">>He should be awake by now.<<" Markesh quipped, staring with a ticked side-eye in the general direction of the castle through the wall of the wagon that was his Imperial's designated board. ">>I'm surprised he isn't out here, breathing down our necks as to why we aren't ready yet.<<"
">>Morning is a bane of everyone in different ways.<<" Fariah told him, holding back the yawn that threatened to keep her from finishing her breakfast honey roll. ">>I would suppose he is busy tormenting his own kitchen staff, if he is smart about travelling.<<"
">>I may have some words pertaining to that...<<" he muttered, keeping his Empress from retorting with a twist of his wrist and an expert pull on the corset ties.
Although the plate held together in the side joints with overlapped sturdy hooks, such panels were still stabilized against falling apart with hefty leather ties. Not only did they provide a failsafe should a hook come undone to keep the lightweight plating in place, it used the design of the segments to follow the shape of the wearer, offering both protection and subtlety. Flexible pauldrons lead into plates on the upper arms, hip skirting attached to the lower part of the corset hooked into casings for the thighs, all over the top of the necessary padded undergarments, pressed thin to provide protection from the plate and not bulk the profile.
">>I would prefer if you did not share these words. I understand you do not like him...<<" she began, receiving a derisive snort of her Regent as he pulled the silken blouse over the top and began adjusting it appropriately.
">>I hold more than dislike for the man, you know.<<" he interrupted, hooking the top of the slit in the sleeves under the edge of the pauldrons and the bottom of it into the joint just above the elbow.
A window on each arm to show the glimpse of armoring, an elegant show of military might without disregarding protection. The sleeves held silvery motifs across saturated orange on the pastel mint of the base silks, mirrored in the body of the blouse, though they only went halfway up the sleeves themselves. A drawstring at the bottom hems of both sleeves and the body were pulled and tied, tightening the otherwise flowing fabric to her body to prepare for the next step.
">>If you hated him any more than you do now, I would be able to tangibly taste it.<<" she sighed, stepping into a pair of pants reinforced for both covering the casings on her thighs and for riding without removing the aesthetics of the full wardrobe set. Like the sleeves of the blouse, the legs only showed embellishment above the knee, the flowing plain lower half pulled tight at the bottom hems around her ankles.
">>I'm surprised I haven't turned that honey roll rotten.<<" he quipped again, offering her a kerchief to wipe her now-sticky fingers off on before pulling one arm up to begin fixing the bracer and gauntlet over her gloved hand and lower arm on the outside of the reinforced silks of the blouse, meeting the elbow joint of the plating above. Elegant lines, made to fit the form and flow into the peeking pieces above, the process was repeated on the other arm.
">>Ah yes. I forgot to mention, we accidentally might have left the mage in the archives last night.<<" Markesh added on nonchalantly while hooking and pulling the plate on the second arm.
">>Above and below, are they alright?<<" Fariah asked him, looking down as he indicated the knee-high riding boot to her, plain in polished black leather. She offered a foot, then the other one as he shook his head.
">>They came to when everything was already done at least. And even decided to check in and gather the notes we had to leave behind in the dining room.<<" he told her, lacing the first boot with the practiced hand one might expect of a veteran Regent, moving to the second one. ">>I have them right ... here...<<"
He offered a stack of paper up to her. Some of the pages were torn, some looked like they had been drenched in something, a few corners crusty with some unknown substance she was almost afraid to ask about. But most of the scroll was readable and most of the pages were still there and she began reorganizing the stack to the best of her knowledge to reread the contents to remember what she had written down.
The prior leg was offered when Markesh tapped her boot and he wasted little time lifting and twisting gently to affix the first of the greaves. Like the bracers, they were not overtly embellished, but flowed into the hidden line of the thigh casing, ending at the cap on the knee from the bridge of a foot and around the elevated heel of the boot.
">>They said retrieving them was difficult, but not due to our temperamental King. Or maybe it was, I don't really know, the excuse was cryptic. I quote: 'I had to wrestle the dining room table for them'.<<" Markesh continued, making sure to accentuate every syllable of the quote while beginning on the second greave by slipping her foot into the bridge until it fit snuggly next to the boot heel.
">>Well. That was very kind of the--<<" Fariah paused as the subject in the news processed in her ears and she dropped the stack with a crinkly rustle she didn't like the sound of really. ">>--I'm sorry, they wrestled the what!?<<"
The Regent shrugged, making a noncommittal noise in his throat at the expulsion before finishing the hooks and ties of the second greave. ">>You can ask them before you leave, if you like, but I doubt the answer is changed. They seemed fairly committed to it when I asked about it.<<"
">>It's far too early to think about these implications and therefore, it is really not worth it. Clearly, they have earned a little rest today. See to it they get it, Markesh.<<" she told him, returning to the shuffling of her papers while stepping into a knee-length ruffling skirt he offered her.
">>I shall do my best for them. It must be quite upsetting, being beset by furniture...<<" he laughed a little, pulling the strings of the skirt at her waist and wrapping the seam tightly with a length of silk embellished the same as the rest and tucking it carefully into itself to hide the knot he placed in it to hold it in place. ">>There. My darling ladies, she is ready for your capable hands.<<"
The women who had attended their Empress in the bathing wagon before had followed the pair as per Markesh's request; while he was good at applying a wardrobe, his hands and eyes were terrible for hair and face. That was better left to other young ladies in the delegation, and they fluttered from the sides of the small chamber like little birds to their Imperial's side.
Combs and adornments were present in each of their hands and while she continued to read the notes she had written to catch herself up, they brushed through her wild tangle of a drying mane. Expert hands wrapped the copious nebula around itself against a hidden form, braiding strings of cowrie shells and longer garlands of pearls into the bun forming at the back of her head. A ring of shells spiraled around the lump, braided into strands of pearls to drape across the back of her neck and into a metal crook that sat across the top of her ears.
The notes were momentarily disregarded as with the inky tresses contained, the attendants painted her face fresh. Commands akin to 'close your eyes' and 'pucker the lip' prevented her from seeing what she was reading through. It was easier to wait as she followed the commands issued, closing her eyes for color and sharp thick lines, pouting for a splash of accent, holding her breath for emphasis on her facial angles with powders and light pastes. Jewelry was minimal; a pair of dangling earrings in the shape of a lotus formed of cut and set padparadscha, a motif mirrored in a solid silver cuff that clicked shut around her lower neck with pearl drapes. The ragged scar across the right side of her neck was still clearly visible, the lighter skin accentuated by the flash off the silver.
At her single word, powders and puffs were replaced with a short collection of several small knives, which she slipped into hidden slots and sockets along the length of greaves and bracers, clicking the subtle grips of the little blades into place to lock them until needed. A nod and mention of thanks to her impromptu attendants was given as she reached her right hand out and summoned the Aeroglaive to her. The enchanted weapon flew from its resting place on her bunk, still unchanged in its diminutive baton, and she slipped it into a sleeve made just for it on the outside of the right greave. Always there, always accessible, in the case it was needed as a weapon or as proof.
Markesh was already waiting by the door, holding out her cleaned and sheathed yatagan to her as completion, draping the crown over her head as the final touches when she took the sword. A faint creak of leather was given as she reacquainted herself with the weight and length of the blade, taking a deep breath to recenter herself for the task ahead.
">>Don't you worry, you are a vision.<<" Markesh chimed, holding the door open so she drank the morning air and sun for a moment.
Activity stopped among the delegation as the sun caught the Empress, playfully sparking along the threads and gems, limning over the visible plate. Their Imperial in full regalia, they hit the ground on their knees in perfect unison to touch the earth at her feet and raise the blessed energy to show adoration. Customary greetings to those they saw as holy, though she knew further instances would be with the simple bow as they rose in equal sync. They showed her reverence, and she would work to make their lives better.
">>May the Second Day of Nine be fruitful.<<" she announced, taking regards to the second set of colored flags flying beneath Sidhe banners on the wagons. ">>Honor the Unmarried Goddess as the scholar. May she bless you in your thanks and reverence for the coming year to the next Nine Nights with maternal love and adoration. Enjoy your festivities.<<"
A cheer of acceptance and agreement was issued, and once the revelry had died enough they were returning to their daily tasks, Fariah looked over her shoulder to lay her gilded gaze onto Markesh.
">>Have Bucephalus made up with the artillery tack, if you would.<<" she told him, pursing her lips as he made to argue and then thought better of it. ">>The saddle is softer and has better storage space than the cavalry tack does.<<"
Ah yes. Though she was capable of mostly ignoring it, the thought of a long ride reminded her of the dull ambient ache still in her joints. There was no more argument from her Regent, just a simple thinning of his own lips as he was off to do his requested duty.
A huff of a sigh was released again as she made her way to the center of the community grounds between wagons, staring tiredly up toward the castle building itself. There hadn't been any noise from up there, she almost wondered if the new King was even awake. For all his noise and bluster the day before, she couldn't imagine he would be anything other than blatant.
At least it gave her a chance to settle in and adjust to her extra weight. Small victories and all that.
