Things and things.
She searched around in the glimpses of flash memories. Those last scenes of when she tasted power. Felt the flow of energy. Force. What an addictive thing it promised to become. And she was not a caster. How, then, did they achieve control with such lingering seduction?
Ivory felt cold.
Power was such a curious thing.
"That would do. You can leave us now." Mother had said this, and Ivory, in the silence that followed, realized her feigned unconsciousness had been discovered. What a stupid act that was! Hiding from mother.
"True weakness is a disgusting thing. But a fake one. That is much worse."
Ivory snapped. A mistake. Light like a surge of incandescent brightness flamed against her eyes. She winced, head turning to the side in evasion. She met the black sheets, the sleek, dark ground beneath. So queer was it that in moments, her reflection outlined on the gloom surface.
Eyes black and blank, lips lined. No expression. White hair rolling down in scattered trails. Beautiful in the chaotic manner in which it unfolded, at least Father had said that once. Ivory did not share the notion. There was no beauty in this…Just weakness. A pitiful sight.
"Something interesting must be on the ground." Mother's voice.
Ivory raised her head, roaming through the square room of little vastness. Various wares were mounted throughout. Poles of metal, beaming rings of light flashed at her. Square boxes buzzed, and the bed trembled in slight motions. Above, a larger ring pierced down with a brilliant radiance. Utterly blinding.
"Too much," Ivory said, and like an order, the lights turned off. Illumination became a sole burden carried by the froststones dotted. Same for the lamps at the wall's base. Though a certain tenebrosity descended, the dimness was far from concerning.
Ivory turned to Samara. Standing at the end of the bed—arms crossed. Looking as calm and collected as ever. One would think an attack on her daughter changed things.
No. A highness must be perfect at all times. Mother bears the weight of teaching me that.
She wore a simple valor coat. Iron black, shoulders folded, sleeves down, buttons on the side. This one stretched down into a dress, though the material gave the impression of armor than cloth.
"What happened?"
Ivory passed her gaze to the side. Saw there a man, seated, legs crossed, holding a book. She identified him by the white he wore. Aspirant Kabel.
Is he allowed to hear this? Aspirant or not, this was a private matter.
Mother said, "He can't hear anything said. He insisted his presence be admitted here—an oddness for an Aspirant."
"Perhaps because of the Absentation he follows."
"That would mean his presence here is an indulgence. A failure to what he claims."
Mother is saying he likes to be here? Ivory stared at the man and wondered about the reasons for his continued presence. Was this just a ploy for favor? A dedication to the role predetermined for him. Or perhaps…something else.
"Does not matter." Mother said, "What happened?"
And so the question comes. Ivory dreaded this for the simple reason of the failure it suggested. She had dreamt—a clear sign of oneself as a caster. Yet could not cast. Worse, it had resulted in using an Emerlt for safety. And if that was not the case, it remains a failure on her part for the inability to request aid at the moment of suspicion.
That could have been an assassin. A fermen huntsman. Any number of things. And still, she failed. Moreover, the attacker had likely escaped. Ivory had little hope that her attack, a burst of unpreparedness, had done much damage. Whoever that was, they were beyond her ability to harm. This was truth. This was certain.
Yet, mother needed an answer. "I was attacked."
"The countless information gathered by deadEyes and Excubitors explain that."
Ivory closed her lips for a moment. "I spoke with Kabel." Partial story then. "It was then I saw something. An Illusion. It seemed a man clothed in dark robes. It kept vanishing. Again and Again."
"So is the nature of the defences in the castle. More so for your room." Mother said, "A likely attempt to breach your rooms' defences. A failure?"
"A success."
"So a powerful caster. Above the blessed rank for sure."
"Or one with tremendous force."
"A rarity for the simple reason that they go mad." Mother said, "Anything else?"
"For my safety, I took the Emerlt and used it."
"And you once questioned me on their uses." Mother said, tone cold, yet an understanding of disappointment breathed through. "Why did the room turn white? I can't have you doing only that when the symbols of the bladesworn are what you need cast."
"That I don't know." Ivory said, "It was a sudden rush of power. It clouded me."
"Then learn." Mother said, "A faultful highness is a thing unallowed."
That is something I already know, Mother.
"And also, your father calls for you."
Ivory paused. Men were meant to come to the women. "Won't he be coming?"
"Become a highness, and that law you can mold as you wish."
"In time," Ivory said and found herself sensing the retort her tone echoed. Mother? She stared into those black eyes—sharp-edged, cold. There was no reaction to the word. Just passivity.
"In time. In time." Mother said, "The patient beast eats the meatier one. A stupid maxim crafted by the beasts called men and adopted by the lowest of beings. The waiters. You act the latter. To wait? In time?" Mother glanced at Kabel. The aspirant remained elusive in the conversation. He instead chose to read.
A good tactic to avoid attribution to lip-reading. Mother would end him regardless of his state as an Aspirant.
She added. "Waiting is merely giving time to others. With time, your stupidity will be shown as you are tossed to the wilds. Seat taken." Mother turned and left—the door sliding back with her departure.
Ivory stared down and realized the insouciance of which she spoke. A foolish thing. In time? She rubbed her forehead. I said in time? I'm I mad? Or is this some consequence of the emerlt? Oh, mother must be so ashamed. This was an act of a child. A naive one. Not me. It's the weakness. The burden.
She sensed a gaze on her person, turned, and saw Kabel, eye locked. "What?"
"Ah, nothing," he smiled, closing the book. "I just made a mental list of the top ten things I have seen a high heir do."
"What?"
"And that's one of them." he licked his lips. "A highness saying what twice."
His mocking me. "You make the inference that you have worked with other high heirs." Ivory said, "A clearly observable lie."
"One, how can lies be observed? Isn't heard more of the right word to use?" Kabel taunted, "And isn't a human enough of a collective to be deduced to multiple persons. Ivory the strong was surely not that before Samara of the high fa'n."
"You listened!" Ivory snapped.
"No, no." he waved his hands. "I won't point out the blunder you made by forgetting the dampening hand. And more, I don't lip-read."
"Then how?"
"Your face." He said.
My face? "Many have said I look like a doll. Something by the hands of a dreamShaper."
"Oh, please. The flattery." Kabel rolled his eyes. "I've seen dolls, and those look better. No. Yours is different. I see it. I see you. Or I hope to."
Ivory froze. Mentation was gone. What does that mea—
"Your grace." A voice spoke beside her, and the calmness of self pressed in. She turned and saw, standing, suddeness in the means of appearance, a woman, dark-haired with twin strands of white. Nail, ladyCaptain of the seal seat.
Ivory was to talk when.
"The highness requests you now." She said passively, as though bored, then glanced at Kabel. "This one stays behind."
We are to paint the clouds with sunshine—Author unknown.
Ivory hid the emerlt deeper on her person. A very much inappropriate place. Between her bosom. Mother would not approve of it. She knew this but found any varying option a risk, unverifiable. This was less noticeable. Any who tried could be labeled as filth.
Passing through the lonely corridor, walls marked with black trailing spirals. They snaked the walls and rounded the few froststones dotted through. There was no need for much here, Ivory reasoned. The cold engines were enough for the required chill.
That, of course, served a purpose outside the cold requirements. This close to the highness chambers, certain measures had to be employed. Methods outside the mundane, that is, casting. Infiltration by powerful casters was always the weakness of casted defences. Enough force could brute through anything.
For the highness, however, a difference was practiced. castWares were the outcome. Through the walls, Ivory imagined, pipes filled with water. Chilled water. Flowed through, cooling. Outside that, invisible remastered Eiya's hung around. Spies. Eyes for the seat guards.