Requests for meetings, meals, excursions filled her days, from a dizzying array of sources. Some seemed genuinely curious about life in the North, some her clothes, some her speech, some her knowledge.
In short, all seemed generally curious about her.
Initially she was guarded in her answers, cautious against revealing anything that might be of value, determined to emulate her father's stoic demeanour in the presence of those who were not part of the house.
But the enquiries she received remained polite, sometimes bordering on the inane. She almost longed for a question troop deployments, corn supplies or combat tactics, so she could proudly declare "I, Alicia, will not comment on such matters."
She began to relax after a while, even becoming fond of some of her acquaintances. Marianne, in particular, she felt -- hoped - was becoming a genuine friend, even though she could never quite shake the feeling the Veresuran girl was consistently amused by her on some level.
She hadn't seen much of Vivandrian or other members of the main house. They -- again, seemingly - kept to themselves mainly, and though she was dining with them every week, the conversation was the same inanity that she had become accustomed to.
It was very different to her life in Rivalt, where she had been more involved in decisions, and felt at the heart of matters. Here, despite having enough to fill her day, she felt extraneous, purposeless. Letters from home wouldn't arrive for months, and she didn't even have anything particularly of note to say when she sat down to try and write.
And then there was the belt.
She'd learned to adjust to it, in the main. Keeping herself busy, long walks, dancing practice and tasks kept her mind busy, and if she focused on them she could place it out of her mind.
Mostly.
Some nights the memories crept back, and the more she tried to push the thoughts away the more the tingles ran all over her body, caressing, pinching, depriving her of sleep and projecting images onto the inside of her eyelids.
One night Marianne invited her to the water baths after a dinner, again seemingly -- always
seemingly
, but maybe at this point that was paranoia -- offhandedly.
Alicia controlled her reaction, but inside her heart leapt. She'd long been curious about the water baths - they were a famous element of life here, said to be the jewel of the Veresuran palace; pools of various temperatures, in natural caverns carved into elaborate ornamentation.
She knew they were somewhat restricted in use, and she hadn't wanted to press on exactly how one gained access -- partly stubbornness, partly out of fear it would precipitate an unwanted invite from one of the elder relatives of Vivandrian, which would mean either rudely refusing or exposing her belt.
Still, she weighed the pros and cons. She was never going to be allowed to visit them solo. Marianne was the person she had felt closest to, and if her goal had been to embarrass her she'd had opportunity after their ... nocturnal escapades.
It didn't seem like there would be a better opportunity, so she agreed.
And partly -- she wanted to talk to someone about the belt. In some ways, it almost felt like a test of Marianne too -- was everything here a ruse? Or were they truly friends?
The entrance to the caverns was guarded, but they were waved through, both known enough. Inside it was mercifully empty -- they'd come at a late hour, though it seemed that servants were not common within.
Then came time to disrobe. Alicia tried to appear as nonchalant as possible. She felt Marianne's eyes on her, as the robes fell away.
"Admiring the craftsmanship?" The airy tone Alicia attempted to affect cracked slightly, betraying her.
There was a pause before Marianne replied.
"Not from over here," in her lilting tone, and Alicia felt a wave of tension break within her. She giggled.
"It's something members of our house wear before their betrothal when warded overseas." It wasn't technically a lie, but the omission was known to both. No-one from the house had been warded in living memory.
Marianne cocked her head. "Can you take it off?"
"No. It is well-crafted though, and easy to clean."
The questions ended, replaced with a quiet silence -- that lasted only until they entered the bathing areas.
The caverns were not ...
cavernous
, but what they lacked in size they made up for in ornamentation. The ceiling was low, and at times almost a crawlspace, dotted with stalactites and stalagmites merging floor to ceiling and back again.
These pillars had been carved and chiselled into reliefs, and there must be hundreds of them filling the caverns. She approached one, marvelling at the amount of detail that had been packed into the carving.
On one, vines adorned the pillar, twirling around the thicker top and bottom halves and making a slight connection in the middle. On the top, the Veresuran Sun symbol burned out from the dark red rock, and below a Veresuran female contorted her naked from, promising but not providing revelation.
"It's exquisite." The words came out despite herself.
"Yes," Alicia stated simply.
She paused, and then the familiar mirthful side awakened. "Though there's less naked women in the men's chambers."
The waters were perfectly warm, and she felt her muscles melt into them.
"You know," she said sleepily "it fascinates me how the heraldry is so casual here. In Rivalt, and Gast, it's an item of such pride. Here it can be emblazoned on armour, but also seems equally at home baked into bread."
Alicia smiled. "We don't see it so much as a herald, I think. The sun gives us everything here." She paused, and looked square at Mary-Anne. "I say this to you, as a friend. I think perhaps we are lucky. The sun makes our lives easier, perhaps, that in the North. It provides us warmth, so there is less need for shelter. It grows our food, so there is not so much pressure to harvest. Life is, perhaps, less complicated."
"Perhaps we should conquer you," Mary-Anne teased "lax, lazy, sun-loungers!"
