Page 18 of Stranger's Choice
“That explains the ridiculous things people call me. I suppose they wish to flatter me. Should I assume those who just call medyelaare less in awe of my rank?” It hadn’t escaped his notice that Auraelie had not even addressed him with that title since that afternoon. He hoped the lack was more a sign of comfort in his presence than disrespect.
“No, they are less creative. Being calleddyela,ormehtafor those of lesser rank, is still a sign of respect.”
“What about the Emperor’s Will? They don’t get the flowery titles, but are they also not named as a show of respect?”
She shook her head. “I think it is more because people do not care who we are as individuals. All that matters is our connection to the Emperor.”
Sebin didn’t even try to hide his disgust at that sentiment. Now wasn’t the time, though. “You were saying about Lhashiki?”
Auraelie paused a moment, then shook herself. “She wears the sheer veil and bodice, but the only situations in which she is available are very specific and limited. At any other time, to touch her would be to court the Emperor’s wrath.”
“The Emperor’s wrath, not hers.” Sebin didn’t make it a question.
“Exactly. The Emperor’s Will do not decide themselves. The Emperor decides if his servants are available to specific people, in specific situations, or not to be touched. Our current Emperor likes to think of himself as generous, and so most of the women of his Will wear the bodice—though they are available in varying situations—and all the men wear only the vest.”
“There are only two options for men, though, correct? Vest over the shirt or vest with no shirt?” Sebin was confused. He had gotten the impression from Tjalik that even if he wanted to take a lover—which he didn’t—he should wear a shirt under his vest. That had suited Sebin just fine. The loose clothes of Pynth were cool and comfortable, but he was still struggling with feeling underdressed half the time. He wasn’t sure he could walk around wearing a vest open over his bare chest without feeling self-conscious. “Do they not have the equivalent of veil with tunic?”
Auraelie shook her head once more. “Men do not have the equivalent of the dark veil. Men do not declare if they are interested in seeking a lover or not, only if they are interested in specific people or situations.”
“Right.” Different rules for men and women in Pynth as well as Moial. “So most of the Emperor’s Will are available under specific circumstances. Most, but not all.”
“Yes. There are a few of his Will who wear the light veil with a tunic. These women are considered special. A privilege. When the Emperor wishes to reward someone, he might send one of these women to attend him, and then the man knows that he has been chosen as one of the woman’s few lovers.”
Sebin opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. He had to be misunderstanding where this was going. Even with suspicions building in the back of his mind all evening, he still couldn’t believe it. “You weren’t wearing the light veil when the Emperor assigned you to attend me.”
“No. I have retained my dark veil because to let a man touch me is to risk my very life. Until now.”
“You said it is a reward.” Sebin grasped for a different meaning to her words. “The Emperor has no reason to reward me.”
“I am not one of the graceful women trained in the arts of pleasure that he uses as a reward. I am an oracle. If I did not go into convulsions when touched, and if there was no risk that I might die if touched for longer, then I would be dressed in the sheer veil and bodice and made available at every opportunity.”
“Why?” Sebin stood up. This conversation didn’t feel right while lounging on cushions. It didn’t feel right at all, but at least pacing, he could burn off some of the energy. “Why treat you that way just because you are an oracle?”
Auraelie blinked. “The Emperor wants to control the powers of the oracles, don’t all humans?”
“What does that have to do with having you raped? Does he want to break you?”
She stood up. “He wants my children. A child with half oracle bloodlines can still have amazing powers, and the Emperor would have the right to raise them from infancy to be his tools. Just like his father did with Qilar.”
Sebin stopped pacing. He focused on not running out of the room to track down the Emperor and thrash him. He wouldn’t succeed. “Who is Qilar?” he asked slowly, reminding himself that his strength was managing things from behind the scenes, not physical altercations.
“The Emperor’s bodyguard. Qilar is the son of the last Emperor and his oracle. The imperial bloodline, like most human ones, distorts magic. Qilar is not a true oracle—even one with weaker powers—but he still has a sixth sense for danger. He can sense critical moments.”
The short explanation gave Sebin enough time to pull himself together. To start thinking, planning, instead of reacting. Before he decided if he wanted to throw in his lot with Tjalik’s rebels and help overthrow a bastard of an emperor, he needed to make sure he had all the facts. The more time he spent in Kalitalo, the more he wanted to support Tjalik, though.
Sebin blew out a breath. “I’d like to make sure I am understanding everything clearly.”
Auraelie just looked at him.
“As a member of the Emperor’s Will, you have no say in choosing your own lovers.”
She nodded.
“Until today, you were safe because the Emperor feared you might die if someone tried to have sex with you.”
She nodded again.
“Now that he knows I can touch you, he is giving you to me, in the hope that I will get you pregnant so that he can raise our half-oracle baby as one of his fanatical servants.”
