Room to Breathe

The courtesan recovered swiftly, setting the pot down upon the tray.

“And how do you like to spend your time, Princess, when you are not thwarting assassins?”

Morenna shrugged, avoiding meeting her eyes. “If you’re fishing for a conversation starter, that wasn’t it. I read, I do morning exercises to stay strong, I grow potted plants on my balcony. I am one of the most boring people alive, and that’s how I like it. It’s dull, safe, and peaceful, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’ll kill whoever makes it necessary to maintain my peace. It’d be better if people would stop making me kill them, but…oh well. Life’s hard.”

“Is that enough for you?” Rakkan asked before Jemiina could speak, leaning forward to frown at Morenna. He looked, for possibly the first time she’d ever seen, entirely serious. “That’s the life you want? That sounds so…small.”

“Really?” she retorted. “And what do you want out of life, that you think is so much more impressive?”

“Oh, I have no answer to that,” he said, his normal insouciance returning. “To be honest, sis, that’s kind of why I was so curious. I mean… Look, it’s not that I don’t know how lucky we are, to grow up rich and powerful. I’d like to think I’m not ungrateful. But it’s so…nothing, you know?”

Morenna frowned in confusion. “Nothing? I don’t follow.”

Rakkan shrugged, frustrated, and ran a hand over his dark blue hair, messing it up further. “It’s… Well, think about our parents. Or our father, anyway. He did something. He wanted something. Khellvain’s an asshole and not that bright, but do you ever think about the drive it takes to start out as just some goober up in the mountains and keep fighting and pushing until you’ve conquered the damn continent? These days he’s surrounded by scheming advisors who don’t care about anything but what they can get for themselves by leeching off the court, but… You can see some of what I’m talking about in the old guard. The ones still around who were part of Khellvain’s campaigns, before the Empire. Queen Tamara, Zaurgan… They’ve got that…that drive to them. A kind of hunger. I don’t understand it, and…”

He trailed off, looking away, while his sister and the courtesan watched him in surprise.

“I think I’d like something like that,” Rakkan finally said quietly. “A purpose. Something to push toward, to make everything seem like it has a point. I just don’t really…see anything.”

“Well…I’m not sure how much there is to be learned from the likes of them,” Morenna said uncomfortably. “You clearly understand what a piece of shit our father is. Zaurgan is a snake with a beard, and even the Queen… Look, I’m not saying my way of thinking is the only one, but it’s mine. I’m tired of people and I want to be left alone.”

“Zaurgan I understand,” he said with a wry smile, “but what’s your problem with Tamara? She seems cool. And you did finally come down out of your tower to save her from that assassin. I thought you must have some fondness for her.”

“Don’t get it twisted, I was saving the court from the consequences of the Queen being murdered. I never had much interest in Tamara personally, and besides… I just learned apparently she and Khellvain and my mother were a…a throuple before they settled down and he started collecting concubines. She wasn’t some bystander when he sent me to live alone in a tower, but someone who should’ve had a stake in preventing that.”

“That is…honestly disappointing,” Rakkan said, frowning deeply now. “It’s not like I was ever close to Tamara or nothin’, but she seemed kinda…admirable. Damn, though, what a shitty thing to do. If that’s your partner’s kid, that’s your kid—that makes her your mother in every way except by blood. We expect that kind of thing from Khellvain, but…”

“Sorry to tarnish your golden image of her,” Morenna drawled. “It’s not like it…haunts me or anything. I won’t say anything could justify what they did to me, but…you had a point, about the old guard. They had drive, I guess, but they also went through a lot. The Conquest was a ten-year war, and wars are brutal. Bloodshed on that scale twists and tears the core of what a person is. The things you see, the things you have to do… I don’t think anyone comes out of something like that without becoming some kind of monster, on some level. I don’t owe these people my respect after what they did, but I can’t find the energy to hate them, either.”

“Huh,” Jemiina said quietly. “You know, Princess, I think you’re even worse than he is.”

Morenna scowled at her. “In what possible way am I worse than Rakkan? Be careful how you answer.”

Jemiina didn’t seem frightened by the threat. “Well, the Prince sometimes talks like someone twice his age, but you… You know, Princess, I get to meet a lot of those war veterans you were talking about, and they’re just as you describe. Some of our clients made their fortunes during the Conquest, and they all have in common that something in them was damaged by it in a way that nothing seems able to heal. They come here because the fleeting peace we offer is the best they can hope for. It’s just so…uncanny, hearing a fourteen-year-old girl born right after the end of the war, repeating the exact perspective I’ve heard from so many scarred survivors. Just…what in the world are they doing to you kids up in that castle?”

“Oh, it’s great,” Rakkan said airily. “We eat all we want of the very best food, get to sleep on silk, we get the best education there is… And all the adults around us are either trying to curry our favor or sideline us to advance one of our siblings, so we’re never allowed to develop a full understanding of the reality around us, and can never trust anyone. And sometimes, just for funsies, people try to kill us! It’s great exercise, right, Renna?”

Morenna scowled at him, baring teeth.

“Mo-mo?” he tried again.

Her lips drew back in a truly feral snarl and an ugly sound emerged from deep in her throat.

“Right, not a nickname person,” Rakkan noted. “See, isn’t this great? We’re learning things about each other!”

Morenna stood abruptly. “I…need some air.”

She took a step toward the curtained doorway but Jemiina smoothly stood to intercept her.

“Please forgive the presumption, your Highness, but the House of Reprieve cultivates above all else its particular atmosphere. The other guests firmly expect not to have to interact with teenagers.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Rakkan assured her.

“But we can still provide you some breathing room,” Jemiina continued. “Would you care to see the rooftop gardens, Princess?”