#yu joon

Her mental gaze turns to the Commander. Or the 'Herald,' as he sometimes calls himself. Radio silence. A feat that for ten years she's been unable to figure out. The first few years they knew each other, Chihiro would joke, 'Well, I don't have anything important in this head anyhow~' and leave it at that. And given his behavior back then she sort of believed it, too. But by the time he comes back to life from Balthazar nearly cutting him in half, and when there's a lot to think about on the possibility of deicide...still, nothing. He's magical, sure, but his magic is like Rytlock's: Mists-drenched and arcane. It's bizarre, aberrant. And whatever magic it is exactly that Chihiro channels, it lets his brain sit in a magical black box that tastes of lakewater and rot.

The MinSec department head and the CEO of Xunlai Jade are arguing with each other about the jade bots wandering around Shing Jea. She won't admit it, not openly and hopefully not ever, but she has an apprehension nowadays around "robotic guards". Safe to say Scarlet left a hell of an impact on her thanks to her...generous ideas around what Watchknights should be able to do. And she doesn't find too much fault in maybe having security be a little bit less autonomously handled.

On the other hand, Li is a cantankerous man and a raging racist. Any point he makes however legitimate has himself as its own millstone 'round the neck. And Kasmeer would rather swallow her fear around a jade bot than deal with...well, with people like Li.

"Ambassador Meade?" calls out the drab-looking advisor standing aside Empress Ihn. She looks towards Kasmeer, but her attention is soon drawn to Chihiro. He doesn't move an inch.

What is with this man and drawing unwanted attention??

"The Krytan ambassador, Lady Kasmeer Meade." If Kasmeer didn't know any better, she'd say the advisor was trying her hardest to not look like she also had bones to pick with Chihiro. "And retinue." Despite only having just met here, right now.

"Retinue?" Taimi hisses, clearly offended at her lack of being treated with something resembling decorum.

Chihiro only lets off a small chuckle. "Not now," he tells her.

Kasmeer bows, trying to remember the exact way she should do so and to what depth based off of what little information she could cram-study on the way to Shing Jea plus Marjory's...well, actually, she was less than helpful. But she tried, and that is worth something. Just not for a meeting with a foreign country's leader. At least the Priory still had books on court courtesy. "Your Imperial Majesty. Warmest regards from Queen Jennah at this unexpected dawn, a renewal of our ancient friendship."

Something almost resembling a scowl forms on the Empress's face. "Not exactly how we remember it." But it relaxes. She reaffirms her cordial, courtly manner. "Please relay Cantha's best wishes to our sister, the queen, whom we look forward to meeting at the soonest opportunity."

The conversation goes...as smoothly as it can go given how bumpy this whole situation had become to begin with. The Aetherblades had apparently been slumming it in Shing Jea, hidden from the general populace until it came time to loot and pillage, and the Commander's sudden arrival on Cantha's shores only agitated the situation further, not to mention stoked fears of a foreign invasion. The Commander's reputation wasn't unknown to the populace; tales of his dragonslaying, godkilling, and tyrant-culling have pre-colored his reputation. Empress Ihn is infinitely gracious and patient in trying to hear this foreign dignitary's situation out. But Minister Li is having none of it. Joon tries her hand at defense, but to little use. He smells blood in the water. He wants to find an excuse, any excuse, to throw them all out one way or another. And, with a diplomatic gesture, Li is sequestered out of the main hall along with Joon to a nearby antechamber. Whatever heated discussion they're surely about to have—and gods only know how tempted Kasmeer is to peek into the conversation—is their business and theirs alone. All eyes, physical and psychic, have to remain in this conversation.

Doubly so since now Ihn is the third person here to take a keen, if troubled, interested in the Herald. Though, at least here, it's in a military-political way. She probably thinks herself in counsel with a famed foreign general, as much of a hardass as Minister Li. If only she knew...

Kasmeer looks back. Chihiro's remained upright and stiff this whole time, quiet as a mouse, with his hands held behind himself. Must be very used to meetings like this, it looks like. But more importantly, he's not trying to draw attention to himself. He's learned that lesson from Grothmar, if nothing else. His stance, his aura, it all says, 'Please don't mind me.'

And yet.

"Well, that went about as I expected." The Empress's posture...loosens. Ever so slightly. Even she seemed to have felt the heat from the Head of MinSec's undue judgment. "I assume these are the aforementioned colleagues?"

"One of them, Majesty," Kasmeer answers, still maintaining that sweet but calm voice every diplomat needs, "The Commander here."

"Commander? What are you commander of?" She knows. Has known arguably since Kasmeer arrived. But she wants to hear, specifically, what the Commander says. How he says it. Gauging him to see how much of an enemy he truly is, if Li is to be believed in any capacity at all.

Chihiro approaches. He bows, as formally as he had been taught at least, and slips his blindfold off of his face to 'round his neck. "Formerly of the Pact alliance, Your Majesty," Chihiro answers. "To be disbanded soon." His eyes, a dark shade of teal, squint in the light before quickly adjusting. He has a particularly steely gaze now. Where did that come from? (Or did he always have it, and the blindfold merely obscured it?)

The Empress tilts her head. It's so slight you could be forgiven for believing she hasn't. Ihn looks upon the Commander with something like bemusement. The advisor Navan, meanwhile, is locked in. "Ah yes. I've heard of this Pact." Navan seems far more apprehensive, more...ready. Curiously, like Chihiro, Kasmeer couldn't get a read on any surface thoughts from her, either. Like peering into a murky lake undisturbed. There was just... nothing. But under the stone-like face, there's an errant twitch to one of her eyes, her lips drawn ever-so-slightly taut.

"As I said, Majesty," Kasmeer continues, "we know the Aetherblades. We know their ways, their tactics. The Commander was fighting them when the airship crashed and would relish a chance to repay Cantha's mercy. Armed with any intelligence your Ministry of Security may have, we can bring them to justice for you."

Empress Ihn lets off a soft chuckle. "Let's hope you're a better pirate hunter than airship pilot." She again reaffirms her courtly demeanor and states: "That is acceptable to us. Speak to Minister Li about it."

Kasmeer and Chihiro both bow to the Empress, the latter slipping his blindfold back on. They begin to head for the antechamber when the Empress calls them back once more. "A word or two for the Commander." But when Kasmeer turns around with Chihiro, Ihn speaks up, "Ambassador Meade, and your companion, you are free to go."

Kasmeer looks at Chihiro. He doesn't turn his head, but she can feel his gaze. Confusion. Anticipation. 'Go,' he mouths. It doesn't feel right to leave him alone in the maws of social danger like this, especially when he's just recovered from having been in a coma for a week and a half. But she obliges the Empress's words. Has to.

"What's that all about?" Taimi asks Kasmeer, doing her best to keep her voice hushed as they make their way to the antechamber. She tries to raise an ear for listening in but Kasmeer pushes it back down.

"Best to leave this sort of thing alone," Kasmeer answers, "at least until the Commander tells us himself." She watches Chihiro walk towards the throne before looking forward, ushering Taimi into the antechamber where Joon and Li await.

.

.

Chihiro approaches the throne with measured steps. Lone leather soles echoing across the now quieted hall, guards stone-faced but eyes tracking the foreigner. Ihn eyes the Herald with something between curiosity and concern. Navan warns Her Majesty to either shoo the "huu na mang" from the throne room or... She doesn't finish her sentence, and looks at Chihiro with a glare that is measured only enough to appear dignified with her Empress's gaze averted. There's fire behind those eyes. Navan hates Chihiro for reasons he can't fathom to guess.

No matter. If she doesn't make that hatred known or transparent, it's none of his business. And he'll keep knowing the language to himself, even if "huu na mang" escapes him; better to appear an ignorant expat than upstage and embarrass the royal advisor, make another incident around himself.

He bows, again as formally and deeply as he had been taught to do years ago. "Your Majesty," he asks, "you've summoned me?" Again he slips the blindfold off. Headwear removed before royalty, as he was taught.

"There is a curiosity we wish to satisfy." Ihn's posture on the throne...relaxes. Again, just a bit. "There are talks within the Monastery's Ritualist community. You wear a blindfold, as initiates do, and can see and move despite your physical blindness. You've aided in quelling restless spirits around the island, often without raising a blade. Exorcising Purist specters while granting mercy to ancient Canthan visages."

A grin, controlled, creeps onto Chihiro's face. "I am a spiritual man, Your Majesty," he answers. "Well-attuned to the Mists and in the old ways of mediumship." Not entirely a lie. But one of many he believes he'll need to tell so this conversation isn't torpedo'd. He doesn't want to be here just as much as Navan doesn't want him to be here, if her moldering poker face is any indication. "I believed such skills to be of value in situations such as you've described."

"We are pleasantly surprised to see those old ways live on beyond Cantha's physical borders, made further robust through outside teachings," Ihn remarks, "and it appears you've left a good impression on those within the Monastery. Our curiosity lies with the blindfold you wear–" She raises her arms. Smooth hands peek from massive sleeves as they're raised closely together. clap-clap. "–though perhaps not for reasons you may believe."

A guard steps out from one of the other antechambers, flanked by two other guards, as he carries out a small wooden lockbox. Its intricate paint coat and gildleaf fading and chipping away to reveal aged teak wood underneath. The three guards approach Navan and kneel, center-escort guard unlocking the box and holding it raised over his head. Navan steps over and gently picks up whatever exactly is in the box that the Empress had prepared. Navan turns around, the object draped over her hands.

The color drains from Chihiro's face.

Navan walks closer to the Herald, hands in a precise and unmoving position. Draped over them is a long cloth the color of a bearded iris. It looks almost utterly identical to his own blindfold. To his mother's blindfold. The only real difference is how worn the blindfold cloth over Navan's hands are; it hangs threadbare and wrinkled, untouched by humans in over two hundred years until now.

"Navan," Ihn states, gesturing at her advisor. "If you please."

The advisor clears her throat, hands remaining unmoved. Her face doesn't look so angry or tense anymore. Just frustrated. She begins: "This is one of the treasures the Royal Dungeoneering Society was able to rescue from the ruins of Raisu Palace in the decades following the Zhaitan Disaster. The blinding-cloth of Emperor Kisu's Imperial Seer. It was said to have been one-of-a-kind, earned from her travels abroad." Navan takes a deep breath. Chihiro can see the advisor's gaze flick towards the vibrant cloth. She refocuses. Glances back to her Empress, then to the Herald. She exhales. "We've gained information from your stay with the Ministry of Security. You sign your name as Yadora Chihiro. You portray yourself as a spiritually-in tune individual. And so it seemed odd that you also have...such a remarkable counterfeit in your possession." Navan stops. A stray thought catches her, lets go as she remembers where she is. She concludes: "It's precise, down to the fabric and shade of dye. Her Majesty inquires into its origin." Into you, it almost seems like she wants to say.

Chihiro looks again at the aged cloth hanging from the advisor's hands. He feels his heart climb into his throat. Navan seems to have picked something up from Chihiro's changed disposition. He has to pivot, and quickly. The very idea of denying the validity of the artifact he wears, feels like spitting in the face of his mother. But doing anything except affirm the validity of the relic on Navan's hands would only invite further trouble. Chihiro wonders how much of this is genuine inquiry.

Chihiro takes his own deep breath. Looks Navan in the eyes. She's waiting, scanning, looking for that weak spot. He answers the advisor and the Empress, "It was something Amm– ...something my grandmother got for me when I was young." He pauses, the gears in his head spinning. And then: "She noticed I had the 'family gift.' Wanted to nurture it as best as she could. She got me this–" He thumbs the cloth around his neck. The softness of the silk calms his nerves. As it always does. "–and told me that her ancestor always regretted not coming home for the funeral. Always regretted not seeing her sister one last time.Couldn't even stay around long enough to gather her things..." One last pause from Chihiro. The specific word almost hitches in his throat. "So this replica was the next best thing."

The silence hanging in the throne room could strike a man dead from its weight. The Empress is stunned, perhaps surprised. Navan is scrutinous, head tilted down slightly as she glares at Chihiro; brow furls, eyes squint just so. Ihn doesn't appear to disbelieve the story, which is good. The advisor may not be convinced, but that doesn't seem to matter now if the important mark believes the story. He just needs to make sure his words don't invalidate or ruin Kasmeer's. The last thing he wants is to be taken back to Kryta and dragged to Jennah's throne room, having caused Yet Another Political Incident.

"You affirm relation to the Sisters, then?" Navan asks Chihiro. Her voice is deadly serious. Almost seems like a question asked before. Probably was, if he hazards a guess. Her gaze and posture tempers again, becomes more of a leer as she pulls her chin level and stands upright. Almost as if she's expecting something to happen. Maybe hoping Chihiro admits the truth. Whatever, exactly, that's supposed to look like.

"Yes," he answers. And then he adds, hoping Kasmeer isn't overhearing all this, "And if there's still any doubt, I can seek proof of my lineage from my home country's archivist. I have personal records–"

"There will be no need for that at the time being," Navan states to cut Chihiro's sentence off, "but all the same the gesture is appreciated and we thank you for it." Navan turns around, goes to return the relic back to its container. Chihiro feels a deep pang in his chest as the old cloth moves further from him. An old, lingering pain. He swallows his trepidation and refocuses. Not here. Not now.

"Thank you for your answers, Commander," the Empress tells Chihiro. She appears ready to be lost in thought herself. Or so she appears to behave. "There is much for us to think about. You are free to go. And, a last word of warning."

"...Majesty?" Chihiro slips the blindfold back on as he bows one last time. Through second-sight, he watches Navan place the relic in its box and lock it, dismiss the guards, and step back to by the Empress's side. Her head turns to look at Chihiro. Still eyeing him, it seems.

"The royal family hold the Yadora Sisters to very high esteem. They have, through their efforts, served Cantha and her people twice. A Betrayer vanquished, an usurper silenced. We will forever owe them gratitude for how they gave to their country, as our ancestors did before us." There is a pause. Ihn's calm, painted smile fades. Disgust takes over what remains. Subtle, but there within the tone-change of her voice. "But not all will look upon their names with such reverence, as it shames us to say. Be very careful who you share such information to."

"...Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you." A final-for-real bow, more muscle memory at this point than willing gesture, and he turns around to walk towards the antechamber where the others wait.

Empress Ihn's words stick to his mind. He's not sure how to parse them exactly. Threat? Warning? Both, maybe? Navan had no issues signaling her distaste of the Commander, and it wouldn't surprise him if the advisor was emoting for two. But Ihn herself seemed...well, if she did dislike him, she's done very well to not make it too obvious from herself. He enters the antechamber and tries to clear his mind. Kasmeer and Taimi have many questions, he's sure.

The air in here is just as tense and suffocating as it was in the throne room. Joon and Li aren't talking to each other...or they were, and this tension is the aftermath of it. Taimi looks like a deer caught in a spotlight. Kasmeer looks relieved to see the Herald, and he whispers to her, 'I'll explain later' before focusing on the Minister Li. "Minister, I understand you're…preoccupied with other matters, but I'd appreciate your help with something."

.

.

"All that drama over a blindfold?"

Chihiro shrugs. The wooden chair he sits in is somewhat rickety and uncomfortable, but he can ignore it so long as it lets him lean as far back as he is without breaking. Taimi sits across, fingers fidgeting with hair, processing Chihiro's account of his more personal talk with the Empress. Kasmeer sits to Taimi's left, Joon to her right. The former is fiddling with her comms device looking for Marjory's number. The latter is sitting quiet, gazing at the Herald. Yeah, he can see the resemblance to the Empress. That way she carries herself, the confidence she oozes. It's an infectious sort of charisma he's not unfamiliar with.

"They took offense to my name," Chihiro mumbles, mind already wandering to recollect upon his talk. Navan's behavior bothered him. Something about her bothers him. But he just can't put a finger on it.

"Makes sense," Joon chimes in, "ever since the Imperial Seer's passing and her sister's disappearance from the mainland, phonies and charlatans claiming descendance from the Sisters cropped up frequently. One of the few good things the Ministry of Purity ever did was put a stop to that nonsense, though that was to..." She chuckles. "Ugh, how did that history novel describe it? 'To prevent undue hero worship of unscrupulous and unpatriotic individuals.' A half-step forward for fifty steps back. Good riddance to those Purist fucks." A small gasp, realizing something. "Ah, apologies. Probably shouldn't mouth off like that around dignitaries."

"What happens in this room stays in this room, right Taimi?" Chihiro asks, a playful tone added to try and raise morale.

"Your secret's safe with us," Taimi responds, all too happy to play into Chihiro's bit. "The magnanimous Yu Joon keeps her image sparkling."

"But yeah...I didn't know about the whole..."

"Don't sweat it," Joon answers ahead of Chihiro's awkward response, "not like you could have known or guessed. Cantha's been through a lot. Her people wanted heroes. Needed heroes, at times. Some people were all too willing to lie about who they were for a quick coin. And with the Ministry of Purity putting sword, torch, and churning earth to anything they didn't like or approve of...it got hard after a while to tell who was telling the truth. So it became a sort of blanket response: we know the Seer died without heirs, and thus we assume her sister did as well. Their bloodline ended with them. Easy, clean, and it kept the Purists off your back as a cold comfort."

Chihiro thinks over what Joon tells him. He asks, "So then...you believe me? Her Majesty seemed convinced, and Navan just hates my guts I think."

Joon smiles. "You could say the Empress is a cautious optimist. From her point of view, a foreigner would have little to gain from lying about this. And your offer to provide documents at least tells her that you're willing to put your own integrity on the line for this truth. Willing to drag Lady Meade down with you if you were found to be wrong." Kasmeer looks up. She looks bothered. A bit angry. Snaps a quick glare at Chihiro. This was not agreed between us, Herald. "She may ask for evidence later, now that you've offered. Just in case."

"And the advisor?" Kasmeer interjects, trying to mask her emotions with her dignitary behavior and placid pseudo-smile. "I will concur, she seemed...fettered by the Commander's presence."

Joon folds her hands, rests her chin on bridges fingers. She mulls over her next few words carefully, it seems. "Navan has a keen eye for people," is all she says on the matter. "And if you're in Navan's eye, it's for a reason."

Silence. Taimi breaks it before Chihiro. "A good reason, maybe?"

Joon does not answer.

Taimi looks at Joon, then at Chihiro. She tells him, "Might be high time to go look for Detective Rama. That evidence won't investigate itself, haha." She tries to play it off. Maybe she'll talk automaton shop with Joon, to get rid of the strange feeling around those cryptic words. Or maybe she should listen to her own screaming instincts and book it from Shing Jea. Last time the Commander was the apple of someone's eye, she got caught in that crossfire. And she almost died for that obsession. Not again. Never again.

This room...is suffocating.

"Joon! Why don't we discuss sci-lit? I heard The Glixx Lectures made it even all the way here! Though uh...with some fresh air on the side?"

Joon's face relaxes. Her smile seems earnest enough. "Yes, we can take this conversation outside. And the Lectures have reached here, in a sense. I've extensive notes on it. Page to page." She gets up. Taimi follows suit. The two walk outside, Joon careful to manage her stroll speed. Kasmeer gets up, trailing behind. She shoots one last glare at Chihiro—we are going to talk about this very soon—and leaves the room.

Chihiro leans far more physically in his chair. The chair legs groan. He props his up on the table. Slips his fingers underneath his blindfold. He rubs his eyes, the rough calluses a tactile relief to his nerves. His right eye involuntarily weeps on touch. Still damaged. It feels like he had a wish granted by some djinn drunk on irony. He pulls his hands away, right index and thumb mindlessly rubbing the shed liquid.

It was one thing to feel like no one knew who you were back in Kryta. It's a completely different feeling to enter a land where your name is known yet taboo.