The dressmakers had taken the measurements they needed for her wedding dress, so Sihara had an hour of free time. She tried to read one of the books she had requested from the library about the ancient language, but try as she might, the words blended together into an incomprehensible mess.
Sihara closed the book in a huff. “Do you know if Sebastian has returned?”
Noel sat with Victoria teaching her to mend Sihara's sari. She looked from her work sewing back on a few beads. “Maria said he reopened his shop in Market this morning.”
“But he hasn’t come to see me. I would think I would at least warrant a visit after that mess in the library.”
“Maybe he is just nervous. After all, he offered you a way out of the marriage. Maybe he doesn’t want to push your answer.” Victoria said, watching Noel's adept sewing skills with wonder.
The oppressive weight on Sihara’s shoulders shifted. Her responsibilities would always be there. The responsibilities of the only child of a well-bred man who received none of his breeding. Lies. Her whole life was miserable because of a stupid lie. A stupid lie that kept her family in power. A little lie that kept her unko out of power.
Sihara closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “Just once, I’d like to wake up and not have someone else’s secrets to hide.”
Noel offered her a look of pity, and Victoria bit her cheek.
Sihara laughed a mirthless laugh, she was the dottir
of the Taj and future wife of the next. “I know, I know. Someday, I will look back on this moment and think how easy it had been before I had inherited Sebastian's closet full of skeletons.”
Noel set down the sari. “Why don’t you go talk to him? You will not be able to focus on anything else. Let’s get you presentable.”
Sihara looked down at her simple linen dress, “Sebastian prefers the older style, more demure.”
Noel pulled out two dresses she hadn’t worn in ages. Aquamarine and gold trim, or sandstone with red trim.
“The second one, I have some new red earrings that would go well with it.” Sihara added a swipe of color to her lips while Victoria braided her hair.
After a moment of indecision, she slipped on the tiny copper ring he had given her. Maybe he would just take this as a token of her acceptance of the marriage and wouldn’t push the topic. She had to prepare herself to tell him what he needed to hear. Surely the Creator couldn’t be angry with her if she only lied to save her people.
A maid entered the room from the servant’s entrance with a mop and bucket.
Noel shooed Sihara out of the room. “Now go, she has to clean up your mess.”
Mikel bowed as Sihara left her room. He still wore a guilty expression. “The Guards are still looking for the entrance that allowed Sebastian to enter the library.”
“Mikel, I am not upset about that. I trust you will always do the very best to protect me.” Sihara grimaced. “I am going to visit Sebastian’s shop in Market, and I would appreciate it if you accompanied me. Maybe I can ask Sebastian how he got in.”
Mikel kept his face neutral. At least the two of them felt the same way about her future husband, “If that is your wish.”
Sihara decided to ask him about the little black book she had bought at the festival. Rosabella knew a bit of the ancient language; perhaps she taught him some.
Sihara made her way to town, self-conscious of the copper ring on her finger.
There it was, ‘The Emporium of the Ancients’. The bell chimed on the door. His shop sold all kinds of ancient artifacts from the Elementi Republics and Outlands. His crowning treasures were the maps all over the walls, which were for adoration only and not for sale.
Instead of finding Sebastian behind the counter, the shop was empty; “Hello?”
“Yes, just a moment!” A hurried voice replied. It was the poor servant from the other night. He was in the back.
Sihara took the liberty of making her way to the back room. She was the fiancee of the owner after all.
“You are sure he was here the entire time on Tuesday?” There was a Peacekeeper questioning the servant.
Ned nodded, “Yes, sir, I swear it.”
“What is going on?” Sihara tried to mimic the authoritative tone her fathko used to get his way, but it sounded a tad too frightened to her ears.
The Peacekeeper turned, “I just needed to confirm Sebastian’s whereabouts for an ongoing investigation. It’s just a formality, Taja. Nothing to worry about. Thank you for your time. I believe you have answered all of my questions.”
After the Peacekeeper left, Sihara had a chance to take in the room. It was obviously where Sebastian lived. The floor lacked any carpets, and the threadbare furniture was few and far between. Papers lay strewn about what once could have been called a regal writing desk. The room was crowded with chests, some open, some locked. She didn't know what she expected, but it certainly wasn't this.
Sihara forced a smile and turned to the servant. "I don’t suppose Sebastian is hiding in the kitchen, is he?"
Ned shook his head. “He is in another meeting.”
It must be something terrible if he was still in meetings all through the night and most of the day. Perhaps she should not judge him too harshly.
“I can fix you a tea while you wait. I just feel bad for what happened in the library.” Now that she could take a look at him in the morning light, she noticed his gray hair and wrinkles. He was much older than she had first thought.
Sihara would never deny someone an apology. “That would be lovely.”
Ned riffled through a small chest containing pouches of loose-leaf tea. "Sebastian keeps up all of his best teas here. I'm sure that he would love you to have some. He loved to share it with..."
He scratched the back of his neck and didn't continue.
Sihara felt a tug at her heartstrings; the old man must have served Rosabella before he had been inherited by Sebastian. "What kind of tea did my dearest cousin like?"
Ned's eyes lit up. "The Sikara liked the blossom teas best. Only when they were in season though. I suppose that would be the rotoura this time of year. I'll make it up for you right away."
He hurried off to the small kitchenette and called through the open doorway, "Do you want a mug or a teacup?"
“A teacup please.”
Ned hummed a happy little tune.
Left to her own devices, Sihara couldn’t help snooping, just a bit. She knew Mikel would watch her back and warn her if Sebastian was in the hallway. The letters on Sebastian’s desk were poorly written. She couldn’t stand uncultured penmanship, but the more she saw, the more sympathetic she felt.
Sebastian projected the image of a man who was far above Sihara’s station, but he was just the grown child of a poor highborn trying to make his way in the world. His secrecy and punctuality were the only thing that had helped him to rise above his upbringing.
Ned walked in with a teacup and saucer. He stopped humming. “Oh, please put that down before Sebastian comes and sees you. He hates it when people go through his things.”
He offered the teacup in exchange for the letters and put them back exactly in the same order.
Sihara sipped the tea to cover her embarrassment and made a noise of surprise. It tasted like sunshine and spun sugar. “Oh, this is delicious!”
Ned practically beamed. "I'm glad you think so. The Sikar hardly notices anymore."
Sihara patted his arm. “Well, when I am the mistress of the house-”
Something caught in her throat, but she swallowed it with a smile.
“I’ll make sure you get recognition for your tea brewing skills.” She took a seat on the piece of furniture that barely passed for an armchair. “We will have proper furniture and carpets. You’ll be able to live in the Ambassadorial Halls full time.”
Sebastian burst into the room, throwing his scarf and jacket on the ground. “Ned, I need you to bring me those-Ah!” He bumped into Mikel. He glanced from Ned to Sihara and back again.
After a few moments, he asked, “What in the world are you doing here? You... have a cup of tea.”
His bewildered tone made her smile, “I felt bad after our… talk in the library. I just wanted to talk with you and see if I could be of some help, but you were not available. Ned offered me the most delicious cup of tea. He said that it was Rosabella's favorite, and I couldn't resist trying it, you know.”
She bit her tongue to stop the deluge of words.
Sebastian’s features softened when he saw the copper ring on her finger, "Ned, why don't you make me a cup of what she is having?"
Ned scurried off with a small bow. Was no one going to pick up the jacket and scarf he had so carelessly discarded?
Sebastian set to work reorganizing his desk, if you could call it that.
Sihara set down her cup, perhaps a bit harder than needed. She picked up the jacket and scarf, hanging them up on the coat rack on the back of the door.
Sihara was almost thinking of putting his jacket on her chair, but resisted the urge. The chair was lumpy and uncomfortable. She doubted that Sebastian even sat here. She traced her finger over the edge of her teacup. It took every ounce of mental strength to beat down the angry words. “Sebastian, I want to apologize for what happened in the library. I don’t like it when things are like this for us.”
Sebastian straightened and cleared his throat, “Perhaps… I was a bit harsh.”
That was the closest to an apology that he had ever given her. “You can meet without whoever you wish at whatever hour you must. I just want to have an opportunity to help. I am not terrible at diplomacy and finding solutions for tricky situations.”
Sebastian turned to face her, his head cocked to the side. He clearly had not been expecting the conversation to go this way. “That seems like a reasonable request. You must understand I won’t always have the time to explain everything, but… I will try to make an effort to include you when we are married.”
Two steps forward. I will civilize him yet.
Sihara nodded. “Mikel would be angry with me if I didn’t ask how you managed to evade him.”
Sebastian snorted, “I’m not going to do his job for him. A little exercise will do him some good.”
And one step back.
He accepted a steaming mug from Ned and took a tentative sip. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “It is a good tea, isn't it?”
Sihara gasped at the bloody bandage around his hand. Her teacup clattered into the saucer, and she hissed as the hot liquid burned her. “Zephr, what happened to your hand?”
“No need to go injuring yourself.” Sebastian frowned, hiding the hand in his pocket, “Ned, get a cold washcloth for the Taja.”
“Do you need me to call a healer?” Sihara stood up, half-way to the door.
“No.” Sebastian grunted, stepping in front of her to stop her “I, ah, picked up some broken glass. A customer knocked over a vase. It’ll be fine in a few months.”
“You have to be more careful!” Sihara accepted the cold washcloth from Ned and sighed as it soothed the burn from the hot tea.
“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.” Sebastian’s eyes hardened, and his mind was somewhere else.
I will have to send Doctor Quinto to check on that hand tomorrow. Can’t have him dying of an easily avoided infection.
Sihara changed the subject, “Do you have a moment? I found something interesting I wanted to show you.”
“I just have a few letters to send, and this whole mess is cleaned up...” Sebastian glanced at her again and cleared his throat, “But they can wait a few minutes.”
Sihara pulled the little black book she had purchased during the festival out of her purse.
Sebastian flipped through a few of the pages. His amusement turned to interest. “Where did you get this?”
“At the Festival. The market vendor told me it was written by an archaeologist working trying to translate the writing on the ancient ruins, but Jaden thought it was forged.”
“That little brat couldn’t have been older than thirteen when he last visited at a dig site.” Sebastian grumbled. “Well, both Jaden and the vendor were wrong. Whoever wrote this journal was not a professor of archeology. It is a journal from an exile. One who is fluent in the ancient language.”
Sihara frowned, “How is that possible? I thought all the ancient died long ago.”
Sebastian sat back in his seat, “Well, there is a theory that the people who built the ruins intermingled with the exiles. This could be a key piece of evidence to support that theory.”
Sihara bit her lip. “Or perhaps someone else learned how to translate the ancient language and used them to encode their journal?”
Sebastian wagged a finger at her, “No, see the manner in which it is written is causal; if it were more structured, it would indicate an encoded document. This is written by a person fluent in the ancient language. A very odd little exile.”
Sihara hovered over his shoulder, “What does it say?”
“The first page identifies the owner of the journal, a one Mylo Delphi. It has an inventory of his belongings, a poor soul indeed. The second page talks about a set of ruins he slept in for the night.”
Sihara looked around the room, “Do you have a map we can reference?”
“Do I have a map?” Sebastian made a noise of amusement.
Sihara snickered. “I’m sure you have ten.”
“You haven’t even seen the vault at my grandfathko’s estate in the Etanian Republic.” Sebastian looked over the maps on the walls until he found the one he was looking for. “Here it is, the map of the Outlands which was commissioned by my grandfathko.”
He peered at the map for a moment before pointing at a little dark mark. “Jell’s ruins… I’ll have to send a letter to my diggers.”
Sihara traced the strange letters in the black book, “Could you teach me to read it?”
Sebastian stared at her. If eyes were windows into one soul, a storm must be raging inside his. “Yes, of course, I'd love to teach you. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you join me for dinner tonight?”
Sihara raised an eyebrow. “You cook?”
Sebastian grinned, “I make a mean harnark stew.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the image Sebastian wearing an apron, covered in sauce, grumbling over a stew. “I will be here.”
***
Later that night, Sihara excused herself from dinner with the family and made her way to Sebastian’s shop. She was only halfway down the road when she heard shouting.
Mikel motioned for her to hide in the alleyway. They peeked around the corner.
A book came flying out the door of Sebastian’s shop, and he shouted, “Get out!”
A rumpled man stumbled backwards through the doorway. “I completely understand, 8,000 shy’lls is far too low a price. 15,000 shy’lls surely would be a better offer.”
Sihara’s jaw dropped, and she pulled Mikel back around the corner. Her unko was trying to bribe Sebastian.
Sebastian marched up to him. “Listen to me, you dimwitted fool, I don’t want your money. Sihara is mine. Nothing you say or do is going to make me call off the marriage. The position of the Taj will never be yours.”
The wording may not be perfect, but the intention behind them warmed her heart.
Her unko straightened his jacket. “Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”
“I can assure you, I won’t.” Sebastian closed the door in his face.
She knew her unko had bribed all her previous suitors out of marrying her in his attempt to claim the position of Taj, but she had never caught him in the act. Her unko would become the Taj on her twentieth-second birthday, if her marriage with Sebastian failed.
Sebastian’s response only strengthened her resolve to make things work between them. He may be secretive, but he had some honor.
She waited long enough that he wouldn’t wonder if she had been eavesdropping and knocked on the door. Mikel watched the direction her unko had slunk off.
Ned opened the door and motioned them inside, “The Taja is here.”
“I hope you brought your appetite!” Sebastian called from the kitchenette followed by the scrap of a wooden spoon on a pan.
He had brought in a small wooden table and two mismatched chairs. A bouquet of slightly wilted blue flowers were set in a vase without water. That was just like Sebastian.
Wearing a towel over one shoulder and a stained cotton undershirt, Sebastian hardly looked like himself.
“Have I come too early?” Sihara asked.
“No, no, you are right on time,” Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair. “Ned, you have done a great job today. Take the rest of the day off.”
Ned opened his mouth to say something and closed it. He bowed to both and beat a hasty retreat.
Sebastian glanced at Mikel, “Would you mind having your guardian wait for you outside?”
“Where the Taja goes, I go.” Mikel crossed his arms, all but asking Sebastian to test his resolve.
Sihara shot him an apologetic look, but was secretly relieved.
Sebastian smirked, “Well, in that case. I hope you don’t mind if I change into something a bit more presentable.”
After a moment of changing in the other room, he returned in a navy shirt.
He pulled a chair out. “Please have a seat.”
Sebastian spooned a portion of the stew into her bowl. He opened a dark green bottle of wine and poured it into a crystal glass. “I picked this up at the Market. It goes very well with the meal.”
Sihara indulged in a sip and smiled appreciatively. He had been out shopping for their dinner tonight.
Why do I find that more romantic than all the complements he has paid me?
He glanced at one of the maps on the wall and then back at Sihara. “I was surprised when you asked to learn the ancient language. I had this… feeling like I should teach you. I mean I wanted to teach you because there is this book…”
He struggled for the words and then stared at Mikel, “You have the Taja’s best interests at heart.”
Mikel nodded, his eyes narrowing.
“So any sensitive information that I might share with her will remain private?”
“Anything the Taja does not wish me to share will remain private.” Mikel responded cryptically.
He is nervous. Sebastian isn’t one to be nervous.
“Please don’t share anything I am about to tell you with anyone else. Even your fathko.” Sebastian pleaded.
Sihara readily agreed. He finally was ready to open up to her.
Sebastian let out a shaky breath, “I suppose I should start at the beginning. Have I ever told you about my grand-fathko Dion?”
Sihara shook her head.
“Oh, he was a wonderful chap, a real adventurer. I’m sure he would have liked you.” The thought seemed to please Sebastian.
Sihara sipped the wine. “You must have inherited his sense of adventure.”
Sebastian frowned. “Yes, quite right. Well, Dion became obsessed with finding a temple in the Outlands. He ended up using nearly all the family estate’s money to search for this great temple that was said to contain an artifact that would grant a person the greatest power in all the world.”
“My fathko never approved of this wasteful venture, but as soon as Dion died he wasted all the rest of the money on gambling.” Sebastian paused, his face twisted by anger. He shook his head. “As I was saying, on his deathbed, Dion insinuated that he had found the temple and left clues to its whereabouts. My fathko refused to hear anything about it. Once I had come of age, I seized control of the estate and made a living in the only way I had been taught: through procuring artifacts from the ruins.”
“But I found myself wondering, what if he really did find the temple? What could this artifact be? So I poured over his notes, his chronicles, and had my workers retrace his steps. I found it.”
“What was it?” Sihara asked in a whisper.
Sebastian leaned forward, “It was a book, so ornately decorated I just knew it was the artifact.”
Goosebumps made Sihara shiver.
What kind of book would be deemed the most powerful artifact in the world?
“But I couldn't open it. There was a lock on the side, and no matter who I took it to, they could not open it. I gave up for a time. Until the dig with Rosabella. She found the book in my things and asked me about it. I told her the story.”
Sebastian smiled, “A few days later, she burst into my tent with the book opened. The code was hidden on the cover in the ancient language. The book itself was written in that old tongue. She taught me to read it, and, well, it has opened my eyes to so much.”
Sebastian grabbed her hands, looking sternly into her eyes, “No one else knows of this book and no one can, do you understand?”
Sihara nodded, completely wrapped in this mystery. “I won’t say a word to anyone. What is in this book?”
Sebastian hesitated. “It isn’t so much what the book is about, it is… hard to explain. You will have to read it yourself.”
“Well, I am ready to start learning!” Sihara finished the last of her stew in a few quick bites.
Sebastian grinned and cleared the table. He offered her a handful of sheets of loose papers from his desk. “I have created a guide for you with the runes and their common language counterpart, the most common words and phrases, and their pronunciation.”
Sihara studied the information he had complied for her in just a day. “This is amazing. When did you have the time to do all of this?”
Sebastian cleared his throat, “I made the time.”
Sihara beamed. He made the time for her. Maybe she had him all wrong, maybe he just needed someone to trust. Maybe she could soothe the anger and distrust that marred his good looks.
As she reviewed the words with him, a look of contentment softened his features, and Sihara found it refreshing. “I think I am going to enjoy working with you.”
A smile spread over Sebastian’s face, “As will I soon-to-be Sihara Vaughen.”
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