She had displeased him in some way. Had left him wanting. For truly, when had she ever been enough alone to tame the lusts and desires of a male?

She could see no other reason why he would subject her to this... humiliation. And surely if he cared anything for her feelings then he would not have brought her here at all?

If she had thought they'd reached some place of accord and understanding then it had been but foolishness or delusion. 

Wary, she gazed across the chamber at the figure standing by the great fireplace. His consort stood with her arms pulled tight around her body, gazing out towards the sea. Gazelle-like eyes distant, removed.

He had told her nothing when he appeared in the kitchen. He'd told Mor to prepare for Jhaan's imminent arrival and requested Fara fill a jug with water and meet him in the entrance hall. His tone had been cold and commanding, and he had barely met her eyes after the moment he'd happened upon she and Mor at the table. Afraid he may have overheard them and not wanting to displease him further, she had simply moved to do as he bid.

It had been all she could do not to drop the jug when she saw what awaited her. His hand placed tenderly upon Iaria of Asalla's shoulder, his eyes soft and filled with concern as he gazed down at her.

Her fingers had tightened into fists, her body trembling with quiet rage. With only a cursory glance in her direction, he requested Fara show her to the chamber next to his own while he "went to fetch her a soothing bath."

In absolute silence, Fara had led Iaria of Asalla up the great winding staircase of Teredia and into the chamber next to Theodan's.

Some great misfortune had befallen his consort. Something which had not been apparent under the dark rock and setting sun below but which she saw clearly now. Her face had been beaten; garish purple markings around her eye and cheek, her lip swollen and torn, her hair matted and dirty. A surge of pity rose through Fara the longer she looked at her.

On tentative steps, she moved toward her across the chamber. 'Are you thirsty?' Fara asked. 'It is but water, but I can fetch you some wine if you would prefer it?'

Iaria did not acknowledge the question at first, before turning her head, as though only now remembering she was not alone in the chamber.

'Water is fine. I thank you,' she said. Between them, the air rattled, tight and constrained. 

Fara moved to the small table where a tray was pre-laid with a bowl and two cups.  She poured the water and carried it across the chamber to Iaria. As she reached out to take it, Fara noticed that her fingernails were rimmed in dirt, a couple torn from their beds, the tips stained with hardened blood. Her hand shook as she brought the cup to her mouth and drank. Pity leaked further into Fara's bones.

'I can help you undress for your bath?'

Iaria's gaze softened on her then. 'Why are you being so?' Her voice too sounded scraped raw and sore. 'It is not in a woman's nature to be kind towards one who has injured her as I injured you.'

The forthrightness of her words took Fara by surprise. She considered her response. 'Neither is it in a woman's nature to whip another,' said Fara. 'I hold you not to blame for it. You were commanded to do to me as you did.'

'As you are commanded to serve me now?'

Fara stiffened. 'He did not command me,' she said.  'He asked it of me, and I agreed.' How like Vala's words they were. Did Fara now rush to do his bidding as Vala once had? At least, unlike Vala's, Fara's heart was still her own. 'Why don't you sit? You must be weary from your journey?'

A whisper of sadness pulled at one corner of Iaria's mouth. 'It pains me to sit.'

Fara nodded and instead moved to the fire, lit before their arrival, to place another length of wood from the pile upon it.  Her back bore the weight of Iaria's stare for a few long moments before a knock on the door interrupted them. Carrying perhaps the same basin Fara had used earlier, Theodan and the older Leoth she now knew to be Khalle carried Iaria's bath into the chamber.

They set it down before the fire, Theodan issuing Khalle with a single word in Leoth before turning to Iaria. His eyes soft with concern, he placed a gentle hand upon Iaria's arm, lowering his head toward hers.  A confusing swell of feeling rose inside her at the sight of them. The closeness of paramours. 

'I must attend to Jhaan. I bid you bathe and try to rest,' he said. 'I will come to you under the moon.' 

Something sharp pierced Fara's chest, stealing her breath.

'Yes, master,' whispered Iaria.

He turned and his gaze finally caught Fara's own, a spark of light flaring in his dark eyes.  Had he too forgotten she stood there?  He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again abruptly. He lowered his eyes from hers and gave a dip of his head before striding from the room.

As the door closed behind him she felt the sting of tears rush up behind her eyes. What a fool she had been. Had she truly thought something between them had been altered? That she could somehow earn a place in his affections? Had she even wanted such a thing? 

No.  She was certain she had not.  But how dare he put this need, this eagerness - this softness - inside her only to turn himself to stone.

Iaria had crossed the chamber and stood now by the bed, where she began to loose the tie of her long cloak. Shrugging it from her shoulders she laid it out gently on the bed. Only when she turned to loosen the back of her gown and winced in pain did Fara emerge from her private storm.

'Let me help you,' she said, going to her.  The back of Iaria's gown was torn and stained and barely intact. She reached out to loosen the thin ribbons which held it closed, pulling at them gently to free it from her body.  As it fell to the floor, Fara gasped at the sight.

She had been brutally used. Blood smeared the backs of her thighs, bruised and torn flesh across her back and neck which still wept gently.

When Iaria turned to face her, Fara had to bite her lip hard to prevent the tears spilling from her eyes. Her breasts bore bite marks and scratches, her neck and throat ringed in violence. Would the monstrosity of men ever cease? When she lifted her eyes to meet Iaria's she found them narrowed, curious.

'You did not cry as you were whipped, but for me, you shed tears?' Iaria's voice held awe.    

Fara shook her head, wiped her tears with the back of her hand. 'I — I am sorry for what you have endured.'

'You need not be. You were not the cause of it.'

Shame and guilt speared through her. She was the cause of it.  Yes, the High Visier had shown her the truth of Zybar's intentions, but still, she was unable to shirk the weight of this war from her shoulders. War had been declared in her name. Galyn had died in defence of her honour.  Arielle had perished for her freedom. Countless innocents had perished because of her choices.

Something turned to stone inside her then. She would allow no more of it. She would stay Valdr's hand from this path even if she had to sacrifice her soul again to do it.

'I am... I am sorry...' she whispered. 

'Do not cry for me,' the consort said, gently. 'Soon I will be healed.'

Fara wanted to tell her that wounds such as these would never heal. The marks may disappear from her body but they would never disappear from the soul. Did her own not bear testament to this truth? Though Fara's had been given with words of love and eternal devotion, they left the same imprint as those given to Iaria in brutality. 

Iaria moved toward the steaming copper bath and very carefully climbed into it, her lithe limbs moving with delicate fragility. The now familiar scent of rose and spice had begun to fill the room and as Iaria lowered herself into the bath she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh of contentment.

'If you would prefer, I can let you bathe, alone.'

Iaria opened her eyes and smiled softly at her. 'I think... I would enjoy your company.'

She moved to refill Iaria's cup and set it on the table next to the basin.  'Would you like me to wash your hair?' She asked her.  She did not linger on the thought that this, only a short time ago, would have stung her as demeaning. It now felt like a necessary kindness, a gesture of atonement.  

Iaria nodded and moved to sit up as Fara emptied the rest of the water from the jug into the empty chamber pot. Kneeling by the side of the bath she refilled it with some of the fragrant water, then reached up to pour it over Iaria's golden lengths. 

She was reminded suddenly of Cassi, of each time she had done this same thing for her.  Fara would send the maids from the room and take great care and joy in washing her sister's beautiful ebon hair. For hours they would tell each other stories until the water turned cold and their fingers shrivelled like dried fruit.  After, she would spend the night in Cassi's bed stroking her damp hair until they fell asleep dreaming of the handsome princes and blood-drinking monsters from their stories.

Valdr had hated it of course. Had hated how inseparable they were in those days and nights as Cassi slipped further and further from the mortal realm. Had hated even more when she'd begged father to have her bed moved into Cassi's chamber. Her love for Cassi had always inspired his rage. Her love for anything but him resented or ridiculed or destroyed.

'You do not cry for me still?' Iaria asked, softly.

Fara blinked. Tears ran down her cheek though she had not known it. She shook her head. 'I mourn for my sister.'

'She was killed in Azura?'

'No. She died as a child. Washing your hair reminded me... I would often do the same for her.'

There followed a few moments of silence before Iaria spoke again. 'You have family... left behind in Azura?'

Fara looked at her. So then the subject of Fara's true identity had not been broached? She supposed there was no reason Theodan would discuss it with his consort. She did not wish to discuss it either.  'My husband was killed by a Leoth soldier,' she said.

'I am sorry for it.'  She sounded genuine.  Fara nodded, lowering her gaze.  'He is a kind master. He will offer you a good life here,' Iaria said after a moment. There was a tone in her words that Fara could not place. Choosing not to respond to this, she asked a question of her own instead.

'You were not born in Leoth. Do not you miss your own realm?'

A shadow rolled over her sea-blue gaze. 'I am of Zybar. I have no wish to return to it.'  Her tone told Fara all she needed to know - Zybar soldiers had done this to her. She was relieved Valdr's men were not to blame for it.

'And how did you come to be here? To be of House Asalla?'

Iaria did not answer right away. She let the question hang in the air a few moments while she gazed into the soft snap of the fire.  'I was sold to an Azurian merchant when I was but a girl,' she said her voice mellow, soft.

She saw the look of horror in Fara's eye and so continued.

'Our tribe were starving after a great drought. There was no hunt or crop, and we had taken to eating our animals so that we had not even milk or eggs at the last. The men were forced to leave their women and children to find work in the markets and towns. The tribe was scattered. I, along with some others, those of age, were taken to market by our fathers. We would be sold or we would starve.'

'You were sold by your father?' She could not keep the shock from her voice.

She lifted a shoulder.  'My mother was dead, he had five sons and I, a weak girl. My fate could have been worse, for after some years at sea aboard an Azurian trading ship I had grown useful and strong and became learned in the ways of men.'  A child aboard a ship of traders. Fara's stomach roiled and turned. She thought of little Saira in the slave camp - thick curls and wide eyes - what would become of her? 'The men were kind to me. Kinder than the women - who saw only burden and then a rival in me.'

'A child is no rival to a woman,' Fara frowned.

'But I would soon become a woman, a young one - which for them is but a threat. There were not many women aboard, and each was rival to the other.'

'Then you were bought by the Asalla?'

'I was not bought. I went freely.' Seeing Fara's disbelief she merely smiled. 'I had waited many years to visit Leoth. I had heard tell of their race. Of their strength. Of their terrible beauty - this strange realm infused by its dark god. Their seers who could see what would be and what had been.  Only under certain moon cycles are human traders to dock and when they are given leave to come to shore the port is the only place where we are permitted. When we at last arrived I felt as though I had stepped upon some magical world which I had seen only in my dreams.  I explored the port from end to end, tasting their strange fruits and their dark wine and could stare only with marvel at the world which lay beyond the gate. Then I saw them. Human women. Entering the port from the Leoth side. Of course, I knew who they were - what they were. The next time we docked in Leoth was almost one hundred moons later. I pledged myself to the Prime consort of Asalla and she accepted. I have never regretted my choice. Leoth is my home.'

There was genuine happiness in Iaria's eyes at the memory.  She loved Leoth as though it were her home, wore her status as a consort as though it were a badge of honour.  Little by little, each thing Fara knew about this realm was being re-told, re-learned, re-written.

'And then you came to be claimed by Theodan?'

Did a note of lament creep into her eyes? 'I am not claimed by him,' said Iaria.  'We belong to the realm.  If a Leoth male of honour desires to claim us solely, then a proposition is made to the Prime Consort. If accepted then we are released from our duty and given over to our new master. A concubine or mate.'  Her eyes lingered on Fara's collar, envy clear in her gaze suddenly. 'You are fortunate - you will learn that he is a fair master and a most passionate bedmate.'

Fara froze solid, her cheeks flushing with heat. 'I have... no intention of succumbing to a life of ownership,' Fara said sharply.

'I know it is difficult, but you must learn to forget where you have come from and what you were before. Soon he will come to be for you as though he is all you have ever known.'

Fara stood, her breath quivering oddly in her chest. 'I shall let you finish and go fetch you some more water,' she backed away from the basin towards the door.

'I did not mean to offend,' Iaria said. 'I sought only to lighten the burden you now carry.'

'There is no offence, Iaria, I assure you.  Perhaps instead of water, you would prefer wine?'

Iaria sighed, deflated. 'Yes, some darkwine would please me greatly. It will help me sleep until he comes to me.'

Another stab at her chest. 'Very well,' she said and slipped out of the chamber. Outside, she pressed her back against the door to calm herself.

Soon he will come to be for you as though he is all you have ever known. 

As she hurried along the corridor toward the staircase, a door from one of the bedchambers was pulled open so suddenly that she crashed headlong into him, the jug slipping from her hand toward the floor.  Swift and smooth he caught it, then took a step back from her, as though afraid she would burn him. His stare felt like a firebrand on her chest.

Without a word, he held out the jug to her.

'Jhaan... is... well?' She stammered as she took it from him, making sure not to touch him as she did. 

A nod. 'The Lakaari assures me he will recover in time.'

While now he looked at her unflinching and direct, she found it was harder to look at him. Had he really whispered his promise to protect her with a voice edged raw from desire? Had she imagined the soft tenderness in his eyes as he moved inside her? She glanced down away from him.

'I am glad of it,' she managed, half breathless.  When she met his eyes once more his gaze was unchanged. Both hot and cold. Something thick filled her throat. She spoke to clear it. 'Iaria bathes still. I said I would fetch some wine to ease her pain.'

He reached out to take the jug back from her. 'Then I shall get it.'

'You bid me serve her did you not? You think me incapable of the task now?' Her tone was hotter than she intended and her tongue felt the burn from it. 

Something softened in his eyes. 'I did not ask it of you to shame you, Fara,' he said.  'I thought only that she would welcome - be comforted - by one such as you...'

'One such as me?' She frowned. 

'Who has suffered as you have. Who has faced what you have, and borne it with strength and grace.'  His eyes were rounded with sincerity.  A rush of warmth hit her, soothing her.

He took a step closer to her so that she could feel the heat of his Leoth blood radiate against her. She felt something familiar awaken.

'Fara, there is something I must speak to you of,' he said, a quiet urgency in his voice now. 'Something you must know.' 

Whatever it was, he had no desire to speak of it. Whatever it was, she would not welcome, she could sense it. She imagined all manner of things then. Valdr's ships had reached Leoth's horizon, she was to be taken back before the council, she was to be executed for her supposed crimes against Leoth, he was to be exiled for his after all.

'Then speak it,' she said, breathless with fear suddenly.

He blinked, indecision sparking in the depths of his eyes.  'Later. I will come to you later and we shall talk of it then.'

'And is that to be before or after you have attended your consort?'

He frowned, but guilt hovered in his eyes. 'Fara, I go to her because she suffers - because it is my duty to see her healed.' He looked and sounded resigned.

'Because your arms are where all broken females go to heal and find comfort, Theodan?' She mocked.

When she went to move past him he reached for her and pulled her back, forcing her against his body. He burned hot and hard like stone under the sun's glare. The white scent of the wind lingered around him, the rich sharp notes of the forest which seemed to live under his skin and in his hair. As his gaze lowered to her mouth a flare of heat ripped through her body.

She did not know what she might do if he kissed her but she longed for it and feared it in equal measure. The need for him then like none she had known before it. Memories of his mouth, his tongue, his throat soft and raw as it moaned against her most secret flesh. She had not imagined it. Had not imagined him as he had been in those moments. For those moments now lived inside her. Just as he would now live inside her. As Valdr did. As Galyn did.

Unlike them, the notion of Theodan there, inside her, for eternity did not repulse or shame her.

It strengthened her.
It silenced them.

'Eraphyr alea estys perseneor...' he whispered as he brought his hand up to her cheek.  She had heard the words before. He had spoken them before. On the beach, before they'd left for Leoth. 

This time she did not repeat them back to him. This time she merely watched as the light in his eyes burned bright for an instant before slowly dimming once more. His expression turning from soft to hard. He dropped his hand from her cheek and let go of her.

'You will find darkwine in the cellar beyond the lower pantry,' he said curtly. Something inside her sank, cold to the floor. 'The door will be locked but the key is with the others — on the wall above the woodpile.' He turned and marched down the corridor away from her. Her heart hammering in her chest, she turned to look over her shoulder.  She was relieved to see him enter his own chamber and not Iaria's.

***

She found the key where he said she would and followed his instructions through Mor's lower pantry towards the wine cellar. The floor as she went sloped decidedly downward toward a wooden door cut thick into the whitewashed stone. She felt a chill blow over her as she pushed open the door. The cellar seemingly the only place in Teredia that did not pulse with its ancient heat. Whatever the cause the room was dark and chilled and so functioned as a store for meats and cheeses, salted and wheeled, as well as cream and milk, and of course many barrels of Leoth wine.

The casks were piled high at the furthest end of the cellar, beside which were several large wooden crates containing jugs, goblets, and plates — enough for a large celebratory feast - though dusty and clearly unused for many moons.

Some large earthenware pots were lined up beneath the casks and had already been pre-filled, their sealed wax stoppers ready to be plucked free. She tested the weight of one of the smaller pots and lifted the lightest with her back to the kitchen.

Eraphyr alea estys perseneor...

Eraphyr alea estys perseneor...

Eraphyr alea estys personeor...

She did not want to forget the words again. Perhaps she could ask Mor what they meant? Perhaps Iaria spoke enough Leothin to know? She should have asked him what they meant.

Back in the kitchen she set the wine pot down on the large wooden counter and replaced the cellar key on its hook above the woodpile. The wax topper pulled from the wine pot with ease and she proceeded to refill the jug, repeating Theodan's words to herself as she did so. 

'A Princess of Calate looking quite at home in the Commander's kitchen...' said a voice from behind her. 'A sight I never thought to see.'

Startled with fright, she turned.  The Leoth stood just inside the kitchen by the back door. He was as tall and as broad as Theodan, the honed form and the weapons strapped casually to each hip denoting him as a warrior too. His mouth was lifted up into a smile and he stood quite nonchalantly, but the sight of him at close quarters was formidable. The fright must have shown on her face for he put his hands up in supplication.

'I am not here to hurt you, princess, be calm.' She recognised him then as the Leoth who spoke for Theodan at his trial.

'You... are Elyon?' Vala had told her his name.

'He spoke to you of me? I suppose I am not surprised.' He sighed, though arrogantly.

Elyon reached down to snatch something from the sack by the door. He bit into it with a crunch as he studied her, as though she were some curiosity he had not seen before.

'Theodan is in his chambers,' she said, looking away from the weight of his stare. She busied herself replacing the stopper atop the wine pot. 

'Eraphyr alea estys perseneor...' he said. 'A strange choice of words for a princess of Calate to be uttering. Did you hear them somewhere?'

Her heart tripped in her chest. She had spoken them aloud? He had heard her speak them aloud.

Her cheeks hot, she could barely force her eyes to continue holding his. She hoped her voice was calm. 'I suppose I must have. Though I cannot recall where.'

'You cannot recall where...' He did not believe her. Smart, quick eyes bore into her. Where Theodan's eyes burned purple, Elyon's held a slash of amber. 

'Do you know what they mean?' She asked him. This was foolish she knew, but perhaps asking Mor or Iaria was even more foolish.

Smiling wider he leaned up off the wall and walked toward her, his movements careful and slow as though he took care not to frighten her.

'Of course, I do. And I will happily tell you.'

She gave him an expectant look.

'If you tell me, quite truthfully, from whom it was that you heard them?' He grinned.

She considered how badly she wanted to know. She considered if it was greater or lesser than the idea of this Leoth knowing anything of what lived and breathed between her and Theodan. Theodan trusted this Leoth she supposed. And according to Vala, this Leoth spoke to Theodan's innocence and honour. But without knowing what they meant how could she entrust his words, spoken to her, to someone else? It could mean danger. For him. For her. For Azura.

'As I said, I cannot recall where I heard them,' she said simply.

Whatever it was that she and Theodan had, it was theirs alone. She desired no other soul as advocate upon it. She dipped her head and lifted the jug of wine, moving toward the door.

'My soul has known no light before you,' he called out.

She froze. Her breath grew fast and thin as her hands began to tremble. Clutching the jug tight to her chest she turned slowly, afraid her legs might shatter beneath her. 

'Your Leothin needs practice,' he said. 'for it is: Eir - aphyir - aleaya - is - tys - perse - nyore.' He pronounced each word slow and clear and not in the languid, wistful way in which Theodan had. 'My soul has known no light before you.  Those are the words he spoke to you, princess - the truth he did not want you to know.'

He widened his eyes as he took another bite of the soft red fruit, smiling mischievously at her as he chewed.