#corval mc

Pippa immediately dropped the curtain, turning back to her mother. It was rare they were so alone together outside of their rooms, but it was also rare that they left the imperial city, let alone with so few chaperones. Indeed, only a handful of guards – handpicked by her mother at the Empress’s discretion and with the Emperor’s blanket approval – and the second prince were to stay with them once they reached wherever they were staying tonight.

The prince was a bit exciting actually – not as a person because he wasn’t at all – but because it meant the Emperor and Empress really wanted this to go well. Well, not well. It was her grandfather’s funeral, but they wanted to show their respect. True, he wasn’t the crown prince but if prince Soheil was a bit on the boring side, then prince Aamdir was far too interesting for this. Doubly so prince Zarad.

“This is where you grew up, mama?” she asked and her mother laughed, shaking her head.

“No,” she said. “We are going far deeper into the desert. There are no roads, where I was born. The dunes are the same, I suppose,” she peered out her own desert. If she meant to say anything else, though, something must have distracted her. Memory, probably. Her mother was prone to that, Pippa had learned as a very little girl, but her mother was also disciplined enough not to let it happen anywhere dangerous.

There were so many dangerous places in the Inner Palace.

They did not stop when night fell, though they did take a break to stretch their legs as the sun was setting. The sand beneath her feet was still hot, and Pippa amused herself by dancing about as she studied everything. One of the guards – a young man with a beard that was trying very, very hard and soft brown eyes, laughed as she went by. She laughed back, and met her mother’s eyes, dancing like she was.

“You’re a charmer, my love,” she said, “come back inside. We’d like to be at the way station before supper.”

“Charmer?” Pippa asked, dutifully ducking back into the carriage.

“Indeed my love,” mama said. “You’re very easy to love.”

Pippa coloured a bit at that. “Mama,” she said softly, and jolted as the carriage started back up. She did not fall, but she did have to steady herself. Mama laughed.

“Charming, but not the most graceful daughter I could have.”

“Mama!”

There was not much to say about the way station, really. It was exactly the same as every other one on the highway – a single stone building with stables and a few spare rooms for travellers. Only four men lived here year out, she’d learned, and they were switched out every two years, except for one man.

“Why don’t you switch out?” Pippa asked him over supper. The other three were sitting with mama and the prince, but Pippa had joined this man in his little table in the corner. Not entirely proper, no, but mama could see her as could the guards, the prince and the resident cat. Indeed, the cat was currently seated on her foot, presumably waiting for scraps.

“I like it here,” he said. “The sky is wide open, it is silent except the sands. The new people bring me new books when they come, they old ones take one as they go so I do not get bored,” he said. “I like it.”

“Oh,” she said. “You don’t get lonely?”

“No,” he said. “The quiet is nice. The city is too much. Colour, smells, sounds.”

“What about a village?” she asked and he shook his head.

“People are too much, after too long,” he said. “This is best.”

Pippa nodded, still intrigued but knowing when a conversation was done. Mama said it was a knack and that she should keep cultivating it. Talents were wasted on the lazy, mama and lady Mara both said.

Outside of that, the night was normal. Pippa let the laughing guard drag her out to brush the horses and she talked with him as the prince took care of his horse. He never said a word to them, instead speaking softly to his horse and Pippa focused on getting to know the guard. He was knew to the palace contingent and very honoured to be asked to escort a prince, especially so far.

After that, she’d gone back inside and cleaned up with mama, and then been bustled off to sleep.

“We wake with the sun, little bird,” her mother said. “So sleep while you can.”

“Yes mama. I love you.”

“I love you too, little bird.”

They were up before the sun, really. It was teasing the edge of the farthest dunes when she shuffled outside with her mother. She would have shivered in the lingering cold, except seeing a host of unfamiliar men in the courtyard startled her so much she forgot to. Looking up at her mother, she was surprise to see her mother did not look worried.

One of the men stepped forward, smiling widely. “Roshan?” he asked. Her mother nodded, and then the impossible happened.

She hugged him.

“Mama?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Mama?” the man asked. “You had children?”

“Just Pippa,” her mother said, “Pippa, come meet your youngest uncle.”

Pippa blinked, but did step forward, curtseying. Her uncle, now back lit by the rising sun, bowed back. When he came back up from his bow he addressed someone over her head. “Are you my brother in law, then?” he asked. Pippa turned and promptly giggled.

“That’s the prince,” she said. “Good morning your highness.”

Prince Soheil looked at her, amber eyes as serious as ever. “Good morning lady Pippa,” he said. “You are lady Roshan’s brother?”

Her uncle bowed again. “Hadi, youngest son of chief Lutfu may he rest forever, at your service.”

Prince Soheil nodded. “I am honoured to meet you, Hadi son of Lutfu,” he said. Then he walked into the stable. Everyone left over watched him in mild bemusement and finally her mother took charge.

“Come, Hadi, help me get Pippa ready for travel.”

They stopped once the sun became too hot, her uncle and his men erecting tents quickly, some even tall enough to shade the horses. Despite the heat and the early hour, Pippa found she wasn’t tired. While her mother retired, she set up near the edge of the tent, watching the desert. It was completely still out there, in a way that was rare in the Inner Court, and impossible to find in the city.

“What do you think of our mother, hm?”

Pippa looked up, not having realized her uncle was in the tent, and not all sure how she could have missed him. He was even darker than her mother – due to so much time in the sun – with greener eyes but the same nose and smile. Honestly she did not know what to think of him outside of that. She was not used to having any family other than mama.

“My mother’s not a sand dune,” she said, gesturing to the sleeping woman. Her uncle laughed softly and folded into a sitting position next to her.

“Not literally, no,” he said. “But she is a child of this great desert all the same. And as she is, so are you. Thus my question remains, what do you think of our mother?”

Pippa pursed her lips as she thought. “She’s very beautiful,” she said finally. “And very quiet.” She had other thoughts, too, but wasn’t certain how to put it into words. One because she just didn’t have the words, but also because she didn’t think, even she had them, her mouth could form them. She had not been raised to speak without thinking. “I like her.”

“As do I,” he said. “Though she is also merciless, and utterly wild.”

“Is wild a bad thing, even here?” she asked and he cocked his head.

“Is wild a bad thing where you’re from, little sister?” he asked. She nodded.

“Yes. You can’t even run in the Inner Palace, much less be a desert.”

“Ah,” he said, rubbing his chin. Most of the men had giant bushy beards, but his was short and trim. He said nothing after that and she settled against him slightly to relax. He looked down at her, and she smiled up at him getting one back. She didn’t know how much time passed, but the next time either spoke mama was still asleep and no one had left any of the other tents.

“I still find ways,” she said and he made an enquiring noise.

“To run,” she explained. “You just have to be sneaky.”

“Are you sneaky, little sister?” he asked. She sighed.

“Lady Calla says my hair makes it impossible,” she said. Her uncle laughed, and tugged at one of her twists. Mama had insisted they do them for the trip. “I usually keep it loose,” she said. “But mama said the sand would never leave if I did that out here.”

“The sand will never leave you anyhow,” he said.

“Because I’m her daughter?” she asked. He smiled again.

“You learn quickly,” he said and she giggled.

“You’ve mentioned it enough,” she said.

It was on rainy days like this, gentle and grey, when Jasper found himself pondering whether history had a particular taste for irony. For instance, Emperor Shou of Jiyel’s the waning Min period had a distaste for women in court, banning any woman from directly taking part in Jiyel’s politics. While several scholars have debated on why he was so hellbent on keeping them out, especially during Jiyel’s first renaissance, karma had found its way to the rather backwards emperor’s life. His niece, the then Princess Xiang, ousted him from power and brought about Jiyel’s next renaissance (appropriately named after her).

Now, in the Summit, where butlers such as he had no formal status other than attendant and invisible guardian, did Jasper really wonder if being privy to history’s advances as a member of the Historical Society made him more or less prone to history’s backlash.

A sigh left his lips — the warmth of his breath fogging over the rain-battered window — as he ran his hand through his hair. In all his years of service, Jasper had never shirked from duty. Gripping his mug tighter, he brought his tea to lips, taking a tentative sip.

Kade…

The name of his foster brother of the sorts began to cloud over his mind. It’s been….years since they’ve properly spoken. And after all this time, after what little hope he had of a possible reconciliation, their first words to each other were as barbed as the day Kade swore his anger against him.

—

“You would forsake the people of this Isle for what? For some petty nobles who can’t even handle their own affairs? This is our home Jasper and I thought you knew that.”

“It’s not that simple! Everything I’ve done, everything I put myself through, I did for the sake of everyone! The Summit holds the key to peace, Kade. A peace worth keeping!”

“Is it? Then tell me, was it worth Cora? Was it worth her? How about Beryl and Firo? Yeong? Haru?”

—  

Narrowing his eyes, this was not the time to reminisce old wounds. Steeling himself, Jasper quietly placed his half-drunk mug on the windowsill. The rain outside continued to pour, turning from a shower to torrential, as if sensing his mood. This Summit, out of all the Summits he’s read and seen, was arguably the most important one yet.

And yet also, a murder trial was about to take place, assassins sweeping underfoot, and somehow Kade, was in the middle of it all. Jasper prided himself on being stalwart and dedicated, and out of all times, he was wavering. He could feel it in his bones. As much as he tried to convince himself to stay to his path, each day was growing more and more of a challenge. So much uncertainty filled the air in the past few weeks, even he was rattled by the stakes.

Fate must have had a cruel sense of humour.

With each passing day, the day of an all out confrontation seems more and more plausible. Kade would die for his cause.

And Jasper would lay his life for the Summit, for the peace it stood for, and….

—

“Kade. It’s been awhile.“

“Save your words Jasper, I have no interest in hearing them. We both know where your wasted loyalties lie. And I have no use hiding myself with niceties with you so I’ll be frank.”

“So then—“

“Why am I here? Here with you and not my delegate? Because as much as I hate you, I never forget to repay an old debt.”

Kade then leaned in close, eyes lit up like a knife’s edge, “Tell your nosey lady and her friends to watch their steps. The game they’re playing is dangerous, Jasper.” He then smiled, his lips pressing into a thin line. “And I’m not sure about you, but I like games. Lady Aria in particular seems one of the more interesting players this Summit, and I hope she’s as good as I think she is. Otherwise…well, let’s just say boring doesn’t suit her or me. Agreed?”

—

“Aria.”

Her name on his tongue rolled off too smoothly for Jasper’s liking. And if the thrumming of his heart was any indication…