Napolanva (3)

"I've noticed that Unarian women never do wear white," Talia observed, leaning heavily against Ilya's arm as they strode past a row of shops which advertised everything from perfumes to household supplies.

"A simple enough answer to that," Ilya frowned. "Vezdan women wear white and you know very well what qualities are associated with a Vezdan woman in a white dress in Unarian society."

Talia scoffed but swallowed the bitter words that threatened to pour out of her mouth.

"Very well, no white, but why do they choose to wear such dowdy colors when they buy so many gowns and have the luxury of trade and a great array of dyes to pick from?" she wondered.

"Most ladies do choose more subdued colors for day wear or shopping, which is when you have most likely encountered them. However, you have never attended any large social functions. There, you would see a variety of hues and patterns. In Unaria, women dress differently according to the time of day, the time of year, the type of company they expect to encounter, or the importance of the event they attend," Ilya patiently explained.

"It seems... wasteful. To have so many outfits and to change them so often for no real reason," Talia frowned.

"I can understand why you might think so. The Princess has spent her entire life in a society that functioned under the constraints of war. Such a society places little importance on individualism or pleasant distractions. When all resources are diverted to survival, any sort of indulgence seems wasteful and morally wrong. But I would remind the Princess that the options and diversity one sees in a marketplace are an indicator of how much the people are prospering," Ilya explained.

"I suppose it isn't a small thing that so many of the common people can buy their bread because a wealthy woman likes to have many gowns in her wardrobe," Talia generously allowed. "Still... I wonder what Ora made of it."

"I would not be bold enough to guess at the true thoughts of the late Queen, but I can tell you that she knew Unarian customs quite well, and was said to be a very fashionable lady," Ilya remarked.

They walked in silence for a moment, and Talia appeared to be thinking deeply about something.

"I could do that too," she mumbled, more to herself than to her companion, "I could learn to appear more like a Unarian lady, but Ora lived in Unaria as a Queen, and I am here as a prisoner. I am unconvinced that it would do anything to serve me."

Ilya shook his head as if he did not agree with her.

"In many ways, the late Queen was a prisoner just as you are-- though admittedly, she bargained her way into what appeared to be a more comfortable position. I think the Princess would find that if she set her mind to it, she could improve her standing as well. Perhaps there is a way to do just that quite easily. If you would consider--"

"I should go to the capitol!" she interrupted, her eyes lighting up as a new idea seemed to occur to her.

"The capitol, Princess?" Ilya frowned and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. The capitol is the center of Unarian noble society, isn't it? I think I could learn a great deal there. Perhaps visit the shops of their designers, listen to their gossip, learn their ways. Do you think Prince Mikhail might be entreated upon to-"

"I do not think it likely, Princess. After what happened in Pirchburg, I think our Prince will be very reluctant to allow you to leave Bludston. Besides, our Prince is not one to spend a great deal of time socializing with the nobility. When your Emperor has no heir and you yourself are next in line to the throne, it is not wise to be seen making too many friends," Ilya said.

Crestfallen, the Princess nodded slowly. The two stopped to allow a merchant pulling a handcart loaded with goods to cross in front of them.

"There's... another reason I want to go to the capitol," Talia admitted hesitantly. She dropped Ilya's arm and clenched her hands together nervously, "B-but I don't know that I should say it."

Though Ilya did not press her for an explanation, she quickly glanced around as if to make certain she would not be overheard and leaned closer to him.

"Your marks..." she whispered.

Ilya froze and his eyes widened as he turned his head sharply to look at her. Talia did not smile at his reaction though she wanted to. It was like shooting an arrow that perfectly hit its mark. She glanced around again and then stepped back toward a more secluded section of the walkway. The Prince's aide immediately followed.

"I think I understand a little bit about the marks," she continued, keeping her voice low. "And I know why you can't speak of them. I am not sure what you know about House Eosin-"

"It is said that those in House Eosin have vast knowledge of the old magic, and that it resides still in their blood," Ilya answered quickly, and she could see the excitement in his eyes as he spoke.

"Yes, well... that is a very generous take on it, but it is true that we certainly do have more knowledge than most. Now I can't say I know exactly what those marks mean or what sort of magic was used in their making, but from what I've seen of you both, it reminds me of a spell called: The Secret-Keeper's Chain. If I had access to the royal collection at the great library in Madrost, I am sure I could figure it out quite easily, but because that is not an option..."

Here she paused and furrowed her brow as she pretended to struggle with the decision of whether to share her secret or not. Ilya clenched his hands in impatience. He opened his mouth twice but then closed it with a pained expression. She could see without him saying it how desperately he desired his freedom.

"There are Vezdan slaves in the capitol who were once students at the library-- students who spent years studying the theory and practice of old magic. If I could find even one of those former students..." Talia raised her eyes to his, doing her best to look hopeful and sincere.

"And why would you do that, Princess?" Ilya asked narrowing his eyes. "What does it benefit you to help us?"

She could see that she had more than sparked his interest, and even though his tone implied that he did not believe her, she knew well how distrustful one could be of hope after having none for so long. He would help her to travel to the capitol, even if Prince Mikhail would not.

"It would give me a bargaining chip, would it not?" she shrugged.

Before he could answer, they were disturbed by a sudden press of people backing away from the street to make way for something large. Talia could hear the crash of armor before she could see the soldiers.

Craning her neck, she stood on her tiptoes, but still could not see over the other people. Ilya, who was much taller, scowled to himself as he turned to face the street.

"What is it? What are they..." Talia's question died on her lips as she saw the Emperor's standard raised high above the heads of the people, advancing down the street. Another troop of the Emperor's soldiers had entered the town.

"Another messenger from the Emperor," Ilya answered. "It must be something quite important to send another out. Come, let us go back to the Inn."

Talia sighed, but nodded her head in agreement. She had still made some amount of progress. She felt certain that Ilya would find a way to convince Prince Mikhail to take her to the capitol when he travelled there to answer the Emperor's summons, and once there, she would have a good reason for meeting with any possible Vezdan contacts.

It wasn't as if she had lied about wanting to learn more about their marks-- she did, and if she could find a way to break whatever curse bound the tongues of both Prince Mikhail and Ilya, she probably would, but it wasn't her main reason for making the trip to Torobirk.

"The Emperor must be quite eager to arrange his brother's marriage," Talia chuckled.

'I doubt he would send another messenger for that," Ilya mumbled. The press of bodies made it difficult to navigate their way back to the inn. The soldiers in the street were moving much faster. Ilya reached out and snatched her hand, returning it to his arm. It was not out of chivalry. The two might easily be separated in such a dense crowd of people.

By the time they arrived back at the large timber-built Inn, the Emperor's soldiers had already arrived and were standing leisurely in the courtyard speaking with one another. As they approached, a man dressed in flashy yellow silks, stepped past the soldiers and watched as they approached.

Ilya nodded to him as if they knew one another.

"Ilya of Pirchburg!" called the messenger. "I come with words from the mouth of the Emperor!"

"Our Prince is still in the north dealing with the rebels there!" Ilya called back.

"It is not a message for Prince Mikhail. I come bearing a message from Emperor Grigori to his prisoner, Talia of Vezda!" he announced.