“The palace,” he corrects. “A castrum—” he makes a point of using the Garlean word “— is a defensive fortification. You would do well to remember such distinctions whilst you are in Garlemald.”
But more pressing than Hythlodaeus’s wanting vocabulary is the public context of that stay, and Solus mulls it over silently while Caecilia tends to his hair. If Hythlodaeus intends to be seen out and about on his arm in public, then word of the Emperor’s paramour would get around sooner rather than later—including to the empress. And while there is something amusing about letting her be the last to know about a publicly flaunted lover, he does wonder if that will set Hythlodaeus up for an unpleasant stay in her crosshairs.
Caecilia finishes her task, and the noisy hair dryer silences. She smoothes a pomade or some such over his duotone locks, and he delivers his verdict: “We will indeed tour the city, but it will likely not be tomorrow. We will discuss it further later.”
There is no room left for debate in his phrasing, and he shooes Caecilia away just in case Hythlodaeus has a mind to do so. Caecilia—whose dull sundered eyes have widened at Hythlodaeus’s suggestion of a gift, half in alarm and half in excitement at the prospect of becoming so favored of the Emperor for the simple happenstance of being called upon while he was entertaining this strange but amiable guest—is briefly startled by the abrupt dismissal so discordantly on the heels of Hythlodaeus’s cajoling warmth, but quickly remembers herself and does the emperor’s bidding with a hasty bow.
Thus alone once more, he turns to Hythlodaeus, one hand on his shoulder, the other gingerly caressing the familiar lavender braid—familiar, and yet different somehow. Caecilia’s work is more purposeful and neater than Hythlodaeus’s own, the weave tighter, the strands neater, but although Hades recalls the informational knowledge that Hythlodaeus wore his braid loosely, after twelve thousand years he can’t recall precisely how it was. How had his strands fallen about his face, how had his bangs framed his eyes? Was it always precisely as he looked now, and Hades has simply forgotten? He strains to remember, but ultimately contents himself with the simple pleasure that Hythlodaeus is here now, however he was in the past and however he is in the present. He is here, and that is the only thing that matters.
Regardless of how anyone else in the imperial capital may feel about it.
Solus’s champagne eyes—likewise the same and yet different from the ones through which Hades looked at him in the past—focus on the here and now, from gazing into his hazy, braid-induced memories to the man physically standing before him in the present. And so Hades, too, is present. And the present contains some minor complications to be worked around.
“We should discuss the matter of the Empress.”
Hythlo watched the young lady leave with a happy wave goodbye. Once she was gone though, his attention turned back to his mate, eyes bright and full of life as he smiled at he whom he loved above all else. He watched him touch and soothe his digits through his braid, feeling over his lilac locks with a silence and curiousness only a lover could give.
Deep down he had to wonder just how long had it been to see him like this again. Had he ever forgotten his face in all those thousands of years apart...? It was a worrying concern but he kept it to himself and instead focused on having his beloved close and leaning into his warm touch and the happiness they felt in eachothers company. The one thing that would never change between them. That of of course all changed with Hades next statement though. Ah. The Empress...Solus’s wife. Whatever warmth he felt quickly turned into a bitter cold with his dread.
Irrational as it was, he didn’t really want to go about this topic. But he assumed they needed to if he was going to be staying here.
‘‘Ah....yes. Your ‘lover’.”
The words turned his mouth unconfutably dry. Hythlodaeus didn’t know this woman, nor how far Hades care for her went, but he knew already that he wasn’t going to like this woman from the start. She who laid with his mate. Bore his children...lived the life he never got to have with the man he loved. Perhaps it was envy. A rare feeling Hyth had ever felt. For he was warmth and friendliness incarnate. Joy and bliss given form...to dislike anyone seemed almost taboo in his mind. To be disliked in turn just as alien. But he knew in his heart of hearts the tension between them would be an abyss deep.
“....I understand if you of course wish to keep our true relationship a secret to the masses. I wish not to put your role in jeopardy my love. You have worked too tirelessly on your mission to let but I ruin your majestic play.” And he meant that. If he had to play the idle bard in the distance and watch this Empress cling to his lovers side, watch her kiss him....for him and him alone would he bare such torment. He but only say so and his will would be done. But if Hades wished to say screw it all and care note completely, in that too would he support him.
There was a beat of silence before he grew the courage to speak and as he did would he lean closer, curling his arms around his mates own as he stared up to him with those bright ancient amethyst eyes full of genuine fascination. “Tell me of this Empress...do you care for her or is she but another pawn in your game? Why did you choose her or was she chosen for you? I’m quite curious to know of this mortal. What will she think of me I come to wonder~”
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