Fifth word

The celebration arrived, and Fati found something new to complain about every couple of minutes. Her complaints were minor at first. She began with the color of the tablecloth, the temperature of the room, the cut of so-and-so’s dress, and so on. 

I responded with hums and automatic nods, having nothing of value to say, until Valkom and Chaya made their entrance.

“He’s going to have to look at that nose for the rest of his life,” she said sourly. 

We had gotten ready together, as we always had, and she hadn’t asked about the dinner with Valkom and Chaya at any point. She skirted around the subject because she didn’t want to hear it… on the chance I liked Chaya.

“Can we not talk badly about the Rudarians? It defeats the purpose of this whole ordeal.” I worded my request as Fati-friendly as I could. 

“They are thieves!” she exclaimed in a not-so-hushed tone. “Everyone knows it, no one is trying to hide it.” 

“That was a hundred years ago. You act as if we didn’t have slaves up until the last century.” 

I don’t know why she scoffed at the comment. Our involvement with the slave trade was well-documented and rightfully scrutinized. She didn’t care if she or I was right, she wanted me to validate her, and I wasn’t relenting. 

I took a cinnabiscuit from one of the desert tables and bit into it. The family cook back in Zapide had the tendency to overdo it with the cinnamon. But at the Court of Gaidos everything was impeccable. The biscuit melted into a sweet blend of flavors in my mouth.

When we came out into proper society, Fati and I came to court together. Our first week at the Palace of Bevij felt like a life built for the Gods, neither of us had ever seen anything like it. As during our youth, we spent our time with Valkom in the old Castle in Zapide. 

Before King Bevij decided to construct this private heaven and rename the country after himself, this whole area was called Pidere and its capital Zapide. The old castle is a very traditional storybook castle, a little worn from the years, but it remains a staple of my youth and home life. A place that never lost its ‘magic’.

The Palace of Bevij lost its charm shortly after our arrival, it became both the place where I first started living, and where I stopped living.

Mid-my internal monologue, Chaya noticed us from the other side of the hall and waved. She stopped and conversed with a couple of nobles on her way over, spending a good amount of time with each of them. Fati groaned when she realized that she was making her way towards us, and I gave her a sharp look that silenced her promptly.

“Lior, it’s so good to see you. That dress is stunning. I wish I could wear clothes like that, instead of this.” 

Like the gown she’d worn to dinner, that evening’s attire was provided to her by the Court of Gaidos. A bigger, unfathomably gaudier gown.

Big gowns were in fashion then, a trend I strayed far from. When I was unable to get away wearing pants, I wore simple dresses without the wide skirt hoop.

“She’s really the only person who can pull off that style, don’t you think?” Fati noted, glancing over the woman’s wardrobe with half-lidded eyes. 

“Oh? This is true, you have to be tall to pull it off.” That was a knowing jab at Fati’s height. While I was proud of Chaya for holding her own, another part of me wished that she hadn’t led with that. 

Granted, Fati wouldn't have liked her regardless. 

“Anyway,” I steered the conversation into another topic, “How are you enjoying the celebration?” 

“I want to leave, but I suppose it’s too early for that,” she teased, avoiding Fati’s scowl.

Fati took personal offense at the jest however, and protested, “It is in your honor! It wouldn’t sit well with anyone, I imagine.” 

“Give it an hour at least,” I said, smiling. 

Chaya, with a knowing grin, looked back and forth between Fati and I.  “Very well, what are you doing then? Are you presently occupied?”

“We’re not,” I answered before Fati could say otherwise. “These parties tend to drag.” 

“Then would you mind dancing with me?” 

I hadn’t expected the question, and that delayed my response. I thought of those in attendance and how they would find something to criticize her for, regardless of whether she followed tradition or not. 

“You should dance with Valkom first,” I said, despite what I wanted to say.

Her enthusiasm didn’t fade, she persisted, “I can dance with him after. It will make a greater statement if I dance with you first. My dancing with Valkom is expected and means nothing. It is a treaty between our nations and nothing else. But if I dance with you, it means you have accepted me, and with your acceptance there is hope for peaceful discourse between our nations.” 

How perceptive of our culture. I nodded, not daring to glance at Fati.

 “You’re right,” I held out my hand and she took it. 

My efforts to lead were fumbled. She wasn’t familiar with Bevij’s formal dances, so we were on level ground.  As expected, people whispered in hushed tones. If they were good or bad things I would never know, but I suspected the latter. Valkom watched us, a wide grin plastered on his face. We made our way to his side of the dance floor and I let him take it from there. 

She mouthed a ‘thank you’ as he swept her back onto the floor. Unlike myself, he knew how to lead, and the difference was apparent in an instant. 

Still, it had been a good idea on Chaya’s part and I had no reservations regarding it. I searched the room for Fati, and when I found her, she was shaking her head and grumbling around. 

“What was that?” she frowned. I knew her well, she wasn’t upset, she was irritated.

“Do you want me to be mean to her? I’m sure she would rather be back home and not here.”  I was trying to be sensible. Her intentions weren’t to take her frustrations out on me, even as she did exactly that. 

She folded her arms over her chest, too stubborn to relent regardless of what she thought was true.

“You don’t have to pretend to like her.” 

“I’m not you Fati, I’m not pretending, I actually like her.” 

That was a low blow, I was wholly aware of it. It was well known that the reason no one trusted her was because of her habit of feigning kindness. She did it out of insecurity. I knew that, and I shouldn’t have called her out for itt—at least not in such a public setting.

She pressed her lips together and stepped away, leaving me for the evening.  

I sighed, knowing that I would apologize later, despite feeling like I didn’t have to.