"The Marquessa will see you shortly."

Six months and seven days in the Fields of Nil, and I'd been relegated to
cooling my heels in the well-appointed foyer of the n'Lochli Manor. Pulling off
my cherub-skin gloves, I clapped them against a thigh and cast my eye across the
elegant confines of the chamber. Little had changed in six months, all told -
the diamond glasses glittered as fiercely, the silk was as fine and soft to the
touch as the Lady whose pleasure I awaited.

Aridia n'Lochli had not left me long in the foyer the last time I'd visited,
though truth be told, I hadn't expected to be welcome as effusively as the Lady
had once done. Few letters and fewer words in each had told a story as effective
as any of her guildmates could spin. Truthfully, few of us who'd remained on Nil
expected any such mercies - especially from highborn viscanti, to say nothing of
a bard low in rank.

"Lord Tradian?" The low voice of the black-clad servant broke me from my
thoughts, and I looked up. "The Marquessa awaits you."

He led me slowly through the halls of House n'Lochli, eyes downcast as we moved
past bejeweled statuary and fine art. The opulence of the House had dimmed
little in recent years, although more and more spiderwebs, I noted, were
present in dim corners. Fewer servants walked the halls as well... the one that
led me, I noted, was masked rather simply, and moved with a distinct limp. My
lip curled faintly - so, the fortunes of the n'Lochli had waned somewhat.

And yet, she awaited within her receiving chamber, as brilliant and effusive as
ever. Robes of royal blue and sapphire flowed from her form like accursed water
as she moved forwards to take the formal kiss of greeting upon each masked
cheek.

"Sathered, it has been entirely too long!"

"And similarly to you, my Lady. You shine as brightly as ever, I see."

She colored prettily at the edges of her mask, a delicate violet. Her eyes,
however, were not entirely pleased - once warm, they were now a cautious,
narrowed violet to match the blush upon her face.

"You are too kind, Lord Tradian. Shall we sit and talk?"

Ah, yes, there would be much of talk. "Of course, Lady n'Lochli." She flinched.

Good.

We were seated, of course, upon gem-encrusted chairs, themselves covered in
silk. I reclined rather arrogantly, one booted heel across the other knee, back
against the uncomfortable chair. Clearly unsettled, the Lady's lips thinned as
she cast about for some method of conversation with which to engage me.

"Wine, my Lord?"

"Ah, no. I must not impair my senses - would you happen to have kafe brewed?"

She glanced uneasily at the arched window - dawn beckoned over Avechna's Teeth
- before turning her face once more to mine. "Kafe, of course. Ethed!"

The servant returned, limping. "My Lady?"

"Kafe for myself and the Lord Tradian."

"Yes, Lady, of course, my Lady."

He was nothing if not obsequious. The Lady cast about uncertainly for a moment,
then smiled politely. "It has been a long time, Sathered."

"Indeed, Lady. I see the fortunes of House n'Lochli have remained as glorious
as ever."

She was on her guard now... no flinch. Her lips curved in a thin, cold smile,
acknowledging the barb. "Indeed, as ever. And your fortunes, it appear, have...
also prospered."

"Oh, yes, quite." Fortunes. In brown traveler's wear, she could see little of
fortune. We were fencing, then. "Defense of sacred Nil is ever so."

She looked at me a bit oddly. "Sacred? Have you found a calling, then?"

"Mmm, of a sort. They say that the Fates call us all, eventually."

A brittle laugh. "Legion grant that it not be so, Sathered. Why, you are still
quite young!"

Twenty-three, if one may be precise, although I was sure I looked rather older
- and worn from the dust-storms of Nil. "You are too kind, my Lady n'Lochli."

"Oh, but I speak nothing but honestly, Lord Tradian!"

Of course, dear.

The kafe came then, steaming hot, with lumps of sugar and a fine boat of
frothing cream. The Lady all but leapt at the tray as the servant set it upon
the table between us, setting out the two mugs. "How would you like it
prepared?"

"Cream, no sugar, please." I watched her hands move gracefully across the tray,
pouring out the brown-black into the mugs, daintily pouring cream, and accepted
it from her delicate fingers, deliberately brushing the tips with my own. Her
eyes went a fair bit cold and darted off to the side. Leaning back, I sipped at
the coffee, smiling at her over the rim of the mug as she deposited several
sugar cubes and a fair amount of cream into her own kafe.

"I have missed conversing with you, Aridia... your letters have been sadly less
and less - I trust you've a competent valet delivering them."

Her smile grew uncertain, brittle. "You... understand that I have obligations,
of course?"

"Of course, dearest." No flinch. I should have to try harder. "Indeed, I am
quite well acquainted with your obligations - Lonnin spoke quite eloquently of
them."

She set her mug down with a click then, and folded her hands upon her lap. "You
know, then."

"Discretion was never your strongest point, darling."

"I'd rather you didn't..."

"Of course you wouldn't, Aridia, do you think me a fool? I'm quite aware of the
situation - the Grunts spoke quite freely of it. How could I not know?"

Her lips pursed beneath the bejeweled mask. "I had obligations to fulfil. A
bloodline to perpetuate."

"Which was of such concern before. No, Aridia, you expected that I should be
drown, or be impaled upon the sword of a Paladin. How unpleasant for you that I
should avoid such a fate."

She went dark purple then. "Legion below! Ethed! ETHED!"

He was in at a flash, bowing obsequiously. "My Lady!"

"Get this wretch from my sight!"

He advanced. I uncrossed my legs and lifted my eyes to his. "The Lady has spo -
erk!"

At midway between door and chair, he froze, eyes wide. A faint trickle of blood
worked its way over his trembling lips. Animalian noises, little more than a
whimper like that of a strangling puppy, came from his lips. To my side, I
heard Aridia gasp.

"I haven't finished with my kafe yet. Really, Aridia, you simply must find a
better quality of staff."

Her hand fluttered at her corseted breast, hovering above the restorative
amulet that hung at the notch in her throat. "Satheren, you really must...
must..."

I closed my eyes, inhaling the rich scent of the kafe - spiced with crotamine,
it was really quite delightful. It lent such a tang to the brew. "Crotamine and
oaths. We've been keeping rather more unpleasant company than Lonnin had
suggested, if you've sunk to tainting the kafe so."

"Ethed - overshot his obligation." She trembled then, delicately. "You are..."

"Immune, by the grace of Gravynia and the Lords of Stone." The crotamine really
was an excellent addition. "What was I to expect, then?"

"Morphite, and you would have been left within the Cathedral..." Her eyes, so
gloriously violet, once again glanced aside once more.

"Aridia." My voice was soft, coaxing. "Aridia, you need not lie to me."

She was shaking like a leaf. I suppose it had finally set in.

"I know about Vakeral. I know about the betrothal, the roses, the nights at the
opera where he paid court. I know about - before."

Her eyes went wide. "I never betrayed..."

"You did." I sipped at the last of the kafe reluctantly. Whatever Mistress
Jezebel's other talents, her kafe could not meet the luxurious requirements of
House n'Lochli. "You should take a care, Aridia. Your little friends in i'Xiia
do love to brag." I sighed, downing the last of the mug. "And further yet..."

A whisper, on the edge of my perception, and the ghost of a breath over my
neck, preparatory. But too long on Nil, and I knew - had been waiting,
actually, for Aridia's savior to be upon me. Shadowdancer, then, and not her
noble husband.

Up with a sudden jerk, and the impact with flesh was ever so satisfying. I
rose, clicking my tongue. Slumped at the floor, in little more than silken
robes, was a slender figure - an elfen, in fact. I stared down at him,
resisting the urge to clean my hands.

"Poor company indeed." I looked back up. Aridia was wide-eyed and pale coral.
Fear became her. Crossing to her chair, I gently plucked the silken mask from
her face, setting it aside in her lap. "Aridia, my dear, you need not lie to
me, ever. I always knew, my dear."

I stroked her cheek, cupping it in one bare hand, cracked and creased with dust
- though not of Nil. "I always knew." I repeated gently. "I was always your one
indulgence, dearest - the human lover, the viscanti noblewoman - and how
discrete you always tried to be, although the servants knew - surely they knew,
and talked."

Her pulse was like a bird beneath my palm, and I gave into the urge, burying my
face in her hair. She was crying now, and the scent of the salt mixing with kafe
and rose perfume was intoxicating. "Aridia, my love, my sweet thing. I was such
a good little toy, until I refused to break - you sent me so tearfully into the
Legion. Surely one of your guildmates scribed the letter that exiled me. And
yet..."

I withdrew, seizing a wrist in one tight hand. A small cry of pain from her
red-tinted lips, and the jeweled dagger fell to her lap with the mask. I
embraced her to me, pinning her hands against my chest. "And yet, word escapes
- I'm not so much of a fool that a bard sick on demon's moonshine and crowing
wouldn't attract my attention. Especially when he spoke of the coin he'd had
from n'Lochli to buy his singular talents."

Released, she crumpled against the chair, staring up at me with pleading eyes.
"Sathered, it's not... it wasn't..."

"Oh, but it was." Sighing, I cupped her cheek once more, stroking the angle of
it with my thumb. "Were you not fickle, were you not fair... I'd buy you red
roses..." A keening cry came from her lips then, pure terror. "Hush, darling,
hush."

I leaned in then, a brush of my lips against hers. And then, into her eyes I
went, down through the labyrinth of her mind - her fragile, terrified mind,
that beat at mine with all the force of a dove's wings, feather-light and
screeching. And there, in the depths - a mirror, where she sat, perfect,
bejeweled, and regal - the Lady.

With a single hand against the mirror, it was cracking, crumbling, and falling
to pieces. As I withdrew, slowly, leaving chasms in my wake, I felt her break -
and the light in her violet eyes was the last breath of her mind.

It has been seven months and seven days since I have returned from Nil. They
say the Lady n'Lochli was naked on the balcony of her manor this eve, to the
delight of the beggars and the little children. I saw her as they took her by
cart to Angkrag from the Tower - her fair form robed in blue, her hair a
tangled cloud about her head - her delicate wrists and ankles chained to the
cart.

"Kafe, Archmage?"

I took the cup from my servant. "Yes - I do believe I'll take it black."