From Silver and Chaos

Copper

Chapter 26: Copper

The emperor's bedroom held no whisper of the tablet. I had snuck away through the servants' halls with Croia after lunch the very next day, but I had felt nothing. The room had been enormous and opulent, with a poster bed so large that the entire inner circle of the Legion could have lain in it without bumping against each other. I attended luncheons, more 'training' sessions which was just a chance for the lords and ladies of the emperor's court to show their prestige. They were skilled people, but I amused myself by imagining whose nerve would hold in the heat of battle. That their dresses of satin and silk would be hard armour. Their unmarked hands sullied by grime, crusted by the blood of those they had slain. I had to stop after that, feeling frustration build at the sight of them.

Did they even understand what was happening in the east, the north, the south? Outside their borders, death and disease tracked the ordinary people of Cadelith. People that they referred to as little more than their own chattel – creatures to control. Like the cows that gave them milk, these farmers, these peasants were the creatures that grew their crops, who fished their waters for them. I had understood humans to have little regard for the nature around them, but in these luncheons and parties, I understood that many have of them had as little regard for their own species.

On my third day in Naredan, I dressed in one of the gowns that Fyr had specially ordered for me. It was a gown of pale blue, with a squared neckline that gave illumination to the mark burned into the hollow of my throat. The sleeves were short and capped with a thread of silver. The same, reliable net of pearls held back my hair and the skirts of the dress were light and breezy. There was another party down at the quay – a private inlet accessed only by the palace. The great square was paved with grey stone veined with white.

From my arrival, I was spun between different conversations. I felt like a prized pig, an entertainment piece for these people whose names fell from my mind like rain drops. There were women and men there with silver painted along their veins and the Legion's mark inked onto their hands and just at the hollow of their throats. Some even, had a streak of silver in their hair that I spent too long marvelling at. At least, if someone tried to assassinate me here, it would be harder to spot me.

By my fourth conversation with a painted silver lady about whether there was soap in the North-East of Cadelith, I thought that this torturous event was nearly over. The path marked in the sky told me that not even an hour of the day had passed. When she continued her tangent about soap, convinced that she was right – even though I had confirmed she had never left the city of Naredan before - Mahon came to save me.

With the full force of Mahon's disapproving glare, she was soon dispelled. I wished I could just stand there and repel all irritating people from my presence.

I took a breath. Blinked at the sky, then at the ocean. Then at finery around us. Tables were dotted around the area, laden with bright food that was too small to fill a stomach on their own. Servants swanned through the crowd, holding trays with delicate crystal flutes filled with a shimmering, pale gold liquid.

"Do not drink one of those," Mahon eyed them critically.

"Are you afraid of what will happen when I drink human alcohol?" I murmured back.

His fingers skimmed down my spine. A light, quick touch. "No. I would just assume that they are easily poisoned, and you are an individual that many want to see dead."

"Ah. That makes more sense."

"This is why you are not paid to think in the Legion, Seeker." As always, thoughts of my possible demise rankled him. Like a bear woken too early from hibernation, he was incensed. Suspicious. At least he did not have the claws.