Turn 5 pt1

“Discussion of work over dinner,” Narcissa said, seating herself with her usual elegant grace, “is normally strictly forbidden. However, since I think it’s quite possible you have questions that Evander or I couldn’t answer at the time, I’m willing to suspend that rule for the moment.”

That chair, in the corner of Narcissa’s private sitting room on the second floor, was as beautifully-made as the rest of the things Narcissa surrounded herself with, and yet clearly well-used, the arms worn to a high polish and the leaf-brocaded green cushions uneven in shape and shiny in spots. The matching footstool showed similar wear. On a low table at her side was a basket of scrolls, and a shelf just above provided a place for lighting to read by.

Lighting she no longer needed: her nights would now be clearly visible, tinted with violet.

Like they really didn’t need as much food as the two teenaged maids had delivered, but it wasn’t the first time they’d eaten anyway, in the interests of blending in.

A second chair and footstool, in multiple shades of yellow and amber, golden and ochre, with a sort of scaled brocade pattern, was equally clearly Evander’s own, positioned near Narcissa’s at an angle and under another ledge for a light, with a second table and basket of scrolls.

The other furnishings in the room were less personalized, but comfortable nonetheless: graceful hourglass chairs, with shaped and carved seats and backrests and well-stuffed cushions. Small ornate tables dotted the room, and a single larger table held dinner in a collection of painted pottery dishes. Each diner had a smallish plate with a sturdy rim around the edge, and one simply refilled it at will.

“I’m more curious about what rules we’re breaking right now,” Mirren said. “Everyone working for you here is polite and all, but I’ve caught a few involuntary winces. Most have been over Tyrel and Madoc, I think, and the most recent ones were over them being in this room.”

“My vow not to marry puts me in a special category,” Narcissa said. “I’m not truly a priest, but I’m not really a part of the normal order. In a sense, I’m considered to have no sex. The tradition of having an entirely female household is an old one with complex reasons, and I’ve been quite comfortable with it, but my safety and that of my household take precedence. In a more conventional household, this room would be for the woman of the house to spend her day in, along with small children and any girls and women in the household, and to entertain her close female friends. The one downstairs would be for the man of the house to conduct business and entertain male friends and business acquaintances.” She smiled. “I have used it as such, and expect to do so again, since my role includes aspects that are more traditionally performed by a man. But I’ve always liked having the option of a more intimate space as well.”

Coming from the one woman in the room who was wearing a proper long dress, though her mantle had been removed downstairs at the door, that was interesting.

Turn 4 pt2

Brief interruption for an announcement (this is not an April Fool’s joke): Moonblood is moving, thanks to WordPress.com’s “improvements.” Posts will continue to appear here until the end of next week. After Apr 10th, there will be no new posts here (although the archive will remain). If you want the reason, see my earlier post. Moonblood will continue, however, at http://prysmcat.com/moonblood/ – you can subscribe to get notice of posts by email, but it will no longer be accessible through the WP Reader. Sorry. I apologize for the inconvenience and very much hope that you feel it’s worth following the story even at a new location. ~Steph

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(chapter continued from previous post)

“There’s time before Lirit sets,” Kaveri said, in their own language. She didn’t need to watch for it: every part of her knew exactly where Lirit was, always. Absently, she began to weave violet moonlight into a simple cloak, since it was at least the light of the right moon. “I hope Evander chooses. There’s a very deep connection there and I’m going to feel terrible if we’re responsible for damaging that.”

“It was an accident,” Madoc said. “There’s really no way to figure out what could’ve happened differently, because we’re never going to know. And it’s up to him. Maybe there’s someone he’s madly in love with and he’s going to be torn between a future with her—or him, whatever—and staying with his cousin. Maybe it’s religious. Most things in Enodia seem to be. Maybe he’s particularly looking forward to getting older and being treated with respect as a wise elder, or has the best job ever lined up after this, or has secret plans to stage a coup and claim the throne. Who the hell knows?”

“Narcissa estimated a year or a year and a half to make sure this hospital is firmly established with all the main problems hammered out,” Tyrel said. “Maybe two if she’s setting things up for someone else to take over from her. We could even push that as far as maybe, what, five at the outside before anyone starts to notice anything, if we’re extremely careful and if not too many rumours get started. The moonladies only know how long it’s going to take for us to figure out what’s going on with them being here, but we probably won’t get far until Kieran’s back. There’s plenty of time for both of them to get used to us and us to get used to them.”

“There won’t be if we mess up and she gets killed,” Mirren said grimly. “Even if no one sees it happen, her absence would be awfully hard to cover. I really like this hospital idea, I think it will do a lot of good, and it won’t happen if she dies.”

“Then we’ll keep her alive at all costs,” Madoc said. “Full weapons at all times. Staying alert, and not leaving her alone even in her own office outside of here.” He gestured to the courtyard. “We need a net over that, otherwise we might as well leave the door open. A few lessons in emergency self-defence for both of them. I’m not sure whether it’s worth looking at invisible armour, with those insane bow things around, but maybe just something light to reduce odds of a quick-kill shot with a knife or something. What’s her name, Hermia, might have ideas on that.”

Turn 4 pt1

While Narcissa’s house wasn’t even close to being one of the largest in the city, beyond the formal room they’d first seen it was substantial and filled with the beautiful and comfortable things Kaveri was coming to associate with the princess.

The main door opened directly onto a rectangular courtyard of flat paving stones, filled with plants and even small trees in immense painted pots, and surprisingly comfortable furniture that seemed to be made out of basketwork with cushions. Around that were storerooms, the kitchen, the room they’d been in, a private bathing room, and bedrooms for the housekeeper, cook, two housemaids, and the bodyguards. The second floor had, primarily, a large day room and bedrooms for Narcissa, Evander, Narcissa’s handmaid Iole, and guests—two of which now belonged to Narcissa’s new bodyguards.

The roof was flat and readily accessible. The long west arm had a stone wall on the outer side and the end facing the street, and a slanted roof, though the inner face and other end were open: Evander said the previous owner had been a merchant who needed the storage space, but Kaveri thought the option of shade would be pleasant. The long east arm and the short north side linking them were open to the darkening sky; a wooden trellis with vines growing up it from pots along the base provided welcome privacy from neighbours. There was more of that wicker furniture up here, too.

They waited on the roof for moonrise: four foreigners and the princess who was now like them and her loyal cousin who had refused to simply go to bed and leave her.

Talir first, of course, half full and waxing, and Tyrel smiled and cupped a hand to drink the yellow light like water; the cousins watched in fascination.

Bright silvery-blue Meyar followed her.

Madoc sighed deeply in intense relief as Sanur’s first rays washed over him, easing the pain. Though she was waning, she was only a few days past full. At least it didn’t take much time or effort when he fixed his gaze on her and changed to bobcat.

The arrow, along with the parts of his clothes not woven of moonlight, clattered to the roof below him. In his bobcat form, there was no trace of the gaping wounds at all. Madoc bounded around the roof happily, revelling in having made it to the end of his ordeal. Tyrel changed to fox to play tag with him, the two of them racing around and dodging the others, sometimes with little room to spare.