Songweaver's Awakening

Chapter 32 - Anestan

Author's note: Four more chapters to go! :D

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The palace was no longer Anestan's home.  It was a prison.  She'd lived here all her life, but the walls that once gave her comfort now felt constricting.  Helen had moved some of her things into one of the guest suites in the palace.  She'd taken to her new role as Farahd's adviser with gusto, using every chance she could get to insinuate herself into meetings or hearings, a ubiquitous presence at his side.  It irked Anestan to no end, and made her sick with fear.

“There must be more I can do for her,” Farahd was saying.  “She's been such an immense help.  The Fair Folk are gone.  I thought at one point I was going to die and the Fair Folk would overrun the country.  I thought I would have to leave you alone, as the First Seat.”  Farahd shook his head as he reached for the bowl of dates.  “Now the rain will help me provide for the outskirters and I feel like I have my country back again.  And my health.”

Anestan looked up from her slice of spiced bread.  “She didn't bring the rain, Farahd.  She only brought the Talians.  That is all.”  What did Helen tell him in their hours together?  Breakfast and the moments before they slept were the only times Anestan knew she could count on having her husband alone.

Farahd gestured to her while he chewed, date in hand.  “No, she didn't.  But I asked her about the rain, about how she knew.  She had a moonchild in her employment.  They're these short, pale folk, and sometimes they can see the future.  The future, Anestan!  The moonchild predicted rain, and Helen listened.”  He shook his head and popped another date into his mouth.  “Can you imagine?  We're so closed-minded, Anestan.  We wouldn't employ moonchildren.  But she's not from Hajinn.  Do you see the opportunities that open up when you're not raised to fear such things?”

Anestan tore off a corner of bread, her heart sinking in her chest.  “Hajinn won't change her views overnight.  Nothing changes overnight.”

“I know,” Farahd said, “but it gives me hope.”

Anestan couldn't take it anymore.  She dropped the piece of bread back onto her plate and pushed it toward the center of the table they shared.

Farahd's brows raised.  “Not hungry anymore?”

“No,” Anestan replied.  She pressed her palms onto the dark wood surface of the table and breathed in deep.  She had to start being honest with Farahd.  “I don't trust her, and you shouldn't either.  She's a foreigner, but even this is not the reason behind my suspicions.  How do you think a foreigner, a woman, found herself as the Third Seat?”

Farahd looked at her, dropped the date from his hand back into the bowl.  “You're serious?”  When she did not reply, he went on.  “Anestan, before I came back to Hajinn, you were in line to be First Seat.  You would have been the first woman to take the First Seat in a hundred years.  How do you think that happened?”

Anestan wrung her hands in her lap.  Oh, he had her there.  She couldn't be completely honest.  Not yet.

Farahd shrugged.  “It's pure coincidence, Anestan.  I don't care about the whispers, or the rumors.  She saved this country by bringing the Talians here.  It would be brutish of me to turn her aside.  She deserves to be honored as a hero.”

Anestan tried a different argument.  “Hero?  What about all the children that died from the smoke that was thrown into the tunnels beneath the city?”

Farahd's expression grew pained, and almost immediately, Anestan regretted the words.  It was a sore spot for him, that not all the children could be saved.  Most were.  Most were dragged out from beneath the city by Talian or Hajinni soldiers, dazed and confused, but eventually reunited with their families.  Some, however, were left behind, the smoke filling their lungs until they could no longer breathe.  She was glad she hadn't mentioned the more mysterious deaths.  Some of the men had died where they stood, not a mark on their bodies.  It was if their hearts had simply stopped.  Nessor's report had chilled her to the bone.  No one had spoken of it since.