The Ever Lord: Navin Speaks with the Guests

“Navin of House Bithrakai.” The gentle voice that drifted across Navin’s ears was rimmed with steel. It was half a question, half a command.

Navin turned to see a woman dressed in a simple green dress of silk and lace. Sparkles of silver and gold glittered across the fabric, and bright gems of purple and yellow danced on the top of thin tassels all along the sleeves. Her eyes, framed by silken locks of sable-black hair, were the only part of the woman’s face that weren’t covered by her ornate fan.

When their eyes met, the woman extended a white-gloved hand, palm down. It was a simple command, one Navin couldn’t help but obey. Navin curtsied and took the lady’s hand, smelling the strong perfume drifting lazily from the woman’s powdered face.

Deep in Navin’s mind, a thousand clues were collected and analyzed. The colors and style of the dress, the image on the fan, even the shape of the woman’s brow was useful information. Even before Navin had gripped the fragrant glove, the hidden face had a name.

“My dear Lady Vach,” Navin smiled, “what a delight to see you. House Bithrakai is grateful that you could come.”

“I had not expected to be here,” Lady Vach’s demure smile was audible in her voice, though still hidden behind her fan. “My ape of a brother demanded my presence. I presume he expects my judgment less clouded then his when it comes to women.”

It took only a moment for Navin to recall the lineage of House Vach. The woman’s voice was clearly young, as were her mannerisms that showed the precision of practice without the ease of experience. She must have been Lady Lika Vach, the youngest heir of House Vach; barely nineteen. The ape of a brother had to be the Baroner Lord Darse Vach.

“I am certain you will provide him excellent council,” Navin answered.

“Excellent, perhaps,” Lady Vach cocked her head. “But certainly not honest.”

Navin’s skin began to prickle. “Forgive my ignorance, Lady Vach, but I’m afraid I do not understand your meaning.”

“Enough games,” her voice fell quiet. Like a gilded cloud, she floated around to Navin’s side. “It took me less than forty minutes to see who was missing from this little debut ball, and who was present yet had no call to be. Where is Lord Farghan, I wonder? His Honorable Baroner Durantha? And yet I see her most honorable ladyship, the Marquess Regaine, has seen fit to attend the ball with her son. I don’t suppose she is hoping to wed your sister? Nor do the two other eligible ladies who have come without their bachelor siblings?”

“Forgive me,” Navin smiled. “but I am afraid it would not be proper for me to comment on whom the many Houses saw fit to send to Lady Bithrakai’s debut.”

“Then you can listen.” Lady Vach slipped her hand through Navin’s arm and began to calmly walk the edge of the ballroom. “I may have expected to do little more than feast and drink and advise my foolish brother, but I am not unable to seize opportunity when it appears. Whatever the political dealings the Viceroy has with your sister, it is clear to me that a few very notable and powerful nobles were told that this debut ball is not just Lady Teeka’s, but yours as well, and I wish to make my intentions clear on that matter.”

Were it proper, Navin would have been both impressed that Lady Vach had discerned the secondary purpose of the ball, and also confused. House Vach was a minor filial house in the grand scheme of things. True, they were not without honor or note, but there were at least seven men and women of greater House and titles who would provide far more to House Bithrakai. Anyone smart enough to deduce Navin’s availability would also recognize the futility of House Vach’s claim.

Without waiting for Navin to say anything, she leaned closer, her lips moving without voice; “I know who your father is.”

If Navin hadn’t been broken, there would have been only one Navin.

This singular Navin would perform their duties without concern or question. Every move would be instinct, savoir faire and etiquette as natural and immaculate as birdsong. This Navin would watch and learn. Every word analyzed, every detail memorized. A mosaic of unparalleled complexity would be built deep in this singular Navin’s brain. An immaculate map of relationships, social status, and politics. A million data-points fueling an impecable servant, able to provide any answer, any service, and ask for nothing in return.

It was the only way for an epicene to provide value for their family. Epicene’s could not carry on the bloodline, bring honor in combat, cultivate virtue via the Church, or gain wealth through owning property. A properly trained epicene, however, capable of taking the place of ten courtiers, scholars, and servants, would fetch a great price among the royal Houses.

But Navin was broken; shattered into two Navins. The second Navin didn’t just analyze, it had opinions and judgments. It didn’t just obey and react, it considered. It thought.

This Navin was suddenly struck with fear, almost panicking at the revelation that Lady Vach could know one of the most dangerous secrets of House Bithrakai: the Viceroy was not only the father of Teeka Bithrakai, but of Navin as well.

Navin was the only child of the previous Viceriene. When Navin had been born an epicene, she had been stripped of her title and honors and cast out into the night, her name forgotten. The Viceroy wed once more and sired four more children. Teeka was the eldest and first heir of the four, with a rebellious spirit and an ear for gossip. If not for her, Navin might never have known the Viceroy had sired Navin as well. It was a secret they both shared.

Viceroy Bithrakai was a powerful noble; granted ministry over the Port City of the Third World by the Palangent Queen herself, his Gracious Lordship held parcel-holdings in over six separate provinces, liegeship over ten Filial Houses, and was attended to by a entourage of Grafs, Counts, Barons, and Knights of all stripes. If word got out that his bloodline had sired an epicene…

This second Navin fumed, frustrated at the binds wrapped around its tongue. It wanted to tease the truth out of Lady Vach, ask clever questions and learn precisely what she knew and what she wanted.

But epicenes weren’t allowed to ask questions. They weren’t allowed to be frustrated, or even have feelings at all. Ashamed, Navin kept their broken self hidden behind a mask of bemused interest.

“If you are interested in procuring me as a spouse,” Navin spoke slowly and carefully, “you would do well to speak to his Gracious Lordship. Viceroy Bithrakai will decide who I will be betrothed to.”

“You think I’m a fool?” her smile was free from scorn. “I am not even a Baroness. If I but curtsey towards him, I am doing little more than presenting my neck to the headmin’s axe.”

“Be that as it may, I have no say in the matter of my betrothal.”

Lady Vach’s smile was free from scorn, her hand rested gently on Navin’s shoulder as they walked. “A brave man, the Viceroy, to make such a decision without consulting his most talented servant. Unless, of course, you are flawed in some way? Poorly trained, perhaps?”

Navin’s stomach twisted as Lady Vach pulled back, her eyes sharp and glittering. “Listen true, epicene. I mean to strengthen my House, and my place within it. I may have little wealth and standing now, but I am no fool, and I will fight for what I want. I may be third heir now, but House Bithrakai would do well to give you to me; Not only will I be grateful when I become Countess of House Vach, but the Viceroy may find he will regret making a different choice.”

Navin’s mouth opened. “I understand what you are offering Lady Vach. I can only say that I am bound to the Viceroy’s will. It is his word that will give me my spouse, in the end.”

“If you tell him that I know,” Lady Vach’s laugh was a glittering spray of bells in the air, “I am certain his word will be me. We would do great things, we two. Better than any of these spoiled Lords and Ladies; they would use you like a trophy, a curio to parade in front of their indolent friends. They don’t need you, so they will not use you.”

“And you will,” Navin said, “use me.”

With a cat’s smile, Lady Vach reached a smooth hand up to Navin’s hairless head, curling her fingers and drawing Navin’s ear down to her painted lips. “Like a master tailor uses a golden needle,” she whispered.

Just then, whether through province or fortune, the ten musicians sitting in the raised music-apse completed their coda and silenced their instruments. The echoes, funneled through the massive ballroom by the well-crafted curved architecture, ebbed and fell silent. The dancers stopped, applauding politely at the musician’s pains, and separating to find new partners with which to converse and collude.

Lady Vach released Navin’s arm. “Go and fetch me a drink,” she purred, “and we can speak more of this matter. Perhaps you might even show me a sample of what you can provide me.” Her smile was pure delight as she waved Navin off with a flick of her silk-and-lace fan.

Navin bowed once more before moving to one of the many massive tables filled with wine, food, and flowers from across the Third World. The second Navin chafed against the command, and cast a careful gaze about, hunting for a suitable loophole.

One was found in the boisterous form of the Liegraf Espenra Brachus, wide and full of wine. With careful precision, Navin’s pace adjusted so they both arrived at the same table at the same time.

“Your Most Honored Brachus,” Navin bowed in greeting while struggling to ignore the twinge of pain in their stomach. For an epicene to speak to a noble without being spoken to first was a significant faux pah, unless there were significant extenuating circumstances. It should have been impossible, but Navin was broken.

The large Liegraf turned, his curious look turning to confusion when he saw who was speaking. “Why…yes? Do you have a message for me?”

“Your Most Honored, forgive me,” Navin bowed again. “No, I know of no message for you.”

“Ah, yes…well,” the Liegraf cast his gaze around for a moment before settling again on Navin. “Well, please pass on my gratitude to Viceroy Bithrakai for the invitation. I…suppose I am not surprised he has no time for a dishonored noble like myself. Much less at his daughter’s debut…” His voice trailed off as he looked around again.

“I will be certain to do so, my Lord.” One more small faux pah… Breaking eye contact with the Liegraf, Navin took up a glass of wine from the table and handed it to a passing servant. “Good sir, if you please, would you deliver this glass to Lady Lika Vach, with my deepest apologies, but his Most Honored, the Liegraf Brachus has claimed my attention.”

It was an odd quirk of the hierarchy in Imperial Houses. Epicenes were at the very bottom, needing to bow and scrape to even the lowliest of peasants. At the same time, they were valued commodities for the nobility, meaning their word was often backed by the will of someone with significant honors and titles. As an epicene, Navin’s only standing duty was to serve the House’s guests in any way possible, including providing charming conversation. Any noble could claim Navin’s time, with higher ranking nobles requiring priority, even though to speak familiarly to a noble was a great impropriety for any servant. It made for a difficult maze of etiquette to maneuver, and was the focal point of much of Navin’s training.

At the moment, the maze was a clumsy tool to escape Lady Vach, and Navin was surprised when Lord Brachus blinked, bemused, moments before a knowing grin split his face. “Ah, but of course!” A hand as large as a plate rested on Navin’s shoulder. “I wanted to speak with you of something of consequence, I’m sure. Please, will you attend me for a moment?”

“You do me a great honor,” Navin answered as the Liegraf led them both away from the table. A moment of broken relief settled on Navin’s shoulders that the Liegraf had decided to play along. “I am at your service, your Most Honored.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are.” His voice dropped, the sotto words rumbling in Navin’s sternum. “Lady Vach, eh? I don’t blame you. She’s young yet. I remember when I was that age, thinking because I knew one thing I knew every thing. Believing that being charming was the same thing as interesting.”

“I must confess,” Navin smiled politely as they approached one of the seating alcoves that lined the walls of the ballroom, “I found her not nearly as charming or interesting as you, your Most Honored.”

“Ha!” Lord Brachus coughed a laugh into the air, his jowls quivering as he shook his head in amazement. “You are far too diplomatic, and frighteningly good at flattery.”

“No flattery, your Most Honored. House Bithrakai was delighted when we heard you had accepted his Gracious Lordship’s invitation.”

“Have done!” Lord Brachus waved his hand as he sat down on a thick plush cushion in the alcove, gesturing for Navin to sit at his side. “I am far too old to be swayed by a pretty tongue, no matter where it’s placed. Please, remove your mouth from my ass and tell me true; am I just an excuse then, to extract yourself from a clumsy and boorish guest?”

Navin’s response was instinctual; “You give me too much credit, my Lord. My duty is only to serve my liege, the Viceroy Bithrakai; not to find his Gracious Lordship’s guests clumsy or boorish.”

“A situation that suits me,” Lord Brachus gave a wry smirk. “I have no illusions. I know if my House were to be blessed with a marriage to House Bithrakai, it would not be me your young sister would be shackled to.” He paused for a moment. “If you are to serve, Navin, then perhaps you would do me a great service.”

“I would be delighted to serve you in any way you wish, if I am able.”

“Who is currently winning the right to woo your sister? Which House and which Heir? I may be only a minor noble, but I can repay you quite handsomely for this information.”

“You are too humble, your most Honored. There is nothing minor about you.”

“No?” the Liegraf smiled. “Then you see something that my House does not see. It is rare indeed that a Marquis is stripped of his title, no?”

“Rarer still, I think, that one retains their Graf-dom. It would have been far simpler for House Brachus to cast you out entirely. It is clear they wished to retain your service without retaining their shame.”

“Is it indeed?” Lord Brachus grimaced. “I find myself uninterested in any shame beyond my own, at the moment. Besides, I doubt my title as Liegraf will last the year. But I suppose there is little more I can do to affect my fortune at the moment; if I am to be cast aside with my titles stripped, I at least can suffer my shame like a man.”

“I have seen both men and women suffer shame with both ill and noble passion,” Navin said, carefully. “I’m afraid I cannot discern what you mean.”

“Well, of course you cannot. Count your blessings that you are no more than a servant. It is different for old tired dogs such as I. I suppose the honorable thing to do is find myself a small hovel in the outreaches of our territory, waste away and be forgotten.”

Navin was broken.

“If you wish to find a place of solitude, perhaps you might consider the northern edge of Wallin Province.”

Lord Brachus looked up, his eyes suddenly sharp. “I say, you have tricked me. I suspected we were chatting most casually, and now you plant a seed in my head? What have you heard? Are you gifting me with a chance to reclaim my lost honor, or setting me up for some other House’s advantage? Is this gift set at the tip of a spear?”

Navin blinked. Of course, there was hidden purpose in the suggestion, but suspicion was not the response Navin had suspected. “I am but an epicene, your Most Honored. Such scheming is beyond someone such as I.” It was a horrible lie, but most etiquette was. “I have merely heard Wallin Province to be a beautiful place, both peaceful and verdant.”

“Ah, perhaps I am being paranoid?” Brachus’s eyes dimmed as he shook his tired head. “Yes, I suppose I do tend to stare at shadows only to jump when they move. It comes from being a fool in a crowd of clever people. One starts to assume everything is a lie, or a trick, or a move in some complex game. Then, when you fear the shadows, you blow out the lights to hide yourself until there is nothing but shadows all around you.”

The second Navin felt pity for the sad noble. “Surely, would you not light more candles to banish the shadows away?”

Lord Brachus sniffed. “Yes well…I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning. I suppose I’ve no head for poetry, either. Well,” a gentle smile drifted across his face, “I suppose if one is shamed, surrounded by shadows, and outclassed at every side, there is little one can do but while away the hours finding what joy one can.” He blinked and refocused his eyes on Navin. “If we can set aside games of politics, you must satisfy a curiosity of mine.”

“Of course, my Lord. I am at your disposal.”

“All your Epicene training, all that has been forced into your hairless head to become a valuable spouse…has it quite ruined your ability to enjoy balls such as these? Or are you trapped in perpetual politics?”

Navin took a quick breath in surprise, and then smiled a rare sincere smile. “My Lord, I can honestly say there are always moments of surprising delight, even with training as severe as my own.”

The Liegraf smiled back, holding out a massive hand. “Then would you be so kind as to do a decomposing noble one final act of kindness, and enjoy the next dance with me?”

Navin placed a hand in his. “It would be a pleasure, my Lord.”