Thunder was teasing everyone with its rolling buzzes, but rain didn't come just yet. Inka opened a curtain in her palanquin so she could take in more of the energizing air.
Across from her, Jorun asked, "How do you think she'll react?"
"I'm not certain." Inka closed the curtain and leaned back in her plush seat.
The palanquin was set down at the entrance of Princess Lataa's apartment. Jorun asked one of the bearers to hold a package while she knocked on the doors. Princess Lataa's nervous attendant answered, and Jorun asked, "Is your mistress available? Princess Inka has a present for her. She hopes she can be forgiven for not sending a letter in advance."
"Oh, I'm certain there's nothing to forgive," the attendant said with a deep nod of her head. "Please come in."
The reception room, and many rooms overall, looked oddly ... sparse ... as if many pieces of furniture and decorations had been taken away. It also smelled like smoke. Inka wasn't sure what to think. She'd assumed Princess Lataa liked owning her pretty things and wanted to show them off. What little she knew about the woman suggested quite a materialistic personality. Her husband and other family members here didn't speak of her often, but when they did they said things like, "Oh, she's a coddled child. Yes, we love her so, but we might've loved her too much. On some months, she depletes her allowance, but demands more."
Lataa and showed up soon. Inka couldn't help but see that while the attendant knelt, Lataa didn't. Ignoring that fact, Inka asked the attendant to rise and then told Jorun to hand the package over. "I asked my cook to experiment with some recipes from my homeland. She succeeded with some."
Princess Lataa's attendant opened the package for her mistress' oddly sour eyes. Lataa's mouth looked as if she'd been sucking on something far too bitter, and her nose looked like it was in pain. Inside the package, there were round and boiled dumplings made of barley flour and potatoes, a small bowl of oat porridge that had been sweetened with honey, wrapped blood sausage that had some oats mixed in, and a serving of mashed potatoes with slices of pickled vegetables.
With a light huff of a breath, Princess Lataa said, "Put it away."
A maid hurried to take the food away from the attendant.
The princesses sat on cushions and they were served light crackers. Inka was the one to begin the conversation. "Young Miss Lataa, all this time has passed, and we haven't enjoyed each other's company often." She reached over to put her palm on the back of one of Lataa's limp hands.
One corner of Lataa's red lips jerked up then back down.
"And I firmly believe," Inka said, "that in order to have a successful marriage, I should socialize with as much of my husband's family as I can."
Something nearly pleased folded around Lataa's eyes. She smiled at Inka and told her, "We certainly should have our time together." She demanded a maid come and play music for her guest while they enjoyed card games.
It wasn't a bad time. Lataa was a stubborn, rash player. That made the games easier to win yet also more entertaining.
When Lataa swept the cards off the table, ordering a board game, Inka smiled and nodded. That game went on for a while, but Inka pretended to struggled and gave Lataa the victory. Lataa's response to the end was self-applied applause. She soaked up congratulations from her attendant.
Inka never bothered Lataa about the tapestry she'd given her. She didn't know where it was, but she decided it wasn't important. Lataa could've shredded the tapestry for all Inka cared.
And it turned out that keeping Lataa entertained was simple. Flatter her, let her win games, and just let her think she was in charge of most things.
In fact, Inka was able to stay in Lataa's apartment for many hours. She even had lunch and dinner there. It was almost dark by the time Inka rose and said she wanted to go home.
On the way back, Jorun rather passionately asked, "Could we visit Her Highness again soon?" One of her hands was on her heart. The other was on her cheek. Her eyes were sparkling.
Inka laced her fingers over her lap as tiny, happy little wrinkles showed in the corners of her eyes. "As long as Her Highness is willing, I'll go to her or let her come to me."
The morning after that, Nitishila visited Inka. When she told him that she'd tried to be more friendly with Lataa, Nitishila merely shrugged. "You don't need to be friendly with her," he said. "Simply tolerate her the best you can."
"Wouldn't you prefer to have your wife and sister be good friends?" Inka asked as she put a hand on one of Nitishila's arms.
He turned to smile at down at her. "I don't know if it's even possible, but if you can manage it, then you'll have my admiration."
What a lovely thought!
***
Charcoal, smoke, grilled meat, earth, and silk all put their scents in Jaya's nose. They were all so strange when put together.
She was sitting at a small, outdoor dining table on a stone balcony that gave her a breathtaking view of the mountains. Across from her, her husband, King Arni was cutting into a chunk of venison. He was tall with shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes, generally fine enough to look at.
"You should gain more weight," he said after swallowing a bite. Then he wordlessly put some of his own food onto her plate. A few small boiled potatoes, some sections of his venison, and a few slices of boiled eggs.
Jaya had quickly learned that Arni preferred a woman with a fuller figure, pregnant or not.
"I'm grateful for your concern." Jaya put a fork to one of the potatoes, sinking the tines in. "I believe your sister is being given similar attention in Gehna."
Arni nodded with hard eyes pointed down at his plate. "I'd assume so."
The little potato was sliced in half without the need for a knife. "Nobody seems to want to discuss her. I can't even find a painting of her."
As if that wasn't strange at all, Arni replied, "After she left, it nearly became a rule."
Jaya's hair didn't move as she rose her head. Her hair was up in a tight, but well decorated coiffure with a small cap of velvet and lace. "What became a rule?"
"Keeping her name out of our conversations."
Blinking very slowly, Jaya put her fork down. "Why?"
"Hm?" Arni didn't look up. He chewed and swallowed more food. "Why do you care?"
"I'm beginning to wonder if she'd sinned against her country."
That statement was what made Arni put his utensils down and push his plate away with the side of his hand.
Seriously, he met her eyes.
And he told Jaya, "It's fair to say my feelings towards my sister are ambivalent."
***
It was one of the hotter days.
