>>6310975# # # # # #
Soralisa takes a long, thin breath.
She shivers, even in the eternal spring of the Holy Land. The chill of that time when Argia was taken away from them—when she was branded a heretic and carried away by Astoria for that sham of a travesty of whatever political play is going on…
… it has never left her.
Praying help.
Working helps more.
And as she slowly opens the hidden door, revealing a slender figure dressed in the simple clothes of a maidservant, helps even more.
“You have come,” she gasps, throwing herself at Rubida. The Maduan noble takes off the shawl covering her mane, now once more dyed its proper black.
“Hush, hush,” Rubida urges her. “Keep your voice down. Even the walls can grow ears, if Astoria wills it.”
“I missed you,” Soralisa explains, enjoying the feeling of being able to squeeze her, to hold her, to hug her. Her arms are almost back to their full strength. Praise the Sun-Birther. “Almost lost my mind once again. Do you have any news?”
Rubida pulls back, her hand reaching for Soralisa’s cheek to cup it with affection.
“None which may be worth sharing. None from the capital, either. Argia will have to go through the Trial of Gold, anyway. It’s been eight days since we have seen her… and no news at all.” A sigh. “What about you?”
“Ibardo is still held in Ansàrra’s palace.”
Rubida frowns, setting a finger over her lips. Soralisa wonders what kind of sharp thoughts are running behind her deep blue eyes. The blood of Anthìlia of old runs through her veins. So different from her. Soralisa’s family is little more than peasantry—and yet even one such as lofty as Rubida Dell’Obertengo is caught up in this gilded web Astoria has spun around all of them.
If the chance comes to show her <span class="mu-i">gratitude</span> to the Blessed Blind…
“We must assume is voluntary…” Rubida says, “Even if we manage to sneak this letter into his room, I wouldn’t be sure he would get out of it.”
“Not after we tell him everything that happened!”
“Keep your voice down,” Rubida sighs. “You are so full of energy. I envy you, I couldn’t sleep for a cycle. And coming here wasn’t easy either… Father is breathing down my neck night and day and I can’t keep calling in favors forever. Tell me you have something.”
“I… I think I might have.” She produces an envelope from her pocket, unfolding it with utmost care. Rubida’s eyes grow wide… and then she squints at the angled squiggles all over it. “What is this?”
[cont.]
