[ night falls. night passes. dawn comes. dawn, too, passes. the ali qapu blooms red beneath the pale-pink reach of new light. alhaitham wakes, and exists, and is, as always, indifferent to it. the next two days passes without incident. alhaitham performs the duties as his role entails, and waits for the natural progression towards the next stage of his plan. the details of the meeting are passed along - eleven pm in the back gardens where the aqueducts burble, beneath the light of three lit lamps in a half-hidden pergola. food is brought, food is taken away. the slaves, with their bowed heads; the servants, with their brisk professionalism. the household bustles with undue activity. just on the heels of a treaty signing, there is much to be done - diplomacy to be had, guests to be settled, hospitality to be extended, gifts to be procured.
it is the last that the girl with the swaying dress returns with in a small, black box. a pair of silver rings, from the raid on the palaces of the lokapala. the vow-rings of kaveh's mother and father. she delivers them with a cant of her head; her skirts sway as she retreats into the light and life of the palace proper, leaving behind the marbled quiet of alhaitham's room and the singular, solitary guest within.
the issue arises on day two's lunch. the spread of freshly picked greens and tomatoes tossed with a spiced dressing, along with great, big steaming bowls of lentil soup and the small, stuffed roasts of tiny quail-like birds. the dessert of lunchtime's repast is a fragrant jasmine-and-coconut cake decorated in green and white layers so translucent that one can see through to the other side of the room warped only by the tint of the dessert itself. the issue builds in the cooling breeze of the afternoon. the northern wind blows gentle respite for the usually unbearable mid-day heat. but even that does nothing for what builds. by evening, the heat is like a boiling furnace, enough that when alhaitham finally returns to the room proper, his hand pauses upon the door itself.
the scent is unmistakable. the conclusion, however, impossible. therefore, the impossible is discarded. the alacrity of alhaitham's mind bolts through several options before landing on the one that has mild annoyance crossing his face for the first time since the invasion proper.
artificially induced heat.
alhaitham opens the door. he closes it behind him. he closes his eyes, and opens them, slowly, with painful reluctance. ]
no subject
it is the last that the girl with the swaying dress returns with in a small, black box. a pair of silver rings, from the raid on the palaces of the lokapala. the vow-rings of kaveh's mother and father. she delivers them with a cant of her head; her skirts sway as she retreats into the light and life of the palace proper, leaving behind the marbled quiet of alhaitham's room and the singular, solitary guest within.
the issue arises on day two's lunch. the spread of freshly picked greens and tomatoes tossed with a spiced dressing, along with great, big steaming bowls of lentil soup and the small, stuffed roasts of tiny quail-like birds. the dessert of lunchtime's repast is a fragrant jasmine-and-coconut cake decorated in green and white layers so translucent that one can see through to the other side of the room warped only by the tint of the dessert itself. the issue builds in the cooling breeze of the afternoon. the northern wind blows gentle respite for the usually unbearable mid-day heat. but even that does nothing for what builds. by evening, the heat is like a boiling furnace, enough that when alhaitham finally returns to the room proper, his hand pauses upon the door itself.
the scent is unmistakable. the conclusion, however, impossible. therefore, the impossible is discarded. the alacrity of alhaitham's mind bolts through several options before landing on the one that has mild annoyance crossing his face for the first time since the invasion proper.
artificially induced heat.
alhaitham opens the door. he closes it behind him. he closes his eyes, and opens them, slowly, with painful reluctance. ]
Kaveh.