At the manor house, Honor threw the stiletto to Cordelia, she stabbed into a book on her lady's dresser as they both laughed in unison to the rain pelted the lead glass windows. Handmaidens buzzed around them both while Cordelia took the pearls threaded through Honor's midnight tresses, all the ladies were a buzzing furiously with curiousity about the newest edition to the royal court.
"Is he really your Majesty's brother?" they begged. "Is he engaged?" Giggles errupted from the pack.
Their mistress smiled and shook her head no, slipping out of her robe and waiting for Cordelia to untie her corset. Her denile got them twittering. The lovely confidante finished with Honor's hair and began working on the lacings of her corset, shushing the ladies to give their lady some peace. Josephine, the oldest of her attendants, opened the door to her bath bowing deeply before leaving the pair alone.
"Mistress. Are you seriously contemplating an arranged marriage for yourself or your beloved brother?" Cordelia sounded incredulous that Honor would liberate Vahn to only put him back in bondage. Marriage was not a word that she had ever heard her mistress use for herself, so Cordelia would not, could not imagine Queen Honor voluntarily surrender her divine sovereignity.
Pulling the chemise over her head, Honor did not answer the question immediately, stepping down into the pool and exhaled a relaxing sigh before completely submerging for brief moment. Rising out of the water, Honor gracefully leaned against the edge of the pool, black tendrils bleeding into the water. The lady sighed with the hint of meloncholy, "If the opportunity arose to be profitable, we would consider it."
She closed her eyes listening to the rain, contemplating the future. What sort of man would finally be her equal? Cordelia began washing her hair, massaging her temples. She stretched out her arms resting them on the edge feeling cautiously optimistic about Vahn's rescue. Part of her felt that he was too much of a renegade, she could remember how Vahn use to the first to climb to the top of the most dangerous ruins and dare the gods to bring him down. Honor laughed softly.
The lady raised an eyebrow, "Mistress?"
"Nothing." Honor waved a dismissive hand, leaned her head back into the water and rinsed the lather from her hair. A stray thought fell out of the blue: Vincent was. She frowned grabbing a wash cloth and scented soap, vigorously lathering her body as if to erase the memory physically. Irritated over her own momentary weakness, Honor hurried the rest of her bathing ritual foregoing her usual methodical care.
Use to her mistress's mecurial mood, Cordelia anticipated her glorious lady's whim, laid her lady's dress out, calling in her attendants. One handmaid was unfortnate enough to pull the Queen's hair in the process. Honor sucked in a breath and backhanded the poor girl soundly across the cheek. The attendant yelped, dropped to the floor and began to apologize profusely. She declared, "Get out! Everyone," her tone softed a fraction, "-except you Cordelia. You may stay."
The ladies could not get out fast enough, picking up the girl off the floor, to catch one last view of their beautiful, conflicted lady raise her hand to the window pane as if to touch something that was not there, dragging fingerstreaks against the cold glass. Cordelia gave her mistress a concerned look as she closed the door behind her. Was it a memory or an error in the Cosmic Tapsetry? The confidante could not say for sure.
Honor stared sightlessly out the window at something that could not be seen. The Queen's voice quietened to the merest whisper, "Cordelia. Find my brother. We must talk now. There could be...complications."
Cordelia nodded and bowed knowing that whatever her lady was seeing, it was holding her attention, "Yes, mistress."