Chapter 2
Kanaya's eyes boggle before she composes herself, clearing her throat, "That, um, certainly clarifies some things."
"Yes." Your face must resemble a pyre at this point--the heat in it certainly feels like one.
"So that is why--"
"Yes."
"...Ah."
The silence that follows is deafening. Awkwardly, Rose coughs and disentangles from you to retreat back into the baths with a few words, leaving you sitting on the floor of the antechamber completely dumbfounded. You redress and return to your quarters, thoughts of a bath gone for now.
So your human husband is a female. This is mildly disconcerting, since the only schoolfeeding you've had on humans is smatterings of history and their societal structure and chain of command, as well the male's anatomy (mostly to be mentally prepared for the striking differences between your kind during the human's post-union mating tradition), and even then it was mostly on the various weaknesses of their form, since much of the information given was extracted via prisoners of war by Investerrigators, or vivisection and autopsy by the imperial Visceranalysts and Necroproctors, respectively.
You know that humans are dimorphic--as are alternians, though that is circumvented by your kind's reproductive practices--and your personal observation has shown that human females' acid sacs are also more readily apparent (another similarity), but are largely in the proverbial day for much else.
It also removes the possibility of flushed advances from your partner as well--you had learned second-hand of the humans' inability to become romantically involved with the same gender through an acquaintance's experience.
OH MY GOD WHAT EVEN IS A HOMOSEXUAL ANYWAY?
You rather miss his abrasive nature. Yet another regret in coming here you suppose.
At least there isn't any pressure to form any quadrants; since humans are monogamous, your "duties" here involved a clause precluding you from the imperial drones' services--you received a small implant in your arm that apparently marks you as another drone, removing you from their perception entirely.
You had only realized much later that this also branded you as a genetic dead-end to your people. That the Maryam line would end with you due to random chance was
You turn your mind away from the subject, instead focusing on the earlier encounter with "Briar".
...in fact, should I be so forward, I would say that you are just the opposite.
How strange.
- - - - -
It surprises you to notice just how much time the two of you spend together of late; be it reading, or knitting (though you prefer the loom yourself), or sitting at the dais whispering humorous observations of your guests or staff which Rose refers to as "people-watching".
Once her secret had been revealed to you, she became much more relaxed, if that is the proper word for it. The silences and stares continue, but you've come to find that this is a common practise for her.
The staff appears to have noticed the change as well, retreating quickly when you're together with knowing looks and small smiles.
Even the occasional visitors began making assumptions--sometimes out loud if they surpassed their tolerance to whatever soporific they were drinking that evening. Rose simply stared into her glass with a sheepish smile that didn't meet her eyes.
"Trying to correct their assumptions only makes them more sure of it." She had replied when you raised the subject, "So, I simply let them provide my cover for me."
- - - - -
It was a few weeks after The Reveal as you've come to call it. During one of the many human holiday celebrations (she had called it a "ball", which puzzled you) that Rose kissed your hand and invited you to dance, ever playing the part of your faithful husband.
Thankfully your schoolfeeding on human customs included formal dance. You think those present were quite surprised.
- - - - -
Rose was shocked to learn that you preferred to design and sew your wardrobe yourself--apparently many human girls weren't allowed to pursue such hobbies; while working lace (and knitting if you weren't skilled enough for the former) were acceptable, working the loom and weaving were a craftsman's trade, and therefore unladylike. You think that is silly and say as much.
"I agree, but there's little one person can do to change it. Young nobles are raised with the expectation of being traded away--bartered like horses between families to secure their holdings and lineage. Though boys are in a similar boat, girls have the hardest time of things, since learning skills to support oneself is 'unattractive', and breaking off a marriage simply isn't done. I had to take great pains to be able to educate myself without suspicion."
The open disgust in her tone was comforting.
- - - - -
On a day called "Easter"--that you gather involves a giant hopbeast of some sort--a perigree later, she gave you a peck on your cheek as she bade farewell to the party for the evening.
Your blush shifted from surprise to embarrassment at the guests' chuckles.
- - - - -
Weeks later she spent the entire day in a garish dress, hanging off of you and doting shamelessly as you watched the plays and parades in the town square.
You were dumbstruck when she was met with only hoots and laughter by her guests and subjects, and horrified to see her discard her cover so completely. You only learned (after some explanation) that it was "All-fool's day", and was meant to be a ruse for entertainment's sake.
"That it's true and they don't realize it only makes the deception sweeter. The look on your face was a sight as well." Though she wore only the smallest of smiles, you felt it was genuine.
- - - - -
Alas, it seems all good things must come to an end. Rose has been in a foul mood of late--moreso than during the height of her human menstrual cycle (which is still alien to you, beyond that she changes mood with alarming speed and has a seemingly endless supply of exotic sweets stored away somewhere).
She will not tell you the cause.
- - - - -
It's only after her custodian's coach arrives that you know why.
To say that Rose and her ancestor-slash-guardian do not get along is an understatement, and that is all there is to say on the matter.
- - - - -
Rose's dark mood continues even after her "mother"'s departure, which is strange--why would you be upset about someone leaving when you are trying to drive them away in the first place?
- - - - -
She kissed you yesterday. In the study after an afternoon entertaining a visitor from House Strider (her... cousin? You're unsure if that is the correct term). Your initial pang of jealousy evaporated upon noticing the ease the two of them fell into bantering and catching up. While you had issues in the past regarding that quadrant yourself, you would never think to deprive someone of time with their moirail--or whatever the human equivalent is, if they have a word for it.
You could smell soporifics on her as she took her seat by the fire, patting the arm of it's twin beside it for you to join her. The two of you spent a half-hour reading and knitting, respectively, before she motioned and asked you to double-check her work. When you sat up to peer across her chair for a closer look and she just sort of leaned in, softly pressing her lips to yours.
A moment later she seemed to realize what she was doing, flinching back and excusing herself, leaving you stunned as she all but bolted from the room.
This morning she spoke to you as if nothing had happened the night previous (humans are known to forget things done or said while heavily intoxicated) leaving you unsure of whether to bring it up.
You choose to err on the side of caution.
- - - - - - - - - -
It's been almost a week since you kissed Kanaya. Just remembering it makes you flush with embarrassment; that was supposed to have stayed very firmly in your head, not actually acted on. You'll need to avoid drinking so heavily if you wish to avoid such mishaps in the future.
Almost on cue, a small voice pipes up in your head, And if you acted on these deviant fantasies of yours? If she accepted you?
Regardless, she thankfully seems to believe you were too drunk (you were) and hasn't pressed the issue. You will have to make sure to control yourself better in the future.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Were you a man one might think you were flirting with me." You expected a smirk and further banter from her, as is usual for the verbal dance you two go through in place of more pedestrian conversation, but only receive a sigh instead.
"Kanaya, I was flirting with you."
Your eyebrows shot up fast enough that you're not entirely certain they're attached to your face anymore.
- - - - - - - - - -
(a week previous)
"It sounds like--and this is just the humble opinion of your lifelong friend here--you might have a crush on your wife. A shocking concept, I know." Dave takes a short swig of his drink (something with apples, you forget the proper name). He weathers your glare as stoic as ever.
"Yes strider, I am attracted to my wife. That happens to be exactly the problem."
He tilts his head slightly, hand on his chin. "I'm not seeing it. I mean you're hardly the first wake one morning to realize you enjoy people of the feminine persuasion--" He continues before you can cut in, "--even in a situation as ironic as yours."
You continue to glower over your mead, but Dave is having none of it; "It's not like trolls make a big deal out of that anyway."
That stops you. "Elaborate, strider."
He ignores your tone. "Most Alternians are less concerned with one's tackle and more with the willingness to fish."
"Right. And how, perchance, did you come across this morsel of information?"
"I actually talk to them, for one. It's hardly a secret, bro--with the way their relationships work it's kind of required."
"And I am to assume this isn't some elaborate jest, then?" You deadpan at him.
He flinches back, clutching his chest animatedly. "You wound me, friend. I happen to have it on very good authority that this information is legit."
"And whose authority would--"
He just gives you a ‘really, man? really?’ look.
Right. Wife. "And how is your bride faring?" Last you spoke with him, he had sulked and referred to her as 'the spooky spirit broad'.
He shrugs, "About as well as one could expect--there was a brief fling with a stablehand, but that seems to have worked itself out rather harmlessly. Since then it's as if she's an entirely different person; exploring the grounds, questioning the staff on things she's 'missed', and digging--merciful gods does she enjoy digging for some reason. Not to mention I've had to start coming up with excuses with how active she's been of late." Despite his complaints you see he looks quite pleased with himself.
You're taken aback at the casual mention of adultery, but you don't press the matter. "What of Egbert? I recall you passed through Northspire to get here."
Dave pauses, trying to properly word his response, "John is well, i suppose. The two of them seem to keep their distance for the most part. Then again being married to the heiress--and not even the nice one--would be trying, to say the least. Though the birds tell me that the both of them have taken a consort."
"Oh? Do tell."
"A rather crabby lowblooded fellow--used to be a guard, I believe. I didn't catch his name."
"He must be quite secretive to keep his name from you. The other?" The strider house was well known for their connections--even in the alternian empire it was difficult to keep information from them.
"There’s just the one."
Your eyebrows shoot up, ignoring your commands that they resettle themselves. You certainly hadn't expected John to turn to men (or anyone for that matter; he was completely uninterested in the topic of romance whenever the two of you spoke of it).