In Her Shadow(7)

She wiped her tears with the edge of her black cloak while they waited for a guard to appear. When one did, he looked surprised at their presence. "No one told me you lot were coming," he said in a thick Regnal accent. "Here to entertain the new Dux? Wouldn't bother. He's the stuffy sort."

The Abbess of Night narrowed her eyes. "You dare speak to the Abbess of Night and her New Moon that way? Let us in this instant."

The guard's mouth bobbed like a fish. "Yes, ma'am. Of course, ma'am." He fiddled around with a pouch on his belt until he pulled out the key. Squinting as he fumbled in the darkness, he unlatched the gate. It swung open. The guard gave a bow. "Follow me, please. I – I don't think the Governor and Dux Lucius are expecting you."

Dux Lucius? Britta wanted to ask who that was. It took a few steps up the path towards the manse for her to realize that was the Governor's son's name. Why hadn't anyone told her before? The answer was obvious: because Governors in the imperial regime came and went, especially in a city as unruly as Ankshara. Therefor, the name of his son was irrelevant until the marriage was close.

And here it was, right in her face like the door to the manse. The guard opened it, motioning them inside. They went into the brightly lit ballroom that served as the manse's entrance hall.

"I'll go find the Governor," said the guard before vanishing up the stairs.

"Surely he expected us to come as soon we heard his son had arrived. Why wasn't anyone here to greet us?" asked Weboshi. "Very rude. Are they trying to blow this treaty by insulting us?"

The Abbess of Night's face creased like a wooden puppet painted with crows' feet. She looked more annoyed than angry, though, as her beady old eyes swept the ballroom. "No," she said. "I mean, they are trying to insult us. It's a power play for sure, to remind us that the Governor is in charge and that I – we – are beneath him, not important enough to be greeted formally. But he's no fool. He wouldn't want to–"

The Abbess's gaze locked on a door opening on the stairway above them. The Governor stepped out. Dressed in the light linen tunic of his people, his legs bare, cinched with a piece of leather, he looked like he was ready to go out farming, not prepared to meet dignitaries or his future daughter-in-law.

He smiled as he looked down on them from above – a smile of false paternity that struck Britta in every way insincere. He came down the stairs towards them, arms wide. The priestesses parted as he approached the Abbess of Night. "Ah, Abbess, my dear." The two embraced and he gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. "It's been too long. You should visit more. What brings you out this late?"

"You know why we've come, Governor, to introduce bride and groom."

"He only arrived at dusk. How did you find out he was in town so quickly?"

The Abbess of Night lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course, you know everything that happens in this city. It's almost as if you think you still run it."

The priestesses gasped, even Britta. A smile passed across the Abbess's face. "Which is why I thought it best to hurry along. We mustn't put off concluding the last bit of business in our treaty. Fifteen years is a long time to wait for a permanent peace."

"Oh, I agree, but surely it could have waited. Allow my son a couple days to adjust to his new home before–"

"No, I don't think so."

The Governor stared at her like a man unused to being cut off.

"I've heard the young man is a Disciple of the Sun Triumphant," said the Abbess. "Surely he'd relish the chance to get to business straight away, prove a move from one end of the empire to the other isn't enough to disturb his. . . What do they call it, Weboshi?"

"'Solar Resolve.'"

"Oh yes, 'Solar Resolve.'"

The Governor cleared his throat. "Alright then," he said. "No use putting it off, I suppose. Of course, my cooks didn't know you were coming, so they've not prepared a meal for such a large party. You're welcome to eat with my family tonight, Abbess of Night, but I'm afraid the rest of your priestesses–"

"Not me," she said. The Abbess reached behind her and yanked Britta forward, face to face with the Governor. "Her. The New Moon. She will eat with you."

"Uh–" The Governor narrowed his eyes as he looked Britta up and down. She blushed, unable to raise her gaze from the floor. Why was that? She'd never been shy before. Of course, she'd never been so plainly ogled before. Was that the word? It wasn't as if he were leering at her in a salacious way; more like a man inspecting a piece of fruit as he considered buying it. "She doesn't look at me," he said. "We don't care for them docile where I'm from."

"I – I'm not docile," said Britta, though the stuttering, wavering sound in her voice made her wonder if that were entirely true.

"What was that?" he asked. "I can't hear you."

Britta lifted her gaze to meet his, locking eyes and furrowing brow. "I'm not docile," she said.

The Governor's expression remain unchanged. "Ah."

A fog of tension settled on the group. Britta's sisters shifted foot to foot behind her; their robes rustled against their cloaks, but Britta didn't look away from her future father-in-law. After a moment, he gave a slight nod and said, "Very well then. Let's go. The rest of you can leave. I'll make sure she gets home safe."