6

Whether it was to placate her, or out of some unlikely space where kindness resided, Lilica chose not to argue or inquire when Sybelle showed her straight to her own personal quarters, where a tub full of steaming water awaited her. The noblewoman had given her strict instructions to use the bath and only the bath, threatening whatever came to mind if the dark mage were to touch any of her personal belongings, before leaving her to her privacy.

Sinking neck-deep in the floral-scented water, it wasn’t until she scrubbed away the past few days from her skin that she realized she must have grown used to smelling like that putrid dungeon. Though lulled by the warmth and fragrance of this small luxury, the dark mage’s head still spun with the confusion of the events that had come to pass. Both a prisoner and a guest, working against her will and better judgements and yet towards something that could very well benefit her, all on top of very uncertain feelings towards the woman who had instigated this series of opportunities… She was unable to help but to continue to weigh the pros and cons of having agreed to this arrangement, hindsight a constant, nagging enemy that refused her weary mind a moment of rest.

And it was not the only obstacle between her and relaxation. Just as she began to surrender her tensions to the water that enveloped her body, the heavy sound of a door opening pulled her back to reality. It was followed by a familiar rhythm of footsteps that alerted Lilica to the fact that the only thing maintaining her privacy was the pale, silken curtain surrounding the porcelain tub. “Just a word of wisdom: too much water is a bane to the skin.” Sybelle’s footfalls stopped what sounded like just short of the curtain, enough to make Lilica bristle and sink up to her chin in the water. When she made no reply, Sybelle added, “You are nearly finished, I hope?”

“I wasn’t aware that there was a time limit.” Lilica mumbled, realizing (to her own humiliation) that more time may have passed than she was aware; the telltale cooling of the bathwater had never come to pass, her skin fresh and pink from the continually steaming water. She did not bother to inquire into the magic or means required to defy the natural change in temperature, and the blissful period of relaxation had long dissipated, leading her to reluctantly stand and dry herself behind the ornate privacy curtain.

Sybelle scoffed and tapped her foot, watching the dark one’s silhouette rise from the tub out of the corner of her eye. Then, as if afraid she would be caught staring (not that her abilities extended to seeing through solid objects), she promptly looked away. “Are you so comfortable already that you have forgotten this is my room? Please, do not exploit my kindness. I do not offer it at a whim.” Particularly not toward contrary strangers.

When another moment passed, and the lithe shadow behind the curtain grew static, the Silvanys daughter’s already fragile patience shook. “Forgotten how to dress yourself? Should I send for help?”

Lilica’s reply was quiet, but firm. “I want something else to wear.”

“You will wear what I have already provided you with.”

“I look like a child.”

“Good.” Sybelle snapped, lips pressing into a thin line. “Might I remind you, I am making an effort to shape everyone’s perception of you favourably. After that stunt you pulled in front of our king, that is no asy feat; the more innoccent, more naïve you can come across, all the better in your favour.”

With the noblewoman’s logic too steadfast to deny, Lilica conceded defeat in the silence that followed and donned the pale-blue abomination of attire that she’d suffered all day. Try it; dress me like a petty child. See if it will fool anyone. A strong suspicion warned her that it would take more than a change of clothes to cast off the shadows that had everyone in the palace afraid to approach her within ten feet.

Stepping barefoot from behind the curtain, the dark one folded her arms across the satin ribbon below her chest. “This is about this audience, isn’t it? I don’t get a day to myself beore I am ‘summoned’.”

Sybelle nodded, as unabashed and unashamed of her interference as she was to further intrude on Lilica’s personal space and take a handful of her dark hair into her fingers. “I’ve already told you, this is more for your own benefit than anyone else’s—would you kindly hold still? It is the last step in convincing His Majesty that you are worth the risk that we are taking in harbouring you.”

“As opposed to outright killing me. Enough of the pretense: what are you trying to make me?” A bold hand shot out to catch Sybelle’s wrist, just as the healer made to secure the lopsided weave she had crafted beneath her shoulder with a tight, back ribbon. “A threat, a diplomat, or useless? I cannot guarantee that I would succeed in any of those roles, alone, but I most certainly cannot embody all three.”

It was the Sybelle’s turn to pause in thought and consider her dark counterpart’s words. Lilica made a good point, while simultaneously diminishing her already overly grandiose hopes. She could not be all three of those things… and yet, the Silvanys daughter so desperately needed her to be at least two of them, simultaneously, if this were to pan out in such a way that benefited all parties. Shoulders slumping, she left the tip of Lilica’s braid tied in a knot, choosing not to embellish the ribbon any further. “Just… I don’t know. Yourself, I suppose; as trivial as that might seem.” The apples of her cheeks warmed. “It seems to me that you can be any of those things; that you are all of those things, if not in one way than another. As are we all. Here is the best and only suitable piece of advice that I can offer.” Her hands found their place atop the dark mage’s bony shoulders. “You know what you are capable of; as do I, as does my King. Your potential as an agent in our agenda is not what matters this time; your authenticity is. His Majesty cannot and will not be fooled by conveying false character, and you will not win him over by those means. The most direct and foolproof way to avoid the temptation to hide behind facades is foremost by being honest with yourself. Though…” Sybelle’s hands fell to her sides as she took a step back to consider Lilica as a whole. “It doesn’t hurt to appear a little less than threatening at face value. For now, at least.”

“Sounds as though you have it all figured out.” There was nothing reassuring about the noblewoman’s explanation, drowning as it was in her own uncertainty. As if she were at the reins of a chariot with a destination in mind, yet with no clear path to reach it.

But it was still a destination—still a focal point. Which was more than Lilica could say she had ever envisioned. “Let’s go, then. I’m already looking forward to the silence and solitude that you will guarantee me, afterward.”

Sybelle did not escort her to the council chamber, much to the dark mage’s unspoken relief. Given the way she had almost condemned herself the last time she had stood before his Majesty King Hesael Cilithiel, Lilica was in no hurry to see the broad expanse of that ruined chamber anytime soon. A heavy feeling in her gut made her suspect that perhaps that very hesitation was not so unknown to the other parties, which might have resulted in finding herself waiting patiently with her haughty, blonde host outside an ordinary-looking door, curiously attended by a guard on either side.

At last, a knock resonated from the other side of the door, and the taller of the two sentries moved to open it. He offered a curt nod in Lilica’s direction. “His Majesty awaits your audience.”

‘He’ has been waiting? It was all the dark one could do not to snort and roll her eyes. She chose instead to follow Sybelle’s lead and move forward; that was, at least, until the Silvanys daughter came to an abrupt halt. “I beg your pardon, sir!” Livid confusion at the sentry’s audacity to push a hand against her shoulder and prevent her entry shone in Sybelle’s cerulean eyes. “If His Majesty has been so plagued to wait, then kindly move aside.”

“Waiting for her.” The other sentry, a decidedly older man, spoke without looking up as he nodded in Lilica’s direction. “Your presence is not required, Lady Silvanys.”

“And you truly think that you are at liberty to make that decision?” It was not so much that Sybelle simply looked ready to push both men aside with her own meager might; even Lilica, who had known her for far less time, could guess that she was ready and willing to take the situation into her own hands, no matter the tactic.

The dark mage, entirely without thinking, tugged on the noblewoman’s sleeve in hopes to stay her anger. Entirely expecting to become the new, inadvertent target of her explosive ire, Lilica found herself as surprised as Sybelle for her bewildered reaction. “What were you just saying about coming across as less than intimidating?” Taking advantage of her host’s temporary speechlessness, she released her arm and moved towards the less than inviting open door. “I understood your orchestrations wouldn’t be of any use this time, anyway. Like it or not, you are going to have to trust in me.”

A declaration that felt like lead on her tongue: Nevermind that I don’t even trust in myself. With any luck, that would not matter, if honesty was indeed the catalyst for success this time.

If being the key word. Like it or not, she was just tethered to trusting in Sybelle’s outlook as the Silvanys daughter was in trusting that she would not screw this up.

Lilica, trailed by one of the guards, did not look back as she made her way into a room decidedly different from that which had fallen victim to her inadvertent chaos. In lieu of an expansive meeting chamber, purposed to accommodate the presence of more than a handful of people, she found herself instead in a cozy yet elegant study. The walls were lined with old and new tomes, many which looked as though they had not been touched in years, and aside from wall sconces strategically situated for optimal light, a desk and three chairs occupied the warm, sufficiently dark space. Two of those chairs were occupied, on one side of the desk, by the king himself, and his son. The other sat, empty and only slightly inviting, at the other side. Though it went without saying that they expected her to sit, Lilica waited for the verbal instruction, if for not other reason than because engaging these men in conversation was not among the few ways she wished to be spending her time.

“Miss Lilica.” The aged king smiled, but it was without humour or even happiness. It led her to wonder if he was as averse to this audience as she was. “You look far better than when we last spoke. I trust Lady Sybelle has shown you fairness and hospitality.”

That is one way to describe it, she thought with sarcasm, but compared to the time she had spent in their own reeking dungeon, it was a statement that bore some truth. “About as much as I can expect.” She nodded, still resisting the urge to sit down, in hopes that by standing, this would come to an end much faster. As if she had such luck.

Not another word, and his Majesty bade her to take a seat. With reluctant compliance, Lilica sat across from the King and his son, who looked as though he had more to say compared to how much he wanted to listen.

But when lowering herself into the stiff, wooden chair did not serve as a cue to commence the discussion, she refused to sit in uneasy silence while the monarch and his son deliberated what they wanted to say. “Are you going to tell me what you expect—what you want from me?” The dark mage folded her arms across her chest. It felt more comfortable than leaving herself open and vulnerable. “What about this arrangement that Sybelle put forth requires further clarification?”

King Hesael Cilithiel folded his hands in front of him, maintaining a calm and inviting visage in the face of business. His son appeared far more tense. “I did not bring you here to talk about what Lady Sybelle advocated on your behalf. It occurred to me that you have hardly been awarded the chance to speak for yourself since you were rather unjustly taken prisoner, here. So,” he lifted his shoulders and lowered them, extending one hand towards her, palm up on the shiny, ornate desk. “I implore you tell us what you want to say—not what you think we want to hear. Lady Sybelle has informed me that you are now in the know of East Amaijah’s rather dire predicament. I hope you can forgive us our drastic and impulsive drive to arrest you, but I trust that you now understand why my men deemed it necessary at the time.”

It felt like a trap; implying that there was no wrong answer provided it was her genuine answer, yet inevitably there existed an angle that would buy Lilica his favour, and an angle that would land her right back in the dungeon, where she had begun. She recounted Sybelle’s advice, word for word, and wondered to what extent her haughty hostess was sure of her own words: His Majesty cannot and will not be fooled by conveying false character, and you will not win him over by those means. The most direct and foolproof way to avoid the temptation to hide behind facades is foremost by being honest with yourself.

Even if deception, playing to the king’s whims and desires were the more attractive option, Lilica was not particularly well-versed in that art. The truth was all she had to rely on.

How she depicted it, however, was the key.

“What I want to say… I believe there are parts that you’d not like to hear.” Lilica prefaced with a deadpan look of disapproval. At least neither of the men seemed particularly surprised. “Despite what I know of your ‘predicament’, as you put it, your methods and protocol were heavy-handed and without good reason. And I would be lying to myself were I to deny the fact that, even now, I wonder if I am making the right decision in helping you at all.” There; you’ve buried yourself, that critical voice at the back of her mind sighed in cynicism.

Her shock was profound when the wrinkles around the King’s eyes creased, and he chuckled. The way you would at a child’s foolish antics; patronizing. Lilica felt she’d have preferred his disdain. “Your feelings are completely understandable, Lilica. I do not fault you for them. It only seems reasonable, then,” folding his hands in front of him, he nodded his head, “that I offer you this chance to take your leave of all of this.”

And from Lilica’s shock was born speechlessness. A moment must have passed before she was able to grasp at the words. “I beg your pardon…”

“It occurs to me, Miss Lilica, that you could not have offered your help out of interest or concern. Not under the all of the pressures and uncertainty that imprisonment entails.” The old man explained, with an air of sympathy visible in his pale eyes. “It also occurs to me that you mean us no harm—and that you never did. I therefore cannot in good conscience expect you to stay and work on our behalf.”

A test… this must be a trap. Lilica’s posture stiffened. He couldn’t be serious… but what sort of answer was he expecting? Or, more specifically, was she more likely to allow her to walk out, unscathed? “You are… saying that I am free to leave this place.” She paraphrased the King’s own words, beseeching clarification.

“Indeed. We have kept you long enough against your will.”

“And, if I were to take my leave of your Kingdom right away, without looking back… I would face no consequences?”

The old man shook his head. “None from us, I assure you. Should you wander beyond East Amaijah and into the territory of our adversaries, however, that far exceeds my ability to ascertain your safety. I cannot speak for the way in which Falna Syxer and those who follow him might react.”

Whether threat or warning, Lilica was not reassured. “I would like time to think.”

King Hesael’s pale eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting this response. “Do you mean to say you may yet be willing to help us, Lilica D’Or?”

“I mean what I said. Ten minutes ago, it was not my choice stay; but now it is, and I would like time to consider whether you and yours are worth my time and effort. If that is, of course, a reasonable request.”

The old man withdrew a moment, pressing his back to the cushion of his seat as he contemplated her request in silence. As the seconds passed, with only the thud of her heartbeat in her ears to break the silence, Lilica wondered if giving him the one answer that he clearly had not anticipated had perhaps been the wrong move. [i]He wants to think he can read me like a book,[/i] she deduced, though moments too late. By failing to accept or decline his offer, she had deviated from his expectations… thereby failing the test. If ever she had yearned to be wrong, then now was that time…

Cool eyes fixed on her face for several suspenseful heartbeats before the king spoke again. “Of course. You are fully entitled to take the time you need. In the interim, rest assured that I will not tolerate any further hostility towards you while you ponder your decision. You have my word.”

Lilica wanted to stand, but feared that her legs would not sustain her weight. She had prepared herself for fight or flight, but it had not occurred to her that she would find herself frozen with wordless astonishment. “So… this discussion has come to a close, then?” She couldn’t help but ask permission to leave. The elderly ruler’s demeanor was understanding and disarming, perhaps even trusting to a fault; enough that it incited suspicion that he could oppose his welcoming nature, just as easily.

“By all means.” King Hesael nodded toward the door, which his sentry then opened without a word. “Unless you have any further questions?”

“If I do, I’ll be sure to ask your temperamental delegate out there.” Finding the strength she required to stand, the dark mage turned and made hastily for the door, for fear the man in power might change his mind. “She seems damn assured she already knows it all. Perhaps more than even you.”

The laugh that tore from the king’s lungs was completely unexpected, enough that Lilica tensed. “Honestly, my dear,” the man chuckled and relaxed in his seat, “it wouldn’t surprise me. Not one bit.”

Lilica found that very temperamental delegate breathless from anxious pacing in the corridor. Her lower lip looked nearly bitten raw when her wide blue eyes latched onto the smaller woman. “Well? What did he have to say?” She demanded, veering close—far too close—to Lilica’s person. “This is completely unthinkable—that I would be excluded from such a discussion that I—”

“That you what? That you wished to orchestrate in your favor? Just as you have done since I was rotting in your dungeons?” Lilica turned on her heel and poised a glare so fierce at Sybelle that she thought, for the first time, might actually have frightened the hot-headed royal. Part of her reeled for not accepting the chance for freedom the second it had been put before her, choosing instead to prolong her misery at this wretched place, among these wretched people. All because she was as afraid there would be no right answer. Needless to say, she hadn’t the patience for any more of this woman’s petty puppetry.

Almost guilty at the satisfaction of watching Sybelle retreat a step, the only thing that gave the dark mage pause to reel in her frustration was the presence of the attentive guard, still standing outside the king’s study. And unlike the shocked woman before her, she didn’t have the luxury of completely losing her head and going unscathed for it. “You want to use me. Say what you want, but I think that much is clear.” She paused, as if allowing Sybelle the opportunity to deny it, yet knowing full well she wouldn’t. “But if that is our game, then it plays both ways. I get to use you, too. Your influence, and whatever it takes to make this worth my while. Or have you forgotten already?” And for further incentive, she added in a whisper, “Unless you want to risk an encore of what occurred before your oh so hallowed council, you will come through for me.”

Sybelle worked her jaw, feeling her own pulse in her face as she counted her heartbeats against her fury. That such a lowly, wretched little being of erratic darkness would dare threaten her, after she had already gone above and beyond generosity…

She was right, which was infuriating in and of itself. She did not have to emphasize why she was right.

“I find it difficult to be intimidated by someone who is already so damned afraid of themselves.” She muttered, and promptly turned, retreating down the corridor the way that they had come. Her footsteps fell heavy against the store floor. “Hurry up, then! You can stand there and continue to call me a liar, or come and find out why you are wrong.”

“I had better be wrong.” Lilica breathed, saving the words only for herself, and followed Sybelle’s long and self-righteous strides at a safe walking pace.

I want to be wrong.