Chapter 4: Learning to Blend

Jamila sat behind a dark wooden desk in a large open room flooded with light. Three arched windows stretched nearly the full height of the wall behind her. Though they were the room's only true source of sunlight, they illuminated the space with warm light.  Aides moved briskly between tables organizing documents while maids tidied quietly along the edges of the room with practiced ease.

Jamila glanced toward the clock and let out a soft sigh. There was still far too much to do. She lowered her gaze back to the papers spread across her desk. Two cargo ships had sunk. It was going to be far more difficult to reach the mainland for trade now. Not to mention quite the hit to their coffers.

A gentle knock broke her concentration.

She looked up to find her brother leaning against the doorway.

“You’re early,” Jamila remarked, crossing her arms as she regarded him.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Jaziel replied smoothly. “I assumed you’d be growing restless by now.”

He motioned behind him, and a moment later servants entered carrying trays of sweets and tea. They carefully arranged everything atop a small table near a plush couch before quietly excusing themselves. Jaziel took a seat and began pouring her a cup.

Jamila sighed, though a small smile tugged faintly at her lips.

“Alright, everyone… let's take a break,” Jamila said, redirecting her attention to the busy room before her.  The aides and maids bowed gratefully before filtering from the room. They were probably off to find some much-needed rest and a bite to eat.

Jamila rose from her desk and joined her brother on the couch, accepting the tea with a grateful nod. She took a slow sip, savoring the floral warmth spreading through her chest. A sigh escaped her lips as she melted into the soft couch.

“How go things?” she asked, glancing at her brother from the corner of her eyes.

“I sent scouts to inspect the wall,” Jaziel began. His tone shifted into something less playful. Jamila couldn’t help but pout but listened despite herself. 

“Several sections have started to erode. They’re requesting artisans to begin repairs.” He finished as he buttered a biscuit and took a small bite. Jamila considered this briefly before setting her cup aside.

“No. That won’t be necessary.”

Jaziel blinked, the biscuit still in his cheeks making him look rather like a squirrel. He swallowed quickly.

“Won't be necessary? What if those Thornbloods decide to cross?” he asked, his tone sharper now.  Jamila chose to ignore the slur today. She had neither the patience nor the energy to begin that argument again.

“They had no trouble crossing when the wall was brand new,” she replied evenly. “The wall has always been more for comfort than practicality.”

“Yes, but-”

“And besides,” she continued, lifting her cup once more, “we had a drought this year and lost two supply ships. We need to conserve as much as possible before winter.”

Jaziel’s jaw tightened, though he held his tongue.

She wasn’t wrong. The summer heat had been relentless. Nearly fifteen percent of their crops had withered, and the storm that swallowed two trade ships had only worsened matters. Their resources were thinner than they had been in years. Many fanatics claimed Dewh and Astra were angry. The thought made him scoff. 

He would drop it, for now.

“It’s going to take a lot of time and money to replace those ships,” Jaziel muttered with a quiet sigh as he brought the tea to his lips.

“Yes…” Jamila murmured, her eyes distant.

“What if we entered negotiations with the Sullivians and used their trade routes?” she murmured, more to herself than to Jaziel. 

Jaziel set his tea down harder than intended. The sharp clink echoed through the room, bringing the young empress's attention back to the young man beside her. 

“Absolutely not. Besides, how could we even know they have trade routes?”

“They do.” Jamila took another sip of tea as though the matter were obvious. Jaziel stared at her, confusion flickering briefly across his face at her certainty. Then bitter understanding crossed his features.

“Right… of course they do…” He mumbled under his breath. His tone was bitter.

“Well despite that…” he continued, slipping back into the composed tone expected of an aristocrat.  “it would still be dangerous to send our envoys through the forest.”

“I’m sure we could figure out a way.” Jamila countered.

“And what if they decide to betray us?” Jaziel retorted. 

“They wouldn’t.” Jamila’s tone remained calm, but her eyes hardened slightly. “They would never do something so underhanded.”

“Oh, so you are willing to bet my knight's lives based on a feeling?” He hissed. “Need I remind you that the last Sullivian chieftain was a blood-hungry madman?” Jaziel said. His tone was higher than he would normally like.

“And need I remind you that our father was no better!” Jamila hissed in response. Jaziel's eyes widened. The siblings stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Then, almost simultaneously, they released matching exhausted sighs.  Jaziel ran a hand through his white locks while Jamila fiddled with the ends of hers. After finally collecting himself, he turned to look at her once more.

“I cannot give my full support without first meeting the Thorn—” He stopped abruptly as his sister’s eyes narrowed.

“The chieftains,” he corrected stiffly before reaching for a cookie and taking an absentminded bite.

A visible shudder ran through him, his face twisting slightly. It was far too sweet. Smiling to herself, Jamila reached over and stole the rest of the cookie from his hand. She bit into it, deciding to let the matter rest for now. There was no need to agitate him further. 

“I’m thinking of taking Shani into town tomorrow,” Jamila said, trying to change the subject as she reached for another cookie. “I want to see how the people are doing.”

A small smile tugged faintly at Jaziel’s lips at the sight of her sweet tooth. Some things truly never changed.

“I’m not sure that would be wise,” he replied carefully. “The princess is still learning etiquette.”

“I’m sure she’ll do fine,” Jamila said easily, nibbling at the edge of the cookie. “She’s still a child. She doesn’t have to be perfect.”

She smiled faintly as she reached for another sweet.

“Besides…” she added with complete confidence, “she’s my child. Etiquette should come naturally.”

Jaziel let out a quiet breath of amusement despite himself.

Jamila? Skilled at etiquette? The faded scars they both carried proved otherwise. His had come from trying to defend her. 

So the thought that Shani, child of a Thornblood and his unruly sister, might somehow excel where Jamila had failed felt almost laughable.

Still…

Perhaps it was best she learned that lesson the hard way.

“No, no, no. That is incorrect!”

Nimue’s voice cracked sharply through the room. A thin practice rod in her hand smacked against Shani’s lower back. Shani straightened instantly.

“But… I’ve been standing forever…” Shani whined. Another quick tap of the practice rod landed against her backside.

“And ladies do not make excuses,” Nimue retorted.

Shani rubbed at her backside, trying to ease the sting. Frustration and determination warred inside her.  If Nimue wanted a lady, Shani would give it to her. She clasped her hands neatly in front of her and lifted her chin, trying her best to imitate the way her mother stood when greeting people.

Another tap landed against the top of her head. Shani rubbed at the sore spot with a small glare.

“Too high.”

Shani blinked at her in disbelief. “Mama stands like that all the time! ”

Nimue let out a sigh. “Your mother is the Empress. She is afforded certain privileges.”

She adjusted her own posture, demonstrating.

“You are a young lady. When a man greets you, your head must remain lowered.”

Shani’s shoulders sagged.

“I’m taller than most kids my age, so why do I have to look down at them?” she mumbled. Another sharp tap landed against her backside.

“Quiet is fine, mumbling is unbecoming,” Nimue corrected. Her pale blue eyes staring down at the young girl with disapproval. 

Shani sighed.

“But I’m an only child… wouldn’t that make me the future Empress?” she asked. Her face was full of confusion. “Don’t I get privileges too?” 

"You are a girl," Nimue replied sharply. Shani felt herself shrink beneath the comment. 

“Mom’s a girl too…” Shani mumbled once more and realization dawned. She saw Nimue bringing the stick down and quickly covered her head. Her hands stung with the sudden force.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to mumble…” Shani replied. Nimue sighed and lowered the rod in front of herself.

“Her Majesty is still young. She will remarry.” Nimue explained. “And when she does she will give birth to a male heir.” Nimue turned her attention away from Shani and towards her crystal bracelet. A sour look crossed her wrinkled face.

“She must…”

Her voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper.

“A male Gildan heir is needed…”

The words slipped past most ears, but not Shani’s. The pointed tips of her ears twitched faintly at the words.

Gildan heir? But aren’t I also Gildan? Shani thought to herself. The words were confusing but something about them made her feel sad. Besides… Shani knew her mother loved her dad. So could her mother actually marry another man? Then a thought came to her.

“What if Mama married my dad?” Shani blurted. Her face was bright with possibilities.

“Then Mama and Dad could have a boy! And I could have a brother!” She said and she fiddled with her tunic.

“And since it's Mama's son  he would also be Gildan like me!”  Shani continued, her mouth running faster than her brain could keep up.

“AND~! Then forest people and us could be friends!” She finished. A proud look crossing her features. 

The blood drained from Nimue’s face. She dropped to her knees and quickly covered Shani’s mouth, her eyes darting around the room in alarm. For a moment, all Shani could hear was her own breathing.

Caelis sat nearby with a book in his lap, too absorbed in reading to notice. Nimue exhaled a shaky breath.

But they were alone. 

“Shani,” she said quietly, dropping all formalities. Her hand clasped over the child’s mouth longer than necessary. “That cannot happen.”

Her eyes locked onto the young princess. Shani stared at Nimue for a moment, Her lavender eyes blinked with confusion. Nimue finally released her. Shani couldn’t help but stretch her mouth.

“And you must never say something so senseless again.” Nimue said, standing to her feet and staring down at the young princess. Her eyes were cold, but something anxious flickered behind them. 

“But why? Wouldn’t it be goo—”

“Never again,” Nimue warned, raising a single finger to silence her.

“You understand, don’t you?” she asked again. Her tone was much more affectionate than it had been. Shani bit her lip and stared at her feet anxiously. She wanted to understand… but she also didn’t want Nimue to get more upset. After a moment she nodded.

Nimue smiled too quickly before patting her gently atop the head. Her touch was warm against Shani’s pale curls. Shani couldn’t help the smile that flashed across her face.

“Well, I think your progress for today has reached its limit… So why don’t we look at theology instead?” Nimue suggested pleasantly. Shani’s face dropped. She hated theology. It was always so boring, and it wasn’t like the Gods were real. At least… she had never seen one.

Nimue noticed the look on her face and frowned.

“Ladies do not wear their emotions so openly,” she said with another weary sigh.

“Jamila was much easier to train…” she muttered under her breath, clearly expecting no one to hear.

Shani heard. Shani's smile slowly disappeared.  Nimue excused herself to retrieve the theology books. Shani quietly moved to sit beside her cousin, pulling her legs tightly to her chest.

Am I really so much worse?

Nimue’s words circled endlessly through her mind.

She had to do better.

She couldn’t embarrass her mother.

“She shouldn’t hit you,” Caelis said quietly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

“It’s okay!” Shani insisted with a bright smile. “She only does it because she cares. Besides… I mess up a lot.”

“Still doesn’t make it right,” he replied, returning his attention to his book.

Shani just shrugged. Caelis didn’t have to worry about making everyone happy all the time. He only had to make his mother happy. She envied his simple life sometimes.

Shani leaned her head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. A male heir. Her mother remarrying. The fear in Nimue’s face at the mention of her father. How useless Shani seemed to be…  Maybe tomorrow she’d do better.

Then, as if the day had simply been waiting for the perfect moment to wound her further, the memory from the hallway resurfaced.

At least she looks acceptable and not like those prick-ears.

The woman’s laughter echoed through her mind. The strange tightness in Shani’s chest returned sharper than before. She still did not fully understand what prick-ears meant, but suddenly, terribly, she knew it had something to do with her.

Her hand slowly drifted upward toward her ears, tracing the hidden points concealed beneath the illusion.

Would she be better if they were round?

Would she be less useless?

And for reasons she could not explain, she suddenly wanted to cry.

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

Dinner came and went without memory, voices dissolving into a soft, distant hum. By the time she noticed anything clearly again, she was already in her nightgown, the bracelet finally removed.

Shani let out a small sigh of relief. The bangle didn't hurt, but it always made her feel... wrong. Still, her mother always insisted, and she didn't want to trouble her. 

Shani fiddled with the pale sheets as Jamila slipped into bed beside her and pressed a gentle hand against the girl's forehead. Jamila's face was etched with concern. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dawn?” she asked softly, comparing Shani’s warmth against her own. The young girl nodded.

“I’m okay…” Shani murmured. Then silence settled heavily over the room. Jamila nibbled at her lip. 

"What did you learn today?" Jamila asked after a moment, trying to fill the silence. 

“Our patron God… Noxis,” Shani answered quietly. Jamila nodded as she began running her fingers through her daughter's dense curls. Soft, melodic hums drifted from the young empress's lips. 

“Mama… if Noxis is the God of night and protector of women and children… shouldn’t the men be the ones staring at the ground instead of us?” Shani asked.

Jamila froze mid-hum as she processed the question. Her attention shifted from her daughter’s hair to the young girl herself. Her brows knitted together.

“That’s a diffi…”

“I mean… Noxis is our patron God, but we don’t even seem to like her!” Shani exclaimed, thoroughly confused. She leaned back against her mother’s warmth. Jamila couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped her.

“Why is that?” Shani pressed. “Why are boys better than girls?” Her lavender eyes met her mother’s from the comfort of Jamila’s lap.

“That’s a difficult question, love…” Jamila admitted softly. Her fingers resumed their gentle work through Shani’s hair.

“Noxis is our patron God because she protects what the world often tries to harm. Women. Children. The lost. The forgotten.”

Shani frowned slightly. “Then why don’t people listen to her?”

Jamila smiled faintly, though sadness lingered behind it.

“People are very good at loving the parts of faith that benefit them,” she said softly. 

“The difficult parts are easier to ignore.” Jamila's voice grew quieter with each sentence. Shani thought about her mother’s words carefully for a minute.

“That’s weird.” 

Jamila let out a quiet laugh beneath her breath. 

“Adults tend to be.” 

“Do you believe in her, Mama?” Shani asked, leaning her head back to stare at her mother, making it impossible to mess with her curls. Jamila stilled for a moment thinking over the question carefully.

"I think so," Jamila admitted with a sheepish smile. "It's comforting to have someone to pray to... especially when you feel lost." Jamila cupped Shani’s face and gave her a small peck between the young princess’s brows. Shani couldn’t help the laugh that managed to escape.

Relief then washed over Shani. She could always talk to her mother without being scolded. Jamila always answered her honestly, fairly. Shani loved that. Then another question drifted into her mind.

“Mama…” Her fingers fumbled nervously.

“What is a prick-ear?”

Jamila froze. The softness in her expression sharpened instantly into something furious before she forced it back down. Shani noticed the change. The princess swallowed hard, sudden regret raging within her.

“Who told you that word?” Jamila asked. Her voice was level, calm. It sounded like she usually did but there was something behind the words that made Shani anxious. Shani shrank slightly at the sound of it. She had never heard her mother speak with that tone before.

“I… I don’t know. I just heard someone say it this morning…” she admitted quietly. Jamila watched her silently for a long moment before drawing in a slow breath. She adjusted until she could see Shani face to face once more, and gently took the young girl's hands.

“It’s a cruel word,” she said softly, gently  stroking the back of Shani’s hands. “Used by cruel people.”

She reached up and cupped the princess’s cheek. Shani leaned into it. Jamila’s thumbs brushed softly against the pointed curve of Shani’s ears. Jamila’s lips became a thin line.

“If you hear it again… you ignore it, understand?” Tears burned in Jamila’s eyes. Shani’s own eyes widened as she watched one finally slip down her mother’s porcelain cheek. She immediately wrapped her arms tightly around Jamila’s neck.

“Don’t cry… I’m okay, Mama.”

Jamila let out a soft uneven breath and pulled her close. She stared down at the little girl in her arms. She was trying to comfort her daughter, but somehow Jamila felt comforted instead.

She let out a shaky breath. She needed to pay closer attention. Words were spreading beneath her nose. And she would make them stop. After a long moment, Jamila pressed a kiss to the top of Shani’s head and stroked her curls until the trembling in her own hands finally eased.

Jaziel arrived at his estate just as the sun began sinking beneath the horizon. It was a simple white building in town but the flags of the royal family hung from the windows. People were finishing up work as he entered the building. With a heavy sigh, he shrugged off his cloak and handed it to a waiting maid before collapsing into a nearby chair.

Exhaustion clung to him. He had spent hours discussing state affairs with Jamila long after their tea had ended, and still she had refused nearly every one of his suggestions. Raising taxes during a drought would burden the people too heavily. Forcing children into labor for additional income was just cruel.

She used to listen to him eagerly. When did she become so difficult? Who had changed her into this? Sometimes he had a hard time seeing the girl he grew up with. Another sigh escaped as he draped his arm over his eyes.

“You worked hard…” A soft voice drifted from the doorway. Jaziel glanced up. A young woman stood there framed in the fading light.

Her hair fell in straight silken strands the color of finely spun rose gold. Freckles dusted much of her pale complexion, and her eyes, so blue they looked carved from glacier ice, watched him with quiet concern.

She wore only a simple white nightgown, plain compared to the finery of court, and yet she looked almost painfully lovely in it. Behind her lingered a small figure, half-hidden.

“Thank you… Iselle,” Jaziel said after a moment, rubbing a hand down his face, straightening slightly. 

“Are you hungry? I could have a…”

“No, thank you. I just need some rest.” He interrupted. Iselle nodded. Caelis peered at Jaziel carefully from behind his mother’s skirt. Jaziel's gaze shifted to him.

Seeing him cowering behind Iselle left much to be desired. He was much too quiet, weak, and hesitant for his liking. He must have gotten it from Iselle because Jaziel surely wasn’t like this at his age. He rubbed at his temple. He needed to fix that as well, it seemed.

“How was your day, Caelis?” he finally asked. Iselle gently encouraged the boy forward. Caelis spoke hesitantly at first, before gradually relaxing as he described  his lessons, the books he had read, the things he had memorized.

And then… Shani and Nimue. Jaziel’s attention sharpened instantly.

“Nimue grabbed the princess?” he asked.

Caelis nodded. For a moment, Jaziel said nothing. Nimue was Jamila’s former nursemaid, nothing more. And yet here she was correcting royalty, speaking of remarriage, heirs, and what Jamila must do. The whole thing sat wrong in his chest.

His sister mustn’t do anything. She decided what others must do. His thoughts began turning slowly, deliberately. He remembered the whispers from years ago. While he had been away, Nimue had never once left Jamila’s side. Not once. His expression darkened.

Iselle shifted uncomfortably. Caelis looked back at his mother, concern flicking across his features. Her eyes had gone distant. Caelis carefully grabbed her hand. A moment later, she looked down at her son.

“Please excuse us…” Iselle said with a small bow of her head pulling her son closer. Jaziel waved an approving hand, Iselle and Caelis slipped from the room quietly. Jaziel barely noticed.

“Perhaps…” Jaziel murmured quietly, “I should speak with Nimue tomorrow.” A quiet edge lingered in his voice. His stare had gone distant, cold.

While Jamila toured the town… he would get to the bottom of this.