettled as Nimao had left theirs. Now he was requesting to speak to her. Rather urgently, judging by the pace of the enforcer.
He opened the door to the study and then stepped aside to let her pass.
She thought she much preferred the room at night.
It was still beautiful by day, the shutters half closed to keep out the heat, the sunlight gleaming in bars across the elaborately threaded rug.
One shutter was completely open, letting in a warm breeze.
Perhaps it was because, at night, the Sovereign hadn’t occupied it.
He seemed to take up more space in the study than he physically occupied, so that Sheuan stopped, hesitating, a good distance from his desk.
He stood behind it, by the window, his attention half on her and half on the city outside.
A thin bar of light stretched across his eyes; he squinted, accentuating the line between his brows.
It wasn’t until the enforcer’s footsteps creaked down the hall that he spoke. “I need more filters. You’re moving too slowly.”
“If I knew the quota you were trying to fulfill…”
He shook his head, still not looking at her. “I can give you no quota. It changes, depending on circumstances. And circumstances are always shifting.”
She’d watched various clan members arrive and leave the castle, meeting with their Sovereign.
Some left looking satisfied, some disappointed, some with no expression at all.
No matter what he did, the clans would gossip.
Rumors would spread about the filters, the favor of the Sovereign, about restoration and the possibility of escape.
With the manufacturing of the filters at the workshop, she’d not been able to keep as accurate a track of the people the Sovereign was bestowing favor on as she would have liked.
She could understand the appeal of Mitoran’s approach, with her spies in so many places.
But there was no one she could trust, not yet.
He turned from the window. A brief flash of gold in his eyes before the shadows overtook them. “Why not have someone assist you?”
“It’s a complicated process. I’m not sure many could manage it.”
“Surely you and your cousin are not unique amongst the whole of Langzu. I find that hard to believe.” His voice was smooth, soothing. But she knew his tone often belied his words.
“I wouldn’t dare suggest that, especially not with you standing right before me.”
His lip quirked. He appreciated the attempt at flattery, if not the flattery itself. “Are you truly suggesting that I join your efforts?”
“It’s a good deal of work.” Was she… flirting with him? She didn’t know what to do with this man. Really, she was embarrassing herself, wasn’t she? Her words were all hard-edged and unwieldy.
He swiped a hand across his desk, his fingers landing lightly on a stack of parchment, a spider coming to rest. “And you’re working so hard that you had time to meet with Liyana Juitsi and Nimao Risho.”
She struggled to keep the flush from rising to her cheeks.
Of course he would know – they’d had to come in through the castle’s only entrance, past the Sovereign’s enforcers.
Her movements were always watched, she knew that.
Fine, though. Let him think he’d caught her out.
“Do you wish me to maintain our family’s social ties, or not? ”
One lower eyelid twitched before his face was flat again. Something about what she’d said didn’t sit well with him. What? Family? They were married – that was what they were. Technically, at least.
“You could maintain social ties more easily if you gave over charge of the filters to someone else.”
It really bothered him – that she had this knowledge and he didn’t.
But as long as she held the secret, he couldn’t get rid of her.
He needed her. And that needled him. She couldn’t help but needle him further.
If he wanted her confused and compliant, what would happen if she gave him the opposite?
Could she press him until he snapped? What would she discover?
She let out an exasperated sigh. “If I had to slow down to show someone how to make the filters, I wouldn’t be meeting any quota, real or imagined, and who knows when restoration will be? ”
He lifted a few pages of parchment, peered beneath, then let them fall again, apparently bored, not even mouthing at the bait. “It’s better to invest the time now for a more productive outcome.”
How direct should she be? Or should she continue to circle, let him speak plainly first?
She didn’t know what course of action to take with him.
A stray cat passed by the open window, stopping to clean its face.
She wasn’t sure exactly how a cat had gotten onto the rooftop, except that cats seemed to always manage to get to places they weren’t supposed to be.
It made her think of the winged altered man with his cat in the basket.
An opening presented itself to her, and she squeezed into the gap.
“Kluehnn will get word of this, sooner or later. You’ve been distributing the filters to the royal families.
Some of those family members are devout. ”
“I haven’t been giving filters to them,” he snapped back quickly.
It was a vehement response, one she grasped, recorded, and filed away.
So… it wasn’t just a lack of faith he suffered from.
He actively disliked those who were devout.
She waved a hand, pretending she hadn’t noticed or cared.
“Regardless, people talk. Families talk. Do you want Kluehnn to figure out a way to get around the filters? What’s the use of all the work you’re doing now, if you’re allowing him time to counteract this measure? ”
“Hm,” was all he said.
“Keep the secret to me. Minimize the risk.”
For the longest time, he just stared at her. She studied his features yet again: the gentle, sloping brows, the white hair with a few last strands of black, the slightly curved nose. It was like trying to find purchase on a cliffside. She didn’t know what he thought of her words.
“Why did you want to meet with Nimao and Liyana?” His voice was the soft padding of feet on a plush rug.
She had an answer at the ready – the truth. Or, at least, part of it. “I made a promise to Nimao before I became your wife. I told him I’d introduce him to Liyana. I wanted to keep my word.”
The Sovereign pivoted around the corner of the desk.
There was something about the way he approached her that made Sheuan feel suddenly exposed, like she should be maneuvering to put that desk between them, or making her way to the door.
She forced herself to stillness as he lifted a hand and wove his fingers into the unbound portion of her hair.
“Honorable, to keep a promise like that. Honorable, for a woman who would let her family fall into ruin for personal gain.”
Maybe it was because his words held an echo of her mother’s, but couldn’t help but respond. “My family was already falling into ruin. Nothing I did would have stopped that.”
His fingertips brushed her scalp, and she shivered. “How like your father you are,” he murmured, brown eyes fixed on hers. “It would be sad to see you end up like him.”
Sheuan wondered if he could see her pulse, the steady thrum of blood rushing through her veins. She kept her breathing slow, even. “Oh,” she said, her voice light, her gaze as sharp-edged as his. “I could never be quite as clever.”