[Daniel & Naia] Messenger Duties

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

My month of messenger duties were continuing to amuse Mandrake - other Mandrakes - mightily.

I had already been thrown out of The Grand Magasin de Soie this morning for asking for a Jacques Strap.

Yes. Hah bloody hah.

It wasn't so much that I minded being sent pillar to post across the length and breadth of the city at anyone's whim, it's just … actually I did mind being sent pillar to post across the length and breadth of the city at anyone's whim. At first it had been an opportunity to get out and about. Now I was merely hot, with sore feet.

I passed through Elua's Square, commanding my way through the bustle with a certain Mandrakian determination. Most of the people I barged through seemed as warm and irritable as I felt, but as I approached the fountain, the splash of falling water calmed me and cooled me.

I sat down on the rim, so very tempted to take off my boots and stick my feet in the water, but suspected that might be considered at best ill-mannered and at worst actively blasphemous. I had resolved to become a more discriminating messenger from this point on. I'd even come prepared with a few candle stubs and a tinder box, which meant I spent a not entirely unpleasant half hour carefully steaming open all the letters, discarding the ones that said things like “keep this messenger standing around as long as possible, heh heh”, noting anything noteworthy in the remainder and watching the busy world go by.

[Naia Shahrizai]

I'd found that I really enjoyed spending time in Elua's Square. I brought Jace sometimes, but sometimes it was nice to get out on my own, especially if I had errands to run, because then I would be laden with packages. Hannah was always offering to do the errands for me, but now that I had a home of my own, well, I enjoyed keeping it.

The Square was emptier than usual, what with a good portion of the men off at war, and that thought gave me a pang in my stomach for Kendrick. I hadn't heard back from him yet and sometimes I could not sleep for the worry. I didn't want to think about that right now, though, because it was summer and a beautiful day and I was child-free for the afternoon.

I settled on the edge of the fountain, trailing my fingers in the cool water and glancing over at the person nearest to me, a man who looked a bit dour. I knew it was probably rather rude of me, but I was in a good mood and wanted to spread it around. It was so unlike me that my father was probably rolling over in his grave, but events were conspiring to make me much less bitter and angry than I had been in the past.

"Good afternoon," I said, flicking the water off of my fingers in the direction of someone's little dog that had run past. A large woman chased after it, huffing and puffing all the way, and I had to laugh lightly. "It seems that some of us are having a more relaxing day than others."

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

A splish splash of water at my side and the edge of a shadow on the rim of the fountain drew my attention to the arrival of a newcomer. Like me, she had stopped to rest and her general demeanour seemed cheerful. From her appearance, and the fact she had time to waste, she was probably a noble woman of some sort. Pale skin, dark hair with a blueish sheen, startling eyes. Uh oh. But if that particular combination started alarm bells ringing, her civil greeting and her laugh dispelled my concern. And even if she was Shahrizai, what right had I to judge by mere appearance? Especially when I so despise being judged myself.

I followed the crescent of water she flicked from her fingers to the absurd spectacle of the harried woman chasing a dog across the square. I couldn't help but laugh, because it did look rather like the comic interlude in a three act play. But I'm too much of a sap to laugh at someone else for long.

I grinned at the stranger, and unceremoniously dumped my messages into her lap. “Hold these a moment, will you? Let's see what we can do to make someone's day a little bit better.”

I jumped to my feet and, because it seemed easier than fighting my way through the crowd, ran along the fountain rim until I was in a position to intercept the dog. I caught it by the scruff of the neck and bade it, in my best mandrake voice, to sit. It obliged, not quite going so far as to abase itself on the cobbles but it wagged its tail apologetically, whimpered a little and generally looked embarrassed as if it wanted to assure me it didn't know what had induced it to behave so badly. I patted its head reassuringly, as its owner arrived and scooped it into her arms, thanking me rather more energetically that was entirely necessary. I just about managed to re-direct her grateful kiss onto my cheek, and then, still urging her not worry about it in slightest, made my escape.

I was only a little out of breath as I dropped back down beside the blue-eyed stranger who had inadvertantly sent me dog-hunting in the first place.

“Well,” I said, just about resisting the urge to rub at my cheek like a six year who had just been kissed by a maiden aunt, “now I know why the dog was running.”

[Naia Shahrizai]

My mouth formed a little 'oh' of exclamation as the stranger suddenly deposited his messages on to my lap and went running after the woman and the dog. The wind caught one of them, and I grabbed for it frantically, but it ended up in the water nonetheless. I quickly fished it out, shaking it off as if that would dry it somehow before he returned.

I looked up in time to see the man catch the dog, return it to it's owner and and... I laughed out loud when I watched the woman enthusiastically kiss his cheek. I was still laughing when he returned, looking a bit chagrined.

"Well, that was gallant of you nonetheless," I said, handing back the dry letters and holding up the wet one. "And I'm very sorry, but I seem to have lost control of this one here, I hope it's nothing too important." Abashed, I shook it out again, which had the effect of splattering us both with tiny, cold droplets. "Maybe if we lay it out in the sun it will dry fine?" I doubted it, the ink was already running, but I made the suggestion anyhow.

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

She couldn't have been Shahrizai (not that I'd really met any to compare but they had a reputation you know and that must have counted for something) because she laughed far too readily. It was quite lovely. There wasn't enough laughter at Mandrake – at least not laughter that wasn't aimed specifically at someone. Usually me.

I took back my pile letters. “Oh don't worry,” I said, catching her anxious look. “I dumped them on you without proper warning. You were entirely within your rights to dump them all in the fountain. Although I'm glad you didn't, as some of these are important. Not that one though.” I crumpled up the wet mess and stuffed it into a pocket. “Besides, I'm not an official messenger or anything so it's hardly my fault if I'm terrible at it.”

I stole another glance at her. Her eyes were so striking, especially against that hair. No wonder people admired the combination so.

“It's sort of a punishment,” I went on, losing control of my mouth in general pleasure at the stranger at my side. “For assaulting a Valerian.” Oh no! That sounded bad. “Not, that I did. No, really, I didn't. You can ask him. Or anyone. I wouldn't do that. I really really wouldn't do that. Did I even say hello, by the way? Um. Hello.”

[Naia Shahrizai]

My eyebrows had begun to climb upward as he spoke, and by the time he got to the part about assaulting a Valerian I would have sworn they were well past my hairline. Still, having been in the position where things I'd done sounded much worse when described out loud, I decided that I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Not many had done that for me, and it made me want to be a better person than that.

"Hello," I said, an amused smile hovering on my lips as I reached out and plucked the wet message from his pocket. "It's rather a warm day out, I'm sure we can dry this out." I spread the soggy paper out and placed it between us on the fountain's edge.

"There," I said, bundling up the other messages and handing them over. "Now, I am absolutely mad with curiosity about your story, Messenger-Who-Isn't. You've assaulted a Valerian, though in some ways that hardly seems a punishable offense, and who is punishing you anyhow? Their Dowayne? I'd think she would simply take the punishment out of your purse." I sat back a bit and waited, still smiling a bit, interested in this tale of his, while perhaps I should have been wary of someone who admitted to any type of assault. Though for all I knew, the Valerian was Sinclair and of course who could be blamed in that instance?

"If you tell me what is surely a fascinating tale, I shall help you deliver your messages, how is that for a deal?"

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

I was intrigued. I couldn’t help it. She had not run away screaming, which was, in itself, a miracle. And she spoke with genuine knowledge of the Houses, which few actually possessed. And she had a delightfully dry way of express herself, which made me smile. That was three counts in her favour, putting her well ahead of the game.

“Actually,” I said, “it isn’t a fascinating tale at all, so I would be offering a poor bargain, and then you might feel cheated. But I’ll tell you it gladly and then perhaps you can assess its worth.”

I leaned back on my elbows on the wide fountain rim, enjoying both the sun and the unexpected company of a stranger. “Are you sitting comfortably?” I asked, mimicking the style of the storytellers we had at Eglantine, “Good. Then I shall begin.”

“Once upon a time, a Valerian messenger came to Mandrake and all the Mandrake adepts were bored so they watched him and whistled and speculated among themselves but none of them thought to actually talk to him. He was, incidentally, a very pretty Valerian messenger – perhaps the prettiest I have ever seen. Remarkable blue eyes for which,” I grinned at her, “I shall tell you, as an added bonus to the value of my tale, I have something of a weakness. So the brave hero (that’s me, by the way) did speak to the Valerian and lo they had a lovely conversation whereupon one of the unnamed villains of our piece, to wit some envious adept, decided to tell Ignace the noble hero was harassing the pretty, blue-eyed Valerian messenger.”

“I am many things,” I added quickly, “but duplicitous is not one of them, so Ignace believed my explanation. He did, however, give me messenger duty as punishment for being stupid. And I can’t really blame him for that. And that is the tale of how I did not assault a Valerian.”

“Besides,” I went on, laughing, “I flatter myself that any assaults I wished to perpetrate would be well received. So, that’s my tale. What’s it worth to you? A name at the very least, I would hope.”

[Naia Shahrizai]

I settled back to hear the story, a wide smile on my face. I liked him already, he was amusing and a bit sarcastic, like Sinclair if Sinclair wasn't always in such a foul mood. Of course, I loved Sinclair dearly, despite his moods.

I realized over the course of the story that my new friend was apparently a Mandrake adept. I didn't wish to judge, who was I to?, but all I could think about was Demetrius and the way he... I shivered in the warm afternoon sun, discomfited at the memory. Still, I couldn't be afraid of this man, his eyes seemed to smile and he didn't seem ... well, dangerous at all, and besides, he wasn't like to whip me in the middle of the square, was he? I was being ridiculous!

"It was quite the tale," I said, deciding at once to give him the benefit of the doubt, remembering Sinclair and how he had determined to hate all Shahrizai, and yet we were best friends now. "I think it does deserve a name, and mine is Naia Shahrizai, though you might have guessed. I could have told you to be careful around the Valerian at Mandrake, I imagine it something like a hen in a fox's den." I made a face and laughed. "There's probably a better way of putting that, but you know what I mean."

"And what do I have to do," I added, "in order to get your name? I fear I have no tales of such gallant adventures to share."

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

I’m not really much of a performer, but she listened well regardless, and I realised about halfway through my story that I was chasing her smiles. At the revelation of her name, however, I felt awkward again, and I desperately tried to dredge up some useful memories from the classes of etiquette and nobility hierarchies I used to doze through. Naia Shahrizai. Was she one of the mad ones? If she was, she was doing an astonishingly good job at concealing it.

“I... suspected you might be a Shahrizai because of your colouring,” I said, with kamikaze honesty, “but then I thought you couldn’t be because you didn’t act like one. And then I realised I actually had no idea what a Shahrizai would act like because I’ve never met one before.”

So much for snaring a high profile patron through idle conversation by the fountain at Elua Square and making all the other Mandrakes insanely jealous, not that I’d really been expecting to, even when I recognised my companion was likely a noble. It was probably for the best anyway – weren’t the Shahrizai supposed to be irresistible, when they weren’t betraying you, that is? Of course all Naia had been thus far was good company but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous.

“My Valerian was no chicken,” I said. “And even if he was, the foxes would have been so busy fighting each other they’d have forgotten what they were fighting for in the first place. But then I think you’ve probably had more experience with Valerians than I have.”

“Oh, and my name is Daniel,” I added. “Which I give you gladly.”

[Naia Shahrizai]

His honesty was refreshing, especially because it seemed that all of the nobility wanted to do nothing more than hide behind coy masks and barbed words, and I found it so tiring sometimes. There were days that I missed spending all of my time at the bottom of a bottle and not caring what anyone said or did or thought about me, but now that I had Jace, I had to care what people thought.

"To be honest, what a Shahrizai acts like is as varied as any other family, though of course we are known for our ... predilictions, somewhat." I had to smile at that, because I shared those predilictions in some ways, but in other ways, well, there was a reason I'd gone to Mandrake in the first place, wasn't there? "Still, I like to think that I am a good example of the more moderate side to my kin." Now, anyway.

"And what of you, a Mandrake on messenger duty? Not something one sees every day, I assure you." I grinned at him, and most especially at his continuance of my analogy.

"I can well imagine, though in truth all I know of Valerians is outside the assignation chamber, and only because my closest friend is a Valerian." And an odd one at that, and I felt a pang then, because I missed him so.

"It seems that we are both somewhat out of the norm, or so it seems," I said, smiling and dragging my fingers through the cool water of the fountain. "Whether that is good or bad is a matter for discussion, however, as some opinions differ on that." I found myself actually hoping that he would wish to discuss it, because I found his company easy and charming, and it had been far too long since I had felt that way. Generously, I felt, I overlooked his being a Mandrake adept and thus someone to stay clear of, and instead tried to pretend he was just Daniel and I was just Naia with no preconceived notions between us.

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

“I’ve no idea what moderate for a Shahrizai even means,” I said, amused. “I mean is that like describing a snake as being only a little bit deadly?”

I stopped abruptly, realizing what I had implied. “By Kushiel, that was really rude. I didn’t mean it to be. You have to understand, I’ve only actually read about your family… when I was awake in those classes anyway. From this conversation, I think probably must have slept through etiquette as well.”

I was bringing shame on my House.

“I’m bringing shame on my House,” I said.

And apparently uttering aloud every thought that was going through my head.

“Can I just call you Naia and we’ll forget it ever happened?” I asked, falling back on whatever charm I possessed coupled with a quite phenomenal amount of sheepishness thrown in.

I put my fingertips to the surface of the water and chased the ripples she was making. “And actually I wish you’d tell me what it means to be a moderate Shahrizai – I suppose that’s the difference you were talking about?”

[Naia Shahrizai]

I considered his words, though a bit amused at the way he stumbled a bit, and the charming way he smiled.

"That's a good question, actually... by 'moderate' I mean someone who..." I trailed off, trying to think of a good example, but of all of our kin I could not think of any that did not have the Shahrizai traits in spades, mad or not. "For instance," I tried again, "I myself have never had a Valerian adept. I confess, I'm not really sure what I would do with one. Maybe 'moderate' is the wrong word ... maybe it's just that some of us are less 'Shahrizai' than others."

Some of us hadn't he benefit of a normal upbringing, and whatever Shahrizai nature I possessed was just beginning to emerge.

"What about Mandrakes? I imagined you all to be wandering around with whips at your belt, with serious faces. Obviously, I am quite mistaken." I gave him a little grin, a real smile, the kind usually reserved for Sinclair or Jace, and then added. "At least people can't tell you are a Mandrake just by looking at you. I do find it tiresome that I can never be 'incognito' so to speak."

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

The answer to my question was becoming clearer the more I spoke to her, and not just through her words. It's true I had nothing to compare against but it seemed to me she had all the rumoured charm, intelligence and subtle wit of her kin with none of the disadvantages. And she hadn't yet pushed me into the fountain or walked away, so it was all good.

“I think any Valerian would swoon with joy to have you as a patron, and for yourself, not your bloodline or your wealth,” I said. “I've only been with one myself, and the encounter was somewhat unusual. I hope I don't betray a trust by speaking for it, for it's a memory I hold dear to my heart. But the difference for me was this: when I'm with a patron, their pleasure and needs are primary, as they must be. But that can sometimes create a distance, since in accommodating another completely you must sometimes hold back yourself. Not always though – sometimes when trust has built, or a patron is particularly self-aware, the gap closes. But with the Valerian we were simply two equals who met in desire and it was...” I let out a slightly unsteady breath “...I can't really describe it.”

I glanced at her, faintly embarrassed to be telling her such things, though I hardly knew her. No wonder this bloodline nearly took over the kingdom. I grinned, to dispel the the seriousness of my unexpected confidences.

“I sometimes think people only believe I'm truly a Mandrake when I have them tied up and am holding a whip over them. So 'incognito' has disadvantages too.”

[Naia Shahrizai]

"Well, my wealth is overrated," I said with a bit of a grimace. Truly it was nonexistent and I was dependent on Kendrick, however much I hated that. "And like I said, I should not even know what to do with a Valerian if I had one... I think perhaps that I am not creative enough for such pursuits. Or perhaps I am simply lazy?" I laughed softly, softening my self-deprecating words, though they were true in some ways. I did have creativity - how could I paint otherwise? - but it lay in the use of shapes and colors, not in the delicate balance of pain and pleasure. Though the thought of it... I wondered what I could learn, if I truly cared to.

I listened to him speak then, our conversation taking a serious turn and a fascinating one as well, and I found myself leaning forward slightly, as if being handed a deep secret, one that I accepted and turned over in my mind and innately understood. Perhaps it was the reason I stayed away from the Night Court, I craved an intimacy that could not be found with someone you were paying to keep you company. I did not find it in low dives nor anywhere else, either, and I had begun to wonder if such things were a myth.

I saw something in him, and I realized with a start that it wasn't something everyone else saw. I had always despaired of being able to 'read' people the way my family was famous for, but here it was, not a reading, but a knowing, a seeing, a way of looking at someone and knowing something about them that maybe they did not even know. It was disconcerting, and I was pleased when he smiled and turned the topic and the moment slipped through my fingers like silk.

"I imagine you can make them rue their mistake," I said, though in truth it was hard to imagine it. He smiled too readily, his eyes were too merry, and ... and I needed to quit trying to imagine his dominance because my breath was beginning to come a bit too quickly.

I looked away, down at the water that sparkled as if it were studded with thousands upon thousands of tiny diamonds, and regained my small lapse of composure, looking back up at him with a smile.

"It's hard, isn't it? Having a 'mold' to fit into, but not quite being able to make yourself fit. Although," I reflected, smiling still, because even though our conversation was serious, I still felt easy and pleasant. "Sometimes it's fun to surprise people, and not to do what they expect."

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

“I'd rather nobody rued the time they chose to spend with me,” I said, in the same half-serious, half-jesting tone that seemed to come naturally to both of us. “That would defeat the point a bit, wouldn't it, and they wouldn't come back.” It probably seemed something of a paradox to her, or perhaps I was the paradox. She was certainly regarding me with curiosity and I couldn’t help but wonder what she saw. Perhaps she was trying to connect the lines between Daniel laughing beside her on the fountain rim and Daniel in the assignation chamber with a whip in his hand. It’s a line I used to worry about myself until I realised it was all just me.

“And don't get me started on the Mandrake 'mould'. I can’t tell how much of it is training and how much of it is expectation. I know many would consider me atypical of my House, but my heart is true enough."

And there I was again, telling her things that I’d never told anyone – although that was mainly due to never having been asked, rather than any unwillingness on my part. I suppose there is a peculiar sort of liberty in confiding to a stranger, and I found myself rushing on regardless:

"Our motto, after all, is ‘Yield all’. That’s a command, or perhaps an invitation, to someone else. It’s not a decree of personal behaviour. It’s doesn’t say ‘Never Yield Anything To Anyone Ever For Fear It Makes You Look Weak’. So you may be damn sure I’ll laugh when I’m amused, and weep when I’m sad, and apologise when I’m wrong. And, should someone choose to submit to me, I’ll take their yielding with great pleasure and little mercy.”

I paused, suddenly feeling awkward . “Speaking of apologising when I’m wrong – I'm imposing too much upon you. I just don’t often get much opportunity to talk this way, and it’s gone to my head. It’s a good job I’m an adept and not a politician, I would surely have told you every secret of the realm by now.”

I put my fingers in the water again and flicked a few shinning droplets in her direction.

[Naia Shahrizai]

"Well, that makes perfect sense," I said, laughing softly. Certainly it must be best not to have patrons 'rue' any time spent with you, if you wished to keep a good reputation and future patronage.

"That's an interesting question," I continued, "Training versus expectations, or in my case, genetics versus expectations. Where does one leave off and the other begin? How much of who we are is truly us and not just an extension of what we are expected to be? I assume it's that way for everyone, to an extent, but it does seem like those of us with such labels as 'Shahrizai' and 'Adept' have so many expectations piled upon us that it's a wonder we can breathe at all."

He continued and I realized as he spoke that he had the right of it. For too long I had tried to be 'Shahrizai' instead of just being Naia. It was a bit of a revelation, and I had had so many of those since becoming pregnant with Jace that I was practically in a state of constant epiphany these days. When he apologized for it, I shook my head quickly.

"No, don't apologize! In all honesty, this is probably the most interesting conversation that I've had in ... well, ever." I was tempted then, and followed my impulse, to reach out and rest a hand on his knee lightly. "And it's rather nice to be thought worthy enough for someone to confide in."

I moved my hand as the water droplets landed in my hair and one on the tip of my nose, dipping my fingers back into the water and returning the favor with a laugh.

"Besides, where better to have a serious conversation than in public with a virtual stranger?"

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

I laughed, and shook the water she had flicked my way from my hair, spattering the stonework and, accidentally, the letter she had left out to dry. I guess that message was doomed.

“I don't know,” I said, “having had the serious conversations in public, I'm pretty sure that means we aren't strangers any more, since you now know more about me than most people do.”

I turned on the fountain ledge so I was facing her fully, folding my legs under me, not especially easily since I am on the gangly side, but careful not to tip off her hand, since I liked the warmth of the fleeting, physical connection, matching the mental one.

“I hadn't thought much about life on...” I waved my hands in dreamy motions to underscore the slight absurdity of what I was about to say “...the other side. When Patrons come to me they tend to be seeking release for something, sometimes themselves, sometimes just the stresses of life, and sometimes something very straight forward. But I hadn't really given much thought to the weight of heredity drawing them in different directions.” I quirked another smile at her. “It seems you may have made me a better adept as well.”

“But I've babbled on enough. Have you figured out where Naia begins and Shahrizai ends? At the moment, you're mainly showing me Naia, I think.”

[Naia Shahrizai]

"I think I am Naia, most of the time, the problem is that I've always thought just being Naia wasn't enough." I thought of my father and every hurtful word, every pinch or slap, every glaring look ... I'd never been enough for him, that was for certain.

"Perhaps everyone is seeking something in their interactions, patron and adept, or just people on the street. Maybe there is a reason we seek each other out, and maybe conversations like this are part of it." It was strange, really, how easily the words slipped forth, thoughts and ideas that I barely had a handle on. Maybe what I was seeking was this, this easy friendship and understanding, this moment of not feeling so alone.

"Or perhaps I am simply waxing philosophical and have no idea what I am talking about, I daresay that is possible." I laughed softly and shook my head. "I don't know who Naia is all the time, but I guess the fun is in figuring it out, right?"

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

I grinned across at her, a touch more flirtatious than friendly now, but then I tend to flirt when I like someone, and that's all to do with Daniel and very little to do with the trained adept. “I imagine that could be a lot of fun, yes,” I agreed.

And then, slightly more seriously: “If you want a companion for journeys into selfhood then I'm available … evenings, weekends, well, most of the time of the time actually. Although I'm actually not sure what it would entail. My own soul has thus far avoided its long dark night. Although I had a short grey teatime once.”

Except I'd been too much of a child to really understand what was going on; and what Calandria of Eglantine had meant when she told me a man could not serve two masters.

“Why would you think being Naia wasn't enough?” I said, curiously. “If that's not a horrendously personal question for a relative stranger to ask – not that it seems to have stopped me asking.”

[Naia Shahrizai]

"I have had my long dark night, I think," I said, catching the reference to a work I'd read once upon a time, "Or maybe I am still in it?" I laughed at his wit, I couldn't help it, he was obviously smart, but not pompous about it. The last thing I needed was to be condescended to, I'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

"I would welcome a companion, actually," I continued, making a little face as I spoke. "I need someone about to tell me when I'm being a terrible fool, because I only seem to figure it out after the fact." The situation with Kendrick was glaring proof of that, as was the existence of my son, though I could not bring myself to see him as a mistake, however stupid I had been. Jace had saved my life, now I had to do something with it.

"It's hard to explain, not without some background," I said slowly, wondering how much to say. It was a personal question, if only because it all came back to my father, and talking about him was like poking at a raw wound. No matter how often I had thought it had scabbed over and I could begin healing, something always happened to show me how wrong I was. What was it going to take to put that to rest?

"Long story short, I grew up unwanted, and it's colored my perceptions. I didn't realize it until just recently, that perhaps I was not so worthless as I was told, though I still don't always believe it." I felt heat in my cheeks, this was more than I was accustomed to sharing, even with Sinclair, with whom everything was always unsaid. Maybe it was that Daniel was a virtual stranger, it helped that there were no preconceived notions between us. Well, none that were not attributed to our status, anyway. I was Shahrizai and he Mandrake, perhaps it was expected that we would be talking about floggers and clamps, but neither of us was all that typical of our breed.

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

“I'm not the best judge of foolishness,” I said, smiling, “being rather too inclined in that direction myself. I think most people are born with a natural fear of looking like an idiot, whereas I am far more afraid of missing something … I don't know what, though, just something. It's an unfortunate trait for a Mandrake. Dignity, y'know.”

I liked to think I had it when it counted. In the assignation chamber, at least, where everything was simple suddenly. Simple and blissfully right.

I listened as Naia told me something about her past, the words coming more slowly than usual, and her expression clouding with introspection. It was, however, only when she blushed that I realised how difficult it must have been for her to talk so openly, and I let my gaze drift across the sparkling surface of the water, giving her a little space.

“I can't imagine that,” I said, finally. “I mean, I know it happens but, really, why have children if you don't have every intention of loving them? It seems an insult to Eisheth among other things.” I didn't often think about the future, it was all too uncertain, but I often liked to picture my imaginary children laughing in a green field. “I've never doubted my parents affection, even though I was sort of … well … you have the heir, the back-up and … the spare. What does one do with a third son? I was probably supposed to be a daughter to complete the set. Regardless, they indulged me quite shockingly.”

Indeed, when my aptitude for music had made itself known, there had been tutors, concerts, books, everything I could have wanted. And then Eglantine where I was supposed to have made a great name for myself. Except … I didn't.

[Naia Shahrizai]

"Dignity is overrated," I declared with a smile as I recovered a bit from my personal admissions. There now, was that so hard? And he hadn't laughed or made a sarcastic remark or anything of the sort that I had expected. Even Sinclair... but no, that wasn't fair, Sinclair's sarcasm was directed most often at himself, as a manner of protection, and if it sometimes transferred to me, well, who was I to judge him?

"I agree," I said, as the conversation continued, coming to the subject of parents and children again. There were a thousand things I could have said about my father, but the truth was that I agreed with Daniel - why have a child you did not want? "I think I was supposed to be a son myself," I said. Actually, I knew I was and it was one of the things my father had never forgiven me for. "It must have been nice to know your parents cared, though," I said, somewhat wistfully. Then, lest I seem too depressing, "I had my older sister, though. Sarielle was wonderful, I don't know what I would have done without her." While she was there, anyway. Once she'd gone, well, things had gotten progressively worse.

"For my son, well, I am already trying to make sure he will have the complete opposite of a childhood than I had, and that's the most I can do really .. see my father's mistakes and not make them with my child." I was almost speaking to myself now, thinking about Jace and about how I loved him and how he would never feel the pain of thinking otherwise.

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

I snorted somewhat sceptically at the idea that dignity was over-rated. That was not likely to be a lesson coming out of Mandrake any time soon.

“I'm not sure I would have made a very good daughter anyway,” I went on, fluttering my lashes at her and doing my best to simper. What was that we were just saying about dignity? I put down my imaginary fan. “And, yes, they did care. Do care,” I amended hastily. I should probably have visited, but even after all these years I don't quite dare to face them. I'm used to seeing incomprehension in their eyes but I wasn't sure I could bear their shame, or worse, their fear. I think they could probably just about cope with the musician from Eglantine but Daniel no Mandrake? He Who Beats People Up For Money? Oh dear. Oh dear. My son the religiously mandated whore. Poor mother. Love as thou wilt is all very well but nobody's parents should know what their children like to do in the bedroom.

“I don't know how to say this without sounding like an absolute arse but they're quite … simple … people. They seem to move through life as if, I don't know, they're sailing across a tranquil lake. I've envied them their placidity sometimes. As you can probably tell, I'm somewhat..” oh the irony of that somewhat “...more tempestuous.”

Enough thinking about myself. I don't know why I should have been surprised to hear Naia had a child of her own but I was. And I probably showed it. But there was no mistaking the passion in her voice when she spoke of her; and it soon seemed right enough. “I'm sure you won't repeat your father's mistake,” I said, mischievously “I suspect you'll probably make your own instead. But then that's what family isn't it? Lots of mistakes and forgiveness.”

I should really see mine. If I ever find the courage.

[Naia Shahrizai]

I giggled in a way that I hadn't in years at Daniel's female impression, especially at the eyelashes.

"You do that better than I've ever managed," I commented when I stopped for breath. It took a minute but I managed to stifle my laughter as the conversation went back to more serious topics, of a sort. I did not imagine Daniel to be terribly serious most of the time, and I had to wonder what that must be like in the assignation room. I didn't like that I was even thinking such thoughts in passing, not after my last visit to his House, so I quickly latched on to the the topic of tranquility.

"I do wonder how some people come by that calmness, or peace," I confessed, finding that Daniel and I seemed to have some things in common. "My sister is like that, and I ... well, tempestuous is as good a word as any." It was fairly accurate too, and sounded a lot better than the usual adjectives: crazy, stubborn, stupid, to name a few.

"Forgiveness," I mused aloud, thinking about Sari and our relationship. "I think that is the element that my family is missing." I said it as a joke, but even as the words came out, they had the ring of truth to them. My father had never forgiven me for my birth, I had never forgiven Sarielle for leaving, Kendrick would likely never forgive me for deceiving him. I decided then that I would forgive my son anything and pray to Kushiel that he would return the favor.

"I shall start today," I announced with a grin. "I will forgive anyone who wrongs me today, no matter what!" It was a rather impetuous announcement, especially considering my life, but why not? It was easy to say that one would practice forgiveness if there was nothing to forgive.

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

I was pleased to have made her laugh. Maybe ex-composer and full-time sadist were mere distractions from my true calling of ‘pointless jester’. “Of course,” I said, aloud, “I’ve never actually see a real woman act anything like that, so I don’t know where the impression comes from.” Well, possibly the blonde-haired Princesse from Valerian. She had quite a line in obnoxious simpering.

“I don’t know if the price of that kind of peace is worth it. I mean, I’m sure they’re happy enough but...” I paused, struggling to express what I was thinking, “I’m not sure I’d really want that sort of happiness anyway. I’d rather have what I have, with all its confusions, and,” accompanying this next with a rather ironic look, “moments of excruciating personal uncertainty.”

Her final announcement, however, dispelled the more sober mood, and I burst out laughing. Her sense of the absurd was delicious. And it was hard not to be charmed by her recklessness – another trait we shared, but I suspected I manifested it rather less endearingly. “That sounds like an invitation to wrong you and get away with it,” I said, giving her the sort of wicked look I usually reserve for the assignation chamber.

[Naia Shahrizai]

I wondered if he might be right about the price of peace, but to be honest, I had grown tired of the struggles my impetuous behavior had caused me. There were so many times I had cried myself to sleep, so many times I had fought, kicking and screaming, with anyone who came close to me. Then again, there were many times that my behavior had led to amazing friendships, hilarious situations, and in the birth of my son. Maybe Daniel had something here...

The look he gave me then, it made me shiver despite the heat. I hadn't really thought that I would ever revisit Mandrake House, but ... no, no, that would be unwise. Which, of course, made me want to suggest it right this minute, though I wasn't quite so forward as all of that. Not with one such as he, anyway.

"Well, if there were ever a time to wrong me, I guess now is it," I quipped with a grin, "but I'll thank you to keep that tidbit to yourself, there are certain people that would really like to wrong me!" In point of fact, it was rather disheartening that several faces flashed before my eyes as I spoke.

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

She shivered, though it wasn’t particularly cold, and I felt a sudden prickling of awareness travel across my skin, raising the hairs on my exposed forearms. Yes, we were relative strangers, speaking like old friends, but I also caught more than a hint of other possibilities. Of course, it’s just a habit of mine – perhaps a bad habit – to flirt cheerfully with anything that moves, and Naia clearly had a playful streak of her own so perhaps this was just hints and glances, a pleasurable frisson but no more.

My mind turned a little restlessly through our conversation. Shahrizai: that would be quite a coup. Impoverished Shahrizai: less so. Oh to hell with it. I’m not a Bryony. Must one run every encounter through an accounting book?

The other problem, one that has long afflicted me in fact, is that I have no idea how to blend the Mandrake with the flirt. They teach you, naturally, how to win patrons with severe glances, cold eyes and dark promises but I simply can’t take myself that seriously, at least not when there isn’t a blade in my hand. I tried it a bit when I was making my debut – the nadir, perhaps, being the occasion when a noble, whose yielding tendencies are well known, actually laughed in my face. He apologised afterwards, but still. I’ve never worked out how to move seamlessly from “I kind of fancy you” to “I want to hurt you in a good way.” And the truth was I was coming to like Naia far too much to make a hilarious botch of it.

Even if I did kind of fancy her...

It was that smile, and those blue eyes. I’m as helpless as any chained Valerian to resist a pair of pretty eyes. Err. Not that I want to keep them in a jar or anything like that. It’s not the creepy sort of admiration.

Oh Kushiel, I was supposed to be talking to her, not speculating how to get her into my bed (or my dungeon). I tried to look like I had been merely been listening, although I’d slightly lost the threads of what we were talking about and I was afraid it was obvious.

“Who would want to wrong you?” I asked, a little surprised that someone some years younger than me could have apparently accrued so many enemies.

[Naia Shahrizai]

I seemed to lose him for a few moments, and in those moments I could see the Mandrake in him, and I realized for the first time that being a Mandrake didn't mean not being a person, with a diverse personality and all that that entailed. I saw them all as a monolithic representation of their House, but that was just as silly as the way I was oft judged for being a Shahrizai. Still, there was no denying that those things were part of what made us who we were and right now, I could feel the aura of command and control and something darker just beneath the surface. And I wasn't afraid of it, not really.

"Oh, well, you would be surprised," I heard myself saying, and then I had to force my attention back to the topic at hand. Strange how we both seemed to wander off the precipice of our desires at the same time. "I have made a few enemies here and there, or even friends that might enjoy getting away with a wrong or three. Hell, if it were me, I would take advantage of that myself. Imagine the sorts of things you could do, if all were forgiven?"

[Daniel nó Mandrake]

Oh to hell with it. I seem to be thinking that a lot. Thinking it and not acting on it.

I mean, what was the worst that could happen? She could push me in the fountain. Or send her family after me with pitchforks. That would be a lot of pitchforks. And Ignace might roll his eyes at me. Again. Since I do seem to have a genuine inability to get interested in anybody wealthy. Only other adepts, and random people I met in the street. What next? Shop-keepers? Beggars?

I'm downwardly mobile, that's the problem.

I can't seem to find it in me to regret it though.

We'd been sitting on the fountain rim very companionably, but now I leaned in, letting my shadow fall over her. I kept a smile on my lips because I didn't want her to think I'd gone suddenly nuts, but I was still conscious of a thread of tension running all the way through me. I wasn't mad keen on ending up in the fountain. I reached a out a hand, and not entirely gently followed the curve of her cheek with the nail of my index finger.

“I'm quite practised at wrong-doing,” I murmured, “so forgiveness tends not to be required.”

[Naia Shahrizai]

All around us the Square hummed with activity: mothers walked by with children at their skirts, older children ran carelessly around the fountain, splashing at each other when they could, shoppers strolled leisurely past, laden with their wares. Yet, suddenly, there was no one there but Daniel and I and the sudden rise in tension between us. I was no stranger to it, indeed I think I had felt drawn to him because of it, because of who we were and everything that came with it. I was curious, too curious, and self-destructive at times, and the combination could be fascinating when it worked in my favor. Devastating when it didn't, but I wasn't entertaining that idea just now.

I drew in a sharp breath when Daniel ran his fingernail over my skin, not terribly sharply but sharp enough, and for several heartbeats I had no idea what to say. My heart was racing and it occurred to me that it had been far too long... far too long since Kendrick had left, and far too long since anyone but he had touched me. It hadn't been intentional, and I suddenly realized that it wasn't something that was going to work for us.

"I imagine you are," I murmured, forcing my heart to stop beating so erratically as I mentally counted coppers while simultaneously trying to talk myself out of doing something that would either be wildly exciting or a terrible disaster. If only I could tell in advance which it would be...

"I imagine that you hear more people begging for forgiveness than you can count, so if you had to do it, you would probably do it quite well." I tried not to imagine it, both of those images equally intriguing and I was torn for a moment between the desire to yield to him and the desire to bend him to my own will. It was frightening and intoxicating and suddenly this little fountain-side chat had become infinitely more interesting.