Sophia and Zai wait in the main sitting room, cleared over the course of an atrocious hour as both the Guardswoman and Impericutta mercilessly flipped over furniture looking for primed grenades, poison traps, or even something the Tianci Guard referred to as ‘mono-molecular wire;’ capable of cutting through flesh clean without even the victim’s knowledge.
Ridiculous, of course, Sophia herself thought that such a technology would be wildly impractical, much less dangerous to even its user who would have to deploy such an invisible, lethal wire without lopping off their own limbs by accident.
Still, it was almost comical as from the other room they could hear the crashing and thrashing as furniture was being tossed end to end in an attempt to discover such a mythical item of assassination.
Sophia Elise watches her partner from an off keyed stance, herself standing as a stranger within a house as an uninvited guest. Silence the dialogue, observing the slow moment to moment of his slow observation of the displayed items within the huge antechamber
Fine porcelain plates and cups, long coated in layers of dust sitting unused in redwood holding cases, line shelves and walls alongside paintings both of landscapes of distant countrysides and portraits of unknown Tiancin individuals.
Zai slowly takes care to make words, describing each one with just names and titles. “Kansan,” He speaks gently, staring at the rolling green pasturelands of an oil painting; “Akemi.” He continues as he watches the face of some old, boney Tiancin woman.
“They all paintings of Tianci?” Sophia asks casually.
It takes a moment for him to answer her, a longingness to his tone. “Yes. Old nobles, and states…”
And so many more; every state within the dominion, an endless torrent of the Tianci family seemingly represented here. Paintings from artists more diverse than art styles both derivative and original; from gorgeous realist chalk renditions of vast cities, to splatterings of colors brought together to create shapes of shepherds herding goats across mountain villages.
Something ends him, ends every name and state and landmark whispered beneath his breath.
Prince Zai Tianci stops only for one
It's barely the size of an open palm, displayed so gently in its frame like the preserved wings of a butterfly. A photograph, gray and chemically washed with an archaic methodology sits amongst the art like an afterthought; but yet something pulls him into it.
Her long hair, braided together in a single strand, falls to her hips; the dress more reminiscent of an old Ensolian style than the Tianci cloth; while her face held an untraditional smile. So beautiful, gentle; even the small, candid peek that Sophia could make from her position a few feet away making her gasp at the supernatural calm that washes over her. This was a soul of oceanic proportions; something that commanded love above all else, something that brought from behind the ruling veil the antithesis of violence; a demand for peace just by appearance alone.
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Sophia sees the features in Zai, much more than his father. From his mother came his carved facial features, the sharpness of his jaw, and the longing gaze he always carried with him.
And Prince Zai Tianci stares at the photograph, at the pregnancy within the body of his own mother.
She begins without thinking. “I suppose that she’s…”
STOP. The Fourth Princess stops the small quip, interrupted by a snap election of the thought processes before she can make that lethal mistake. Never bring this before him. Under no circumstance should you speak of this.
Because within that millisecond pause on the Prince’s face she finds the words spoken to her in utter silence: No human should carry the guilt of being the blade that killed their own mother.
Prince Zai gently puts the photograph of the woman down, not even looking at Sophia as he declares the terms of this arrangement. “We should live in separate rooms. There are at least five bedrooms in the western wing, take one of your choosing.”
A long stop as the young woman accounts those words, of that specific implication given to her and this relationship. These long nights would be spent separated by plaster walls, alone in the cold darkness of this foreign nation; no soft words or rustling bedsheets between this union of strangers.
One of the more pious thought processes slams its hand down onto the council table. Did you honestly think he’d let you take him the first night? You think him a slut, allowing a woman whom he barely knows to steal a first essence from him? You are truly beyond saving.
Sophia Elise keeps her composure, letting a smile of agreement escape her lips with much grace. “Of course, that’s an acceptable compromise.”
She hoped he didn’t notice the strange pang of disappointment that was currently filling her heart, one that the entire central consciousness committee immediately begins to deny the existence of.
There’s even more clamoring in the other room, a yelp of surprise from the harsh voice of the Impericutta along with the racking of their sub-machine gun. “CONTACT WAT…”
“HEY CHILL OUT!” The Guardswoman yells, calming the situation instantly. “Relax, it’s just a mouse. Gods damned it, you’re gonna give me a heart attack here!”
“Ugh, we’ll be here for days if this keeps up.” Sophia takes a moment to stare at her partner before reaching towards the far, uncleared door and hallways beyond. “I doubt anyone has even attempted to plant any booby traps in here.”
A panic in his reaction, reaching out to her before she carelessly throws open the door. “Wait don’t --”
There are no bombs, no traps set in this place long forgotten amongst the piles of purchase records and popular knowledge. No exotic vectors of assassinations planted in years prior by traitorous caretakers nor any ruination in its architecture by neglectful contractors.
The house, in its everlasting virgil, has remained as it always has been.
“I think you’re far too tense.” Sophia mockingly smiles. “Who would even dare attempt to kill us anyway?”
An innocence, gross naivety, or perhaps a bottomless confidence within her; the Prince’s gaze falling to wide eyes and a panicked yelp as thankfully no mechanism is triggered in the seconds of the aftermath of this action.
A look on Zai Tianci as he thinks of speaking, yelling at this act, but instead he keeps his mouth shut. Watching quietly as the Fourth Princess of the Ensolian Imperium walks ever so casually down the hallway; away from their guards while beckoning him to follow with a quick flick of her hand.
Like a master to their dog.
