Holding a heavy kai coin in her fingers, Fang stared at herself in the huge gilded mirror and carefully pressed it to the space between her eyebrows. Leaning over the vanity she let the coin drop into her hand and looked up, smiling at the perfect imprint of the rampant beast painted in gold and transferred to her skin. "What do you think?"
Valen leaned close, tipping her chin up with his good hand and turning her head. He had found her experimenting when he'd come back from his ride with Benna, and for the last half-hour he'd been sitting with her at her dressing-table watching her play around with red, gold, white and black. "I like it, but it needs something else..." He turned back to the vanity and looked over the collection of tiny glass pots and silver-handled brushes. "Hngh," he picked up the smallest brush and touched the fine hairs into a pot of red pigment, then made a tiny dot on the beast's head. "There, now he has an eye."
Fang turned to see, and grinned at the little creature painted on her forehead. "Yes, that's perfect!" She took the brush from him, cleaned it, and set it back in its case with the others. Picking a thicker brush, she mixed the red pigment with some teaflower oil and made a paste to paint on her lips, drawing them just a little bit fuller than normal and giving herself a rich, plush pout. "How's this?" she asked after tapping some more powder on to set the color.
"Hmm..." Valen sat back to look at the whole effect, then leaned in again to examine more closely. Fang watched his eyes and ears, judging his interest by how wide or narrow his pupils went and how high his ears rose. When his ears lay relaxed against his head and his pupils fattened Fang knew he liked it. "I'm more used to gold or black, but red always looks good on you. It's going to look really good with your robes."
Fang glanced to the enormous wrapped package lying on their bed – her gown, ordered weeks ago and finally delivered, could easily be considered Arban's best work and would probably be the most talked-about piece of clothing in the Empire. Made from white silk, unusual for Drass clothes by tradition, it sported trailing sleeves and a train half-again as long as the gown itself; gold brocade set with Dreenai pearls and white sapphires transformed the outer robe into a dazzling yet elegant display of Drassian history, the rampant beast shimmering along the bottom hem and the various seals of the Empire rising up the back in a column like Drass calligraphy. It looks like a wedding dress, Fang had remarked upon seeing it, baffled that she would be wearing something so mindbogglingly gorgeous; truthfully, it was the wedding dress to end all wedding dresses in that she would be wearing it when Valen declared her, in front of his family and millions of watching Drass and humans, his Lady Consort. Aisana will be eating her hearts out when she sees it.
Since the incident with Tias, life in the palace had been relatively quiet save for the constant organized chaos of preparing for the Federation Envoy's reception. As far as she could tell, Madame Chatterjee had gone back to her reserved suite in Kitsara ready to fight for Valen's colony – evidently Fang's suggestion that he speak to the envoy as he would her had gone well, and Fang hadn't missed the bright color rising in Remitha's cheeks the longer Valen held eye contact and gave the impression that he was subtly seducing her. The older woman – and Fang knew Valen preferred women older than himself – had responded just as Fang thought she would, fidgeting with her clothes and fumbling her words. She'd been slightly embarrassed when Fang entered the conference room, as if she'd been entertaining some ideas best left untried.
"I have something else for you," Valen's voice drew Fang out of her thoughts suddenly. "I didn't want to mention it until it was done, but it arrived last night and I'd like to see what you think of it."
Fang smiled. "Is it more jewelry?" Though new clothes still arrived regularly, her collection of necklaces, rings, earrings, chains, chokers, bangles, hair accessories and more was already enormous and she'd lost track of just how much she owned in spite of the itemized catalog with each piece numbered and stored with its related parts. And that didn't even begin to compare to her collections of soaps, perfumes, hair oils, scented skin creams and cosmetics – what Valen wasn't buying for her arrived in decorated boxes from vendors all around Kitsara, full-size samples of every luxury beauty product made in the port city. Once word had gotten around about the pint-size Dragon Prince's female companion, it seemed the whole Empire was vying for her favor.
"Sort of," Valen shrugged and stood from the bench. He went to his side of the bed and pulled a large black box from under it, setting it on top of the quilts and gesturing for her to come over. "I thought this would be something that will make everyone see you as a Drassian, something they'll recognize and understand that no matter what happens, you're equal with Aisana, Shisa and Yena." When Fang came to stand at his side he signaled her to open it. The box, surprisingly large for what Fang thought to be jewelry, was held closed with a latch she could undo by twisting a knob and as she did so the lid popped open a finger's width. Fang looked at Valen and he nodded. "Just like everything else I've bought you, this is yours, too." Lifting the lid Fang expected a full set, perhaps a sparkling tiara, bangles, rings, earrings and many-chained necklaces. What she actually found caused her heart to stall and her hands to go cold and numb. Oh...
A tiara it was not, and neither was it a crown or a diadem or anything she'd seen the other Ladies wearing, because it far exceeded what any of them owned and anything Fang had seen. Horns, curling arches of gold banded with chips of diamonds and rubies, sat upon a headdress that Fang knew just by looking at it would fit only her, arching as Valen's did over the curve of her skull before sweeping back up to points wrapped in hammered silver and draped in gold chains as fine as threads. At the horns' bases rosettes of jewels competed for space among braided gold wire, and a fall of gold lace started at the back of each horn in long streamers wrapped around wooden dowels to keep their shape while in the box. While Fang stared, Valen slid his hands under the horns and raised them from the velvet-lined box, turning and presenting them to Fang with an expression that was difficult to read; by the stillness of his ears and tail he was likely consciously controlling them until he saw her reaction. Fang stared at him, realizing her mouth hung open in wild astonishment and clapping it shut.
"Sit, I'd like to see it on you before anyone else."
"Valen..." Her voice squeaked, the shock tightening her throat. It's too much, way too much! Lady Aisana will lose her mind if she sees it, she's going to be the next Dragon Empress, not me! "It... it's huge, are you sure it's not too much?" It wasn't, not in size, but its significance dwarfed the gown and her new title. With horns, she would become a real Drassian not just in name but in reality.
"Not for a Lady Consort. Please, sit." Too stunned to argue, Fang gathered the skirts of her green dressing-gown and reclaimed her spot on the vanity bench. Valen had her face the mirror and he stood behind her while she pulled her hair back. "Bring some forward," he requested, "you want to show off as much length as you can."
Fang pulled two long pieces over her shoulders, draping them so that they hung prominently against the lapels of the dressing-gown. Valen raised the headdress, letting the rolls of gold lace fall and unravel, and Fang held her breath as the horns descended onto her head. Fighting the urge to shut her eyes, she blinked and hoped that the tears she was holding back wouldn't escape. The headdress settled, its cushioned lining resting surprisingly easy on her hair, the fit as perfect as it was beautiful. And though it was a heavy piece, it wasn't quite as ungainly or unstable as Fang worried they might be and she turned her head from one side to the other to admire it. So this is what it's like to have horns. She watched the chains swing with her movements, polished precious stones winking in her vanity's light, and felt out how far she could lean her head back or forward before she became unsteady. I'd look like an idiot if they fell off.
"What do you think?" Valen asked. Fang saw his hands rise behind her, pause, then settle on her shoulders in a cautiously tender way; from his ears and tail Fang could see he was anxious about her reaction to the gift.
"It's beautiful," she assured him. "I guess I really do look like a Drassian now. Are you sure 'Sana won't come after me when she sees me wearing this?" The significance of the gift wasn't lost on her – the moment she appeared in front of the cameras wearing her utterly stunning gown and this magnificent headpiece, everyone who saw her would know she was much, much more than just a courtesan.
"Come after you? No, of course not." On her shoulders, his hands relaxed. "My brother's hearts might explode, but I've been wanting to see that for a long time. 'Sana will be shocked like everyone else, but once I've done my part it's done – we'll take everyone by surprise so by the time they realize what happened, it'll be too late."
Fang nodded, her new horns remarkably steady. "Sounds familiar."
"Hngh, where do you think I got the idea? At least I asked you before I did it."
True... But she'd been partly to blame, she'd signed her life away in a rush because Tias had sprung it on her at the last moment. And she had jumped into bed with Valen without knowing who he really was; it could have been far worse than it was. "I guess... I guess I'm just nervous."
"I'm always nervous before something like this," Valen began to squeeze her shoulder with his good hand, pressing his thumb into the flesh behind her neck. "Even when all I ever did was skulk around avoiding the children and my brothers, I still hated the time just waiting for it. I just wanted to get it over with so I could come back here and read."
Fang made her shoulders relax. "So you're saying this feeling doesn't go away."
"Not in my experience, I just got better at pretending to look bored. Which you will be sooner or later, probably in the middle of all the speeches."
"Ugh," Fang made a face. "Tias isn't going to speak, is he?"
"Probably not, since this isn't his reception anymore." Valen grinned in the mirror. "We'll be the center of attention, and he'll hate it but he can't do anything about it." The grin hovered for a moment until Valen caught her eyes in the glass, then his expression changed to something closer to guilt. His touch on her shoulders softened, becoming less of a rub and more of a protective grasp. "Um, Fang, I..." He stopped abruptly and Fang watched him, trying to guess as what he was thinking or feeling from the change in his eyes, ears and tail. The Dragon Prince seemed to be struggling with something, the words he wanted sticking somewhere in his throat and he stood behind her with his mouth half-open but silent. After a moment, "Er, Fang, we've... we've been working together for a while, and... It's going really well, I think. I mean, um, what I'm trying to say... is..."
Fang turned on the bench. "What is it?" She reached up to touch his hand and he slipped them away. "Valen, what's wrong?"
"Ah, nothing," he shook his head, but as he resumed speaking his eyes cast about on the floor. "It's just that we've put so much into this, I don't want to see it fail. I don't want to disappoint you, I don't want all of this to be for nothing. I promised I'd free you, I'm not going to go back on that promise."
"I know that," Fang continued to turn, bringing one knee up onto the bench's cushioned top. "I see how hard you've worked on this, and I know you're doing a lot of it for me. You're not going to disappoint me, Valen, not as hard as you're trying."
Valen looked at her, forcing his eyes up to hers. Fang recognized the deep sadness in them from the night they met. He'd been so lonely and hopeless back then, discouraged and blaming himself for his shortcomings; Fang hadn't seen that sadness in a long time and its presence alarmed her. "I just want this to work," he said, his orange eyes dark as his brows drew together. "I want you to be able to choose where you go, when you go. Your freedom is the most important thing to me, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you get it."