909 words | The black prince [WT] (sequel to Lessons)
Content | Just. Anxiety, power imbalance
Notes | Elgar and the royals meet their language tutors!
There's not much in this episode but I'm happy to return to their story c: I actually wrote a much tastier bit too but alas it's from the next arc and I have as yet provided 0 of the context it needs lol. Soon (maybe)
After a few more days of travel, ever further upwards, they reached the mountain pass they had been aiming towards. It was late in the morning, and they hoped to descend from the coldest heights before nightfall.
But for now, a large valley lay draped before them, and, many miles away, upon the river meandering through it, the largest city Elgar had yet seen in Ochuria sat in it.
»Atcill!« the princess pointed out for him, and rubbed her brother across the back. »Almost home.«
At midday, they stopped at a camp they had been expected at; a handful of tents, only one fancy enough to host the prince and princess.
And from it, another Teeradian emerged.
She was dressed in fine Ochurian garb — much like him, Elgar realized a moment too late; it was easy to forget how fancy he must look now — and followed by a much younger Ochurian woman in much simpler clothes.
Both bowed to the royals, but the princess immediately hopped of her horse and hugged the Teeradian.
»Lady Hirias! Glad you could make the journey!« She spoke Teeradian, whether for the stranger’s benefit or his, Elgar wasn’t sure.
The prince next to Elgar dismounted, too, smiling and nodding at the woman; Elgar hurriedly followed.
She was awkwardly returning the princess’ hug, but her eyes were sharp, and they quickly settled on Elgar. Only when the princess let go, she turned her attention back to the royals.
»I am pleased you are well, your Highnesses.« Brief worry flickered across her face as she looked at Orafin, but he was still smiling, and she continued without comment, »This is Zizariu. State your purpose, girl.«
»I am — I am going to teach you how to sign, your Highness, if you’ll have me.« The young woman’s voice trembled a little, and her eyes were darting anxiously between the ground and the prince’s face; it was obvious she was not used to speaking to royalty.
But she was moving her hands as she spoke to demonstrate, fluidly and effortlessly.
»Her mother is deaf,« Lady Hirias explained bluntly. »She serves in the palace; a chef, I believe.«
Zizariu nodded, clearly still a little breathless from the company she was in.
»Thank you.« The princess smiled at her. »Your services — and your mother’s, I’ll say — are much appreciated.«
»Your Highness.«
»And this is Elgar.« The princess gestured at him far more dramatically than Elgar would have liked.
»I figured,« Lady Hirias said, raising an eyebrow and examining him head to toe. Elgar felt like sinking into the ground from the attention. »I hope you’re a bit quicker on the uptake than his Highness here.«
Only the slightest shadow of a smile gave away the playfulness of her tease. Orafin, though, just rolled his eyes and gave Elgar a pat on the arm.
»Lady Hirias will be teaching you Ochurian from here on out,« the princess said with a warm smile; surely his concern must be showing on his face.
»Yes, I — I figured that,« he replied weakly. »Milady,« he added quickly. The etiquette lessons the royals had been imparting on him felt an impossible bar to cross, far too many little rules to ever remember them all, but he could remember stuff like this — things that made some shadow of sense.
She cocked her head, and Elgar immediately realized she could hear, unlike the Ochurians, how lowly and peasant he sounded.
But she said nothing.
The princess chattered on as lunch was readied for them — still three meals every day, and still Elgar felt like it was a dream — and answered the burning question he didn’t dare ask.
»Lady Hirias has joined the intelligence corps when she came here, and now she’s retired, she’s teaching instead. She has rendered this country a great deal of service — kind of like you,« she added in what could only be a joke.
But something in Elgar’s mind clicked at the story. »You’re — you’re Lady Sirvi Hirias. You disappeared…«
Lady Hirias raised an eyebrow. »For a street urchin, you must have been paying close attention to court gossip.«
He hadn’t; everyone had heard of the lady’s disappearance and presumed death. The words burst out before he could stop himself. »You’re a traitor!«
Lady Hirias kept a straight face. »Kind of like you.«
Elgar was already in the process of trying to melt out of sight from the sudden bout of unexpected boldness, and now he had to reckon with being called a traitor.
Maybe he was. But Teeradia had never done much for him. The Ochurian royal family, on the other hand-
Lady Hirias nodded at him, pleased. »You see what I mean.«
The prince curiously looked back and forth between them, and Elgar wasn’t sure how to begin explaining. But then the prince just took his hand, squeezing it; he must have sensed his discomfort; and suddenly Elgar felt silly. It was nothing. What did it matter to him whether the lady had been loyal to the government of a country he had long since left behind?
What mattered was whether his efforts in her lessons would be appreciated, and he just had made it that much harder for himself. »I’m sorry,« he muttered, but of course it was too late.
Lady Hirias’ sharp eyes rested on him a moment longer, then she turned away, and the little smile he thought he caught in the corner of her mouth did not bode well.
