aithne: (Livia)
[personal profile] aithne
The first part of a Constantinople story.




The room had grown stiflingly warm, despite the open window. Livia had almost decided to give up on sleep, to rise and bathe and dress as if nothing at all were amiss, but instead she finally fell into a light sleep, this one not interrupted by dreams of torture but by altogether more pleasant dreams. She was dreaming of the last night she'd spent with Sextus, how he'd come home and actually picked her up, the first time in years he'd done so. She'd giggled with delighted laughter and completely failed to ask why he was being suddenly so warm. It had been a difficult few weeks, he'd been a bit distant in ways that she couldn't really put her fingers on.

He'd taken her to bed and kissed her ardently, clothing coming off under his roaming hands. She laughingly bitten him, and they'd fallen into a long evening of pleasure. Livia woke again, smiling, the dream having stopped short of the horrible moment when it had all ended. She shifted, and a lance of desire drove through her, so acute as to be almost painful. She came entirely awake with a whimper, curling herself up, her arms wrapped around her.

For a long moment, she could feel nothing but that desire. She took a breath and it subsided, dwindling into a low ache. She felt confused and guilty--her love had been taken from her, and it seemed a little like betrayal to have these desires return so soon.

My heart may be broken but my body is still whole, she thought. Her body knew what it wanted, even if she no longer had someone to give it to her. She lay in the center of the tangled sheets, damp with her sweat and knotted with her tossing and turning, and just breathed. Her hands wandered along her body, touching soft skin.

She could take a lover, if she desired. Widows often did, it was almost obligatory for one to have some sort of affair during the mourning period. It would be unseemly less than a month after her husband had died, but she was young and it would, after all, be understandable. For someone who had been trapped in an unhappy marriage, widowhood was a chance to explore pleasure for oneself, to express desires that may not have been fulfilled while one was bound in monogamy. Men played outside of their marriages--that deplorable fact was more or less accepted--but women didn't have quite that much latitude.

She entertained herself with the idea for a little while. It would have to be someone very different from Sextus, she decided. She didn't want to feel as though she were trying to replace him. She let her mind drift over the men she knew. The guards were all out--they were all terrible gossips, even worse than the kitchen staff, and most of them were married. She let her thoughts linger for a bit on Rusticus, the captain of her guard and an exceptionally handsome man, but he was married to the cook, who had a temper as poisonous as her cooking was superb.

She thought about the other nobles she knew. Some of the senators had handsome sons, a few of them too young to be married yet but still old enough to be quite toothsome. She eliminated all of the married ones out of hand, and all of those older than her--the first was too dangerous if word got out, and the second was the group of men she'd probably eventually marry from. It would be embarrassing if she were betrothed to the person she'd been having an affair with (though possibly convenient, she admitted).

There were boy whores, she knew, and such could be acquired at the baths she frequented. That might be the way to go--anonymous, and the boys were both beautiful and silent. She shifted again, and her thoughts alighted on one more possibility--Darius.

She turned that thought over in her mind, looking at it from all angles. Finally, she shook her head. First, they had to work together, and sex might make things very snarled indeed between them. Second, he evinced absolutely no interest in her whatsoever.

And third, he had been a gladiator. While slaves didn't marry, and she rather doubted that he'd had time in the years he'd been in mage training, gladiators had their pick of the women who inevitably threw themselves at them. They could, if they wanted, sleep with the most beautiful women the city had to offer. Livia knew that while she was passable and even occasionally pretty, she wasn't a match for some of the beauties she'd seen.

He worked for her. It was not her right to ask for anything else from him. If he offered, she could think about it then. He was much more valuable to her as a friend and ally than anything else.

Livia sighed and turned over. She'd need to get up soon, go attend to her affairs. She ran her hand over her skin, thinking about pleasure.

*****

Livia was dealing with money, tallying income and expenses. She hadn't seen a number of these reports and tallies before, but she was used to managing the finances of a large household. This was simply the same on a larger scale. Sextus had handled the finances of most of the Nerius family, since his father was dead and he'd been the only son. There were farms and shipping concerns, speculation in some of the outer provinces, and an estate in Britain that provided quite a bit of their income.

There was a knock on the door behind her. She turned as Rusticus entered. "A courier came, lady. He brought a letter." He handed her the parchment.

"A moment, Rusticus. I may need to reply." She turned it over and blanched as she saw the seal. It was from Constantius.

She clenched her jaw and slid the tip of her desk knife under the seal, gently dislodging it. The message was short, and simply asked if he could meet with Livia at her house that evening, around six.

She stared at the note, then remembered that Rusticus was in the room, watching. Quickly, she took out a wax tablet and wrote a quick reply on it. "Give him that, and this--" she handed him a pair of coins-- "for his troubles."

"I will lady. Are you all right?"

"It's just the heat, Rusticus. Go, please." He nodded and left. Livia put the tally sheets she'd been working with in order and rose to go find Orla and Darius. Time to put on the mask, she thought.

Orla's eyes widened when she heard that the regent would be coming here, and swept off to make sure that the room they kept for receiving guests was ready. Livia consulted with Darius about what they could do to make sure that Constantius didn't being in any people they couldn't see. Diya was told to stay in her room when the regent was here, and not to make a sound. They hadn't told her yet about the fact that Constantius was Geras posing as the regent, but she obeyed anyway.

All was ready, and right on time Livia heard the regent's carriage pull up on the street outside. She took a deep breath and smoothed her dress down, her mourning grey immaculate thanks to Orla. Tired, she reminded herself. Tired and torn by grief. Remember that.

There was a knock at the door, and Rusticus opened it. Livia rose from her seat and glanced at Darius, who was standing at her shoulder. His face was completely expressionless. She went to Constantius and bowed, saying, "Welcome, and come in. There are refreshments, if you would like some."

Constantius had a man in dark robes at his shoulder, wearing the familiar insignia of the priests of Christos. Livia controlled her start as she realized that this man could only be Linaeus. His resemblance to Lukas was remarkable. But his eyes were light blue, not the cat-slitted ones she'd been told about. He looked like it had been altogether too long since he'd had a wash and a shave, and Livia stopped herself before she began to wrinkle her nose. There was a rather rank smell in the air, and she suspected it was emanating from the priest. Behind them was a pair of bodyguards, men Livia barely spared a glance for. They seated themselves in the reception room. "Livia, it is good to see you," Constantius said.

She smiled, her nervousness completely gone now that she was in the moment. "Likewise. How is your wife? And Optata?"

"Both well. I am sorry to interrupt your mourning period, but I need to request a favor of you, as Sextus's replacement."

She looked at him with mild surprise. "Of course. What do you need?"

The regent inclined his head. "Ah, one of those social functions that needs attending to. Hagia Sophia's leader, Faydren. You may or may not have heard Sextus speak of him, but anyway he is giving his quarterly social event. He requests the regents attend, and in the past, I sent Sextus."

Livia nodded. "When is it, and where? I've heard the name, but not much more."

"Ah, that is the trouble. It is tomorrow night, the last night of your mourning, I believe."

She shivered and looked away. She could feel the weight of the decision pressing on her. I'm not ready, she thought. I'm really not.

Constantius cleared his throat. "Oh, forgive my manners. This is Linaeus, a cleric of Christos. He has been helping me with matters."

She glanced at Linaeus, who was regarding her with a steady gaze. "A pleasure to meet you," she said, her tone disinterested. She returned her eyes to Constantius. "It would be...inappropriate for me to attend in full mourning. I will work something out. Do you want me to be on the watch for something specific?"

"It is all right to refuse if you feel your mourning is not over. I can give Faydren an excuse. But if you could attend it would be most helpful." The look on his face was kind, gentle, so like the real Constantius that Livia felt nausea roil in her belly. "I am looking for any information that you think might be relevant to Sextus's death or anything else useful. The mages will talk more freely around you than the regent."

She shook her head. "It won't be over for a long time, but it's almost to the point that it's bearable most of the time. I will go. I need to find out who killed my husband, and why, and if you think they will talk more freely around me, then it would be worthwhile."

"I do, Livia. Please take a bodyguard with you." He glanced at the mage at her shoulder. "Darius, I assume. If you wish, you can take a dressing servant as well. Sometimes I have heard that Faydren's parties can get a bit messy. He tends to do lavish things and use magic and sometimes things get out of hand. A change of clothing or two may be advisable."

Livia blinked. What sort of party was she being sent to, anyway? "Messy how, exactly?"

"I heard that at one party one of the fountains geysered water and soaked the crowd." He gave her a smile, as if to say, mages and their foolish extravagancies, aren't they silly? "And if I can impose on you a bit more, could you take Linaeus with you as well? His social graces are sorely lacking."

She raised an eyebrow. "You wish him shown the art of socializing?"

"Just a jest, lady. He has ears like a bat, and he may overhear other things as well. You do not have to entertain him, just get him in with you and turn him loose, so to speak."

Livia glanced at Linaeus. This was a twist in her plans that she wasn't expecting. She'd seen this as an opportunity, an unexpected one, but if she needed to take Linaeus along with her--Damnit, this is a complication we didn't need. Outwardly, she nodded. "I can do that, of course."

"Thank you, lady. I have other things to attend too, so I should take my leave. Again, it is good to see that you are doing better. The function starts at sundown tomorrow. I will send my carriage and Linaeus just before." He rose, and Livia rose with him.

"My peace is a very fragile thing, Constantius, but thank you. It was good to see you, and I will see you at your house in a few days."

"Yes, I am looking forward to it." Did she imagine the smallest note of possessiveness in his tone? She bowed and Constantius turned and left, Linaeus and the bodyguards behind him.

Wordlessly, Livia walked towards the back of the house, to the workroom that had been set up for the mages. She dropped into a chair and put her head in her hands. "Well, that was nerve-wracking," she said.

Darius had followed her. He said, "A bit. the lion comes to dinner. But a good opportunity for you."

"A very good opportunity, but I think Linaeus has been sent to keep an eye on me as much as everyone else." She shook her head. The cleric's presence was something she was going to need to account for.

He nodded. "Or possibly to do something while he is there. I would recommend, lady, that I accompany you and keep an eye on Linaeus."

"That's what I was thinking. And Diya as my dressing servant, do you think?" She tilted her head. "It would be terribly convenient if something happened that forced she and I to need to retire to an inner chamber to change clothing."

He nodded. "Your decision, lady. Keep in mind she probably has the best chance of getting into Faydren's office but also keep in mind that if Constans is attending, she could be recognized."

"I think it's a chance we need to hazard. nobody really looks at servants, and if she keeps her head down and out of Constans's direct line of sight, it should be all right." She leaned an elbow on the table, turning in her chair so she was facing Darius. "And if he sees and recognizes her...well, he knows whose daughter she is. Of course I took the poor girl in, since Sextus left me instructions on his death to find her."

Darius inclined his head, taking her meaning. "And its possible--probable that he won't attend just like Constantius or Geras or whatever."

Reminded, she shuddered. "Geras does an excellent impression of Constantius, by the way. It's rather creepy."

"He does at that. He was always good a playing a role, from what I hear."

"He could probably pose as Linaeus, if he wanted to." She rubbed her temples.

"Worse yet, he might be after Faydren."

The thought stopped her breath. "Oh, damn. I hope not. I'd be put in the position of having to save him in order to use him for my own purposes--or not being able to, and there goes my handy scapegoat."

"Yes, it's fine line we are walking here, lady, and abysses on both sides."

She gave him a wry smile. "And, of course, I have to act as if I'm completely ignorant of all that's going on. That's going to be an interesting role."

His answering smile reflected her wryness. "You may wish to take up acting after this lady." His smile faded and his eyes took on a sober expression. "How are you holding up after last night?"

Livia shifted, pulling her palla up around her shoulders. "I'm trying not to think about it. I wasn't able to sleep this morning, but I didn't really expect to. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear him screaming." She drew a breath, glancing up at Darius. "And you? I know you've been a gladiator, but I don't recall that torturing people is generally part of it."

"No it's not, but I have seen enough blood and body parts flying that is tolerable." He shrugged.

She ran her hand over her plaits. "It's going to get worse. I know myself well enough to be able to say that. But I'll get through it." She sighed. "Let me go get Diya and brief her on her role."

*****

The next morning, Livia and Darius were sparring as the eastern sky paled. "You have to brace yourself," he was telling her, helping her upright after knocking her on her backside for the third time. "It's a matter of having a stable base but not being too stiff when you do get hit."

Livia grumped in frustration, but set herself again. She felt hopelessly incompetent at this part of her training, and she was improving far too slowly for her liking. Darius came around again, and though she tried to remember stable base, stable base, she went flying once more. This time she landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her, and tried to remember how to breathe.

"What are you doing to her?" came a familiar voice, astonished. Diya was standing in the doorway of the courtyard, her hands on her hips. "Darius, she pays you to beat her? You two are very strange."

Livia picked herself up. "Weapons practice," she said to the girl. "I'm afraid I'm a bit of a slow student."

Diya rolled her eyes. "I would be too if someone were trying to teach me how to fight like a gladiator." She eyed Darius, frowning. "She's half your weight and a head and a half shorter than you. She is never going to be able to take a direct hit without being knocked on her ass."

Darius was frowning at Diya. "And you have a better idea?"

The girl snorted. "Let me just show you. Livia, can I borrow that?" Livia handed her the potmetal dagger she'd been using. Diya shucked her palla, dropping it on a nearby bench. "All right, Darius, come at me."

He did, using his own dagger in an overhand motion. Instead of trying to dodge, Diya stepped into the blow, using her free hand to catch his wrist and pull him in the direction his hand was traveling. Darius stumbled and Diya crouched and jumped on his back, putting her arm around his neck, a look of glee on her face.

Darius grunted and sidestepped quickly, and Diya went tumbling off. She hit the ground and rolled, coming up crouched and grinning. The two of them went several rounds, until Darius managed to catch Diya's wrist and twist her arm up behind her back. "Those tactics are easy enough to counter if you know what to expect," he said, breathing hard.

"Ow! Let go, you ox." He released her, and she shook herself. She handed the practice dagger back to Livia. "The trick is that people won't be expecting them. Besides, you fought in the ring, you're used to fighting people with all sorts of styles. Most people aren't. You've got to work with what you have. If you're little, like me and the lady, you have to use that instead of pretending you're lots bigger than you are."

Livia wondered at the easy way Diya was speaking to Darius. She seemed to have lost her awe of the big mage quickly enough. "Could you teach me?" she asked Diya.

The girl grinned. "Be happy to. Let's see. Let's start with what you do when you have a big bruiser of a fellow coming after you, like Darius."

For another hour, Livia was taught in turns by Darius and Diya, and at the end of it she was bruised and sore but fairly confident that she'd be making more progress now. This was the sort of thing her mother had taught her, and she thought she'd catch on soon enough.

The day passed all too quickly. Orla was in a flurry, finding just the right dress and set of jewelry to indicate her mourning status, and Livia and Darius were in conference off and on through the whole day. The decision was made not to let Diya carry any weaponry, but Livia would have several small knives about her person, and Darius of course would have his sword. She would start looking for the strongbox in his library, where he kept all of his most valuable things, a room he evidently loved to show off during parties.

"I am going to tell you a rumor and you can do with it as you think," said Darius. Livia had just finished having her hair done and had banished Orla from the room for the moment. "Faydren always has a Sassenid harpist playing at these events, so I am told. Rumor has it that she is so good that she can turn the emotion of the room on a single note. If that is true, she is probably a mage, or a great bard."

Livia frowned. "Interesting," she said. "She might be a useful person to talk to, in any case."

"Be careful. The rumor is that Faydren uses her to probe the thoughts and emotions of the party, and this is why he gives these parties--to glean information from the crowd. It is why the regents very rarely attend."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ah. I should focus on being very sad, then, missing my husband."

He nodded. "Yes, keep your mind on other things when she is around."

"I'll warn Diya, as well. I haven't told her yet about Geras, and I think I'll wait until after the party. If I tell her now, she's going to be thinking about it." She shook her head. "I feel a little bad keeping her in the dark, but for the moment, she can't know. I want to wait till I know she's not going to do something foolish with the information."

Darius's smile was deep and wry. "Which she very well might."

"I was her age not long ago, myself. I remember what it was like. I don't know her well enough yet to know what to appeal to to keep her from doing something stupid and getting herself killed. Like going up against Geras herself."

"Or rescuing Esayis."

Livia sighed. "True enough. Our hands are tied there for a little while. Anyway. I'm taking the key that Sextus gave me with me, and a bit of discreet weaponry that can survive a drenching if need be. I can't think of anything else I need to take with me, except my wits."

He nodded. "Good luck, lady, but there is little I can help you with tonight." There was a flicker of emotion on his face that made her wonder if he hated to admit that. Nobody likes being helpless, she thought.

She pulled out of her case a set of three thin, jeweled knives, and set to wiggling one into her hairdo. "Would you keep an eye on Linaeus for me?" she asked.

"As best I can. Yes."

She was bending, securing one of the knives to her leg just above the knee, and missed the expression on his face when he said that. When she looked up, wondering about the odd note in his voice, he had his face in his habitual neutrality. "Thank you. If he's after Faydren, there's not a whole lot we can do, but if we can get what we need early in the evening, we can leave early. I do, after all, have an excuse."

He nodded. "Yes, you can leave early, but you have to bring Constantius some sort of bone, really."

"I'll see what I can do. Between the three of us, surely we can pick something up."

"I would hope so. Are you ready, lady? The carriage should be here soon."

"As I'm ever going to be. Let me get Diya, and we'll wait downstairs."

The carriage arrived, as promised, just before six that evening. Linaeus was in it already, having apparently finally taken a bath, dressed in fine clothing and not looking much like the priest that he was. Livia eyed him and decided that he'd do. He smelled much, much better than he had, at least. Darius was dressed in a version of his usual clothing in a better material, and was wearing the symbol of her house openly on his chest, along with the symbol of Hagia Sophia. He was leaving no doubt as to who and what he was.

Diya, on the other hand, was dressed in grays, a servant in a mourning household. She had agreed to keep her mouth shut and her ears open. Livia herself was dressed in a dark chiton with a grey palla over it, enough to remind everyone that she had just lost her husband, not enough that she would appear to be a small stormcloud in the midst of a field of flowers.

The ride to Faydren's house was very short, and they exchanged only small greetings between themselves. They were announced as they arrived, and soon afterwards Linaeus peeled away from them. At a nod from Livia, Darius followed at a discreet distance. Livia spoke to an officious servant who led Diya and their extra clothing away to where the dressing servants were gathered, enjoying a small party of their own.

Livia looked around, a smile touching her lips. All around her was opulence, the beauty and comfort of the world she had been born into. The main hall where she now stood was a marbled room with beautiful murals on the walls, low couches along all the walls and set in conversational groups in the corners. There were slaves wearing very little and bearing trays of food and drink, and she could smell the spices coming from some of these trays. The latest dishes from the central empire were represented here, including a few that Livia didn't recognize. And, of course, there were fountains of wine. Faydren had certainly spared no expense.

There was music, as well, and the harpist had to be the finest that Livia had ever heard. The music she was playing was lively, and touched even Livia's heavy heart and seemed to lighten it a bit. She clenched her jaw a little. She was not here to enjoy herself. She was here to work. All around her were people who were dressed in their finest, most colorful clothing and their most lovely jewels, here to see and be seen, mages mixing with nobles. She did see Julia but did not acknowledge her, and the mage returned the favor. Livia began to work her way across the room, greeting people she knew, having them introduce her to the people they were talking with. Each new name was committed to heart before she left each group.

She looked around but did not see any evidence of the other two regents. Finally, she had a heavyset man pointed out to her as Magentius, Constans's representative. Nobody was here representing Constantine, as far as she knew.

She finally managed to make her way to the man who was unmistakably the host. Faydren was in robes that must have cost a fortune and probably weighed as much as Livia did, heavy with metal thread and gemstones. He was tall and very thin, fine-boned, his long black hair held back from his face with a jeweled clasp. His nose was thin-bladed and aristocratic. Livia thought that he looked like the sort of person who must forget to eat on a regular basis. He should have someone remind him to do that, she caught herself thinking.

She inclined her body towards him. "Lord Mage Faydren. I am Livia Neria. Constantius sends his regards."

Faydren nodded. "Lady Livia. Sorry to hear of your loss."

Livia spread her hands. "Thank you, Faydren. I am bearing up as best I can. You have a beautiful home."

He smiled. "Thank you. Hagia Sophia is looking into the matter of your husband. It is but a matter of time until we find the summoner."

She met his eyes, letting some of her grief show. "I have every confidence that the Tower will find the miscreant. Hopefully before whoever it was does it again."

The smile stayed on his face, but it drained away from his eyes. She'd been thinking that his smile made him handsome, but now she was having her doubts. "Very soon, lady, very soon. And they will be punished."

"What is the penalty, exactly? Nobody has yet mentioned it to me."

"Drawing and quartering first and then cremation."

And who is the poor sucker you're going to get to take the fall for this, Faydren? She reminded herself to school her thoughts to silence. "Appropriate, indeed. I was there when the demon killed my husband. The sight will be a very long time in fading." She shook herself and gave Faydren a smile tremulous around the edges. "Ah, but I mustn't speak of such things, this is a party."

He nodded. "If you have need lady, then may I offer my harpist for a night or two? She can relieve the pain of memories for a time."

Livia glanced over at the Sassenid woman in question. Her dark hands danced over the strings, and though Livia would not ordinarily have thought her beautiful, there was something in her total absorption in her craft that made her terribly appealing. "I seem to be managing, but if it gets worse, I will certainly take you up on it."

"Good, lady, feel free anytime. Please enjoy the party, and have a look around the house if you are interested." The smile was back in his eyes, and as she thanked him again he bowed and took his leave.

Livia worked her way around the room. She could do this in her sleep, or while bleeding to death. Her mother had made sure of that. She spoke to many people, establishing herself in their minds as Constantius's advisor, dropping hints about her widowed state to people who looked like they might be interested in such things. Gradually, she worked her way over to Darius. "I'm going to look around the house," she told him. "You can stay behind if you like. I don't think anything bad could happen to me here."

Darius inclined his head. "Very well. Linaeus has been concentrating on Magentius, but has yet to speak with him."

"Interesting," she said in a mild tone. "All right, I'll be back in a bit."

The house was large, but she found the library easily enough. It was a large room, filled with scrolls and new-style books nearly from floor to ceiling, indeed several fortunes worth of books. A few people wandered in, mostly mages, making appreciative noises as they walked around. Livia imitated them, looking for something that might hide a strongbox.

The walls were lined with shelves and there was a free-standing bookcase down the center. The thing Livia found unusual was that the bookshelves to her right were one shelf shorter than the ones to her left. There was also a locked case, filled with valuable books, that appeared promising. She gave the room a silent promise to come back and discover its secrets later, and walked out, exploring the rest of the house.

She returned to the main hall, circulating once more. She ate very lightly and drank no wine, and kept very watchful. Her ears heard several tidbits of conversation that would be enough to tantalize her regent, and waited for an opportunity.

Later in the evening, the party began to die down. Faydren stood in the center of the hall and waved his arms, and above his head a pretty, hypnotic pattern of lights began to flash and flicker. The harpist began to play a tune, and Livia felt a sudden pull towards her. It was getting harder and harder to resist going to listen to her. Evidently, everyone around her felt the same way, mages and nobles alike beginning to drift in the harpist's direction.

Livia forced herself to recall the moment when she had woken to see the demon crouched over Sextus, letting herself feel the impact and the horror of it all over again. The compulsion to go listen to the harpist faded into the background, and she drifted against the tide of the people going to listen until she washed up outside of the room. The music faded and so did the urge to go listen, and she wandered until she found where the dressing servants were staying, beckoning Diya out of the room.

Silently, the two of them walked down the corridor. Livia purposefully wandered until they found themselves in the library. She looked at the locked cabinet and then decided that though it was easier than the wall, it was also more dangerous. "The wall," she said to Diya. "Above the bookcase that's too short. There's something wrong with it."

"It slants outward, see? Just a bit." Diya pointed. "It looks straight, but it's not."

"Odd," she replied. Livia walked up and ran her hand over the wall, which was indeed slanted at a strange angle. About four feet up from the ground there was a lump in the wall, nearly invisible under the paint, about two inches square and protruding about a half inch. She lightly probed it, finding a place in the middle where it gave to her fingernail, a small slit.

She pulled on the chain around her neck, pulling the key on it over her head. She concentrated on it, her eyes narrowed, and it changed to a flat strip of metal, which after a bare moment's hesitation she slid into the slit.

The wall in front of her disappeared. She blinked and turned, and discovered that it was behind her now, the key slit still there. She swore softly. Diya had no business being alone in the house, and if she were caught, if would go very badly for her. Get my business done and get out, she thought.

She looked around. The room was a cramped triangle, a glorified closet, about five feet wide at the end she was at and coming down to a point at the other. It had shelves from floor to ceiling, stacked with short wands and longer staves, books crammed into every corner, bottles with restlessly moving liquids inside. It was a closet, she realized. She was in the presence of probably more magical items than existed in one place anywhere else in the city.

They held no temptation for her. She looked around and spied, under scattered papers, what appeared to be a box with a lock. She squatted and concentrated on the box, the key in her hand changing to one that looked like it usually did. Livia smiled in triumph. She very carefully moved the papers after looking them over to determine that they were nothing she could understand, then fitted the key in the lock and turned it, holding her breath.

The lock clicked and gave way. Carefully, she opened the lid, then nearly jumped out of her skin when the box chimed a very quiet, "Hello, Faydren."

Calming her racing heart, she looked at the contents. There were two sheaves of paper on top, and she thumbed through the first to find it seemed to be a list of assignments of Hagia Sophia members. The second was a contract of some sort, between Faydren and--Constans? Interesting. She pulled from under her dress a soft cloth bag and put both sheaves inside.

The third item in the box appeared to be a gem, a bit smaller than a hen's egg. It was finely faceted, and it was a very light purple. She hesitated. Messing about with strange magic was like to get one killed, she knew. But she held her hand near, and she didn't feel anything odd. She touched it, and still the stone didn't react. She picked it up and smiled as the gem fitted into the curve of her palm. It was pretty, at least. Maybe Darius could tell her what it was. She dropped it into her bag, closed the strongbox, and locked it again.

Getting out was a matter of using the key once more, and she looked around. Diya was half-hidden by a bookcase, her eyes wide. Livia nodded and stepped towards the door.

The music was louder now, and it was very hard indeed to direct her feet away from the music. She ushered Diya into a small side room and closed the door behind her. The muffling effect of the closed door helped, but not much.

Livia sat in a chair and dropped her head into her hands. Diya leaned on the door, watching her. Livia, her eyes closed, summoned up her grief and her loneliness like a shield, clothing herself in it, hardening her heart. Finally, she looked up and said, "Diya, go back to your place. We'll be leaving soon."

Diya nodded silently. The two of them went out of the room and down the hall, Diya walking back towards the dressing servants' place with apparent difficulty. Livia paused in the doorway of the darkened main hall, then slipped inside. It seemed that everyone who had come to the party was there, standing stock still, listening enraptured.

In the middle of the room, on a chair that was almost a throne, sat Faydren. He had his hand on the shoulder of his harpist, who was playing with a heartbreaking tenderness.

The smile on his face was radiant with smug, self-satisfied pleasure--and more than a little malevolence. Livia swallowed.

She glanced around, looking for Darius. He was standing at the edge of the crowd, his head down, his shoulders bowed as if he were in pain. Livia stepped up to him and touched him on the elbow. He raised his head, and she said very quietly, "I think I need to go, now. I don't think I can deal with being in public much longer."

He nodded. "I think that's a good idea."

"Where's Linaeus?" Darius gestured across the room. The dim light might have been playing tricks on her eyes, but the priest looked as if he had a strange look on his face. Almost sadness, but not quite. Livia made her way across the room to him, keeping her head down and her thoughts on how tired she was, how much she wished her daughter would be there when she got home. She reached Linaeus, and saw that he was not moving, barely breathing, seemingly held rigid.

She laid her hand on his elbow, and he started. "Linaeus?" she said quietly.

He shook his head, as if he were waking up from a sleep. "How did you get there?" he asked.

"I walked across the room in plain sight. We're leaving, it's growing late."

Linaeus nodded. The strange look of sadness had mostly gone from his face, but a bit lingered in his eyes and around the corners of his mouth. "Yes lady, I think that's a good idea. The music is ending anyway."

He was right. A few moments later, the harpist's song came to a close. The crowd, who had been held rapt by the music, suddenly started moving again. She heard conversations start up around her, some in midsentence--"and that's how I got the damn cat out of the house!"

Livia nodded and made her way back to Darius, Linaeus following. She put her hand on his arm, as if to steady herself. "Let's go, gentlemen," she said quietly. Both of them nodded, and a few minutes later they had collected Diya and their spare clothes and had called for the carriage. As they waited, Livia asked Linaeus, "Are you all right? You seemed to be in some sort of trance in there."

He frowned. "It was a bit odd. The music was all that mattered. And thoughts, strange old memories coming to the surface. Ones I had hoped forgotten."

She tilted her head. "Ah. It didn't affect me that way, that's rather strange. The harpist is very, very good."

"Better than any I have ever heard."

She nodded. "Faydren offered to lend her to me for a few nights. He says she can ease the pain of memories for a while."

"May be that she can invoke them as well." He shifted, looking around. "I thank you, lady, for allowing me to accompany you. But Constantius's house is just there. I will walk."

Livia raised her eyebrows, but said only, "As you wish. I am certain I'll see you again, Linaeus."

He inclined his head, and a small smile touched his lips. "Yes lady, at the regent's house."

"In two or three days. Keep well, then. Give Constantius my regards."

He bowed slightly. "I will. Keep well." He turned and walked away as their carriage was brought around by the driver.

March 2017

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