Gold day

Nov 7, 2008

There is a story I tell myself. I can see it playing out behind my eyes. Sev is paying attention to the children, or to his work, or both at once. I take him by the hand, and pull him to his feet. I take him it the next room, our bedroom, and I press his back against the wall. There is no sound in the room except our breathing. There is only one lamp, burning next to our bed. We cannot hear the street vendors outside, or the sounds of birds on the roof.

Sev is someone whose attention is like a warmth. He has the talent of command, I think it is, but more than that. When he wishes to, he can make the world fall away. It isn’t something that is often relevant, though I think he is engaged in using it to sway his rebellion, and Dri, to his way of thinking. That is what I would seek, not to hurt him, or to scare him. So often lately I find things only feel the same with him when we are alone at night. Things seem to be changing faster and faster.

Dri sent me a letter, a nothing missive filled with gossip about people I do not care about. It is my fault for asking not for news of him, but for news of the city. I am wary of committing too much to writing, but it is no correspondence that does not include something of the heart. He wrote to me of evil, last time, and I did not respond to it directly. I did not direct Sev to leave my mail unread, either, despite its quelling effect.

Sev and I did talk briefly last night about his views of our project. I do not know if he refused to be helpful, or if he was very helpful.

“I’m glad you asked, love,” he said, touching my hair. “I don’t know that I should answer. Asking me to tell you what your opinion should be of my war… doesn’t it just fulfill the pattern?”

“The pattern?”

“Me telling you what to think so often that you don’t know your own mind.”

“I know my own mind.”

“Then what do you think?”

I couldn’t answer that immediately. He kissed me.

“Suki – do you really want my answer?”

“I could guess at it. You think this is a clear, right path. You don’t have doubts.”

“I have some. Not in the goal, the end point, but in the people and the time. I think we can do it, but afterwards… I don’t think we’ll be done.”

I half smiled.

“We speak too often in riddles. Half of our habits are built around eavesdroppers, aren’t they?”

“Often,” he admitted, with his own smile.

“You think that if we kill the emperor and the princess and everyone else with closer claim than Mithras, he and Duke Adri will not be perfect. They might be better.”

“Duke Adri has his principles. Odd ones, but I believe they exist. Not like me.”

“You have principles.”

“Yes. But they are… conditional? On you and the children being safe.”

“A very understandable and sympathetic condition, my Sev.”

Enough of this writing. I shall go to my husband and continue our conversation, and write Dri later.

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