Chapter 5: The Deadly Secret

 

It kept playing over and over in Zara’s mind.  As she went to leave Wisteria House, Lady Kessandra pulled her in, kissing her on her cheek and holding her there long enough to whisper, “Beware.  The Adjudicants are always watching.”  Did she mean to imply that the Adjudicants even watched them while they were inside Begonia House?  Surely, they couldn’t watch the concubines as they slept or took baths, could they?  

“Rowan, will you attend me on my walk today?  I wish to speak with you about improvements to the gardens.”  She did not wish to speak with Rowan about improvements to the gardens.  

Rowan grumbled about it but eventually acquiesced to the command.  

Zara usually took a walk around Ward 43 in the evenings as the sun was low in the sky.  This had two benefits.  Most of the concubines walked in the early afternoons, and it allowed Zara to avoid interacting with the women, many of whom she understood to be looking for any reason to report her to Lady Astrid for whatever foolish violation of rules they could dream up.  But it also kept her out of the harsh sunlight.  She still couldn’t see well in the sun, and her skin burned too easily.  The doctors back on Ankali said that it may take years for her to re-acclimate to being outdoors in the light due to some of the quasi-legal genetic therapy treatments she received in the bunker.  

This evening was cool enough for Zara to need a shawl, but Rowan wore their favorite jacket, the one with a faint oil-slick sheen to the exterior and slight shoulder pads that somehow did not make Rowan look any more or less masculine.  The androgyny of Rowan never ceased to amaze Zara.  Her home planet of Ankali had binary sexes at birth, as many planets did, but Rowan came from Ytera, where all citizens were born to a single-sex known as ‘Nor’ due to a genetic mutation.  They did not choose a binary sex until later in life when they were ready to have children, at which point they would trigger their body’s development manually with the introduction of one of two hormones.  It all sounded complicated and strange to Zara, but she knew that to Rowan, it was completely normal.  Though it often made Zara wonder if she’d have chosen to be a woman if she had to make a choice.  

“Alright, we’re far enough away,” Rowan said impatiently, “What’s going on?”

Zara was surprised that Rowan figured out that she’d brought them away from Begonia House for a secret discussion.  “Can’t I just want to walk with you?”

“No, you hate walking with me.  I’m grumpy and complain the whole time.  So when you ask me to do it, I know something is up.”  

“I suppose you have me there,” Zara replied, moving a bit closer to Rowan.  “You’re right.  Something is going on.  Since you’re our maintenance person, carpenter, technologist, and such, you’re the best one to address it.  I think it’s possible that the Adjudicants have recording devices in Begonia House.  We may not be able to take them out without alerting them that we know, but if we can find them, at least, we can know where we’ll be spied upon.  Do you think you can find out?”

“It’d be easier if I knew what they were using to spy, but…  Yeah, I can see if I can find anything.  Whatever it is, it must be pretty well hidden if we didn’t find it when we were cleaning.”  

Zara had considered that.  Perhaps they had some sort of nanotechnology capable of recording and parsing the conversations automatically, ranking them for manual review?  The technology of Viverides would be extremely advanced compared to what they’d known on Ankali, she knew.  Somehow, this planet could be frightfully backward and incredibly advanced at the same time.  All of the customs and clothing and conveyances harkened to the time before the Galactic Conquest.  And then you had things like the Adjudicants and the INA injections.  Ah, that reminded her..

“I also want you to find out what you can about the Imperial Nano Agent that they injected into me.  But, quietly.  Don’t use the Begonia House core-net connection, as it’ll be monitored.”

“Not a problem, boss.  Though I do know something about it.  Overheard it while I was at a tavern in town.”

Shocked, Zara came to a full stop.  “Rowan!  A tavern?!”

“Yeah, you know, a bar.  Where normal people go to socialize.  It’s really not that shocking.  Anyway, most taverns aren’t like the ones on Ankali.  It’s just some people sitting around drinking some relatively mundane fermented drinks and chatting.  Shocking depravity takes place elsewhere.”   Rowan shook their head and then waved it aside.  “Anyway, the Imperial Nano Agent prevents the concubines from getting pregnant.  Since the Emperor will likely live forever, he sees offspring as being a threat.  He had some kids in the past, I guess, who tried to assassinate or overthrow him.  They are all dead now, and there is no clear line of succession.  But, it only prevents concubines from getting pregnant BY the Emperor.  So, if they do get pregnant, then it’s automatically known that they were sleeping around.  I guess the INA does some other stuff too, but I’m not sure what.”

“I see.  Well, keep your ears open in case you find out anything more.”  What a strange way of doing things.  Zara rubbed both of her cheeks, trying to stave off the cool air of the evening. Eventually, she turned, intending to start back towards Begonia House.  Immediately, however, she spotted Xaz running towards them at a high rate of speed.  “Xaz?”

The creature skidded to a stop, his claw-like toes scraping the pavement noisily.  “Lady Inkblossom…”  He panted just for a moment, not too out of breath, with the excellent shape he was in, but Zara had the feeling that he’d run at top speed.  “Grumpy visitors have arrived.  Miss Trisla concocts the La Tersi tea.  The one that comes in the little white balls that looks like candy but is not candy and tastes so bitter.  Bitter bitter.”

Zara’s eyes widened.  Trisla wouldn’t make their most expensive tea for just anyone.  She glanced at Rowan, “We should hurry back.”

 

-*-*-*-

 

Zara returned to Begonia House just in time.  As she entered the parlor, she found two people sitting on one of the mismatched divans, each of them taking a sip of the tea handed to them by Trisla.  Lady Astrid looked as she normally did, perhaps with a bit more pink in her hair than usual.  The man beside her, however, Zara did not recognize but could make a decent enough guess.  He possessed the same coloring as Lady Astrid, though no pink in his hair.  Although he had a long face and thin nose, they suited his chiseled facial structure.  Zara would have imagined the captain of the Ebonrue Korkudai to be a far more gruff figure than this fellow, with his clean-shaven chin and upswept white-blond bangs.  

“Oh, this is quaint.  A La Tersi white strain.  I haven’t had such common tea in years.  Mother used to give it to us when we misbehaved, remember Vander?”

Lord Astor’s only reply was, “Hm.”

“Lady Astrid,” Trisla signed as she stepped aside, her face and mannerisms as formal as possible, “And her brother, Lord Astor, to see you, milady.”  

“What’s wrong with your serving girl?” Lady Astrid demanded abruptly.  “She hasn’t said a word since we arrived.  If she’s deaf or mute, why doesn’t she have implants to deal with that?”

Zara tried to steel herself against what she knew would likely be a harrowing visit.  She still didn’t know why Lady Astrid hated her so much, other than that it likely had something to do with the prior occupant of Begonia House.  “Trisla’s throat was damaged by inhaling conchems during the war on our planet.  It causes too much genetic variance for the easy installation of implants.  Although she could go through the procedures to rehabilitate her throat, it would be exceedingly painful and comes with many other dangers, so she has decided not to.”  Zara wanted to yell that it wasn’t ANY of Lady Astrid’s business.  What right did she have to know anything at all about Trisla?  Zara glanced at Trisla and tried to apologize with her eyes.  Deciding that the best course of action would be to change the subject, she asked, “My apologies for not being prepared for your visit, Lady Astrid, Lord Astor.  Is there something particular that brings you to Begonia House today?”

Lady Astrid turned to the side.  Beside her on the divan was a large gift box with a bit of tissue paper hanging out.  On top of the box was a data chip in a small glass case.  “A few weeks ago, Madame Olendra got our dresses in for the Night Blossom Dance.  I told her I’d save her girl a trip and bring yours right over to you.  And then, I’m afraid, it slipped my mind for a while.  But, here you go.”

“Night Blossom Dance?”  Zara leaned forward to take the box, making sure to grab the data chip first.  “What’s on the chip?”

“Instructions for the dance, of course.  You’ll need to learn it before you can perform it.”  Lady Astrid’s reedy, thin smile allowed her to give a look of false pity to Zara.  “All the Concubines perform in front of the Emperor.  Each is assigned to one of several dance numbers.  Ward 41, 42 and 43 will perform Whirling Aurora.  The Night Blossom Dance is important.  It’s one of the four times a year we’re brought into the Forbidden City, though only into the Outer Court, of course.”  

Realization swept over Zara.  Lady Astrid had kept this from her as long as she could, just so that Zara would have far less time to prepare and would, hopefully, completely embarrass herself.  “How long do I have until the dance?”

“About ten days?  Surely that’s enough to learn one dance.  It barely takes me an hour or two to learn any of the court dances.”  Astrid swept her hair over her shoulder as she pressed close against Lord Astor.  The man didn’t seem to care about the horrible trick being played on Zara, but he did watch her like a hawk.  

Zara bit the inside of her cheek hard so as not to give Lady Astrid a piece of her mind.  “Yes.  Of course.  Thank you for bringing the dress and data chip over, Lady Astrid.”  Politeness.  Manners.  Etiquette.  She just needed to keep from strangling this woman.

“You visited Lady Kessandra,” Lord Astor said, changing the subject.  He did not ask a question, but somehow made the statement into one.

“I did.”

“She is disgraced, of course,” he said.  As he spoke, Lady Astrid curled her hands around her brother’s arm and looked up at him with the rapt attention of a younger sister doting upon her elder brother.

“Is she?  How so?”  Zara asked as she lifted the box and handed it off to Trisla.  “Put it in my sewing area, if you would.  I’ll make any necessary alterations later.”

The revelation that Zara sewed caused Lady Astrid’s face to turn sour and disdainful.  Lord Astor seemed not to notice his sister’s scowl as he answered Zara’s question.  “She used to be an Imperial Consort. Incredibly highly ranked.  Second in rank only to the Supreme Imperial Consort.  Before she was moved to Ebonrue, her rank was lowered to Honored Consort.”

“Why?”

“Nobody knows.  There are only rumors.  And rumors are not worth repeating.”  Lord Astor’s countenance didn’t really readily express emotion.  It wasn’t cold, not exactly.  More…guarded.  

“I don’t want to talk about that old woman,” Lady Astrid complained, scooting forward in her seat slightly.  “I can see you’ve barely changed any of the furnishings since you’ve moved in.  It’s such an eclectic look.  You should really see about updating Begonia House’s decor if you’re going to host guests.”

“But I didn’t…”  Zara stopped herself from pointing out that she didn’t invite them to Begonia House in the first place.  “I don’t know much about furnishings and decor.  My apologies, Lady Astrid.  You’ve been here before?”

“I have.  I had tea with Lady Noralina many times here.  She was the last resident of Begonia House.  We were close.  Fast friends.  Like sisters.”  

Zara noticed that Lord Astor gave Lady Astrid the faintest look of dubious surprise, indeed so faint that Zara wondered if she’d merely imagined it.

“In fact,” Lady Astrid continued, “I loaned her a special book of poetry that I’d personally written.  If you find it around, I would so love to have it back.  Small tome.  Blue cover with peonies on it.”  

Zara looked towards Trisla and signed, “Was anything like that found while cleaning?”  Trisla shook her head.  “Sorry Lady Astrid,” she said, looking back at the pair on the divan, “We’ve not found anything like that, and we’ve cleaned fairly thoroughly.  If we come across it, though, I’ll be sure to get it back to you.”

“Kind of you,” Astrid replied, though somehow she made it sound like an insult.  “Well, we best be going.  Thank you for the tea and the…illuminating conversation.  Come Vander?”

Trisla showed the two to the door.  Once Zara heard the latch, she collapsed into one of the mismatched armchairs in the parlor.  

Rowan’s head poked around the corner.  “You’re terrible at dancing, Lady Zara.  I’ve seen wobbly baby goats that are more graceful.”

“I know,” she grumbled, grabbing a pillow off of the divan, and then abruptly screaming into it.

 

-*-*-*-

 

When Zara contacted Lady Kessandra in the morning, the older woman came over immediately.  Zara made her comfortable in the parlor, where much of the furniture had been pushed aside so that Zara could practice dancing.  

“It’s strange.  First-year concubines usually are exempted from the dances, as it’s believed they’re still learning.  Someone must have removed your exemption,” Lady Kessandra remarked as she sipped some coffee.  “No no, not quite so fast as you spin.  You’ll make yourself dizzy.”

Zara came to a stop and put her hands on her knees, slightly out of breath.  The doctors on Ankali had told her not to exert herself.  Too much physical activity could trigger breathing difficulties, as her lungs were still scarred from inhaling conchem during the war.  “Will you also dance, Lady Kessandra?”

“Me?  No, no.  I applied for an exemption on the basis of age years ago.  Here, this might help.”  Lady Kessandra opened an embroidered kinchaku purse and took out a holochip.  “Do you have a holoplayer?  I know they’re considered old-fashioned now.”

Zara nodded as she took the holochip and went to the side of the room.  After inserting it into the old player, the music for the Whirling Aurora dance began, and a number of tiny drones no bigger than dragonflies ejected and zipped off to take up points around the room in order to project two faceless hologram dancers moving in time to the music.  Zara watched for a moment, and she had to agree.  It did make it a bit easier to see them move in three dimensions rather than just on the broken viewscreen.  Placing herself between the figures, she tried to keep up with the dance.

“Will I meet the Emperor at this event, Lady Kessandra?”

“It is unlikely.  He may be there, but you won’t be presented to him.  However, at the feast you may meet some members of the royal family or the Noble Ministers.”

“Like Prince Senthir?”  

Lady Kessandra’s smile was slight, but she cracked open a fan to hide it behind.  “You’re fond of Prince Senthir?  Most people find him melancholy and a bit grumpy.”

“Not you though?  He visits you monthly, doesn’t he?”

Lady Kessandra’s fan closed a few inches and she inclined her head.  “He does, but at the behest of his brother.  The Emperor can’t visit me, so he sends Senthir to check on me.”

“Oh, I see.”  Zara felt vindicated.  Lord Astor had insinuated that Lady Kessandra shouldn’t be associated with on the basis of her lowered rank, despite being a higher rank than Lady Astrid and herself.  But if even the Emperor checked on her every month, then surely he still held her in some esteem.  Though, the Emperor was…the Emperor.  Surely he could visit Lady Kessandra if he wanted to do so.  All of Viverides constituted his personal and private property, the seat of the Galactic Empire.  Saying he couldn’t go somewhere on Viverides was a bit like saying someone disallowed you from using a bathroom in your own house.

Zara got so caught up in her thoughts that she tripped over her left foot.  She tumbled onto the floor in an inelegant sprawl, though thankfully didn’t twist or cut anything in the process.  “Oh, I’m just not made for dancing,” she sighed.  Instead of standing, she flopped over on the floor, laying on her back and looking up at the ceiling.  “Tell me they won’t execute me for making a mess of a dance, Lady Kessandra.”

The old woman laughed merrily.  “No, no, they don’t…”

“Lady Zara!  Lady Zara!”  Rowan’s voice interrupted the conversation just a second before they burst into the room and came skidding to a stop.  “I didn’t find any spying devices, but I found something you have…to…see.  Oh, hello.”  Belatedly bowing to Lady Kessandra, Zara could see Rowan wincing at having entered in such a boisterous manner.

“My apologies, Lady Kessandra.  Rowan has the manners of rabid mongoose, at times.”  

Lady Kessandra waved it off with her usual good nature.  “No, no.  The excitement of youth is thrilling.  Plus, now I want to know as well.  What is your discovery?”

Rowan produced a book covered in blue sateen with embroidered pink peonies on it.  “This is the book of poetry Lady Astrid described loaning to Lady Noralina, isn’t it?”  

When Zara reached out to take it, she immediately noticed that it had a rather thick silvery contraption on one side.  “A lock?  Who would lock a book of poetry?”  Though, Zara considered briefly that Astrid might just be such a spectacularly bad poet that Lady Noralina had decided to keep the poems under lock and key.

Rowan held up one finger and then approached with a hand-held unit often used for signal scanning and, frankly, picking digital locks.  Within just a few seconds, and a few adjustments by Rowan, the lock popped open.  

“Oh, I mean…”  Zara wasn’t sure she should look.  Locked items like this tended to be incredibly private.  Prying would be in bad taste.

“Go on,” Lady Kessandra urged, her grin mischievous and oddly impish for a woman her age.  “We all want to know exactly what kind of poetry Lady Astrid has been writing.”  

Carefully, Zara picked up the small book and opened it.  Flipping through the pages, she could easily discern that nothing within was in the format of a poem.  No.  Each page contained a date on the top followed by an entry scrawled carefully in gorgeous handwriting.  She flipped through a few and caught several references to Begonia House and its vast cavern of cheese in the basement.  Nothing appeared unusual, so Zara skipped to the end.  

She read the entry aloud for the group.  “Santimber 9, 3391 A.G.C.  My life is in great danger.  I’ve discovered a terrible secret.  An unspeakable secret.  Most unfortunately, I have no proof as of yet.  But, I soon will.  If the Astors find out what I know before I can prove anything, I doubt I will live to make another entry.  If I do not update this… To whoever finds this journal, I am sure you are the newest resident of Begonia House.  I’ve done nothing but attempt to prove my loyalty and obedience to the Emperor.  Please, I beg you, avenge me if you can.”

The trio looked at each other in silence.  Zara closed the book quietly and snapped the lock back into place.  “I think you should…  Put this back where you found it, Rowan.”  

Lady Kessandra nodded her approval as she fanned herself slowly.  “Yes.  And for now, let us not speak of it until we can find out more.”

 

-*-*-*-

 

Under the big oak tree in the inner courtyard of Magnolia House, Astrid spread herself luxuriously over her brother’s lap as he leaned against the thick trunk.  With her head on his leg, he couldn’t easily keep the book he’d been reading in his lap, so he had to put it aside.  Quietly, he instead slowly caressed his sister’s hair.

“You’re worried about that silly girl in that silly cheese house.  If they haven’t found Nora’s journal by now, I can’t imagine they ever will.  Don’t think of her.  Think of me.”

Vander grunted, and he watched as his sister slid her hand down to her thigh.  Inch by inch, she began gathering up the fabric of her dress, pulling it higher and higher on her leg, revealing the same legs he adored having wrapped around him.  “Someone could see.”

“Let them.  I’ll say I was having you look at a discolored spot on my leg or something of that nature.  Truly, Vander, you’re too worried.”

Vander’s teeth grit together.  She knew exactly what to do to unsettle him.  Every single time, he promised himself it would be the last, while also knowing…  It would never be the last.  He was addicted to her.  He’d given up his posh and rewarding life on Seliora in order to just be in the same city as her.  Astrid shifted her weight, almost writhing against him.  The back of her head brushed incessantly against the thin zipper that held his pants closed.  She did it on purpose.  She always did it on purpose.

He attempted to stop her by grabbing her hair, fisting his hand in it, and pulling sharply to still her head.  She gasped, moaning deliriously in wanton pain, and in response, hiked her skirt high enough that he could plainly see she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Stop it,” Vander demanded.  “I told you, no more.”  Unfortunately, no matter what he said, his body betrayed him.  

“You can say that all you want, but eventually, you’ll give in.  I love it when you hate yourself.  Your self-loathing and rage make you ravage me like a ravenous beast.”

With a huff, Vander shoved Astrid off of his lap and stood.  As he walked away, he could hear her tinkling, girlish laugh.  

“You’ll be back.”