Chapter 20
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Isilla turned the page, engrossed in the book that Mattin had given her. It had no real cover, the front featured a simple illustration of flower and a sword, the threads of the binding exposed on the spine. Still, the words made up for it. Right away Isilla found herself taken with the story of the woman on the pages.
A knock at her door broke her from her focus and she frowned, pushing the book under her pillows to hide it.
Who is that, the maids wouldn't knock, she thought, sliding from her bed. Ilun lifted his head, his ears perked up at the sound but he kept his body on the bed, letting her walk to the door alone.
She turned the knob and pulled it open, revealing Arren's tall form in the doorway, clad in a plain white shirt and dark pants.
He dipped his head, a slight bow as greeting. "You left me a note and asked that I come see you when I had some time. So I have, as you requested."
She smiled sheepishly and pointed to her sitting room, indicating that they should meet out there.
He glanced back at the small space. "You want to sit on your couch with me? That seems very, ah, intimate," he said, a hint of laughter in his deep voice.
She jumped realizing her mistake and covered her mouth for a moment before stepping away from the door and inviting him into the bedroom.
I'm being silly, she thought as she closed the door and he took a seat on her dressing stool, his shadows pooling around his feet. He's been in here before.
She retrieved her book from the table where she took her meals and sat on the edge of the bed, closest to where he sat so that he could see her writing.
Thank you for coming, she wrote in large script so that would be easier to see over the distance.
"It is no matter. Are you feeling better?" he asked slowly, eyeing her.
She nodded, I feel fine.
"And has the food been sufficient to fill your beast?"
You've ordered him to be fed? she wrote.
He lifted a finger, a tendril of shadow reaching for Ilun on the bed. Ilun sniffed at it as it poked him, running along his side through his fur for a moment before Arren called it back. "Of course, I don't want it to begin gnawing on your maids. It feels strange, half familiar but alien to my magic. How does he feel to you?"
Surprised by the question she sat with her pen hovering over the page. I don't know, she wrote. Like anything I've ever touched in the Veil. I don't have any magic to compare it to, she motioned for Ilun to put his head on her lap while Arren read. The bed creaked as the animal moved, wrapping himself around her body.
Arren lifted an eyebrow. "You really have no magic? None at all?"
She shook her head. Anyone like me can't use magic, not even a little. We say it's because that part of us never wakes up so we can never really sleep, so we never dream, she wrote.
"What about when you're sleeping, can you use magic then?" he asked curiously, his eyes focused. The feather touch of his shadows tickled her feet as they reached for her from the floor. She paid it no mind.
I can make things in dreams but it's not the same. They're just dreams, imagination, she wrote.
"Even that?" he asked pointing at Ilun.
She shrugged, she didn't have an answer for him.
"I've read about you, well, people like you. Nothing mentioned creating anything like that animal. I think that you're underestimating yourself."
You called it a parlor trick, she wrote.
"That," he said slowly leaning back in his seat, "Was for the benefit of the court. I think you can do more, that you do more than you realize. Your cheek for example. There was a bruise, and now there is nothing at all."
I heal quickly, she wrote.
"That is beyond quick healing, Isilla. That is magic. The body does not heal a bruise in an afternoon. There seems to be more to you than even you know. I am trying to understand it before you cause too much trouble."
She frowned, There's nothing to understand. I just make dreams better, that's it.
"You take away nightmares," he said slowly.
She nodded, a question on her face.
"I read about it. The book talked about people like you, half remembered, traveling from dream to dream reshaping them to your will," he held out his hand, palm out, drawing shadows into a swirling sphere in the center. "You don't think that would be a problem for someone like me?"
There are always nightmares and there is only one of me here. There's probably dozens of people like me who do the same, but with nightmares in this land. I don't think you should worry, she wrote.
"No, there are not. I've never heard of them. If they exist, they do so without the knowledge of the Crown. I agree with my father, you and you are alone were sent with a purpose," he released the shadows, letting thee drop back to the floor, his eyes dark and focused on her.
She shook her head, I was sent because there were no other girls of suitable age.
"You're twenty-two," Arren said, "anyone old enough to bear a child would be suitable. You mean to say in that legendary harem of daughters the Emperor keeps locked up, you, at twenty-two, were the only one old enough who fit that description."
I don't know all my sisters. The ones I met were very old or very young, she wrote.
"I find that a bit unbelievable but I can see that you aren't lying so I suppose it is the truth of it," he said sighing.
Did you come here just to question me on why your brother wasn't sent another wife, she wrote.
He looked away from her, rubbing his palms together, "No, I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm just trying to understand what is happening around this marriage. It is more than just a treaty. There's a reason you were sent over some other."
If there is, then I'm the wrong person to ask about it.
He chuckled, "Perhaps. Then what would you like talk about tonight, princess?"
She frowned. I should ask about the letters, why he married me, really, I should ask all kinds of things but I'm so tired, she thought.
Do you want to play guess the picture, she wrote and he smiled.
"Isn't that a game for children?" he asked.
I don't have any cards, she replied.
"I'll have to bring some next time," he laughed as he stood from the stool, crossing the room to the bed and settling next to her.
Ilun perked up as the bed shifted but laid his head back in her lap after a moment.
"You go first," he said.
She began to draw the first thing that came to mind.
"Hmm, is it a cat?" he asked looking at the simple lines of the animal that were beginning to come together. She shook her head and moved the pen, drawing scales. "A lizard," he said.
She smiled, marking a point for him and handed him the pen.
He drew a number of quick circles and dashes but the drawing was clear enough. A bird, she wrote, plucking the pen from his fingers. He smiled and she gave herself a point. Back and forth they went, each laughing at each other's attempts to stump them and their terrible art. The tension of the earlier conversation melted away, they fell into a comfortable rhythm.
He began to draw long lines with circles at the bottom. She tugged his sleeve and he handed the pen back to her.
Skirt, she wrote on the edge of the page. He shook his head and she tried again, table cloth?
Wrong a second time he took the pen and drew some more, adding a boat on the lines, falling over. Stumped she frowned. I give up, she wrote.
"It's a waterfall," he said, amused "I didn't realize my drawing was that bad."
I've never seen one, she wrote a pout on her lips. That's not fair, I don't know what that is, I'm not giving you a point!
"Such a poor loser," he teased, his voice low.
He touched her face before bending and placing his lips on hers. Their touch, light, just a momentary press of a kiss before it was over, stopped her breath. She looked curiously up at him, her fingers touching her own lips, the feel of him still on them. Around her feet, the tendrils of his power reached for her, their touch just as light on her skin.
He looked away from her as he spoke, his voice growing steadily more formal and distant with every word, "You looked, for a moment, as if you should be kissed."
He stood, moving away from her, "It is very late, I should take my leave. I will see you again as I am able, at your request. If you are ever in need of something, send a message to me with one of your maids. In two days you will be presented to the council. Do not be concerned over it, the meeting will be short. Good night, Isilla."
He left the room on his own, Ilun standing sliding off the bed and standing to stare at his back curiously as he passed through the door, closing it behind himself.
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Isilla turned the page, engrossed in the book that Mattin had given her. It had no real cover, the front featured a simple illustration of flower and a sword, the threads of the binding exposed on the spine. Still, the words made up for it. Right away Isilla found herself taken with the story of the woman on the pages.
A knock at her door broke her from her focus and she frowned, pushing the book under her pillows to hide it.
Who is that, the maids wouldn't knock, she thought, sliding from her bed. Ilun lifted his head, his ears perked up at the sound but he kept his body on the bed, letting her walk to the door alone.
She turned the knob and pulled it open, revealing Arren's tall form in the doorway, clad in a plain white shirt and dark pants.
He dipped his head, a slight bow as greeting. "You left me a note and asked that I come see you when I had some time. So I have, as you requested."
She smiled sheepishly and pointed to her sitting room, indicating that they should meet out there.
He glanced back at the small space. "You want to sit on your couch with me? That seems very, ah, intimate," he said, a hint of laughter in his deep voice.
She jumped realizing her mistake and covered her mouth for a moment before stepping away from the door and inviting him into the bedroom.
I'm being silly, she thought as she closed the door and he took a seat on her dressing stool, his shadows pooling around his feet. He's been in here before.
She retrieved her book from the table where she took her meals and sat on the edge of the bed, closest to where he sat so that he could see her writing.
Thank you for coming, she wrote in large script so that would be easier to see over the distance.
"It is no matter. Are you feeling better?" he asked slowly, eyeing her.
She nodded, I feel fine.
"And has the food been sufficient to fill your beast?"
You've ordered him to be fed? she wrote.
He lifted a finger, a tendril of shadow reaching for Ilun on the bed. Ilun sniffed at it as it poked him, running along his side through his fur for a moment before Arren called it back. "Of course, I don't want it to begin gnawing on your maids. It feels strange, half familiar but alien to my magic. How does he feel to you?"
Surprised by the question she sat with her pen hovering over the page. I don't know, she wrote. Like anything I've ever touched in the Veil. I don't have any magic to compare it to, she motioned for Ilun to put his head on her lap while Arren read. The bed creaked as the animal moved, wrapping himself around her body.
Arren lifted an eyebrow. "You really have no magic? None at all?"
She shook her head. Anyone like me can't use magic, not even a little. We say it's because that part of us never wakes up so we can never really sleep, so we never dream, she wrote.
"What about when you're sleeping, can you use magic then?" he asked curiously, his eyes focused. The feather touch of his shadows tickled her feet as they reached for her from the floor. She paid it no mind.
I can make things in dreams but it's not the same. They're just dreams, imagination, she wrote.
"Even that?" he asked pointing at Ilun.
She shrugged, she didn't have an answer for him.
"I've read about you, well, people like you. Nothing mentioned creating anything like that animal. I think that you're underestimating yourself."
You called it a parlor trick, she wrote.
"That," he said slowly leaning back in his seat, "Was for the benefit of the court. I think you can do more, that you do more than you realize. Your cheek for example. There was a bruise, and now there is nothing at all."
I heal quickly, she wrote.
"That is beyond quick healing, Isilla. That is magic. The body does not heal a bruise in an afternoon. There seems to be more to you than even you know. I am trying to understand it before you cause too much trouble."
She frowned, There's nothing to understand. I just make dreams better, that's it.
"You take away nightmares," he said slowly.
She nodded, a question on her face.
"I read about it. The book talked about people like you, half remembered, traveling from dream to dream reshaping them to your will," he held out his hand, palm out, drawing shadows into a swirling sphere in the center. "You don't think that would be a problem for someone like me?"
There are always nightmares and there is only one of me here. There's probably dozens of people like me who do the same, but with nightmares in this land. I don't think you should worry, she wrote.
"No, there are not. I've never heard of them. If they exist, they do so without the knowledge of the Crown. I agree with my father, you and you are alone were sent with a purpose," he released the shadows, letting thee drop back to the floor, his eyes dark and focused on her.
She shook her head, I was sent because there were no other girls of suitable age.
"You're twenty-two," Arren said, "anyone old enough to bear a child would be suitable. You mean to say in that legendary harem of daughters the Emperor keeps locked up, you, at twenty-two, were the only one old enough who fit that description."
I don't know all my sisters. The ones I met were very old or very young, she wrote.
"I find that a bit unbelievable but I can see that you aren't lying so I suppose it is the truth of it," he said sighing.
Did you come here just to question me on why your brother wasn't sent another wife, she wrote.
He looked away from her, rubbing his palms together, "No, I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm just trying to understand what is happening around this marriage. It is more than just a treaty. There's a reason you were sent over some other."
If there is, then I'm the wrong person to ask about it.
He chuckled, "Perhaps. Then what would you like talk about tonight, princess?"
She frowned. I should ask about the letters, why he married me, really, I should ask all kinds of things but I'm so tired, she thought.
Do you want to play guess the picture, she wrote and he smiled.
"Isn't that a game for children?" he asked.
I don't have any cards, she replied.
"I'll have to bring some next time," he laughed as he stood from the stool, crossing the room to the bed and settling next to her.
Ilun perked up as the bed shifted but laid his head back in her lap after a moment.
"You go first," he said.
She began to draw the first thing that came to mind.
"Hmm, is it a cat?" he asked looking at the simple lines of the animal that were beginning to come together. She shook her head and moved the pen, drawing scales. "A lizard," he said.
She smiled, marking a point for him and handed him the pen.
He drew a number of quick circles and dashes but the drawing was clear enough. A bird, she wrote, plucking the pen from his fingers. He smiled and she gave herself a point. Back and forth they went, each laughing at each other's attempts to stump them and their terrible art. The tension of the earlier conversation melted away, they fell into a comfortable rhythm.
He began to draw long lines with circles at the bottom. She tugged his sleeve and he handed the pen back to her.
Skirt, she wrote on the edge of the page. He shook his head and she tried again, table cloth?
Wrong a second time he took the pen and drew some more, adding a boat on the lines, falling over. Stumped she frowned. I give up, she wrote.
"It's a waterfall," he said, amused "I didn't realize my drawing was that bad."
I've never seen one, she wrote a pout on her lips. That's not fair, I don't know what that is, I'm not giving you a point!
"Such a poor loser," he teased, his voice low.
He touched her face before bending and placing his lips on hers. Their touch, light, just a momentary press of a kiss before it was over, stopped her breath. She looked curiously up at him, her fingers touching her own lips, the feel of him still on them. Around her feet, the tendrils of his power reached for her, their touch just as light on her skin.
He looked away from her as he spoke, his voice growing steadily more formal and distant with every word, "You looked, for a moment, as if you should be kissed."
He stood, moving away from her, "It is very late, I should take my leave. I will see you again as I am able, at your request. If you are ever in need of something, send a message to me with one of your maids. In two days you will be presented to the council. Do not be concerned over it, the meeting will be short. Good night, Isilla."
He left the room on his own, Ilun standing sliding off the bed and standing to stare at his back curiously as he passed through the door, closing it behind himself.
Isilla turned the page, engrossed in the book that Mattin had given her. It had no real cover, the front featured a simple illustration of flower and a sword, the threads of the binding exposed on the spine. Still, the words made up for it. Right away Isilla found herself taken with the story of the woman on the pages.A knock at her door broke her from her focus and she frowned, pushing the book under her pillows to hide it.Who is that, the maids wouldn't knock, she thought, sliding from her bed. Ilun lifted his head, his ears perked up at the sound but he kept his body on the bed, letting her walk to the door alone.She turned the knob and pulled it open, revealing Arren's tall form in the doorway, clad in a plain white shirt and dark pants.He dipped his head, a slight bow as greeting. "You left me a note and asked that I come see you when I had some time. So I have, as you requested."She smiled sheepishly and pointed to her sitting room, indicating that they should meet out there.He glanced back at the small space. "You want to sit on your couch with me? That seems very, ah, intimate," he said, a hint of laughter in his deep voice.She jumped realizing her mistake and covered her mouth for a moment before stepping away from the door and inviting him into the bedroom.I'm being silly, she thought as she closed the door and he took a seat on her dressing stool, his shadows pooling around his feet. He's been in here before.She retrieved her book from the table where she took her meals and sat on the edge of the bed, closest to where he sat so that he could see her writing.Thank you for coming, she wrote in large script so that would be easier to see over the distance."It is no matter. Are you feeling better?" he asked slowly, eyeing her.She nodded, I feel fine."And has the food been sufficient to fill your beast?"You've ordered him to be fed? she wrote.He lifted a finger, a tendril of shadow reaching for Ilun on the bed. Ilun sniffed at it as it poked him, running along his side through his fur for a moment before Arren called it back. "Of course, I don't want it to begin gnawing on your maids. It feels strange, half familiar but alien to my magic. How does he feel to you?"Surprised by the question she sat with her pen hovering over the page. I don't know, she wrote. Like anything I've ever touched in the Veil. I don't have any magic to compare it to, she motioned for Ilun to put his head on her lap while Arren read. The bed creaked as the animal moved, wrapping himself around her body.Arren lifted an eyebrow. "You really have no magic? None at all?"She shook her head. Anyone like me can't use magic, not even a little. We say it's because that part of us never wakes up so we can never really sleep, so we never dream, she wrote."What about when you're sleeping, can you use magic then?" he asked curiously, his eyes focused. The feather touch of his shadows tickled her feet as they reached for her from the floor. She paid it no mind.I can make things in dreams but it's not the same. They're just dreams, imagination, she wrote."Even that?" he asked pointing at Ilun.She shrugged, she didn't have an answer for him."I've read about you, well, people like you. Nothing mentioned creating anything like that animal. I think that you're underestimating yourself."You called it a parlor trick, she wrote."That," he said slowly leaning back in his seat, "Was for the benefit of the court. I think you can do more, that you do more than you realize. Your cheek for example. There was a bruise, and now there is nothing at all."I heal quickly, she wrote."That is beyond quick healing, Isilla. That is magic. The body does not heal a bruise in an afternoon. There seems to be more to you than even you know. I am trying to understand it before you cause too much trouble."She frowned, There's nothing to understand. I just make dreams better, that's it."You take away nightmares," he said slowly.She nodded, a question on her face."I read about it. The book talked about people like you, half remembered, traveling from dream to dream reshaping them to your will," he held out his hand, palm out, drawing shadows into a swirling sphere in the center. "You don't think that would be a problem for someone like me?"There are always nightmares and there is only one of me here. There's probably dozens of people like me who do the same, but with nightmares in this land. I don't think you should worry, she wrote."No, there are not. I've never heard of them. If they exist, they do so without the knowledge of the Crown. I agree with my father, you and you are alone were sent with a purpose," he released the shadows, letting thee drop back to the floor, his eyes dark and focused on her.She shook her head, I was sent because there were no other girls of suitable age."You're twenty-two," Arren said, "anyone old enough to bear a child would be suitable. You mean to say in that legendary harem of daughters the Emperor keeps locked up, you, at twenty-two, were the only one old enough who fit that description."I don't know all my sisters. The ones I met were very old or very young, she wrote."I find that a bit unbelievable but I can see that you aren't lying so I suppose it is the truth of it," he said sighing.Did you come here just to question me on why your brother wasn't sent another wife, she wrote.He looked away from her, rubbing his palms together, "No, I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm just trying to understand what is happening around this marriage. It is more than just a treaty. There's a reason you were sent over some other."If there is, then I'm the wrong person to ask about it.He chuckled, "Perhaps. Then what would you like talk about tonight, princess?"She frowned. I should ask about the letters, why he married me, really, I should ask all kinds of things but I'm so tired, she thought.Do you want to play guess the picture, she wrote and he smiled."Isn't that a game for children?" he asked.I don't have any cards, she replied."I'll have to bring some next time," he laughed as he stood from the stool, crossing the room to the bed and settling next to her.Ilun perked up as the bed shifted but laid his head back in her lap after a moment."You go first," he said.She began to draw the first thing that came to mind."Hmm, is it a cat?" he asked looking at the simple lines of the animal that were beginning to come together. She shook her head and moved the pen, drawing scales. "A lizard," he said.She smiled, marking a point for him and handed him the pen.He drew a number of quick circles and dashes but the drawing was clear enough. A bird, she wrote, plucking the pen from his fingers. He smiled and she gave herself a point. Back and forth they went, each laughing at each other's attempts to stump them and their terrible art. The tension of the earlier conversation melted away, they fell into a comfortable rhythm.He began to draw long lines with circles at the bottom. She tugged his sleeve and he handed the pen back to her.Skirt, she wrote on the edge of the page. He shook his head and she tried again, table cloth?Wrong a second time he took the pen and drew some more, adding a boat on the lines, falling over. Stumped she frowned. I give up, she wrote."It's a waterfall," he said, amused "I didn't realize my drawing was that bad."I've never seen one, she wrote a pout on her lips. That's not fair, I don't know what that is, I'm not giving you a point!"Such a poor loser," he teased, his voice low.He touched her face before bending and placing his lips on hers. Their touch, light, just a momentary press of a kiss before it was over, stopped her breath. She looked curiously up at him, her fingers touching her own lips, the feel of him still on them. Around her feet, the tendrils of his power reached for her, their touch just as light on her skin.He looked away from her as he spoke, his voice growing steadily more formal and distant with every word, "You looked, for a moment, as if you should be kissed."He stood, moving away from her, "It is very late, I should take my leave. I will see you again as I am able, at your request. If you are ever in need of something, send a message to me with one of your maids. In two days you will be presented to the council. Do not be concerned over it, the meeting will be short. Good night, Isilla."He left the room on his own, Ilun standing sliding off the bed and standing to stare at his back curiously as he passed through the door, closing it behind himself.
