"Sowing Season" [Kala]

[Pharaoh]

"Sowing Season"
90 Searing 124
The Prædium Phædralis, Umbrium

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The Prædium Phædralis was situated in the shadow of the royal palace of the Umbrium, one of six palatial estates belonging to the great cadet houses of Gens Sol'Aværys. All were roughly identical from the outside, and were arrayed in the foreground of the Palatium Umbrarum. With his mother and dragonborn brother keeping apartments in the palace, his sister occupying the Luxian Prædium and Raithen flitting wherever suited his fancy, Phocion was the uncontested man of this particular house.

When the portal to Kalzasi opened in the foyer, it would not be veiled sentinels who greeted Kala, but liveried servants. Though they wore the same colours as the sentinels, the silver predominated with the black serving as the accent.

"His Serene Highness awaits Your Ladyship in the North Gallery." Announced a young, male Vastian with a silver chain collar about his slender neck. He gestured and led her up the black marble grand staircase and made a left when they reached the top, heading down a corridor and pausing before a set of tall double doors. They opened as soon as he paused, parting to reveal a chamber with high ceilings and walls adorned with portraits of prominent Phædryns from prior generations.

Underneath one particularly large and striking painting of a platinum elf with long, straight hair and pale eyes not unlike his own, stood Phocion Princeps. One could not mistake him for Sentinel Phocion in that moment, as his princely regalia was stark white with a glimmering silver ornamental breastplate resting on his slender shoulders.

A servus approached Kala with a tray of sparkling Luxian white wine, and Prince Phocion turned to face her directly, offering a cordial bow.

"Your Ladyship. I welcome you to my residence. How have you fared since last you graced my presence?"

[Kala Leukos]

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What Karam Senue didn't know might hurt him, but when Kala quit Kalzasi, she did it from her family's Kalzasern home. She had brooked no intrusions into the protections set up by her forebears and maintained to this day. This evening was the evening she would return to Solunarium. The invitation had been for her alone, and so she stepped through the portal unaccompanied. Her brother and her Silver Wings didn't like it, but she reminded them that even if she took all of them and a cohort of Sky Guard, she was walking into the realm of the Divine Twins and they would be outmatched. If they proved fair weather friends, well, may Mother Naori smite them.

"Thank you," she acknowledged the servus with a nod, and followed.

When Phocion acknowledged her, she dipped a bow herself. "Your Serene Highness, thank you for the invitation."

Her dress was a pale cream. In some lights, it might be called the platinum blonde of her hair. In others, perhaps she would seem to be clad in bone. She accepted a drink from the servus; if he would not meet her gaze, she nodded acknowledgement all the same.

How to distill a year down into a few words?

"I have fared well enough, I think. With travels, studies, and the regular responsibilities of the nobly born." Perhaps it was understatement, but then, his purpose for some time now had been to deal with matters divine, and so he was one of few who might understand what lay between those lines.

"I daresay the monumental has become humdrum for you as well? And you, bright princeps, how have you fared this year gone?"

She didn't sip yet, waiting lest he should have a toast in mind. But her soft smile was genuinely curious; he was a private person, which was yet another thing they had in common, but she was interested in whatever he might share.

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[Pharaoh]

Phocion gestured toward a seating area arrayed in one corner beneath the imperious eyes of his Phædryn forebears. The same servus turned to the prince without approaching him, as a flute was already beginning to rise from the tray to meet him en route to his perch at the edge of a chaise longue. He did not think to toast, seeming perhaps a bit anxious as he nodded in acknowledgement of gratitude expressed.

"Ah yes, those." He said of the 'regular responsibilities of the nobly born'. "I do try to cast those off with the sentinel side-step when at all possible, but they do have a way of catching up to one..." He trailed off, "I hope yours are not too terribly burdensome. How fares Kalzasi under its new regime? Are the Houses of Leukos and Senue closely aligned?" Perhaps he already knew and was being polite, or it was possible that doffing the sentinel blacks meant he had to compartmentalise the knowledge to which he was privy under those terms.

"Me? Oh, it's been an absolutely confounding span of time. 'Monumental' is a nice way to say vexatious. The Sentinel Order is far busier now than we were prior to the Zalkyrian annexation and, given our divorce from the Golden Guard, we're spread far thinner than I would like. Running my branch of the order is rather a matter of triage. What can be salvaged, what must be addressed immediately and what can we let lie? Far more than I would like, as it happens." He absently sipped at his drink and, only after swallowing, did he blink and realise:

"Oh... I ought to have toasted you in welcome, oughtn't I? Forgive my... lapse in chivalry. My brother who you've taken... Founders, 'under your wing' for lack of a less cringeworthy turn-of-phrase, has much more facility with the social graces than I. For me it is ever a conscious effort."

[Kala Leukos]

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Kala sat with careful grace, smiling quietly.

"The exchange of power was bloodless, at least, proving the loudest naysayers incorrect. There were enough problems that needed dealt with, the question of who held imperium was less important than someone have it. Dæmon stepped back, and I didn't want it, so there were no divine influences upon the decision—other than abstentions. There has been some interest in House Leukos from House Senue now that I have wings, but, for the moment at least, I do not plan on wedding. As I slowly extricate myself from mortal life, I would like not to leave a mess behind me. House Leukos remains in fealty to Great House Briathos, though when my nascent divinity becomes more common knowledge, I rather think my brother Aquilios, the heir, will sue for separation and independence. Starfall is so remote and with his sister as a patron deity, well, it will never be another Solunarium, but soon enough I will be a greater ally than Kalzasi."

That was quite a monologue for her, so she took a sip and paused.

"Ah, Raithen is a dear, and lacking his father's tutelage, it has been an honor to educate him on the Synnekar. It has been educational for us as well. In our culture, we are Avialæ first. In yours, he is Re'hyæan first. It is an expansive perspective." Another sip. "I do hope I haven't added unduly to your burdens. I have learned a great deal from my elder, hm, cousins, your blessed Founders. I do try to be a conscientious guest. And you needn't worry about etiquette with me, at least not in private."

She imagined in public his mother might have something to say about lapses.

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[Pharaoh]

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Phocion sat by, quiet and placid as a pond on a windless day, as Kala elaborated upon the situation in the North. Occasionally he gracefully lifted the glass to otherwise pursed lips and, only at one moment during her oration, did he seem to tense and the tension did not recede as she spoke on. He only began to drink with greater frequency until, as she paused to sip, his crystal flute floated to the servus, passing its replacement in mid-air as it levitated into his grasp.

Only when a minor detail wanted for correction, did his shoulders sink back down a bit into something of a more relaxed position- if not very.

"Forgive the pedantry, but that is not entirely true. Raithen is an Aværyan first, which allows him to surpass most Re'hyæans in spite of his mixed blood." He would not delve further into the nuances of that, lest it come off poorly, "But my Gens has always been quicker to blend our blood than most members of House Sol'Aværys." The tension returned in force, "Which brings me to the purpose of my invitation... One which I extended, initially, at my mother's request, mind you." He glanced down and pursed his lips,

"I... hear and comprehend the complexities presented you back at home by the predicament-... No, I ought not refer to the peerless blessing of apotheosis as a predicament, but the situation in which you find yourself. It is politically complicated at best and untenable at worst. I am... Forgive me, my diplomacy is failing me for reasons that will momentarily become obvious. Let me get to it:

"Your Ladyship, in a new and salient Solunarium with diplomatic relations stretching so far afield of our own borders, my family wishes to take our Immaculist traditions a step further. It has been determined by the best political minds in the Umbrium, Your Ladyship, and I will confess affirmed by myself, that it would be advantageous for me to invite you here, not in my role as sentinel, but in my position as Prince Royal of House Sol'Aværys, descended of Aværys Deus Imperator Radiant in His Glory and of Varvara Domina Divina Subtle in Her Wiles, with the intention of seeking to bind us twain with the holy silver chains of matrimony." His eyes were on the floor, just before her feet.

"And do forgive me if you deem the notion an insulting one." He downed the entirety of his second flute of sparkling wine in one extended series of gulps.

[Kala Leukos]

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"No, please," she said in all sincerity, "do correct my misapprehensions. I do admire your culture, but am not of it." Finally, she nodded. "Of course. That is something to consider." And consider she did. It had seemed to her at the time that Mother Naori allowed the Necromancer to give her the wings she felt she was owed, and then gave her the seed of divinity that had been an utter surprise, in order to unite the Avialæ—Synnekar and Kathar. But then Raithan was neither, but rather an Aværyan Avialæ—or an Avialæ Aværyan from his own perspective—and those winged Hytori she had seen in Silfanore were considered Hytori with a magical augmentation that was heritable.

If anything, her divine quest and bequest had taught her more about her own people and their place in the world.

Her eyes widened as Phocion's fell to the floor. While playing the delicate game of holding off noble suitors without giving offense in Kalzasi, she had not anticipated suits from abroad. The centers of Avialæ civilization were Gel'Grandal and Kalzasi, after all.

There were several things he said that made it less than flattering to a woman, but as it was proposed as a political alliance and this was clearly outside his comfort, she didn't take those to heart. After a few moments, she managed to collect herself.

"The notion is hardly insulting," she assured him, then finished her own flute and smiled to the servus who held a fresh one at the ready. "I never expected a handsome, intelligent prince to ask for my hand in marriage." If her smile was politic, then she was more deft than anyone knew. Subtle were Her wiles indeed.

"As you have noted, my situation is complex and such an arrangement would be even more complex than your marriage to some other foreign lady. I would be pleased to explore the option—slowly—if you might answer a few preliminary questions. The first, which might have little bearing on politics or religion, remains a matter of some importance for me: for all the other things we are or may become, would Phocion the man be pleased to wed Kala the woman?"

She had long ago lost all illusions that she was likely to have the loving marriage her parents had, but she still hoped to have room for love within those bonds of matrimony.

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[Pharaoh]

Even before Kala answered, Phocion Princeps was visibly relieved of some of his prior discomfort. He realised, as soon as his motivations were exorcised from within and allowed to hang in the air without, that he wasn’t as fearful of her response as he’d been of loosing the words. He didn’t fear rejection nor acceptance, it was the anxious anticipation that had felt crippling. With that out of the way, his shoulders hung at their usual distance from his neck and his placid expression looked more earnest in its tranquility.

“Yes, of course.” Was Phocion’s catch-all response to affirm both her request that they peruse this eventuality slowly and to consent to what questions she had. Questions were more than reasonable in response to what must have been something of a blindside. He then that, in his own discomfort, he’d done something to her that he’d have hated if someone did it to him. These kinds of surprises were pleasant in theatre, but one rarely wished to be disarmed in the high stakes realm of international politics. Her ignorance of his intentions had been easier for him, but unkind to her.

He thought to apologise, but the nature of her first query left him speechless for a moment. He’d anticipated the political preceding the personal, but this rather, well, disarmed him.

“I… will be as honest as I am able, Milady. Based on what I know of you from our personal interactions and from… my work, I anticipate that I would be pleased, yes. As you ask to proceed slowly, I full-heartedly oblige, for we might know one another better than we do at present. We ought to. There is… attraction, yes, and camaraderie, but it is nascent. I did not invite you here in hopes of marrying tomorrow, it was more to, um… Let it be known that I sought to court, so that you might dismiss me and I might focus elsewhere or else you might open your heart to the notion and we might explore the possibility together. I believe there are things we can offer one another that no others in all of Ransera might broach. That excites me on a personal level, believe it or not… But, we can get to all of that later. Suffice to say, I merely wish for you to be open to… affection. Intimacy. If you can envision such things with me.

“I do not wish to chain you down. I am a pragmatist as well as a polyamorist, and you will doubtless know more lustful lovers than I have been, but… Well, yes, Kala. In summation: I am open to adding you to my personal pantheon.”

[Kala Leukos]

.

His response made her smile, and a flush came to her cheeks. She was no doubt younger than he was, elven youthful looks being so deceiving to human eyes. Even the divinity within her was new, and entirely herself, whereas his Gods had been Gods even before they dwelt within elven forms. Her shoulders were slender for the weight thrust upon them; nevertheless, she persevered. Life had given her much, and much was expected of her.

She looked down at her drink, the backs of her fingers coming up to assure her that, aye, her cheeks had betrayed her.

"Then, please consider me well and thoroughly complimented. You have expertly disarmed me, Your Serene Highness." She looked up, demure, mindful, and replied, "I have found you attractive since first we met as well. There is a gravity to your quietness; I do wish to know better what goes on inside that dark head of yours, if you will let me. So, shall we say then that we are courting?" She paused, her face falling.

"Oh, though... as I endeavor always to be honest, but would be even more so with a spouse, you should know that I have for diplomatic purposes traveled to Sol'Valen to foster more robust trade between Kalzasi and the Hytori kingdom. I know that Solunarium's views on many things are changing as the views of the Divine Twins have evolved over their incarceration, but I do not know if that will sour your heart toward me."

She sighed.

"It could be a benefit," she offered, "a wife who could act as intermediary, but that old grudge remains between your two peoples."

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[Pharaoh]

Phocion smiled, pleasantly surprised that what he'd seen as merely an honest assessment, had been taken as such a compliment. That was a good sign, he thought. He hadn't been consciously trying to flatter, which seemed, to him, to make the compliment more worthwhile. More truthful. Strangely, he reaction seemed to reflect back on him and his eyes darted down to the bubbles in his drink as he drew it to his lips.

"My tongue may oft be still, but I assure you 'tis quiet clamorous within this 'dark head' of mine." He replied, with a slight chuckle. "I suppose we shall, then." Strange, though it felt, to say so.

"I was able to enjoy a longer bachelorhood than many a prince of the realm owing, it now seems, to my mother's incomplete machinations having limited my field of potential partners. I think this has been to my favour." At Kala's confession, Phocion tempered a grin as his gaze rose to find her face.

"Oh, I know. The Sanguinists hold old grudges as if the Princeps Vacuum were head of the Varværyn Pantheon, but we Phædryns are more... adaptable. That is why we are able to court outside our nuclear family." He quipped,

"As for the old order Hytori, they seem to do everything by rote... even their loathing is perfunctory. Sol'Valen has far more focused enemies than we, and your travels in the interest of your realm are to be expected. That you are a politically active figure on the world stage is part of the appeal... from the practical side, of course. On the personal side, I am a diplomat myself. I understand that a visit is not tantamount to an alliance, nor a conversation with an old enemy tantamount to a declaration of war. If the Phoenix turns its burning eye toward our plot of sand, we shall see where that tends, but there has been peace, lo these several millennia, and our desert drums beat not for yet another war between elves."

[Kala Leukos]

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Kala hadn't realized there was a sudden tension in her shoulders until Phocion's reply allowed them to relax. She sighed again, this time in relief.

"May all future impediments to our friendship and more be so easily overcome," and she took a sip of the sparkling wine. It rather tasted like stars in a simile she wouldn't be able to articulate in words.

"Whatever clamor you see fit to share will remain sacrosanct even should our wedding not come to pass, unless that clamor poses an immediate threat to mine." She might not speak draconic yet, but her words carried a similar weight of truth. "Old man," she added with a hint of playful teasing.

"I have an invitation to return to Silfanore next season," she added. "The Hytori aren't especially keen on permanent embassies, so I take that as a small victory on my part if you will allow me a touch of pride... In any case, I have had access to the royal libraries. They will not let me leave with delicate scrolls or books, but they will allow me to bring in mnemosyte to copy things. Are there any rare documents I might bring you from the forbidden realms?"

There was still that hint of playfulness, but she was curious as to the answer. It might give her something to go on in getting acquainted with the clamor and the quiet within him. To her mind, she ought to give the occasional, thoughtful gift to her suitor. In any case, he most certainly came from a wealthier family than she did; if she was going to give thoughtful gifts, they would have to be more difficult to obtain than costly.

She wondered if a marriage to an Aværyan prince would make her persona non grata in Sol'Valen. Well, that would be something to consider in the time to come.

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