Chapter 6 – The Presentation

When they could see again, the purple fire fizzled out with a final, defiant hiss against Jacob’s protective shield and the corridor smelled of the burnt mycelium of the smoldering walls.

Amateur. Whoever wants me dead definitely paid too much for this lousy job.

House retainer Haeliz, who had been a part of Shaelith’s escort, lay in a spreading pool of blood. A crystal shard from one of the goblets the supposed servant carried had been caught in the blast and severed his carotid artery. A quick death at least. The other two guards of her escort had been thrown to the ground and scorched a little, but to Shaelith’s relief they were still alive.

The assassin itself was sprinting down the corridor, trying to escape. Jacob raised his hand and activated a slowing glyph. The air around the fugitive shimmered, becoming viscous like sweet spore syrup…

Then counter glyphs flickered under her clothes and the deceleration field collapsed.

Okay, maybe not a complete amateur after all.

But the little distraction was enough for Vyriz, who had recovered from the surprise explosion with impressive speed and was already in full sprint. His rapier slid between the assassin’s ribs who slumped, blood gushing from her mouth. Her fingers twitched to a glyph on her arm, but Vyriz stepped hard on her wrist.

“Not so fast, maggot,” he hissed.

But it was too late. More glyphs flared up and soon the woman was covered in a swarm of corrosive spores, which simultaneously killed her in considerable agony and disfigured her beyond recognition, along with the glyphs on her skin.

A Rynalazel suicide glyph, but a sloppily executed one.

Probably some desperate sorceress hired through three middlemen to maintain some plausible deniability.

Jacob looked down at his dress. There was a tiny burn mark on the hem, but otherwise it was intact. His elaborately braided hairstyle had suffered however and several strands had come loose.

Fantastic, so I have to redo my hair again before the presentation.

“Vyriz, be a dear and take care of all that.” He made a vague gesture that encompassed the dead house retainer, the acid-disfigured body of the assassin, and the general mess. “Send house retainer Haeliz’ kin a compensation, but make it triple the rate, please.”

“Will do.” Vyriz wiped his rapier on the remains of the assassin’s clothing. “Shall I open an investigation?”

“What for?” Jacob tugged angrily at his hair and sighed. There really was nothing left to save there. “We both know it was Rynalazel and of course we won’t be able to prove it. But get someone to find out how she got in here. This sloppiness can’t be allowed to happen.”

He snorted in annoyance. “I have to change my clothes and redo my hair. And probably renew at least four glyphs.”

Vyriz grinned wryly. “I thought you hated the presentations anyway?”

“I am, but I’m there on political duty, so I have to look spectacular.” Jacob turned to go. “I’ll see you there. Try not to be late.”

“As if I ever-“

“Last two presentations. The welcoming of the new year. The celebration of the first spore. My last birthday. Your last birthday. Shall I continue?”

“I’ll hurry.”

Jacob was already halfway down the corridor when he called over his shoulder, “At least it wasn’t a poison attack, they always ruin the whole day.”

Vyriz’s laughter followed him through the winding corridors back to his chambers.

Fortunately, Belyssere and three servants were already waiting in his chambers, ready to assist him as soon as he arrived. Two pairs of hands helped him out of his singed dress, while two others were already holding the evening gown ready, a strategically transparent work of art made from cultivated mycelium. The shimmering fabric covered just enough to stimulate the imagination, while making it abundantly clear that underneath was nothing but pure purple perfection.

But before he got into the dress, he did some fast glyph renewals.

“You look wonderful Shaelith,” Belyssere murmured happily as she adjusted the fastenings and then quickly helped him fix his hair messages. “I heard three minor houses liquidated assets today and put the proceeds into contract funds for future bids on your concubine contract.”

“Oh, uh, good. Mother will be happy I guess.”

A short glance in the mirror revealed a breathtaking appearance.

Being beautiful is nice actually. I’m just not sure it’s worth all the trouble.

~

In the banqueting hall of the Court of the Matriarchs, House Arazesre, who hosted the presentation this time, had erected raised platforms made of living mycelium, which took up a considerable part of the area. The present nobility had arranged themselves in clusters according to allegiance. It was a tremendous spectacle.

Westminster Dog Show meets Vegas meets Renaissance fair.

Jacob took his place with the other Vyrnara women who closed ranks around him. His mother, of course, sat apart with the other matriarchs of the council.

“Matriarchs worthy of all honors and luminous daughters!” Matriarch Thravilith Arazesre raised her arms theatrically and basked in the attention. “The houses today present the flower of Myzelemaerlazin, the pride of the Shaeravyn, the finest specimens of our breeding males!”

The first candidate stepped onto the platform. A remarkably handsome man, but the breeding males all were, so they usually also had some other qualities.

He was a slender Shaeravyn with silver hair like spun moonlight and displayed his agility by bending himself into positions that made Jacob’s spine hurt just by looking at it, while reciting a beautiful ode to the cultivation of Shadowcap mushrooms.

“Thaeriz of House Gulvirin!” announced the Thravilith Arazesre. “Expert in ancient poetry, master of physical flexibility, and despite his young age already the father of three extremely healthy, lovely and magically extraordinarily gifted daughters from his short five-year-contract with his first former concubine Hylenre Yndrala!”

Number two juggled heavy gold weights while his feet virtuously played a crystal harp. The melody was surprisingly harmonious, given the distraction, even if his biceps were clearly supposed to be the main attraction.

Oh God. The third was literally glowing. His entire body was rubbed with a special glow spore-infused oil that bathed him in a soft light as he performed a breakneck acrobatic dance routine while being half-naked. Jacob had to admit that the effect was impressive.

Like a living lava lamp with abs.

And so it went on for another hour, male after male trying to stand out with ever more creative displays of their qualities. After the formal presentation, the males dispersed to their designated areas and were immediately swarmed by interested Shaeravyn women.

Jacob didn’t manege to make three steps before the matriarch of House Gulvirin intercepted him and confidently placed her hand on his shoulder. “Shaelith! How wonderful to see you. Have you seen Thaeriz yet? Hylenre has been raving about his steadfastness and I’m sure he’d love to give you a taste if you’re interested, I’d be happy to arrange it.”

He chatted politely with her for a few minutes and promised to drop by Thaeriz and take a good look at him. Duty demanded that he at least pretended to give the males a careful examination. Especially as it was not unlikely that he might actually be the concubine of one of these men one day.

So he moved from display area to display area. He joined a group of women who were feeling up the particularly muscular specimen that had been juggling the gold balls. He was almost a little too muscular for the prevailing taste of the Shaeravyn.

Jacob dutifully placed a hand on his upper arm and he tensed it willingly and with a friendly smile. Jacob put his hand around the biceps, mumbled appreciative noises and moved on.

Firm, but definitely not my type. Hmm, where next… actually, where is the dancer with the glowing oil though, the one with the abs?

A particularly bold male from House Yndrala, one of the youngest eligible breeding males, had left his designated display area and suddenly blocked his path. “Luminous Shaelith,” he purred, positioning himself so that his elegant profile stood out particularly well. Jacob had to admit that he had a quite handsome face. “I swear to you on my life, if you give me but one night to convince you that House Vyrnara should negotiate a concubine contract with House Yndrala between you and me, you will not regret it, or I will not want to live a day more.”

Was that just a come-on or a threat of suicide?

“That’s as generous of you as it is admirably hands-on and I certainly don’t want to deny your surely extraordinary skills as a lover and am furthermore downright heartbroken that I can’t enjoy your, uh… considerable manhood,” Jacob replied trying not to stare. “But I’m afraid my bed is already sufficiently full.”

Skeptical, the Yndrala male glanced at the ‘Virgin’ message in Jacobs hair but reluctantly pulled back anyway. A familiar voice sounded behind Jacob. “What a perfect rebuff.”

Vyriz stood behind him, his hair hastily braided and of course he had overlooked a small bloodstain on his cuff.

“All done,” he muttered. “The assassin was hired through intermediaries, but no idea by whom. The body has already been dissolved and Haeliz’ kin has been compensated. Triple the rate, just as you said. My mother sends her regards, by the way, she stayed in the palace and is trying to find out how the assassin got in.”

He tried to stay close to him as he strolled through the hall, but that proved practically impossible, since he was constantly being shoved aside by people who wanted Jacob’s attention for themselves.

“Go mingle and have some fun,” Jacob said quietly. “You won’t meet anyone interesting if you stay in my company.”

“But-“

“Phyralith has been staring at you that whole time.” Jacob nodded discreetly over to a group of young Vyrnara women. “She hasn’t had an eye for the breeding males since you got here.”

Vyriz sighed. “You know I hate these events as much as you do.”

“I know.” Jacob smiled sympathetically. “I’ll find you later.”

Vyriz briefly squeezed his hand before rushing off into the crowd. Jacob looked after him and felt a brief stab of envy and wished he could disappear as well.

Back by the moss wine fountains, Jacob finally spotted his mother holding court in a circle of minor matriarchs. Laenre’s hair carried a particularly aggressive message this evening. House Vyrnara triumphant, Our enemies lie beneath us, Retaliation pending. That last message elicited a smile from Jacob.

“Mother.” He bowed casually.

Laenre studied him briefly and her eyes lingered for a moment on his freshly braided hair. “I heard about the incident. Uncharacteristically sloppy work for Rynalazel, but it still calls for retribution.” Her voice was calm, almost bored. “I’ll take care of it.”

Translation: Someone from House Rynalazel will die a very painful death in the next few days. Oh, speak of the devil…

“What a joy to see Shaelith Vyrnara, the Moonlit Orchid, ornament of our people!” Matriarch Xarini Rynalazel glided up to Jacob. “Another assassination attempt, I hear? How draining that must be for you, my dear. It would be a shame if the most beautiful Shaeravyn of her generation were to fall victim to this terrible political violence that plagues our times.”

That brazen witch.

“Matriarch Rynalazel.” Jacob bowed minimally. “Your sincere concern for my well-being fills me with great humility and gratitude.”

Matriarch Thravilith Arazesre, the Shining Azalea, as she still liked to be called, though her heyday was at least a decade past, joined them. A few decades ago, she was considered the most beautiful of all Shaeravyn, and she hated Shaelith for no other reason than the fact that they said the same about Shaelith now.

Her eyes glittered with barely concealed malice. “Your humility is but one of your many good qualities, Shaelith. I, for one, find it admirable how openly you deal with your condition.” She gestured awkwardly at the ‘Virgin’ message in Jacob’s hair. “So brave to admit your shortcomings so openly.”

Jacob said nothing and didn’t let any of his anger slip into his expression, although he was boiling inside. Laenre’s eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly. That was worrying, though.

“Perhaps,” purred Rynalazel, sipping her moss wine, “there are hidden deformities? Some families carry tragic mutations that only are reveal upon intimate contact.”

“How rude, Xarini. Don’t talk about mutations and deformities. She is probably just human-hearted,” Arazesre added, which was the ultimate insult to Shaeravyn. “Have some sympathy, please. It can’t be an easy fate to be as prudish and uptight as those short-lived creatures.”

Jacob kept his face neutral, but inwardly he rolled his eyes. Ladies, I literally WAS human. You’re not even wrong.

“If I were your mother, I would blame myself terribly,” Arazesre purred with jealousy dripping from every word like poison. “Someday your beauty will fade and then, without heirs, without legacy… what would remain of you, what would become of the venerable House Vyrnara?”

Laenre’s smile could have made water freeze over. “What would remain of her? Well, certainly more than from a kinslaying matriarch whose house stands on a shaky foundation of corpses. Your own mother and sisters, Xarini?”

The temperature around them seemed to drop by several degrees.

“And as for you, Thravilith,” Laenre’s voice was like poisoned sweet spore syrup, “I understand your concern about fading beauty, I truly do. It must be hard for you to remember what it was like when you could see anything but duty in the eyes of the men you lay with.”

Ouch. Mother is in a butcher’s mood.

The two matriarchs froze and the polite expression on their faces gave way to masks of barely suppressed anger. They were all better at dishing it out than at taking it.

“I’m afraid we must take our leave,” hissed Rynalazel. “So many males to examine.”

“Of course.” Laenre’s smile was terrifying. “Enjoy the presentation.”

The ‘while you still can’ was silent, but very loud.

The two matriarchs rushed off with their entourage hurrying after them. The circle around Laenre and Jacob widened noticeably. Nobody wanted to get caught in the middle when matriarchs showed their claws.

And now it’s my turn.

As soon as the two matriarchs were out of earshot, Laenre’s icy smile turned into cold anger.

“They’re venomous snakes,” she said quietly, “but they have a point.”

Jacob felt sick. Please, not again.

“I just don’t understand you. Every year you insist on staying a virgin costs us political capital, it damages your reputation and ours.” Laenre’s voice grew heated. “What those two have thrown at you is nothing that isn’t speculated on anyway, you know? Whether you’re a piece of jewelry I’m leaving untouched out of vanity, whether you’re so stuck up that you can’t find anyone you deem worthy of you, or whether you actually have any health problems. But the healer assured me that there was nothing physically wrong with you.”

“Mother-“

“I taught you the contraception glyphs four years ago.” Her eyes narrowed. “They’re not for decoration, Shaelith, but so you can relax and gain experience. At your age, you shouldn’t be able to get enough of it. When my sisters and I were your age, we had our legs apart more often than together and you never even kissed anyone as far as I know. That’s not normal Shaelith.”

Normal? Lady, what you think is normal would have earned me at least as much of a telling off where I come from as I’m getting from you now. Well, at least if I had been a girl.

“People are talking,” Laenre continued, getting even angrier. “Worse, they laugh. About you. About our house. Even our own people. Do you know what Belyssere told me last week? That the servants are taking bets on whether you even know how it works.”

Heat rose in Jacob’s cheeks. “It’s my body, my ch-“

“Your body?” Laenre’s laugh was bitter. “Your body belongs to House Vyrnara. You are my daughter, my heir and my investment. Every perfect inch of you was bred and molded for a purpose, and you undermine that purpose out of… out of childish prudishness!”

‘Investment’. ‘Bred’. She’s talking about me like I’m a mare.

“I was patient,” Laenre said, and for the first time in Jacob’s memory there was real contempt in her voice. “For years, I was patient. I’ve tolerated your idiosyncrasies, your peculiarities. But that patience has run out.”

She stepped closer and Jacob had to force himself not to flinch. Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

“Grow up, Shaelith. Soon.”

Then she turned and rushed off without giving him another glance. Jacob stood alone by the moss wine fountains, surrounded by whispering nobles who pretended not to have heard anything.

Fuck.

He had often enough seen his mother angry. But never… disappointed. Never disgusted with him.

I have to get out of here.

The walls seemed to draw closer. Observing eyes everywhere, whispering mouths and speculating glances. He could practically hear what they were talking about him.

Virgin freak. Vyrnara’s weird daughter. The human-hearted loser.

Jacob turned around and moved as fast as he could gracefully manage towards the exit.

Just get out of here. Before I do something I regret. Like, for example, pushing the next best of those breeding males against a wall just to prove that I’m not a defective piece of jewelry.

The elevated walkways between the mushroom palaces were almost empty at this time of night, since most of the noble Shaeravyn of this part of the city were still at the presentation. Jacob breathed in the cool, damp, mycelium-scented grotto air and tried to banish his mother’s words from his mind. Grow up, Shaelith. Soon.

“You’re leaving already? The night is still young and we haven’t even had a glass of moss wine together yet.” Vyriz’s voice made him wince. His friend had caught up with him, slightly out of breath from running.

Jacob turned around. Vyriz only had to take one look at his face to understand that something was wrong. His eyebrows drew together. “What happened?”

“The usual.” Jacob attempted a smile that failed miserably. “Mother is unhappy with my continued virginity.”

“Again?” Vyriz sighed and put an arm around his shoulders. “What did she say this time?”

“That I embarrass House Vyrnara. That the servants are placing bets on whether I’m too stupid to know how to get fucked. That her patience is at an end.” Jacob leaned slightly against Vyriz’s warm side. “Rynalazel and Arazesre, they called me human-hearted. Mother shredded them, but… she thought they had a point.”

Vyriz snorted. “Human-hearted. You’re not human-hearted.”

If you only knew.

They walked in silence for a while, past mushroom gardens and shimmering clouds of spores. Finally, Vyriz cleared his throat.

“You know…” He sounded unusually cautious. “If it would help… I mean, we’re friends. Best friends. I’d like to help you solve your… solve your problem, if you want that. No obligations or politics, you know? Just as a friend.”

Jacob smiled sadly. He knew that Vyriz was serious and that he of course would be more than willing to “help”. “I know there’s nothing you’d rather do. It’s just… not that easy.”

“But why?” Vyriz’s voice was gentle, without reproach, just curious. “I thought for a while that maybe you liked women better, but you don’t chase after them either. I mean, I’m not judging you. I really don’t. I just don’t get it.”

Yes, why actually?

Jacob looked at his own hands in the faint mushroom light. Slender, elegant purple fingers. Part of a body that was objectively spectacular. He had gotten used to it and if he was onest, he even liked it. Liked the way he moved, the power in his magical glyphs, even the way others looked at him.

It’s not as if I live completely like a monk. Or a nun rather.

Sometimes, when the night was long and he felt the need, he took care of it himself. It was… pleasant. More than pleasant, actually.

But the thought of letting someone else get so close, of letting that last barrier fall…

Is it the vulnerability? The fear of losing control? Or am I just clinging to this last piece of Jacob that I have left? The last barrier between Jacob and Shaelith, between the man I was and… and… the woman… I am.

“I’m just…” Jacob searched for words. “Not ready yet. I know this sounds ridiculous, but…”

“That’s not ridiculous.” Vyriz stroked his hair gently in small, comforting movements, careful not to ruin his elaborate braids. “You feel how you feel, Shaelith. And I like you the way you are.”

They reached the forecourt of the Vyrnara Palace and stopped at the edge of the platform. Below them, Myzelemaerlazin stretched out in all its splendor, with thousands upon thousands of glowing mushrooms filling the enormous grotto.

“If it were up to me,” Vyriz said quietly, “you could take all the time in the world. For whatever you need.”

Jacob felt his throat constrict. How did I get so lucky to find a friend like him here?

“Thank you,” he whispered.

They stood there for a while longer, Vyriz’s arm still around his shoulders, watching the vibrant city below them, peaceful and soothing

But a clock was ticking in the back of Jacob’s head. “My patience has run out,” his mother had said.

And his mother made no idle threats.