If there was one thing Isyar and humans had in common, it was a love of art. Even if Isyar never made art anymore, they still appreciated it. But as humans still made art, it meant it was possible to see new art one had never seen before. That was one great thing about wandering human lands. Jorvanultumn had no idea when the painting he was looking at had been painted. It could have been last week, last year, a hundred years ago, or anything in between or beyond. But it was new to him.

It was its height that had first drawn him to it. It was hung high on the wall, just beneath the ceiling in the cubby Jorvanultumn was sitting in. It meant he could actually look at something while he was pretending to meditate. But there was more to it that kept him engaged in it.

On a surface level, it was a straight-forward painting, showing a sunrise over the docks of Quorge. It was pretty, but on first glance nothing deep. But there was more to it. First, whoever had hung it had chosen to do so over a window looking west. That might have been absent-mindedness or short-sightedness on the hanger’s part, but whatever the reason, it added a new layer to the picture: a sunrise occurring in the west or a sunset in the east.

Of course, none of that was likely the artist’s intention. It was a sunrise, as the docks of Quorge looked mostly east and not west at all. Still, there were other things that added layers, including the use of colour and angles to suggest a slightly less than idyllic scene. However, there was one thing in particular. There was something floating in the water between all the ships. It was a tiny shape, made even tinier by the painting’s height on the wall. Jorvanultumn could not be sure, but after looking at it for some time, he was reasonably certain it was a body.

Was that why the hanger had hung the painting so high? To hide its morbidity? But if that was a problem, why hang the painting at all?

Or perhaps Jorvanultumn was just interpreting the tiny spot incorrectly. Perhaps if he saw it up close, it would be clear it was not a body, but something else.

Maybe. But it was a way of passing time while he pretended to meditate in this thing that was called a cubby, but was really a decent-sized room, just located between two other larger areas.

The door to Horaz Belone’s rooms was nearby and just off to the side of the cubby, in easy sight of Jorvanultumn if he peered down a little and to the left. He could easily see anyone who came to Horaz’s chambers. More specifically, he could see if anyone came and spoke to Horaz’s valet, seeing as Horaz was not currently in his chambers.

Unfortunately, apart from a single servant who had done some dusting in the cubby, no one had come by in the hour Jorvanultumn had been here. This was going to be a potentially long wait, something he had known when he had agreed to stake out the valet, but he had not expected it to be a problem. While he did not especially enjoy it, he had done long stretches of meditating before. Indeed, it had been a useful way of passing long hours in the basement of Fra-Mecatl’s home. However, he could not actually meditate here, as he might miss something, and pretending to meditate was actually much harder than just meditating.

So he kept looking at the painting, trying to find new things in it as time crawled by.

Over the next hour or so, a guard passed by and some other servants. Then finally, he caught notice of someone through his peripheral vision by Horaz Belone’s door.

It was Hedromornasta.

“What are you doing here?” Jorvanultumn asked. Why would Hedromornasta be coming to Horaz Belone’s rooms? Or was he? He was not actually facing the door. He was facing Jorvanultumn. Perhaps her was simply passing and had stopped when he saw Jorvanultumn.

“I was going to ask you the same question,” Hedromornasta said.

“I am meditating,” Jorvanultumn said.

“That was what I came here for.”

“Why not meditate in your room?”

Hedromornasta scowled. “Why don’t you?”

“I don’t have a room,” Jorvanultumn said. “I’m using Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith’s room, and it is a busy place. As much as I love her, she is...not quiet.”

Hedromornasta smirked. “At least you’re using her proper name.”

“Since she’s not here and you are, I though it best to honour you.”

Hedromornasta scowled again. “I find it difficult to believe she would be honoured by you butchering her name.”

“She is human.”

Hedromornasta rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes, and they’re barbarians. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go find somewhere else to meditate.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “I understand. I can move if you like.”

“That would be kind of you. Thank you.”

Standing up, Jorvanultumn said, “I’ve been here awhile. I was about ready to move on anyway. You haven’t told me why you don’t use your room for meditating though.”

With a groan, Hedromornasta moved past Jorvanultumn and sat on the bench. “I don’t like my room. It’s too human. Everything is designed for humans. The bed is for humans. The chairs are for humans. All of them have backs. There are no stools or benches. I can’t be comfortable there. So I come here where there is an actual bench and it is quiet. Not many people pass through here.”

“I did notice that,” Jorvanultumn said.

“And I like that picture. It looks idyllic at first glance, but there is a body floating in the water. It’s an apt depiction of humanity, if you ask me.”

Jorvanultumn chuckled.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I was just contemplating that same picture and the body before you arrived.”

“I fail to see the humour in that, but fine, whatever.” Hedromornasta let out a long sigh. “I suppose if you want to finish your meditations here, you can. We can meditate beside each other. Just don’t disturb me.”

With a shrug, Jorvanultumn nodded, and sat down. There was just enough room for both of them if they faced each other so their wings did not get in the way. “Thank you. You know, if you asked Lady Anita Belone, she would probably acquire a bench for your room.”

Hedromornasta hissed. “And when am I supposed to do that? I barely have time to meditate, eat, and sleep, and I still don’t get enough sleep. I have to spend all my time babysitting Felitïa Asa Folith. Now, you agreed to be quiet and not disturb me.”

“Yes, sorry.” Jorvanultumn had always had difficulty communicating with Hedromornasta. Though Mikranasta had birthed both of them, Hedromornasta had always seemed so distant, like there was no relation between them at all. It was the gap in their ages. There were thirteen years between them. The two of them might as well have been from different generations.

They sat there in silence for a while. Jorvanultumn did his best to pretend to meditate and not look at Hedromornasta. Thankfully, Hedromornasta was actually meditating and not paying any attention to Jorvanultumn.

Perhaps he should leave. It was too awkward between them.

But then he would be giving up his real reason for being there. Zandrue would understand, he was sure, but nevertheless, he was reluctant to if he did not need to. Now that he was turned on the bench, he was actually directly facing Horaz Belone’s door. He was better off now than he had been before, except that Hedromornasta was right in front of him.

“You know I don’t question my diare’s decisions,” Hedromornasta said suddenly, “but I think it was a mistake to come here.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t,” Jorvanultumn said.

“I know. You must know I blame you.”

“I know.”

“If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have come here. I don’t like the influence you have over her. I am her siare, not you.”

“I know.”

“It’s not right.”

“I know.”

“Stop saying that.”

Jorvanultumn bowed his head. “Sorry. I’m just trying to indicate that I don’t want to argue with you.”

“You’re patronising me.”

“No, I’m—”

“You think you’re so much superior.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Well, I’m sick of it. You take advantage of my diare’s misplaced affection for you. You and your wingless friends ambush her to make her reverse her wise decision, and of course she gives in, because she always gives in to you.”

“And it worked.”

“Felitïa Asa Folith got lucky.”

“Are you done whining?”

Hedromornasta jumped to his feet. “Whining?”

Jorvanultumn jumped to his feet as well. “Yes, whining. It’s all you ever do. Mikranasta is allowed to have affection for others than just you.”

“She is my diare!”

“Yes, and she loves you dearly, as much as any diare has ever loved their siare. But that does not mean she is incapable of loving others as well.”

“She loves you too much.”

Jorvanultumn took a deep breath. He should not let this argument go on. “Perhaps I should go.”

With a scowl, Hedromornasta said, “No, I’ll go. I’m getting nothing out of my meditations right now, and I need to sleep.” He shoved Jorvanultumn aside and stomped off.

Jorvanultumn turned around and placed his left hand over his chest. “May the night be short, Hedromornasta.”

Hedromornasta did not look back. He just reached his hand behind him, his forefinger and pinky extended, while he stomped out of sight.

Jorvanultumn shook his head sadly, and sat back down on the bench. He should not be too angry at Hedromornasta. The young Isyar was clearly tired and stressed. And perhaps Mikranasta did show a bit more affection towards Jorvanultumn than was strictly proper.

With a sigh, he looked back up at the painting and returned to pondering the body in the water.

* * * * *

The dining room was busy, as people were arriving and pausing to have conversations before finding their seats. Jorvanultumn had only been to a couple of these dinners in the last week and a half that he had been staying with Sinitïa. He had a standing invitation to come every night, but he always felt out of place, so he usually stayed away. As he understood it, it was not unusual for people to miss some dinners and it was not seen as an insult, so he was content with simply showing up once in a while. He was here tonight because Zandrue had specifically asked him to attend so they could compare the results of their activities for the day, though he was unsure just how they were supposed to discuss such things with so many others present.

Anita Belone sat at the head of the table with her mother to her left and Nin-Akna to her right. While there were a few other people already seated, most others in the room were standing in small groups having conversations. Although Jorvanultumn had seen a few of the people here before, he did not recognise most of them. Indeed, there were more people here than he had seen at any previous dinner he had been to, and it appeared that the usually mostly empty table would be mostly full. Perhaps Zandrue hoped to use the larger number of people as cover for their conversation, yet if so, Jorvanultumn was still unsure why they could not have just met somewhere where there were not other people around.

Zandrue was currently talking to Horaz Belone by a smaller table along the wall of the room farthest from Anita’s spot at the main table. Plates of fruits and pastries covered the smaller table, and Zandrue picked up a pastry with one hand as she motioned Jorvanultumn over to them.

Jorvanultumn made his way through the room, nodding to Felitïa and Mikranasta, who were amongst one of the larger groups of people. More accurately, Felitïa was surrounded by five other people all trying to speak to her at once while Mikranasta stood a little to the side, the humans avoiding her.

It was a little surprising, honestly. In his time in Arnor, Jorvanultumn had usually had humans flocking to be near him, seeing Isyar as beings to be in awe of. Yet people did not do that with Mikranasta. It was probably because people in the palace were more familiar with Isyar. Jorvanultumn had not really dealt with it himself in the palace. There had been an Isyar residing here for many years, after all. Still, he could not recall people outside paying much attention to Mikranasta, either, other than to stay out of her way. He did wonder if perhaps she was using magic to keep people away from her.

I am surprised to see you here, Mikranasta said in his head as he passed.

I try to attend occasionally. Plus, Zandrue asked me come.

Mind if I listen in?

I doubt Zandrue would like that much.

Then don’t tell her.

I am not comfortable with that idea.

“Jorvan!” Zandrue said as he approached. “You’ve met Horaz Belone, haven’t you?”

Very well, Mikranasta said. I will not intrude, though please fill me in later.

Of course. Jorvanultumn smiled at Zandrue and Horaz Belone. “Yes, briefly, though we have not had an opportunity to speak.”

“It’s good to see you, Jorvan.” Horaz Belone leaned over in the manner of Folith nobles to greet him.

Anita Belone, her mother, and others had greeted him in this way several times in the last week, and Jorvanultumn always felt uncomfortable with it. It was too intimate for people he barely knew, but he allowed it. Unlike Hedromornasta, he was willing to adapt to human customs when amongst humans. He leaned up and exchanged kisses to the cheeks with Horaz Belone. “It is good to see you as well, Horaz.”

“Ah!” Horaz said with a grin. “Not going to insist on reciting my entire name, like your mother does every time?”

Jorvanultumn shook his head. “I am more accustomed to human tradition than Mikranasta is.” He refrained from correcting the use of the word mother. After all, from a strict definition standpoint, it was an accurate word, even if it did not reflect Isyar tradition. These were human lands after all.

“It must make conversations difficult—and long—if you Isyar always insist on saying everyone’s full name.”

“It adds no more than a few seconds to a conversation,” Jorvanultumn said.

“Plavistalorik always did it, too, though thankfully, she rarely spoke, so it wasn’t as noticeable.”

Jorvanultumn nodded back and did his best to smile as well.

Zandrue held a pastry in front of his face. “You have to try these pastries, Jorvan. They’re to die for.”

Thankful for the distraction, Jorvanultumn took the pastry with a smile. “Thank you, Zandrue.” He bit into it. It was filled with a sickly sweet cream and he coughed slightly at the surprising intensity.

Horaz laughed. “See, Zandrue? I told you they were overly sweet. It’s all these gods-forsaken new servants. They don’t know how to do anything.”

“Well, I think they’re good,” Zandrue said. “The pastries, I mean.” She gave Jorvanultumn a comforting smile. “Want me to finish it?”

Jorvanultumn shook his head. “No, I will be fine.” He took another bite.

“You’re sure?”

Shaking his head, Jorvanultumn swallowed the sickly portion and handed the rest of the pastry to Zandrue. “No.”

Zandrue took it with a smile, and popped the entire thing in her mouth. With her mouth still full, she mumbled, “Love these things.”

Horaz laughed again. “Good choice, Jorvan! Besides, you want to save your appetite for the actual meal. I’m told the main course is smoked trout from Lake Belone with a salad of roasted radishes, fennel, and apricots, all grown in the conservatory here in the palace, and prepared by an experienced chef. He’s been with us for close to a decade now and always prepares exquisite meals.”

“I look forward to it.” Although Jorvanultumn was familiar with trout, he was not sure he had ever actually eaten it, and he had never heard of any of the other things Horaz had mentioned. Though it was possible he had eaten any and all of them without knowing it. He was not in the habit of asking for a breakdown of the food he ate.

“I understand you’re staying with Princess Sinitïa?” Horaz said.

“Yes. After her injury, Fevionawishtensen, Meleng, and I decided to move from the Hall of Knowledge to here to be closer to her.”

Horaz nodded. “Understandable, but you’re even staying in her rooms, and not rooms of your own. After the better servants she gets, are you?” He chuckled.

Jorvanultumn shook his head. “It has nothing to do with servants. We are a family. We wish to be together.”

“Ah, I see. I’ve heard it said the family you choose is often better than the one you don’t.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true.” Wanting to change the subject, Jorvanultumn made a show of looking around the room. “There are many people here I do not recognise.”

“Yes, visiting nobles from across the province. Anita’s still consolidating her power. She invited them here to gain their support.”

“Is she likely to?”

“As long as they’re not put off by the terrible new servants.” Horaz laughed.

Zandrue sighed loudly. “We’ve been talking about the servants. Horaz here has been complaining about the new ones, and I pointed out that they’ve had to fill a lot of positions in a very short time. They haven’t had the option to be picky.”

“Which is precisely my problem,” Horaz said. “They should be picky regardless even if it means being a little understaffed for a time.”

“But new servants usually start inexperienced,” Zandrue said. “It’s just, usually, they only need to be replaced at a slow rate, so there are still lots of experienced servants to teach them the ropes.”

“Exactly,” Horaz said.

“But you’ve lost a lot of experienced servants, so even if you replaced them slowly, you’d still have the same problem.”

Horaz shook his head. “No really. The problem would decrease with time.”

He and Zandrue then went back and forth on the topic for some time, while Jorvanultumn listened, unsure whether he should add anything to the conversation. Even if he should, he had no idea what to say. He did have a suspicion, though, what Zandrue was trying to do.

“Well, I’m not certain we’re going to agree with each other,” Horaz said eventually, “but I will say, I’m at least glad I still have my same valet. I’d hate to have to train a new one.”

Zandrue smiled at Jorvanultumn, hiding it from Horaz by raising another pastry to her mouth. “Yes, I was actually wanting to ask you a little about him.”

“Really? Whatever for?”

Zandrue bit into her pastry. “It’s Corvinian. You know, Felitïa’s young ward?”

Horaz nodded. “I know the boy. Hangs around with Nin-Akna a lot. A good kid if a little ill-mannered at the dinner table. Her Highness really should talk to him about that.”

Zandrue snickered. “Yeah, he can be a bit of a handful. At any rate, he’s been hanging out with your valet’s son quite a bit recently. I don’t know much about the kid, and I thought maybe you could tell me about him. Felitïa wants to make certain he’s hanging out with good company.”

“Ah yes, young Lucas. He works as a messenger boy in the palace. Does his job well. I’ve never had any complaints.”

“What’s he like as a person? Is he good for Corvinian to hang out with?”

Horaz took a moment to think, then shrugged. “To be honest, I haven’t had much interaction with him beyond when he delivers for me or to me. I know you women like to gossip with and become friends with your servants, but I like to keep things professional. Godran is an excellent valet, but his family is his own business, not mine.”

“What can you tell us about your valet?” Jorvanultumn asked. “Presumably, many of his qualities would pass on to his son.” He had been right in his suspicions about what Zandrue was doing. It was a more circuitous route than he would have used on his own, but he suspected it was more successful as a result. The long discussion had gotten Horaz talking and more open in his responses. Zandrue was definitely a better choice to be doing this. Jorvanultumn was happy to help, but he still did not understand why Mikranasta had been so insistent he be so heavily involved.

“I would absolutely expect them to,” Horaz said. “As I said, Godran is an excellent valet, always professional. He’s attentive to my needs and knows my appointments and routines better than I do. I couldn’t imagine a better valet. I would expect him to instil such qualities in his son and, as I said, young Lucas does his job well. If her Highness is worried that he might influence Corvinian in a bad way, I doubt it. It’s a bit odd for the ward of a princess to spend time with a servant, but...well...her Highness is not a typical princess.”

Zandrue laughed. “Very true.”

“Can you tell us anything about Godran’s personal life?” Jorvanultumn asked.

Horaz frowned. “An odd question. As I said, I don’t mingle with my servants. However, I can tell you that he lost his wife some years back. I naturally offered him time to mourn, but he only took a single day. Said he needed the work as a distraction. Good man. I suppose losing his mother would have an affect on young Lucas, but he obviously got through it. No doubt it strengthened his character. If you’d excuse me now, I’d like to take my seat. The first course should be served soon.”

“Of course,” Zandrue said. “We’ll join you soon.”

Jorvanultumn watched Horaz take his seat beside Anita’s mother, then turned to Zandrue. “I ruined it.”

Zandrue shrugged. “You jumped to personal details about Godran a little too quickly, but don’t worry about it. I doubt we’d have learned anything more anyway. He doesn’t take enough interest in his servants. To be honest, I’m not sure what he does take an interest in. How’d today go?”

Jorvanultumn glanced around the room. People were starting to take their seats, but there was still a lot of conversation going on.

“Don’t worry,” Zandrue said. “Nobody’s listening to us. Except maybe Mikranasta.”

Jorvanultumn gulped. “She actually asked me if she could listen in. I told her no, but that I would fill her in later.”

Zandrue smiled. “Great. So?”

“Nothing happened. Godran went out a couple times. I did not think it would be a good idea to follow him, but he was never gone for more than a few minutes at a time. Some servants came and went, but no one visited that I could tell. Are you sure my presence did not scare away potential visitors?”

Zandrue grabbed another pasty from the table and shrugged. “Hard to say, but oddly enough, you’re less conspicuous than I would be sitting out there all day. I hope you weren’t too bored.”

“At times, but I found things to occupy my attention. I also had a somewhat non-productive discussion with Hedromornasta.”

Zandrue paused in the act of biting into her pastry, holding the pastry in front of her mouth. “Really? What was he doing there?”

“He came for the same reason I was pretending to be there. To meditate.”

“Why there and not his room?”

“He said he preferred it to his room.”

“Huh.” Zandrue bit into the pastry, her eyes and eyebrows scrunched in contemplation.

“Surely you do not find that suspicious?”

Zandrue took a moment and swallowed slowly. “Nah. It’s probably just a good place to meditate. Something to take into account of in the future though. Come on, let’s join everyone at the table.” She popped the rest of the pastry in her mouth and headed for the table.

Jorvanultumn watched her for a moment. If Zandrue was suspicious of Hedromornasta, he should probably not tell Mikranasta. She would not be happy. It would not matter anyway. Zandrue would soon work out that, while Hedromornasta could be annoying, he was not a Darker.