.
With no compelling reason to tolerate it, I couldn’t go out in the open in something this revealing, even in the dark. Serera teased me, but I couldn’t help it. As soon as we walked out of my suite in the palace, I cloaked.
We had to fly there. The Moon-Viewing Tower stands atop a crag in the north wall of the valley, jutting up above the trees on the rising slope behind it. Strategically it would make no sense as the watchtower it resembles, but its purpose isn’t military. It exists to provide a good view of the moons as they cross the sky. The sight lines are clear along the entire path from East horizon to West, and the moons remain above the tall ridge of mountains on the south of the valley for the greatest length of time possible in that region.
When we drew close, I began realizing that it was also far bigger than any watchtower. More like a ten-story office building. The broad roof featured ample open space with only a small cupola at its center to provide access to the floors below. Cushions encircled the five low tables on rugs that were scattered around the roof, and attendees were already relaxing at them. Traditionally garbed mortal girls were carrying out trays from the cupola to the tables and a little orchestra of wind and stringed instruments sat on cushions off to the side.
It looked like about twenty attendees were present, which would be almost everyone in the extended royal family currently in Tëan Tír. I was probably the last to arrive.
“You should uncloak now, Your Highness,” Serera instructed over her shoulder. “Your cousins will find it rude otherwise.”
Reluctantly, I let myself be seen as we came in to land. I realized too late, as we touched down on the roof, that I was backlit by the moonlight in an outfit that I definitely should avoid being backlit in.
My grandfather was at the center table, reclining on cushions. He gestured regally for us to come forward. Serera quickly advanced and went to one knee.
“My Liege, I have brought your granddaughter as you instructed.”
“You have my gratitude, My Lady. You may take your leave.”
She stood, bowed at practically ninety degrees, about-faced and gave me a wink as she took wing and departed.
I moved a bit closer, stepping onto the rug Serera had stopped before, then descended into a deep curtsey. “Ëi onar lâ, Lagan.”
Everything we had spoken was in Fairy, but I am frankly a little unsure how to translate “Ëi onar lâ”.
It’s hard to make it sound right in English. It means something like, “Honored one’s health, please”.
“Lagan” is like “Your Majesty”, by the way.
Sounding amused, the King noted, “I wonder if my daughter has not taught you the Dorian style for this situation. I’ve been meaning to ask.”
I thought about it for a bit, then figured out what he meant. I quickly switched to a seiza and then bowed down while putting my hands in a neat triangle in front of my knees, like a dutiful bride humbly greeting her new family in a samurai movie. A beautified version of the dogeza.
“Come join me,” he bade. Directed by his gestures, I rose and circled the table to the spot beside him. He was all warm smiles, while the two women bracketing him were drinking my body in with their eyes. I tried to ignore that part as I took a seat on the cushion between him and a fairy I had met a few days before.
“Esteemed Grandfather,” she stated primly, “You should ignore those bitches. The way my cousin normally greets you is elegant and lovely.”
I struggled to remember her name– Alore? Áme?– as she smiled at me.
My eyes are up here, girl.
In airy tones, the woman seated on the opposite side of Oberon told me, “The mortals have been complaining that you don’t greet His Majesty ‘correctly’.”
I struggled a bit, trying to find a way that didn’t sound callous to say ‘why does it matter what the mortals think?’ I mean, I care, but it just seemed a little un-fairy-like.
Grandfather humphed, then responded as if he read my mind. “You need to protect the mortals who serve you, Little Tiana. Your staff will endure criticism from their fellow maids if you aren’t careful.”
In Owen’s palace, I was a child, and probably insulated from such things. And come to think of it, there had been no competing concubines or the like in the palace to make the politics more spicy. But I’ve read enough palace intrigue in novels on Earth to have a sense of what he was talking about. Except, it was the domestic staff instead of the aristocrats themselves? Did the maids fight some sort of proxy war?
I really, really didn’t want to be involved in that.
It raised one concern in my mind immediately. “Do my maids go back to their normal jobs when I’m gone?”
I didn’t want them living with some kind of long-term consequence for serving me for a few days or weeks.
“Your maids came from my own staff,” Oberon answered. “I have far too many, so I could spare them. They’ll work with my staff again whenever you aren’t around, but they will remain officially yours from now on, unless you wish to change them.”
“Which you shouldn’t do unless it’s a necessity,” my cousin added sternly. “It would shame them.”
“Your Majesty,” the mystery woman asked, “Would you introduce us?”
“Certainly. Princess, this is my concubine, Lady Molore,” he stated, indicating mystery woman, and then indicated the girl on his other side, “And this is our granddaughter, Princess Anare. As I believe you two are aware, this is Deharè’s daughter, Princess Tiana.”
Anare. I was so close.
In addition to dozens of others, I had been introduced to a dozen and a half relatives in the past five days, and I was still sorting everyone out.
The grandmother and I proceeded through all the introductory noises, after which she told Oberon, “You wanted to discuss something privately with Tiana, I believe. Would you like us to go visit with Little Manlon now?”
He smiled at her. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Come, along, Anare,” she commanded as she rose.
“Yes, Grandmother,” my cousin answered, following suit.
I felt a [Realm of Silence] envelope us as soon as they left. He had a slightly saddened smile as he watched them head to the table where Manlon sat with his disciples snuggling up to him.
“Lady Molore was in a hurry to leave once you arrived,” he noted with an unhappy tone, “but I’m glad to see that your cousin views you more positively.”
Since I was used to that sort of thing, I just shrugged and looked around. I gave the group around Manlon a puzzled frown. His disciples were with him? Everyone else whom I could see who weren’t servants or musicians were royal family members.
“Something puzzling you, Mother?” the King asked.
I grew a frown. “Grandfather… I have asked you not to call me that, even in private. I admit I have some sort of connection with her, but I am not her.”
A rabbitkin serving girl in old-fashioned Dorian dress approached and knelt next to me, while placing her tray on the ground. A catgirl did the same, next to Oberon. They carefully laid out cloisonne tableware before us: sake decanters and saucer-like sake dishes, plates holding roasted beans and cucumber slices, platters of sashimi, wasabi and soy sauce, and gorgeously decorated chopstick sets.
The memory of a couple dozen isekai novels where the protagonist either grosses out the locals or enlightens them with the wonders of raw fish went through my head. Was I looking at something naturally evolved on Huade or the results of one of those teaching-Japanese-culture-to-the-natives stories? Tëan Tír had a modern mass transit system, after all; the same individual behind that may have been fond of sushi.
We were hundreds of miles from the ocean. In order for seafood to be fresh enough, were they flying it in or was some kind of magic involved?
As the girls worked, I returned to Oberon’s question. “I was wondering about Uncle Manlon’s disciples being present, when everyone else seems to be royal family members. Are they your descendants, too?”
He chuckled as he poured himself a drink. “The blond child is a distant descendant. Seven generations, if I recall correctly. The brunette might be of somewhat more distant lineage. But he claims those two as his concubines so they can stay by his side when he visits here. I decided to permit it, as I predict they will both provide me granddaughters eventually.”
The girls poured servings of sake into the saucers, bowed, then took their tray and left.
“I prayed to my father about you,” he told me after they left the [Realm]. “His answer was ‘She is not your mother, but your mother is within her’.”
He took a sip from his saucer, then stated, “I’m unsure what he means for me to understand from that, and your physical resemblance is certainly the result of inheritance, but I see my mother’s aura in you, and I did not see that aura in the baby that my daughter took away from here. It arrived with the soul that the Celestials sent here.”
I tried a sip of the drink myself while I considered my answer. A very small sip, and not just because sake is strong stuff. I’m not accustomed to drinking from a saucer. It’s tricky.
We had met every day since I arrived, and at least once during our meetings, he would call me ‘mother’ in the ancient language he had spoken with Senhion in Ilim Below. The language we were conversing in now, I suddenly realized with some discomfort.
How deep does the wound of losing your mother at a young age have to be, for the pining to last ten thousand years? It was clear to me that he still missed her.
Neither Robert nor Tiana ever knew their fathers, so that connection doesn’t exist in my heart. And as far as I know, my mother on Earth is just as alive as my mother here. I have no way to relate to his loss.
I answered, “Senhion was thousands of years old, Your Majesty. I am a twenty-five-year-old mind in a fifteen-year-old body, with neither of them being a parent. Thanks to what your father showed me a few days ago, I do have some of your mother’s memories of you. But if they are mine, they are memories from many, many lifetimes before this one. I don’t feel enough connection to them to deserve the love you have for your mother.”
We held each other’s gazes for several seconds, with both of us too stubborn to concede.
Then he sighed and nodded. “All right. I will lay the subject aside for now.”
Which meant he hadn’t given up. But, dang it, what would he even gain if I ever said ‘yes, I’m your mother’? In every practical aspect, I would be lying, so the value he received from it would be a lie.
Even if I could still clearly remember Senhion’s joy while cuddling that little baby.
I mixed wasabi and soy sauce with my chopsticks while I stated, “Your Majesty, I would like to ask again for permission to return to my King.”
He scowled while pouring himself another drink. This was another subject we covered daily. I had a ton of unfinished business in Orestania, and nothing of any urgency here. And my heart needed clarification on many issues involving my mother, my brothers, my two Servants… I also worried daily about Genette and the rest of the staff in Copen.
It was turning me into a stir-crazy mass of anxiety, frankly.
But thanks to some perfectly bad timing, he was able to dodge the question. Gesturing toward the Greater Moon with his sake dish, he answered, “We shall discuss it later. It’s time for the White Moon to make her grand exit.”
