I'm the middle of the katta when I realize exactly what this is whole ceremony is for. My limbs move from muscle memory as my mind churns furiously.
I don't want to be married... I don't want to be married... I don't want to be married. It's all I can think.
I falter, and loose my footing a bit. I feel nauseous, my head spins, and I'm nervous like I never have been before. I recover with a block and punch, but I've already done it before, and I'm sure Master Amir is cursing my now name by now.
I tell myself that I only have a quarter of it left but it's no use. My punches weak and I barely manage to move my legs.
I can see Saoirse's moves out of the corner of my eye, and they are decisive and beautiful, and she looks infinitely better than I do.
She IS beautiful, with her brown hair bound tightly in a bun with a silk strip of cloth. Her eyes are leaf green and her dress in made of some sort of woven plant fiber, dyed so that she looks like Calistime's famed leaf sea-dragon when she moves. It's hard to explain, but I can tell by the way her face is tightened she's thinking about the same things, and we both know we aren't cut out for this, not yet at least. She thinks it is as stupid and old fashioned as I do.
The drums finish their repetitive beating, and Saoirse and I blow out our torches. Darkness for a moment, then the servants rush around slighting all the torches. I look at her Saoirse out of the corner of my eye, and she nods slightly to me and then at the door. I nod back. She pulls her eyes forward as a servant takes away her torch, and I follow her example. We walk of the stage.
After both of us are redressed and washed up, we make our way back to the grand hall for dinner. Then we feast. Royal feasts are no small business, they are loud and dirty, and pleasing in a strange way. The chefs, who have more than put in their hours for this food, always sit by my father's left side, second only to my mother and the king himself. No matter how important the guest is, this is how it has always been, and more than a few enemies have been made by the way we sit. Over dinner I am sat next to Kansai, and he teases me all through dinner about my performance. I'm not really bothered by his, What was with those half-moons? And, Your palm strikes were unbearable! A baby could've beaten you! I'm really only interested in watching Saoirse.
She sits on the opposite end of our table, and she's laughing with Kaire and Emer, although she still looks wary. Like and assassin, I note. Kansai doesn't seem to notice, and neither do Kaire or Emer.
"Oi," Kansai whispers to me, "Stop staring at Saoirse like she's meat, it's weird."
I close my eyes irritably.
"I'm not. And," I add, looking up and staring knives at him, "If you had a fiancée you had never met, you'd be staring too."
"Eh," he says stupidly. "She's not staring at you."
"I'm not her though." He shrugs and drops the subject to go back to his usual banter. I sigh. Kansai is very stupid sometimes.
I notice Saoirse peering at me, but when I look back, she averts her eyes and politely smiles at a comment made by Chisaki, my Aunt.
By the time dinner is over, everyone's stomach is full and the rest of theirs bodies are weary. Servants dart left and right escorting members of Calistime's court to their rooms. I see Saoirse coming over to me, and I motion for a stairway curving downwards. She pushes past me and moves silently downward. I wait for a chance to do so myself, and then I dart down the stairs as well.
"Imrie, hm?" A voice says. Saoirse sits cross-legged on the stone floor.
"Yes. Saoirse, right?" I throw back. Neither of us are in a good mood.
"I guess we can forget the niceties. I don't want to marry you, and you don't want to marry me?" I nod. She can do the talking for all I care.
"Well, what do you propose we do." I sit down as well. Then I say,
"I've got no ideas." "That's pretty useless, huh?" She rests her chin in her hand. "Well what do you say we run away." I look up, startled.
"That sounds like a fool's plan." She nods.
"A bit. But if we both run our separate ways, they'll have half the royal guards search for each of us. Then we only have to be smart enough to not get caught!" She stands up and starts pacing.
"It's safe to assume that we won't have posters put up because some want the royal family dead..."
"Who says that?"
"There are always some crazies who want war when there is peace. They'll do anything to get it." She says matter-of-factly. I hang my head.
"What?" She asks.
"I was hoping that you'd be stupid so that we could get married." She stares at me, confused.
"I thought you didn't want to get married." She says.
"I don't, but sometimes it's easier to not have to do any work and not push against the wills of kings." I say. I also stand up.
"I suppose that's selfish and lazy. So what do we have to do to get this crazy plan to work?" We smile slyly at each other, and I can tell we could be friends, lovers even, if we were forced to be. I guess we just really don't want to.
We spend the rest of the night planning, setting up parcels of food hidden in nooks where we can get them easily when it's time to run. Getting horses and clothes and other necessities ready at a moments notice. Nobody looks for us all night, and we spend seven hours of uninterrupted work, and when morning comes we set off for our respective rooms tired, but much happier than we have been in months.