Snowblind {complete}

Dry - Li

Lanna had never thought any male beautiful, but there could be no other word to describe Ashioto. He reclined on a wooden throne of carved hardwood, a wadded cloth of woven white feathers providing comfort for the Imperial rear and back.

Tight black silk glided over the planes of his chest and stomach, accentuating his lithe frame, while a red silk sash held the garment closed. Ebony slippers adorned his feet.

Lanna wanted to touch the fine fabrics.

What garments were worn under silk garments, if any? she wondered, not for the first time.

Her eyes darted up once more as Chowa launched into a formal greeting. Chowa needed to reaffirm her absolute loyalty – or so she claimed. Lanna stole another look at the Emperor and tried to regulate her breath. Ashioto wore his hair long, and midnight strands hung around his face, shoulders and chest as if it had been arranged to be displayed at its best. For all Lanna knew, it had been.

He wore no ornaments or jewellery. The lighter hue of his skin spoke of much time spent indoors. Lanna supposed a deep colour would be a mark of hard work, and none of high rank would wish to appear as if they laboured outdoors. Yet what of people like Epen, born dark of skin? How were they viewed? What of her? So pale her skin showed the blue of her veins?

Chowa's voice droned on. 'Oh, most exalted of entities, I humbly prostrate myself before you and beg your forgiveness for my rough appearance. Mighty protector of our people, I beg your forbearance for my delay as I—'

'Chowa-hem, can you spare me the formalities? You're the only person I know who can remember all twenty official forms of address. You don't need to remind the rest of us of your powers of recall.'

There was a chuckle to Lanna's left. There were three other women here – she guessed by the voices – but she dared not turn her head to look at them.

With a whisper of silk, the Emperor reclined further on his throne. 'You know what I have asked you to call me, Chemist.'

Chowa hesitated then spoke in a rush, 'I entreat you, Your Highness, I cannot call you that – especially not in public.'

'So my name isn't good enough to be used in public?'

Lanna fought to keep a straight face as the Emperor toyed with the stiff woman.

'Of course not, Emperor A-Ashioto!' Chowa exclaimed. 'I only meant...'

The Emperor laughed, the pitch far too high for the image he projected. He stood in a swift motion and Chowa took a step back, but the Emperor captured her hand in his. Chowa blushed to the roots of her hair.

'You were very much missed, Chowa-hem. Indeed, I have missed teasing you.' The mirth drained from his face, features smoothing into neutrality. 'Did you bring it?'

'Yes, Your Highness.' Chowa gave a gesture to the sack-carrying slaves surrounding the bottom of the dais, and the Emperor's face broke into a bright smile, as if the cast of his features hadn't carried a demanding chill a moment ago.

'Excellent. Have you roasted the beans?'

'Of course, my emperor.'

'Then prepare some for me,' he ordered before returning to his throne, lounging over it and pinching the bridge of his nose. Dark eyes drifted over Lanna for a moment then swept out over those below the dais.

Chowa took a pestle and mortar from one of the slaves. She then put a handful of brown beans from one of the sacks into the mortar and motioned Lanna to kneel at a corner near the edge of the dais. 'Grind to a fine powder,' she ordered.