38
The escorts led them to a compound, deep in the heart of the city, city folk jumping out of the way to allow the procession through, muttering and gossiping about the group and their horses. Not to mention Barsa. Ylthara paid no attention to any of them, walking with her back straight, head held high, projecting her royalty for all to see.
Outside the compound, some twenty Hagragng soldiers stood guard, while, inside, a similar number of Ice-Kin stood their ground, as though locked in a battle of wills. Ylthara mentioned that, although relations had thawed between the two nations, trust was a difficult thing to give after so many years of antagonism.
Now, Únik found herself in a room within the Ūtharan compound that could fit both her burned down house and her rendering hut with room to spare. She sat upon the comfortable, large bed, Barsa laid at her feet, uncertain of what she should do. The surroundings, though sparse, had a luxury to them that Únik thought she could never become used to.
After a few minutes alone, a procession of Ice-Kin walked into her room, causing her to jump from the bed through fear they would evict her. Two carried in a large wooden tub, placing it in the corner, followed by a line of others, male and female, carrying jugs of steaming water. Before long, the tub had become filled and the Ice-Kin left, never saying a word.
Únik dipped a finger into the hot water, pulling back as the heat prickled her skin. She assumed they expected her to bathe and, in all honesty, Únik felt grateful for the opportunity. Her usual bathing routine involved fast scrubs with cloths, back at Tracis' Midden, where even Summer months were far too cold to sit in a tub for too long.
After half-an-hour of soaking within the comforting grasp of the hot water, more Ice-Kin appeared to top up the water, causing Únik to scramble to cover her breasts and stomach. The Ice-Kin, of course, cared little for her nakedness. Like Hatyara, they wore the gossamer thin, silken gauze clothing of Alharai, showing almost everything of their bodies. Únik could never feel so shameless.
Once she had finished bathing, she dried herself with a towel so soft, she could have used it for a covering for her bed. A thin, wrap-around robe, found upon a hook behind the door, covered her blushes as yet more Ice-Kin arrived, carrying various items of clothing, laying them on the bed and leaving. Once again, not a word escaped them and none gave her a second glance.
Ylthara, and Únik assumed it was she that had sent the clothing, had chosen clothes that Únik would not find unsuitable. Good, strong woollen clothing. Breeches instead of a dress and a shirt that fitted to perfection, a sturdy pair of calf-length boots finishing the ensemble. The underclothes, likewise, were simple and without any ostentation. Ylthara knew Únik would not enjoy wearing Ūtharan clothing.
Dressed, Únik sat upon the bed once more, hands clutched in her lap, worried that her awkward body would break something, she wondered what she should do. Lifting her hand to her head, she felt her damp hair within her fingers, knotted and longer than she liked to keep it. Looking around, she saw a table in the corner of the room and a brush upon it.
While brushing her hair, Ylthara charged into the room and Únik could do nothing but stand there, brush half-way through her hair, mouth opened in shock and awe. The transformation was complete. Gone was the rough and ready Ylthara, one of the warriors upon the journey. Now she stood before Únik, prince of Alharai and dressed accordingly.
She looked magnificent.
"She refused!" Walking past Únik, Ylthara dropped back onto the bed, hands covering her face. "The damned fool refused an audience! I blame her advisors. Those bastards want a war, I'm certain of it."
"Is there nothing that can be done." Self-conscious, Únik finished brushing her hair and moved to replace the brush. She stopped, pulled the strands of her hair from the teeth of the brush and looked around for somewhere to throw them away.
Looking across to Ylthara, Únik could see how distressed the Ice-Kin was. She held her fists tight against her face, knuckles turning white. Únik could see, now, how different she was to her sister. Not only in looks. Though she shared the same hair and eyes, Ylthara was taller and more well-developed than her older sister. The silken gauze clothing showed off every curve, every taut muscle of Ylthara's body as though she wore no clothing at all.
The largest difference, however, came in their personalities. Hatyara always held herself reserved, only allowing emotion to appear on rare occasions, unwilling to give anything away about her thoughts and feelings. Ylthara wore every thought and emotion for all to see, though Únik didn't doubt she could hide them as well as her sister, if she so wished.
"There's plenty that can be done. It's whether we have the time. If Hatyara reaches the city, meets King Vraniik, that will be the end of it. War. And every Ice-Kin in this city will be imprisoned or killed before the day is out." Turning on to her side, Ylthara curled her legs up, laying her head upon her hands, staring at Únik. "I've asked Turug to recruit others in the Hagragng army, to place them at the bridges to stop Hatyara entering the city, but that assumes he can find enough to rally to our cause."
Únik almost withered under the unflinching gaze of Ylthara, fidgeting with the strands of hair between her fingers, rolling them into a ball. She could see Ylthara's body through the thin, colourful silk of her clothing. A band of the material wrapped around her chest, leaving her shoulders bare, but connected to sleeves upon her arms that ended in a 'V' atop the back of her hand.
She wore the same, wide, blouson pantaloons as her sister, tight around her backside that, it seemed clear, held no underwear beneath, the blue of her skin visible through the material. Her brilliant white hair lay in a halo about her, no longer tied in the practical ponytail, but in loose curls, freshly washed and dressed, strings of pearls weaved within the strands.
"Then you must insist on seeing the King. Make her understand." Frustrated with herself, Únik flicked the tiny ball of hair behind her and hoped Ylthara didn't see. "I don't really understand courtly matters. Why does she listen to others when you warn her of danger."
"Because she fears treachery. Patrons know my people have done horrible things in the past. So have the Hagragng. Trust is difficult. And if her advisors are rooting to start a war, they'll press that distrust as far as it will go." With a sigh, Ylthara turned onto her back once more. She glanced towards Únik. "What are you doing over there? Come, lay beside me. I need a hug."
"Is that an order from a Prince?" Stepping back, Únik bumped the table behind her, causing a snort of a laugh to erupt from Ylthara.
"No. It's a request." Leaning upon her elbow, Ylthara patted the bed beside her, raising a cheeky eyebrow. "From a friend."
Nervous, making hesitant steps, Únik moved towards the bed, sitting down on the very edge. She had felt similar nerves after awakening beside Ylthara, back in the inn at Guhugng. She had never found a woman attractive, certainly not an Other-Kin woman, but something about Ylthara caused those self-same butterflies to flutter in her stomach and chest that she had felt upon meeting her husband for the first time.
Ylthara pulled at Únik's sleeve, drawing her down to the bed and wrapping her arms around her. Únik stiffened but then tried to relax, not wanting to cause Ylthara any hurt. For long moments, Ylthara said nothing, nuzzling her face into Únik's shoulder, making the occasional sigh until she became silent. Únik thought she had fallen asleep.
"If you're tired, you should go to your own room." Tapping Ylthara on the shoulder, she saw the Ice-Kin's eyes rise to hers.
"I like it here." Ylthara brushed a strand of hair from Únik's forehead and smiled. "You've changed. Your hair has grown and you've lost weight. I think you were more cuddly before."
"I suppose you'll make me eat more, then?" Feeling certain that Ylthara could feel the thumping of her heart, Únik tried to move back an inch, but Ylthara wouldn't have none of it. "Just to make me cuddly again."
"No. You are beautiful whatever size your body is. Eat what you want. Anything you want. It's right here for you." Ylthara's hand moved behind Únik's head, fingers trailing from the nape of her neck, into her hair.
"Your highness!" The voice came from the doorway and Únik felt Ylthara's fingers curl at the sound.
"Doesn't anyone knock around here?" With a furious tone, Ylthara sat up on the bed, leaving Únik laid on her side, attempting to calm the beat of her heart. "What do you want?"
"An invitation, your highness. From the King." The servant held up a piece of card, bearing an impressive seal.
Taking one last look at Únik, Ylthara rose from the bed, her hand trailing down Únik's leg before reaching out for the invitation. Scowling as she read, Ylthara shooed the servant away without looking at him and then turned. She had one of those grins on her face that Únik had seen more than a few times and she gripped the invitation in her hand as though she had triumphed.
-+-
With an escort of both Hagragng and Ūtharan soldiers surrounding them, Ylthara dragged Únik through impossibly crowded streets. The Ice-Kin Prince seemed to know exactly where to go, turning down streets without hesitation, holding Únik's hand tight as they navigated through throngs of the many and varied peoples.
"Where are we going? Shouldn't we be preparing to stop Hatyara?" Tripping over her own feet, Únik tried her best not to look at Ylthara's buttocks as they moved.
The feelings that had crept up on her, almost reaching a crescendo in her room, meant her face felt as thought it were on fire. Ylthara wore the traditional clothing of the Ice-Kin and it left little to the imagination, causing whispers from among the crowds that Únik couldn't fail to hear. Whispers from all kinds of people.
From the shock of Hagragng observers, sensibly dressed according to the chilly nature of the area, to outright admiration from the few Ice-Kin they passed, though they dressed not nearly as immodest, tempering their clothing for the area. Even the dog-like Kannai, the bark-skinned Fae and the stone-skinned Driadin commented at the dress and beauty of Ylthara.
"I need you out of those clothes." Realising those words could mean something else after the tense situation in Únik's room, Ylthara raised her eyebrows in thought. "I mean, I need you in something more appropriate for a Countess of Uriok."
"'A Countess of Uriok'? What does that mean?" Looking down at the fine, thick woollen clothing as they walked, Únik continued to feel the tug of Ylthara's hand. "What's wrong with these clothes? They're practical. I like them."
Stopping dead in the middle of the thin street, forcing people to move around them and their escort, Ylthara took both of Únik's hands in hers. She seemed to consider her next words with great care and Únik felt self-conscious about the scene they made. The susurration of the crowd's whispers rising as people had to squeeze past them.
"I may have said you were a Countess in my acceptance of the invitation to tonight's ball." Pursing her lips, widening her eyes and inclining her head in apology, Ylthara seemed to think that was all the explanation Únik needed.
"I'm not a Countess, of Uriok or anywhere. Look at me! I'm a fat scavenger from Tracis' Midden!" Gripping Ylthara's hands, Únik stopped the Ice-Kin from turning and continuing on their secret quest. "Why have you told anyone that? And a ball? I can't go to a ball. I wouldn't know how to act."
"It's easy. You just stick your nose in the air, look bored and pretend you find everything absolutely tedious. You'll be fine." Ylthara could see that her explanations were explaining nothing and gave a little groan. "This is our chance. Don't you see? The King's advisors put paid to an audience, but the King, herself, must want to hear what I have to say. That's the purpose of this ball, nothing more. And I need you right by my side to help."
This time Ylthara decided she had explained enough, dragging Únik onwards until they reached a square filled with shops and market stalls, hawkers and merchant carts. The entirety of Únik's home village could have sat within that square. Ylthara knew exactly where she needed to go, heading straight for one shop at the other side of the square.
Once inside, the sounds of the city became diminished and Únik almost relaxed. She could not get used to the sounds, so loud and harsh. Voices mingling and mixing to a point where she couldn't understand any of what she heard. Even with their escorts, she had flinched and cowered away from passing elbows and fleeting fingers that sent terrifying shivers down her back. She decided that, as soon as this was all over, she was going back where seeing more than one person in a month was a memorable event. She didn't even want to think about the smells.
Únik realised that Ylthara had dragged her into a clothiers and the Ice-Kin took no time before shuffling her hands through rack upon rack of dresses. Únik had never seen so many colours in one place. Not the mixed, light colouring of Ylthara's Ūtharan clothing, but bold, bright colours, the kind that Únik only had vague memories of from her youth.
Without giving the shopkeeper any time to greet them, Ylthara had already taken several Uriok noble style dresses from the racks, holding them up against Únik's body and tossing them aside with a shake of the head. Únik understood Ylthara had little time to work with, but she doubted the Ice-Kin could make decent decision at the speed she checked and discarded the garments.
Uttering a loud 'aha', Ylthara dropped the remaining dresses in her hands into the arms of the stunned shopkeeper, using two hands now to hold a dress against Únik's body with a look of concentration upon her face. She clicked her tongue several times, assessing the dress.
"This is hopeless. No-one will think I'm a Countess. I doubt they have enough material in this shop to make a dress big enough as it is." She tried to push the dress away. "You'll just have to go alone. If the King listens to you, I can add my voice once the ball is over, in private, away from the real nobility."
"Have this taken in by an inch around the waist. The hips are fine, but the bust will need to come out by another half-inch. No more, no less. Understand?" Ylthara folded the dress up and passed it to the shopkeeper who looked Únik up and down and nodded in agreement. "Now, shoes and hair."
Únik felt as though caught up in one of Ylthara's conjured whirlwinds. Tossed and turned by the gusts and bursts of energy with no understanding where the gales would carry her next. She tried to catch a sympathetic eye from their escorts, but she knew none of them and dearly wished Bohyiris had accompanied them. He seemed the only one that had the ability to calm anyone down.
The following minutes passed by in a blur, where Ylthara dragged Únik to one shop or another, searching for the perfect pair of shoes to accompany the dress. Or so Ylthara insisted. For some reason, it took longer to find the shoes than it did for Ylthara to choose the dress and Únik didn't have a chance to see which ones Ylthara chose before the Ice-Kin almost pulled her arm from her socket, setting off to their next port of call.
Únik felt almost as exhausted as though she had ridden all day, except, this time, she didn't have the pain-filled backside to prove she had done anything. When Ylthara sat her down in another shop building that reeked of exotic scents and water, she found herself subjected to someone picking and plucking at her hair before she saw a pair of small sheers pass before her eyes.
With a stern push upon her shoulders, Ylthara stopped Únik from running from the shop in a blind panic. The Ice-Kin stood before her, then, arms crossed, with a look upon her face that would brook no argument. Únik couldn't argue much, anyway, as she felt her heart almost exploding at the sheer beauty of Ylthara.
"This all feels really tight." Not for the first time since leaving that shop, Únik felt her hand slapped away as she raised it towards her head. "It feels like my hair is being pulled out at the roots. Why couldn't I just brush it?"
"Because." Ylthara gave no different response than she had given the other times Únik had asked the same question.
They had returned to the clothiers and Únik doubted that the shopkeeper had had anywhere near enough time to alter the dress in such a short time. Not that it made an ounce of a difference to Únik. She knew, no matter what miracle the seamstress performed, that she would do nothing but embarrass Ylthara. The entirety of this day was nothing more than an exercise in futility.
Every time Únik flinched as Ylthara and the seamstress tugged and pulled at the dress, Ylthara would give Únik a tap on the thigh and a deadly glare until Únik stood still long enough for them to drag the dress up, past her chubby legs, over her enormous backside and into the tight sleeves. She felt hands press upon her spine as the ties became tugged tight and fastened behind her and slouched her shoulders in disgust at the fussing over someone such as herself.
"This is all pointless. I'm not even wearing a corset! I'm only going to embarrass you in front of everybody. I can hear them already, pointing and laughing." She felt like crying. She had never expected Ylthara to play such cruel jokes upon her. Even as Ylthara turned her around, Únik felt tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "Take it off. I'm not going. I just look ..."
"Beautiful." Stood beside Únik, Ylthara almost whispered that word as the seamstress removed a cover from the finest quality, silver-backed glass mirror Únik had ever seen.