by Lady Bast
"Prince Trowa! I'm so glad that you have come."
Trowa smiled as Relena offered a slight bow, greeting him even before her husband. His grin widened as he heard Heero's faint snort of amusement from behind him. He returned the bow with a slight inclination of his own. "Mistress of the House, you honour me too much."
Graceful eyebrows arched in question though the eyes beneath them were curiously knowing. "That name might be better suited to someone else,[47]" she said cryptically, gesturing toward the chairs. They sat, with Seb and Tetiun on cushions at their feet, and Miusheri served them all a light beer and fruit.
"I don't see Bakara," said Trowa. "Has Hilde taken her out? Is she through with her grieving?"
Again Relena offered him a knowing look. "True grief never really dies, it merely loses its edge. Thankfully, that is not an affliction from which Bakara's nurse must suffer. They are in their chamber. Bakara is resting."
"Hilde, too, I should think."
"Oh, I certainly hope not. If she does, she'll be full of energy later and not even Ast's blessed magic will be able to protect us." Relena rolled her eyes dramatically.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
Relena looked to her husband. "Shall we have the meal brought into Hilde's room, brother?"
"I hardly think that's proper." Heero's reply was stiff and formal, so much so that it had become a parody of noble arrogance.
"Improper, yes, but it is the furthest away from the hallway and from prying ears."
"Too true. Seb, help Miusheri carry the food into the back. Relena and I will escort our guest."
Though puzzled, Trowa rose when Heero gestured for him to do so and, after directing Tetiun to help the others, followed him into the back room.
He thought he detected the faintest whisper of womanly laughter, but the room was still in the heavy, golden light of the afternoon. It seemed the only pleasant thing about the place. The tiny chamber had a feeling of clutter and claustrophobia about it despite the fact that it contained few furnishings. The wall paintings were pleasant enough - free from parental restraint, children frolicked in ponds and chased geese through courtyards - but they did not make the room as airy as they should have. A low table draped in linen lined one wall - such draperies were unusual, but Trowa supposed it would protect the child from the surface of the table - and a pair of chests huddled in one of the corners. In the middle of the room, just beside the table, Hilde curled beneath a light sheet on her pallet. Next to her, in a little box bed, Bakara snuffled and whined in her sleep.
This, Trowa supposed, was what bothered him. Why, with such little space to move around, would a servant place her bed in the middle of the room? Certainly there was space enough beneath the window where cool breezes might blow in on warm nights, and it would certainly free up the floor. Perhaps she was afraid of Bakara catching a chill, or perhaps Hilde simply did not like sleeping near windows. It was a vulnerable place, open to the outside world...
"Enough pretending," said Relena, scolding playfully. "There are no guards here; it's only Prince Trowa."
"Only," chuckled Heero. "Do you long for the days when you were still news in the marketplace?"
Trowa did not answer him, but merely watched as Hilde went through the motions of someone being awakened from a deep sleep. She seemed to peer at him from the corners of her eyes as though reassuring herself that Relena was speaking the truth and that it was not a trick brought on by a mistress under duress. She stretched and ran fingers lightly through her disheveled hair.
Relena smiled and clapped her hands briskly. "Get up! Get up! You're fooling no one with kohl smeared all over your face. You could at least have the decency to wash away your make-up. Maybe Prince Quatre is right and I'm far too lenient with you."
Certain of her safety, Hilde's eyes snapped open and she no longer looked sleepy. She smiled at Trowa as she sat up and pulled herself close to Bakara's bed. "She's right, you know. I'm quite spoiled," said, reaching out to flip up the edge of the linen she had draped over the table. On cue, Duo rolled out from his hiding place, onto the pallet, and sat up.
"Hello, Trowa," he grinned sheepishly. "Did you miss me?"
Despite the braid that still held most of his hair in place, the priest looked no less disheveled than Hilde and Trowa decided that he had a pretty fair idea of the type of grieving in which the nursemaid had been involved. He couldn't help smiling as the feisty young woman slapped Duo's arm playfully. "You've barely been gone a day! Not everyone will be pining for you!"
"Only you."
"Impossible!" huffed Hilde, catching Duo's braid to drag him close enough to kiss on the cheek. It was the boldest move Trowa had ever witnessed by a woman and he felt a warmth creep up his neck to colour his cheeks.
"I'm glad I have a separate room too," said Heero.
Relena clapped her hands briskly though her eyes twinkled with amusement. "Enough, now...enough. We're here to decide what must be done, and...why do I bother speaking?"
Trowa had time to see Heero shrug in his wife's direction before Duo's arms were around him. A rush of emotion - not only embarrassment, but a profound sense of relief - flooded his heart and he could not help returning the embrace. The priest felt thinner than he looked. Surely Duo had always been slim, but now bone pressed into the palm of Trowa's hands with little more than a thin barrier of flesh to protect it.
"It's good to see you!" grinned Duo, pulling away. "I was afraid you might have been blamed for my little indiscretions. Tetiun!"
Unable to offer more than a wan smile, Trowa stepped aside and let his servant have a moment with his former master. They embraced like brothers and Trowa supposed it was not surprising if Tetiun had really done all that he had claimed to help Duo in his cause. "I was afraid you had been killed or exiled," said Tetiun, voice trembling.
Duo's good humour seemed to drain away as he released Tetiun. His smile remained, but it had been subdued by the set of his jaw. "I am in exile," he said. "The Prince commanded me to leave the city before sundown, but I was too weak. I had been trying..." For a moment, he seemed genuinely regretful and stared at his empty hands as though he had lost something precious. "I had been trying to get well - making no poisons and taking no drugs or medicines - but to suddenly stop was hard on my body and I no longer have the time for it to recover properly."
"So you're taking your medicine again?" said Trowa.
Duo lowered his eyes sheepishly. "Yes. A little. Khemti-nub stole some from my chambers for me. She's saved me more than once. I owe her much."
"Duo collapsed in the hall," explained Heero. "She overheard him say Hilde's name and came to find her. We brought him back here and hid him from the guards. I don't think they would report him unless it put themselves or their families in danger, but it's better if they never have to make that decision."
"And I agree. It's a miracle I didn't get their families killed."
Duo's fierce reply made Trowa pause. The sheepishness, he realized, was not embarrassment for his own predicament, as humbling as it might be. The priest's shame was in nearly harming those he sought to help. There was a dark humour in the thought of an assassin so concerned for the lives of others, but Trowa did not laugh. He could not help but feel that one who took lives knew their value better than most and that such duality was a dangerous strain on its possessor.
Pushing these thoughts to the rear of his mind, Trowa spoke. "The Prince doesn't blame his servants and will not punish their families, but he no longer trusts them either. He's tightening his hold over them in any way he can."
"Relena told me a little about Wufei, but you know how reserved he is," said Duo.
Relena nodded. "He tried to make me feel comfortable and at home, but wouldn't tell me anything. I didn't want to mention your name and it took me most of the afternoon to make him admit that he was being confined to the garden during the day."
"The soldiers fear less," said Heero. "They don't mind voicing their discontent although they keep their complaints very general. I suppose that some disgruntlement is tolerated among the soldiers."
"I know a little more from Wufei although I refuse to share anything told to me in strict confidence," said Trowa after a moment's thought.
"We ask only for information that might help our current situation," said Heero. "The palace complex is like a dam. If the pressure is allowed to build, it will burst and flood the whole of the city, perhaps even the nome."
"Riots would be the least of our troubles," said Duo.
"If you want to discuss it, sit down and discuss it like civilized people," said Relena, mildly exasperated. "We've had all of this food brought in, we should make good use of it."
They did not speak at once of the city's troubles, but ate in pleasant conversation, discussing the past few days. Trowa found it quite incredible that so much could have occurred. Duo's secret affection had blossomed and he spoke of the possibility of marriage once Heero's household had left Nekheb. He was cheerful and optimistic, treating his exile as a mere inconvenience, though Trowa could see a deep sadness in his eyes. For all his joyful plans, he was in mourning. It mattered not that the Prince was not dead, the friendship had been lost. Made sickly and weak, it had faded away and left him bereft. Hilde seemed to sense this for Bakara, newly awakened, found her way into the priest's lap more than once and she distracted him with accidental touches, a brush of the hand conveying deep affection. In her eyes was a hint of resignation, brought about, no doubt, by Duo's failing health. She had seen it before, Trowa realized, and was prepared to face it.
Relena told them all about her work in the garden and how wonderful Wufei's suggestions had been. He was quite capable and clear-minded, she said, and it was a shame that he was not better rewarded for his family's years of skillful service. "I think he would handle any estate fairly and profitably. A vineyard, even, with a small, but able staff would flourish under his direction."
She also spoke of her plans as the Mistress of the House. "I think there should be a small feast at once for the nobility," she said. "This will assure them that they are the first to see the garden rebuilt. The first time for many of them to have seen the garden at all. All of the Prince's sisters should be invited, of course, though whether they will choose to attend is another matter. I have the impression that many of the husbands dislike our Prince."
"Some do," agreed Duo," as do some of his own sisters. Some have merely been offended by him. Proper compensation could probably satisfy anyone whose feathers have been ruffled and they will come if their wives insist. There will be tension though..."
"I'm hoping the lesser nobility will provide enough distraction," said Relena. "There should be enough guests that no one need speak to anyone they do not like."
"The tension might also be lessened if the princesses choose to bring servants who have family in the palace," said Heero. "I know from Rashid that many of the wives and even some of the children have worked hard to put themselves in positions of favour in order to gain more trust and freedom. Prince Quatre will not be able to refuse if his sisters demand the presence of their personal servants. "
"We step too close to the issue we are trying to avoid," said Relena. "Please, for the duration of the meal, let's talk of pleasant things."
"Since Trowa is the filthy foreigner, let him tell us about his home," grinned Duo.
Trowa couldn't help smiling. "I'm the filthy foreigner? Relena comes from across the Great Green as well."
"She's married to a son of Kemet and no longer qualifies."
"Are you calling my wife filthy?" said Heero at approximately the same time. Hilde laughed and Relena tried to affect a stern look.
"Well, I suppose I could tell you a little about my family, if I won't be boring the servants," replied Trowa, ignoring Heero's accusation. He felt, rather than heard, Tetiun creep over to sit between and slightly behind, himself and Duo. Hilde and Miusheri both seemed immediately interested. Seb became alert, but eyed him suspiciously. No doubt a new culture would bring with it new dangers to be feared and superstitions to be observed.
Slightly taken aback by this level of interest in his home, Trowa hesitated until Duo reached over to prod his shoulder. "On with it, Trowa. If you're waiting for us to treat you as a foreign ambassador, you're too late. You've already become a friend. Naturally we are all curious about our friends."
"If you insist, but you may regret your curiosity," smiled Trowa. "Anyway, I'm not a storyteller...I don't know where to start."
"At the beginning," replied Heero with rare humour, "or with your family. Family is always a good place to start."
"I know you have a sister," said Relena. "What is she like?"
"Kateren is a strong women and insists on going out with our scouts. If she had been a lesser noble or if our mother had not died of fever, she would have been better restrained. I am happy she is as free as she is. She is every bit as adventurous as a brother and I have none of these."
Loneliness touched him as Trowa shared his memories of home, but his audience was attentive and never asked more of him than he wished to give. He soon found himself repeating legends and stories of the gods told to him by his uncle. Many of these were of some similarity to those Relena had been told by her brother. The young man had been educated as befitted a rich merchant's son and felt no shame in sharing this wisdom with any woman he deemed intelligent enough to understand it. He had not missed his mark with Relena. She and Trowa were slowly building a shared mythical account of the great war of Troy when Duo laughed.
"Your gods seem terribly meddlesome!"
"And yours are not?"
"With one another, for certain, but not so much with mortals. There are meddlesome priests and magicians..."
Heero flicked a grape in the priest's direction. 'Like you."
"Like me," agreed Duo without shame "...who can appeal to the gods on behalf of another and individuals can ask for favours through appropriate rituals, but they don't become involved on their own. Gifts might sway them and insults enrage them, but they're too busy with their own affairs to think of us otherwise."
Trowa contemplated the contents of his wine cup, then sipped at them thoughtfully. "I thought you said your gods were all around us."
"They are. They're forces of nature and are always at work around us. That is part of my point," said Duo. "They have their set patterns, their own ways, and they won't change these ways unless we mortals approach them first. Trying too hard to change the minds of the gods can be dangerous. Bend the course of nature one too many times and someone will be offended, bringing attention you might not want, but once in a while you can improve the lives of others by changing the nature of the god. That's the main reason we require so many rituals before starting a new building project and hold many festivals in honour of Hapi and the many facets of the river. We depend on its flooding and receding to bring us food, but we also shape it with irrigation, dams, and channels. If any of these were to fail..." Duo spread his hands and shrugged. "It's always better to take precautions."
"We'll need to take precautions ourselves," said Heero. "We'll be trying to change a god as well."
Duo sighed. "Quatre is not a god."
"He thinks he is, and that makes him just as dangerous."
"He knows he's mortal."
"Duo's right," said Trowa. "He knows he's mortal. If he didn't, he wouldn't let fear rule him this way."
Heero snorted. "Mortal or not, a blessing never hurt." He eyed Duo expectantly.
Raising his hands, Duo shook his head. "Not my blessing. You want a peaceful change of attitude, not a bloody riot."
"Do we?" The room grew silent and all eyes turned to Heero. "Maybe a peaceful change won't be fast enough. Then we really will have a bloody riot on our hands. What if what we need is an assassination?"
"No."
"Duo, I know how you feel..."
"NO!"
Duo's hand hit the table with greater force than Trowa had expected, given his weakened condition. Cups rattled and he thought he could hear the faint sound of cracking wood. "No," Duo repeated calmly. "You aren't looking at the greater structure. If you have a perfectly balanced roof and a single pillar is weak, would you bolster it or tear it down? Tear it down and the whole roof will be on your head. The truth of the matter is that Quatre is not a bad Prince. He manages the nome very well. Go down into the markets and speak to the people. Few of them have ever even dealt with him personally and those that have, only through councils. Ask them what they think of him and they will tell you that, while he demands prompt tax payments, he never overcharges. They will tell you that he is fair in judgment. They will tell you that he has spent a good deal of money to improve public places and increase the city's reputation for good commerce and ship building. No complaint will come without its share of praise. To the common citizen, Quatre may be demanding, but he gives as fairly as he is given. There are few - if any - among those who would replace him who could treat the city as fairly. The trouble is in the way he treats those he sees every day. He thinks that they look at him with suspicion and so he treats them with suspicion. No one can live for long under the strain of being thought of as a criminal, not even Quatre."
"Very well," said Heero after a moment's silence. "I'll accept that as a reason to forego assassination, but do we even know if he can be redeemed?"
"I thought he could be shamed into seeing the mistakes he's made, but I failed to touch his heart," said Duo quietly. "Either my guess or my method was wrong."
Trowa though of the Prince's lonely eyes and drew a deep breath. "I think he can change," he said. "I think he might want to change, but his fear is very strong. I think the reason Duo did not succeed is because he was a friend. Instead of learning to deal with his own fear, the Prince used him as a shield. He wouldn't have taken Duo's efforts seriously because he never thought that Duo would abandon him. He's more afraid than ever now, but he's also vulnerable. I'm not sure what will change his mind, but I think it can be done."
"Perhaps, but my first responsibility is to you, Trowa. I am neither the Prince's man nor a citizen of Nekheb. I should report this to my superior and have Ramesses - may he live forever - remove you to some place safe. We might not want a bloody riot, but there's no guarantee that we won't get one anyway."
"How will we manage then?" said Relena, grabbing her husband's arm. "If Trowa leaves, so must we. Duo as well; there will be no other way for him to escape the city."
"I'll come back," said Heero firmly. "I've made friends here and won't abandon them, but my duty comes first."
"There's no need to discuss it, I'm not going anywhere." Heero glared at Trowa, but the foreign prince merely raised his hand. "If anything out of the ordinary happens, the Prince will panic. Unless we have no other choice, reporting him is the worst thing you can do. What we need to do is create a stable environment where small changes can go unnoticed. The Prince still meets with me and talks with me. Now that Duo is out of his reach, he might become more relaxed around me. I am no threat - the merest hint of aggression could launch an attacks against my family - and I am not a citizen of Nekheb. I have not been here long enough to be a part of his troubles, but I have been here long enough to have become familiar. Besides..."
Trowa paused, mouth open, his guts clenched in horror. Beside him, Duo stiffened, indicating that he knew what direction Trowa's thoughts had taken.
Besides, if things get too difficult, I am the only person who can offer him comfort. I am the only male here who will bed another man.
"Besides, if things get too difficult, I can distract him with politics." The recovery was poor, but Trowa willed himself to make it seem as natural as possible.
"Point taken," said Heero, giving no indication that he had noticed Trowa's hesitation. "Even so, you can't expect me to put your theories before my duty."
"No, but I can ask. As a friend."
"I agree with Trowa," said Relena. "Things should remain as stable as possible. I wouldn't ask him to put himself in danger, but if he wishes to stay and try his hand, who are we to argue?"
Heero brooded in silence, then came to a decision. "Fine," he said. "We'll leave things as they are for now, but as soon as I think Trowa's life might be in danger, I'm removing him from the city and sending in my report. I don't need to be responsible for a loss of diplomatic relations and Trowa can't help anyone if he's dead."
"I can agree to that," said Trowa.
"And me?"
All heads turned to look at Duo who sat, unusually calm, holding Bakara in his lap. The infant babbled happily, pulling on his braid as she tried to fit it into her mouth, but he did not wince or look away from his audience. The quiet tone and manner made him seem unusually frail and Hilde instinctively reached to take the child away from him, clucking as she worked the braid free of tiny, clutching hands. The ghost of a smile crossed Duo's face. "You're afraid I'll drop her."
"I'm afraid she'll wet you," replied Hilde without looking up.
"I have nowhere to go."
"You can't leave to bathe or use the showers either."
Duo frowned. "This is true and part of the problem. I can't leave and I'm a danger to everyone the longer I stay."
"No nonsense," scolded Relena. "You can't leave the city in your condition. By now, everyone in the market will know that you're in exile. You have no hope of slipping by them all unnoticed and if someone does see you, you'll be too ill to run."
"This is true," said Heero, "but what Duo says is also true. I don't want my family in danger if there is no reason for it." He turned to Duo. "Is there a way to hide you that won't put my family or someone else's under suspicion?"
"What I should do is leave the city as soon as possible," said Duo ruefully, "but I'm curious to see this play out."
Heero glared at him. "Don't mock your condition. Even without your curiosity, you wouldn't have the strength to get to Kom Ombo."
"Not alone, but I know people who could help smuggle me out if need be. It would take some time, but there's a place beyond the city where I've sometimes conducted rituals. I could hide there."
Hilde's brow furrowed with concern. "Are you sure it's safe?"
"No one's found me yet and it's very good shelter. I've put a few stores out there and treated the walls with poisons and mongoose fat to keep away snakes and insects," replied Duo with obvious pride. "I use it when I'm out gathering and plan to stay the night."
Duo's resourcefulness had fully captured the attention of his audience and they all jumped in surprise when Heero interrupted with a firm command. "No," he said, loudly enough to stun them all into silence. "How many stores do you think you can keep out there on the desert? Dried fruit will last for days, but how much water do you have? Will you haul it yourself?"
The priest paused. It was clear by the look in his eye that he had planned to do just that. He began to speak, but Hilde interrupted him. "There must be a way to have food and water brought there."
"Out into the desert? For what purpose? There's a greater risk of him being discovered if mysterious bundles of supplies are being sent out regularly."
"Someone can be paid from the market," said Duo, determination drawing his mouth into a thin line. "Quatre won't punish a market boy who has no knowledge of his pronouncements. If I'm found, then only I will take the blame."
"You will stay here," repeated Heero in his most commanding tone of voice. The sound, combined with a steely glare, held the power to bring soldiers under its power. It fared no differently against a priest. "No one will be suspicious of servants bringing food, drink, and wash water to the apartment of a noble woman and her servants. It isn't an ideal solution, but it's the best we have until you regain some of your strength. Then, if you still want to return to Kom Ombo, I'll help you find a way out of the city. I'm sure there are plenty of merchant boats travelling towards Kush."
Cowed, Duo only nodded. Relena set her jaw and did the same. They were determined to make the plan work. Trowa decided he could do no less. Rising, he bowed to his hostess. "I thank you for inviting me, Lady, but the Prince is expecting me."
"Well, I wish you the best of luck," she replied, wrapping her arms around him in a light embrace.
"Send him our grudging forgiveness for putting us under guard," said Heero, clasping his arm. "I don't want him to think I've forgotten the indignity, but to hold a grudge will only make him defensive."
He moved to clasp Duo's arm as well, but the young man hugged him tightly. "Thank you for your help," he said clearly, but as he pulled away, a whisper caught Trowa's ear: "Take care of him."
Trowa said nothing, but took his leave of Hilde, Miusheri, and Seb before signaling to Tetiun to follow him. Heero escorted him to the door and refreshed the memory of his guards with descriptions of the kind of punishment that would befall them if anything should happen to the Prince's guest. Trowa could tell by their pale and wary appearance that the guards did not need any reminders.
"I hope the Prince won't take you on another tour of the temples," said Tetiun somewhat peevishly as they walked down the hall. "I hate waiting in the courtyards."
Trowa chuckled. "I know you would have rather seen to it that Duo was as well as he claimed..."
"I meant no disrespect, Master."
"I'm not offended. I would have let you stay, but I have a feeling that the tension will be unbearable for some time yet and I want as many trustworthy people as I can find by my side."
Tetiun preened. "Do you really feel that way?"
"Of course. Are you suggesting my trust would be better placed elsewhere?"
"No no!" The body servant seemed momentarily horrified, but relaxed when he realized he was being teased. "No, that isn't what I meant at all. What you say is true, there will be danger, and...it feels good to be trusted."
"Comrades in arms then," said Trowa with a smile. "Let's hope neither of us have to test our resolve."
"Let's hope," repeated Tetiun. "You know, the Prince would probably be more inclined to listen if you let me..."
"If you're planning to put a knife to any part of my body, from the hair on my head, to the soles of my feet, I will have you hung by your ankles from the nearest window."
"At least let me henna your nails."
"No."
"You know," the servant sulked, "I hope I'm never chosen to follow a diplomat to your country. I don't think I'd like it much across the Great Green."
Trowa could only laugh.
Quatre's entourage was reaching frightening proportions. A single session of listening to the whispered laments of Anpu-nakht was enough to convince Trowa that the Prince was very close to insanity, if he had not crossed that line already. Het-Hori played the good servant and remained quiet, but his faced seemed troubled. Wufei remained quiet, but he had already spent the afternoon in Trowa's company and no doubt wanted to present the face of a model servant to the world at large. The guards were nervous and spoke in low voices amongst themselves without a single argument about territory and authority, an uncommon event among soldiers of different companies. It was best, Trowa decided, if the Prince did not know what happened in the temple courtyards while he was performing the evening devotions. If he did, the servants might be chained to him for added protection.
As far as Trowa was concerned, this was the ideal position for someone to put a knife in his back.
Of course, such an attack need not be fatal. It could simply serve as a warning. This was Trowa's intent as he allowed himself to become a trustworthy receptacle for the woes of the palace. He was not sure what part of his nature announced to the world in general that he was a good listener, but he used this trait to his advantage, gathering information even as he tried to council patience. By the time the Prince emerged from the inner sanctum, he had a much better understanding of Quatre pale face and bruised eyes. Nightmares and nerves had taken their toll.
They returned to the palace surrounded by an oppressive silence that Trowa fought to break. He could not think of a suitable topic for conversation. There was nothing he could speak of that would not dwell on the events of the past few days. The moon above was a sharpened blade, hard-edged and full of malice. He could see no face there now.
"Tell me about Amun," said Trowa.
"I don't want to talk about priestly things today, Prince Trowa," said Quatre sharply. "I have had quite enough with my visits to the temples."
"I only ask because you've never told me about him, despite seeming proud to have been taught in his temple."
"Well, I won't be telling you tonight. You sound like Duo."
Trowa smiled to himself. It was the word he had been waiting for. Taboo from his own lips, once the Prince had spoken it, it became a topic open for discussion. "Well," he said, "perhaps someone should."
Quatre stiffened and his manner grew cold. "Duo was exiled, as you know. Are you wishing for the same? To be sent even further up the river? Into Kush, perhaps?"
Trowa laughed, a reaction that seemed to shock the Prince whose wide-eyed expression only generated more laughter. Quatre might make himself sound quite arrogant, but Trowa knew he could do nothing without the Pharaoh's approval and there was no proof of misconduct or threatening behaviour. "From what I hear," he said, as the laughter subsided, "Duo was exiled for something he did, not something he said. I have spoken with him on many occasions and found him to be very intelligent and perceptive. True?"
"Yes," replied Quatre reluctantly.
"And have I been here long enough to collect the number of contacts he must have had in his little web of messengers?"
"No, but..."
Trowa raised a hand. "Think of it? How could I betray you? Any action against you is a threat to my people and I can't smuggle information out of the palace when your own guards are unable to send letters to the surrounding estates. I suppose I could slip away, but where would I go? I don't know how to survive on my own in your country and everyone will know me for who I am - a foreigner, if not a prince. Look, I only mean that Duo served as a counterpoint to the day's events. Someone with enough position and power that you could talk at the end of the day. Someone who might be able to look at things from a different point of view and give you a wider range of vision in any situation." Trowa made sure to emphasize this point and widened his smile when a spark of interest lit Quatre's eye. "Duo was from outside of the city, as am I. I'm sure I could offer advice if only in the mildest of forms. Our ranks are similar, there will be no loss of pride."
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Trowa did not prod any more at the problem, but face straight ahead, watching the Prince cautiously from the corner of his eye. Quatre seemed to waver in his decisions, though his face remained nearly impassive. One moment his eyes seemed hopeful and full of light, the next his brow knit in anger. He bit his lip in his uncertainty. Finally, his jaw set and Trowa could draw no more information from him.
They came to the place where the hallway divided, one side leading to the royal chambers, the other to the guest apartments. Expecting to be sent away for his temerity, Trowa turned toward his rooms and was surprised when a strong hand grabbed his arm. He turned to look into the unusually bright, blue eyes of his host. "Please," said the Prince in a hoarse whisper. "Come back with me tonight."
Quatre's face showed no sign of emotion, simply a strong determination as though he fought against some powerful inner force. In the torchlight, he burned with inner fire. "Why?" said Trowa, mouth dry.
"I want to tell you about Amun."
Smiling, Trowa offered a slight bow and was somewhat saddened when the hot grasp dropped away from his arm. It returned almost immediately, almost gentle as it wrapped itself about the crook of his elbow in a guiding embrace. "Amun," began Quatre, "became greatly renowned when he freed Kemet from the influence of a powerful tyrant...."
[47] "Mistress of the House" is the literal translation of the name "Nebt-het". Also known as "Nephthys", Nebt-het is the sister-wife of Set.
"The Prince of Nekheb" copyright A.C.Smith (aka Lady Bast), 2002. Send comments to asmith@ican.net Please do not repost or print (other than for personal use) without permission. The Gundam boys and all their paraphenelia belong to whomever currently holds the rights...I'm just borrowing them for a while. No infringement is intended, really. Really really. Please don't sue me, I have no money. If, however, you have a burning desire to hire me and PAY me money to write this kinda stuff, feel free to track me down.