Snowblind {complete}

Wet - Trust

From then on, Lanna had the duties of a dance instructor added to her already hefty schedule. She also realised how indebted she was to the Haven Islands princess and Orphony. Without them, Ceseed would have pressed to have her expelled from the Hall of Flowers. They had protected her and she didn't know why or what they would ask in return.

After the disaster with Ceseed, Lanna took care not to leave the workshop for anything other than instructing concubines in dance. She found herself terrified of offending the concubines at first, but after a few sessions, those without aptitude left, citing boredom or more pressing concerns.

Those that remained were enthusiastic and enjoyed the two hours of instruction Chowa had allowed Lanna to undertake once a week. The women even practised outside of the sessions. The Haven Islands princess joined for the sessions. Though she hardly spoke she did introduce herself formally as Itzander, third daughter of the king of Haven.

The palace buzzed like a nest of hornets with the impending solstice. The mere possibility the Emperor may pass an edict had the entire palace in a frenzy that the Hall of Flowers whipped into a bubbling froth. The rumours, gossip and counter-rumours made Lanna dizzy. The Emperor hadn't been seen in the women's palace for three weeks. No one knew what occupied him. Chowa had visited him in his rooms at the Hall of Law but remained tight-lipped.

Lanna remained quiet and diligent. She had much to think of. What had happened in Ceseed's room disturbed her. She had felt nothing from the presence since. Did it rest?

She also remained dubious about what Chowa intended, but she didn't trust the presence either. Everyone kept things from her and Lanna didn't know if she should pursue further information.

Chowa had brought her to the palace with a particular purpose; Lanna's work as an assistant was secondary, whatever it may be. Where the presence came into all this though Lanna couldn't say. It was all connected – somehow. It took Lanna two days before the solstice to finally make a resolution. She would pull Chowa's feathers. If the woman blinded her then so be it.

Lanna chose her moment: an evening lesson, writing at the meticulously scrubbed workshop bench, perched on a sturdy stool while she copied poetry. She had a firm grasp of the basics of Imperial now and had expressed an interest in studying poetry to improve her vocabulary.

Lanna liked the short, sweet poems the Imperials took such pride and care in crafting. Tiny little scenes sketched in no more than ten words: mere flashes of mental imagery that, because of their brevity, stayed with the reader long after their consumption. Lanna blew on her ink and carefully set her brush aside on the ink tray, regarding her work with satisfaction. The black characters were crisp, neat and she understood every single brushstroke. A little thrill flushed her cheeks.

The electric light above flickered. Chowa would soon be going to the archive to bring back more tubes. Not even the Emperor had electric light. Lanna had first thought the containers were filled with some sort of glowing formula. She preferred oil lamps, but had to admit the electric light was more comfortable to read by. Her eyes glanced back to her poem.

*Bronto on the path,

Show their visceral grace,

Then disappear*

Lanna could almost see a curtain of swirling snow part briefly in her mind's eye, the dangerous white birds revealed. One looked up, head twisting into the wind, and its jagged beak swivelled in her direction, sharp avian eyes fixed on her. The bird's gaze held suspicion. Lanna admired its powerful legs; the clawed feet that could pierce her skull. The bronto snapped its beak once, then disregarded her. The snow closed in and the moment faded.