Page 13 of Stranger's Choice
After his frustratingconversation with Auraelie, Sebin decided not to risk talking with the oracle again. If she couldn’t even trust him to reach for a door handle instead of mauling her, she would never trust him enough to help him. Not enough to justify the possible exposure of his mastery of Imperial, at least. Any conversation he had in the language was a risk, even in his own room.
It stung that she believed he would ignore her lack of consent, even after he had assured her repeatedly that he would not touch her. He didn’t know if she feared all men that way, or only him. Based on some of her interactions with Tjalik—the two were not as careful to maintain their polite masks when he was the only one who could see them—Sebin suspected she only feared him. He didn’t believe it was because she thought a stranger wouldn’t respect imperial customs. There was something else going on.
Perhaps, if he could figure out why the Emperor had assigned Auraelie to serve him, he could figure out what had her so scared. Sebin rarely spoke with the Emperor, though. He’d be more frustrated if he actually wanted to establish diplomatic relations and negotiate a trade treaty. Sebin had used those goals as an excuse to leave Moial before his father tried to marry him off, but he didn’t anticipate success.
The journey to Pynth took too long for anything but the most superficial diplomatic ties to prove useful. The empire also produced its own fine textiles and staple crops and did not need to import such pedestrian goods from across the Mladin. There was a reason Sebin had needed to travel on a Lhanaperan vessel to come here. The Lhanaperans had goods the people of Pynth were actually interested in buying.
Sebin wasn’t one to sit idly, though. He would establish himself in the imperial capital and see what he could accomplish. He’d visit the strongholds of the magical races of Pynth, too. The humans here might have an emperor, but they were not the biggest power on the continent. Maybe the oracles desperately wanted imported cotton.
The oracles. Yes, Sebin needed to visit them. Back home, humans had wiped out the few oracles centuries ago. His ancestors had feared the magical race with the ability to see the future, and that fear led to genocide. Then time passed, the fear was forgotten, but the awe remained. Establishing relations with the oracles would appease Sebin’s father, even if a trade deal with the Emperor failed.
Of course, Sebin was more interested in seeing what he could learn about Auraelie and her position in the imperial court. Visiting the oracles would have to wait, though. He did not want to work through an interpreter for that visit, and it would be weeks yet before Sebin “learned” enough of the imperial tongue to travel alone without raising suspicion.
Until then, he would continue mingling with the wealthy and powerful of the human court. Apart from the Emperor, there were no ranks, as Sebin thought of them, at court. There was only wealth and power. The two went hand-in-hand. The rich had power by nature of their wealth. The powerful were rich because of their influence. If you lost one, you lost the other, and it did not matter who your parents were, or how long your family had hobnobbed with the imperial family, you were gone from court.
The court was not about governing the empire; it was about proving your wealth and furthering your influence. Sebin’s father, King Duirden, would have fit right in. He preferred flaunting his riches to ruling his kingdom. Sebin preferred actually making decisions and steering the country toward improvements. He knew how to socialize and fit in with the idle rich, but he did it with other goals in mind.
“Tjalik,” he whispered to his interpreter, not that anyone besides Auraelie would hear him, and she wouldn’t understand anything beyond the man’s name. “Who is the man over by the wall, dressed in brown and green?”
Sebin’s interpreter often could not name people, since he was not a member of the court, and would have no access to it if he were not working for Sebin. When he knew a person’s identity, it meant they had a presence beyond the Emperor’s court.
“That is Heolin, the representative from the magical races at court.”
From the corner of his eye, Sebin saw Auraelie twitch and look over when the interpreter said Heolin’s name.
“What race?” he asked Tjalik.
“Earth sprite.”
Sebin hadn’t realized the magical races had a representative in the imperial court. He thought Auraelie more or less fulfilled that position. Then again, she was the Emperor’s Will: a servant, though a highly placed one. He found it intriguing that an earth sprite represented all the magical races.
The humans of Pynth spoke of the oracles with the same mix of fear and awe as people in Moial would, though oracles were more of a myth back home. During his journey up from the harbor to Kalitalo, Sebin had heard them speak of other races with more familiarity and respect. Or maybe friendliness was the correct word. Earth or wood sprites had come up in most of the conversations Sebin had with villagers about the prosperity of their villages.
Sebin made his way over to the earth sprite, Tjalik a step behind him on one side, Auraelie on the other.
“Good afternoon,” Sebin greeted the sprite in Imperial. He had begun to use a few rudimentary phrases in the past few days. He figured it was reasonable at this point to know greetings and a couple of phrases about weather and food. The hardest part was judging how much he should understand of the replies.
“Good afternoon, Prince Sebin.” The earth sprite looked past him. “Auraelie, how have you been of late?”
Sebin turned his head enough to see the warm look Auraelie gave the sprite. The ever-present bit of black silk obscured her mouth, but her smile reached her eyes. “I am doing well, Heolin. How are you?”
Sebin spared a glance for his translator. Tjalik was clearly unsure how to handle this—never before had someone addressed Auraelie over Sebin. The members of the imperial court didn’t even speak directly to Tjalik. They always focused solely on Sebin and pretended the delays in the conversation while Tjalik translated weren’t there. They pretended Auraelie didn’t exist even more assiduously.
Sebin caught Tjalik’s eye and gave a slight shake of his head. They would do and say nothing while Heolin and Auraelie spoke.
The conversation did not last much longer, however.
Heolin shrugged. “Missing home, as usual. The earth in Kalitalo leaves something to be desired. I look forward to feeling healthy soil beneath my feet again.”
Auraelie said nothing more, and the sprite turned his attention back to Sebin. “I am Heolin, earth sprite and representative ofallof Pynth’s magical races here in Kalitalo.”
Tjalik translated the words verbatim. Sebin had convinced him to use the translation times to offer insights and advice, but the oddity of this conversation must have thrown him off. A shame, because Sebin would have appreciated some sort of commentary on what it meant that Heolin had ignored him to talk to Auraelie. Or why he had emphasized the word all when describing his role.
“An honor to meet you, Heolin,” Sebin said in Imperial before switching back to Continental. “I hope we can find many opportunities to talk while I am at court. The relationship between the magical races and the humans in Pynth inspires me. I wish we were so well integrated in Moial.”
Heolin glanced again at Auraelie when Tjalik translated Sebin’s words. Then he shrugged. “The magical races are more prevalent in these lands than yours, from what I understand.”
“Indeed. So I would value your advice on how to integrate our peoples more effectively.”
