Meetings
It was a rare time when Gen was in the boys’ dormitory alone, and it usually wasn’t a good thing. Sometimes it was because he had planted a stinkbug in one of his cousin’s bed. Other times, like tonight, it was because the entire court was celebrating a momentous occasion. And in Gen’s experience, momentous occasions involved stuffy court ceremonies, uncomfortable clothes, and boring speeches from his many uncles.
But on this particular momentous occasion, the crime went far beyond having to stand still for hours and hours, or hearing thinly veiled insults about his mother’s side of the family.
Today his favorite cousin in the whole world had become Eddis.
She had explained to him, one quiet afternoon when they’d met in the library, her eyes still red and her nose still running, that just because she was going to be Eddis, country and queen, didn’t mean they couldn’t spend time together. But Gen knew what that really meant. Yes, they’d see each other at court dinners, and exchange pleasantries afterwards, but there would be no more sword duels, no more mudwrestling, no more sneaking out to catch Cleon or Therespides in awkward situations with palace maids. She was Eddis now, and Eddis was No Fun.
So today, he’d stayed until they put the crown on her head, and then ducked out from under his father’s watchful eye and evaded his grandfather’s suspicion and barred himself in the dormitory. Not that he had really needed to lock the door; everyone else was much too busy “celebrating.” They’d be down there dancing, and laughing, and drinking too much wine, and eating sumptuous food…
Gen’s stomach growled, but he drew his knees up to his chin. Judging by the passing of the crescent moon, he’d been sulking for at least three hours. No, not sulking-sending out a clear message regarding his feelings on this whole coronation matter. He knew that she had to become queen, because her father and her brothers had died, and she was the oldest sister, but he couldn’t help feeling that maybe her sister could have become queen instead. Or even one of his uncles. She didn’t have to take the throne and turn into the stuffy man her father had been.
Well, all right, she certainly wasn’t going to become a man. He laughed a little at the thought.
Suddenly there was a BANG on the door, followed by loud, drunken laughter. “It’s locked!” came Timos’s slurred voice.
“Well break it down,” followed his cousin Tenris’s command. Gen froze, eyes darting around the room. The last thing he wanted was to be discovered hiding, instead of assumed lost amid the crowd of people in the rest of the palace.
A few moments later, the door opened and four of his older cousins burst in, laughing together. None of them noticed the small figure darting around the door and slipping into the hallway.
And slamming right into Therespides, who was struggling behind as always. Gen bit his cheek to keep from making any noise, kicking himself for not checking the perimeter, and took off at a run down the hallway as Therespides said, “Hey…wasn’t that Gen?”
He heard more shouts and laughter behind him, and ignored them in favor of looking for the nearest secret passageway. His grandfather had showed him all of them, and he had memorized them, but there were only one or two he used on a regular basis and trusted in the dark, and neither of them were near the dormitories.
He rounded a corner and discovered another group of cousins coming towards him, lead by one of his least favorite cousins of all, Cleon. He mentally cursed his extended family-a new habit he had acquired from listening to their talk-and tried to backtrack, but one of the girls in the group said loudly, “Why, Eugenides! Don’t tell me you missed the celebration!”
They had surrounded him before he managed to escape, all taller and in varying states of inebriation. “’s probably been sulking in his room,” Chlorus sniggered.
“Broken-hearted, because he knows the son of a thief hasn’t a chance to marry a queen,” Phaedrus said. “Was wittle Gen in wuv?”
Gen made a face. He didn’t want to marry Eddis. That would be gross. He liked her too much for that. Hoping to distract him, he said, “You’re just mad because you can’t find your hunting knives, and…look behind you! A dancing bear!”
Phaedrus frowned, turning his head. “That doesn’t make any-wait, my-hey! Come back here!”
Gen was already running down the hall, which ended at a balcony overlooking the back courtyards of the palace. He looked behind him to see that a couple of cousins were chasing him, and he guessed the others were going to find a better way to get him in trouble. Like finding his parents and asking after his whereabouts.
Making his decision, he hopped on the edge of the balcony, then swung down and clung to its underside. There was a nice piece of wrought iron just big enough for his hands jutting from the bottom. His cousins, although all convinced of his insanity, wouldn’t expect him to jump off the balcony; instead, they’d assume he had run into a room somewhere along the line, and search for him there. He could always climb back up later, once they had gotten bored with trying to find him.
Then he spotted an open window on the floor below the one he was on. There was another balcony down and a little to left of the one he clung to, and he knew he could make the fall to that easily, and he was pretty sure he could catch the windowsill on another jump. And the fact that there was an open window was enough to convince him to try.
He swung a little, then released the iron bar and reached out to grab the edge of the next balcony. The stone bit into his palms, scratching them, but his grip was firm and he pulled himself up and over the edge. He spared a glance for the balcony above-no cousins in sight-then turned his attention to the windowsill, to the left of his current position. It jutted out of the side of the wall, like it was designed for a window seat, which meant it was plenty far out for him to land on, but also that it angled away from him. He sat on the side of the balcony and considered it, legs dangling two stories off the ground. It was closer to the balcony than most windows, which probably meant the rooms were adjacent, which implied a suite, though he couldn’t think of any suites on this end of the palace. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t think of anyone who lived in this section of the palace at all.
Finally, he stood on the edge of the balcony, and jumped again. As soon as he touched the windowsill, he put his hands on it and pushed up, swinging his legs up and around. He landed with a louder thud than he would have liked, but he was on the ledge, and it didn’t appear to be breaking below him. Taking a moment to be well pleased with himself, he went into the room.
His bare feet landed on the soft pillows of the window seat, and then he hopped down to the floor. As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was in someone’s bedroom, and probably a very important someone, judging from the room’s size. There was no fire in the fireplace-it was a summer coronation-but the hearth was huge to compensate for the amount of floor space. The bed itself was big enough for at least five of his cousins together, and there were chairs and a large wardrobe, as well as a desk and two nightstands.
He decided to investigate the nearest nightstand first. He crept over to the bed, stealing a glance at its sleeping figure-under the covers, facing away from him-then slid open the drawer. Empty. Darn. He moved onto the wardrobe, which yielded a locked chest on the inside (and then he realized he’d forgotten his lockpicks), but also a small, unlocked box containing jewelry. Grinning happily, he picked out a pair of sapphire earrings set in silver, pocketing them before shutting the box and the wardrobe, almost forgetting to be stealthy.
One last stop before figuring out where he was. He crept over to the other nightstand. Its drawer was also empty, but atop it was a small velvet case. It snapped open, causing him to wince, but he was much too interested in the contents to care. It appeared to be a gold band, set with rubies, but that would have made it just like Hephestia’s band, and he couldn’t imagine anyone who would be arrogant enough to copy the Great Goddess.
He was still staring at it when a knife pressed against his throat and a sleepy voice said, “What are you doing in my room?”
He dropped the case and fled to the other side of the room. The figure now sitting up in bed made no move to follow, but merely said in clearer tones, “What are you doing in my room?”
“…Cleaning,” he said finally, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Cleaning,” she repeated. Attolian too, from the sound of it. Grandfather had taken him to Attolia a few times, though that had been a few years ago. It was pretty, and there was a pretty girl there, though those were everywhere, and he didn’t like the lack of mountains. “In my room.”
“Yes,” he said with every ounce of conviction he had.
“Late at night. While I’m sleeping.”
“It’s the best time for it,” he answered, forgetting his fear in favor of a cocky answer.
She was silent for a moment, and he glanced to the side, looking for the door. “And of course, that brought you around to my nightstand, where my headband appeared to need an extra polishing?”
“Y-”
“Which of course would involve you taking it away for the polishing, and then perhaps you would forget to return it?”
“N-”
“Of course, I’m still trying to figure out how you came to be in my rooms in the first place,” she continued, her figure bending as she leaned over to pick her headband and its case off the floor. “I would hate to think that there’s so much hatred in Eddis that my guards have already turned on me and allowed an assassin into my rooms.”
“I’m not an assassin,” Gen protested, surprised, trying to think of who was in Eddis and would also be worried about assassination.
“No?” She sounded skeptical.
“I’d never kill anyone,” he said honestly. “I’m just a thief.”
“Is that supposed to reassure me?” she asked, sounding just a little young, too. “Even if they haven’t betrayed me, my guards cannot keep my room clear of a simple thief. What hope do I have against an assassin?”
“Why would anyone want to kill you?” he asked, mentally kicking himself for continuing the conversation when he should have been trying to escape.
She was quiet again, so he moved towards the door. She didn’t appear to notice, saying instead, “Jealousy, I suppose, would be the simplest answer to that question, and a simple thief deserves no more.”
“I’m not simple,” he said, still inching along the wall.
“No, of course not.” She sounded as if she was smiling. “Else you would not have evaded my guards. Please, indulge my curiosity: how did you get in here?”
And even though she was probably mocking him, he liked the sound of her smile. “The window,” he said. “I climbed down from a balcony and jumped onto the windowsill.”
Her head turned to consider the open culprit. “I see. I will take that into consideration, next time I am in Eddis. You won’t want to go out the door.”
He froze, and she continued, “You see, my guard is right outside, and if they caught you they would be forced to bring you before me, and then I would have to exact punishment. I assume you wish to avoid this?”
“Um,” he answered, taken completely aback. She didn’t sound like the thought of punishing people particularly bothered her. “Yes. That would be nice.”
“I assume you can leave the way you came?”
He wasn’t sure he could get back up on the first balcony, but if worse came to worse there was probably another one he could find. “Of course.”
“Then do so.”
“Pardon?” he asked.
“Go, thief. Haven’t you stolen enough of my sleep?”
He remembered the sapphires in his pocket and almost went to return it, but there was a steely note in her voice now and he didn’t dare cross it. “Thank you,” he said, crossing to the window. He spared one more look, but all he could see was the shadowed figure facing him. She waved a hand, and he turned and jumped onto the balcony.
Gen knew better than to protest when Stenides woke him early and told him to get dressed for an audience with the queen. He knew his father would be there, and his mother, and that he was probably in Really Big Trouble for missing the ceremony. He got out of bed and tugged on the dress shirt he’d worn the night before, trying to get the wrinkles out. Stenides rolled his eyes and herded his brother to the wardrobe, supervising his dressing, and then dragging him to the throne room, while Gen dragged his feet, trying to avoid the certain doom that awaited at the end of the dark hallway.
He was surprised to see not only his parents, but his siblings and grandfather there as well. He frowned and looked up at Stenides to ask what was going on, but Temenus hit him on the back of the head to keep him quiet. Stenides shot both of them a look and muttered, “Eddis is presenting her court. Try to keep a civil tongue in your head, Gen, please.”
More ceremony. Great. Gen slid out of his brother’s grasp and went to stand next to his grandfather. The old man looked down at him with a faint smile before straightening as their small unit was called forward.
First, they greeted their queen. It was the first time Gen had seen her sitting on the throne, and he had to admit she did a good job looking regal on her throne, even if the crown was covered by her curly hair, and the color of her gown looked awful on her, and she was too short for the giant throne, and in any case she shouldn’t have been stuck up there anyway. She smiled at him when he came forward and bowed, one of her smiles that couldn’t fail to make anyone happier, and he couldn’t help but smile back, even though he really was upset and not speaking to her.
Eddis turned her head and invited the king and the crown prince of Sounis to step forward. Stuck at the end of the (long) line of family members to be introduced, Gen didn’t say anything, but only looked at the younger man, whose attention was clearly drawn more towards the young queen. Gen frowned a little, because even though he didn’t like Eddis as queen, he would be even more unhappy if she went away. Keeping his opinion to himself, he merely bowed when his name was said. The king looked right past him, but the prince raised an eyebrow at the unusual name, and Gen secretly wished he would say something about it, so he could say something back. His wishes went unfulfilled, and he went to stand next to his grandfather again.
When the queen of Attolia stepped forward, Gen craned his neck to see. He had only been to Attolia once since her coronation-it had only been a few months afterwards, and his grandfather had taken him around the city, but not to the palace, because he thought the situation was too dangerous, which was why they hadn’t gone back. Gen had been disappointed for a few reasons. He’d never managed to get a good look at her, though everyone said she was pretty, but she’d also cut out men's tongues and quartered them and left them hanging from the walls of her city, and so everyone said she was a monster, too. He’d never heard of a beautiful monster, and wanted to know what they looked like.
When he finally caught a glimpse of her, he realized they looked like girls who danced under orange trees.
He blinked, vaguely aware that his mouth was slightly open, but he looked again and there she was. Older than he thought, dressed in more finery, and her expression was entirely more guarded than he remembered, but there was no mistaking that face. He felt himself blushing as she said some platitude to his father, which only made him more confused, because he knew she was a monster but she didn’t look like one, and-
Suddenly he heard her voice, and his eyes moved past her face to see the gold headband holding back her dark hair. His fingers went into his pocket and closed around the earrings still hiding there. Monsters weren’t afraid of assassination. And they didn’t smile, or let thieves go when they caught them.
“…my son, Eugenides,” his father said, and belatedly Gen stepped forward and bowed, at once disappointed and relieved to stop looking at her.
“That’s your grandfather’s name, isn’t it?” she asked, and her flat voice was so opposite to how she’d spoken to him that he looked up and dared to answer.
“Yes, Your Majesty. He’s training me to be a thief, as well.”
Ignoring his father’s dark looks, he stared at her, hoping she understood. One of her eyebrows rose as she considered him, and with a hint of warning in her voice, she said, “A thief?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied, relieved that she understood, but a little confused by her hostility.
She nodded once, and for a moment he hoped he saw a hint of a smile in her eyes-he knew she had a pretty smile-but her attention had moved on, and deflated, he fell back into line.
That night he didn’t listen to the gossip going back and forth in the dormitory, about who had insulted the new queen, or who had seen real fangs sprouting from their neighboring monarchs’ gums (“No more unwatered wine for you, Tenris!”). He lay in bed with his arms crossed behind his head and stared at the ceiling, plotting how to convince his grandfather to take him back to Attolia. Because he was going to go back, now. He had to.
He had to make her smile again.