Talia paused briefly before the door to the dining hall and adjusted her short cloak. It wasn't the first time she'd received a message asking her to take her meal downstairs, but it was the first time she had received a message that was not from the Prince himself.
The Prince's aide had sent the request this time, and though she would normally ignore such an invitation, she could not help her curiosity.
It had been almost two days since the Prince and his men had rode out, seemingly on the Emperor's orders, and though her servant Fioria had tried to discover what those orders had involved, she had so far been unsuccessful.
Talia would take the opportunity to ask Ilya directly.
The Prince's aide stood up as she entered the Hall and bowed in greeting to her.
"Good evening, Princess," he called as she crossed the floor to him.
Talia nodded her head in response and took a seat directly across from him. Almost immediately, a kitchen worker approached and set down plates of greens, fresh biscuits, butter, roasted chicken, grilled potatoes and peppers, and a large roasted zimasquash basted in oils and spices.
She had since learned from her maid that table manners in the Empire were far different, and now she knew to wait as the servant moved each dish in front of her. A nod meant that she wanted a helping of that dish-- two nods meant an extra helping. Remaining completely still meant that she did not want the dish. It had seemed rather arrogant and an unnecessary waste of time, but today, she would observe the rules. She needed to make a good impression.
"Thank you for joining me, Princess," Ilya began.
"Well, certainly. I have precious little else to do," Talia replied and then winced at the accusatory tone in her voice. She had not meant to begin in so grating a manner. "I... I mean only that... I had assumed that I would be able to train daily." she added quickly.
"Ahh... yes. Well, our Prince had ordered a shield gauntlet be made specifically for your training, and that may take some time," Ilya smiled pleasantly.
Talia took note that he did not mention the Prince's absence, which was far more likely the reason her training had stopped. She smiled in response.
"Yes, I believe he had mentioned that," she said agreeably and speared a piece of the zimasquash.
"And, of course, there is the fact that our Prince is currently away on the Emperor's business," Ilya continued.
Talia took a moment to take a bite of squash and chew it in a slow and unconcerned manner.
"Do you know, this squash is quite tasty. It reminds me of one we grow in the Madrost region," she remarked at last.
"Does it?" he grinned and raised an eyebrow.
Talia cursed inwardly. He was clearly unconvinced by her displayed lack of interest.
"Mm-hmm," she agreed, taking another bite.
"Between us..." Ilya continued, dropping his voice to a conspiratol low volume, "I also had the distinct impression that your last training session left our Prince somewhat... upset."
"Upset?" Talia repeated, raising an eyebrow as she cut a slice of chicken deftly from the bone. "My, that meat looks very tender, doesn't it?"
"Hmmm... perhaps upset isn't the right word. Embarrassed, I suppose... maybe even mortified. I had the distinct impression that something had happened that he seemed... regretful over," Ilya mused.
"Odd," Talia scoffed. "Your Prince doesn't strike me as the type that feels any shame."
Ilya chuckled at this, though she had clearly meant it as an insult.
"Well, not before the Princess of Vezda, of course," he agreed. "But between us... I think he must have done or said something which later caused him no small amount of shame."
Talia drew a short, annoyed breath and set her fork down.
"Between us," she said, parroting his friendly term, "Your Prince attempted to take certain liberties with me during training, which I was quick to put a stop to. I hope he doesn't train all of his soldiers in such a manner!"
Ilya laughed out loud at this and sat back in his chair.
He shook his head after a moment, still grinning.
"No. No, I don't think that's a normal part of the training. But, between us, I'm sure you've noticed, the Prince has something of a soft spot where the Princess is concerned," Ilya teased.
"A SOFT spot?" she repeated with a snort. "That's not the term I would use for it."
Ilya laughed again, hard enough that his eyes began to water. He dabbed at them with his napkin and sat back in his chair again.
"Forgive my Prince, he means you no harm, certainly. He came of age on a battlefield and spent the entirety of his youth among rough soldiers. His social skills are... well, they occasionally leave much to be desired," the Prince's aide admitted with a shrug.
"I suppose that's one way to put it," Talia remarked dryly.
"No, our Prince has a certain... fondness for you. He's mentioned in passing that he's known you since you were a child, which is likely why he has done his best to keep you alive and out of the hands of the Emperor," Ilya continued, ignoring her comment.
"The way you phrase that, one might think that your Prince does not believe his brother's intentions are moral or good," Talia remarked.
"Yes," Ilya agreed simply and took a contemplative sip from his ale mug.
"One might further wonder why your Prince would so willingly devote himself to a ruler who he did not believe was either moral or good," Talia frowned, spearing another slice of squash and popping it into her mouth.
"I think if one were sharp, and one had already seen what you have seen over the past few weeks, one should have wondered that many times already," Ilya smirked. "And I would further suggest, that if one had no bias, one might quickly realize there are any number of answers to that question and not all of them suggest that our Prince is a particularly bad or immoral sort of man."
Hard to avoid bias when the man has killed your father and sister, Talia thought inwardly. To Ilya, she simply nodded her head as though she agreed.
"And what answer for it would you give?" she asked, finally glancing up to meet his eye.
Ilya seemed to consider it for a moment before he took another sip of his ale.
"I would say that it's a question you should ask the man himself," he mumbled.
"Do you think he'd answer it honestly?" Talia frowned and cut another slice of chicken.
"I don't know," Ilya admitted. "But I will say this, I believe that our Prince desires a more cordial relationship with you. If not friendship, then something more akin perhaps to allies. He is, however, a man of few words, and often enough, those few words are not pleasant or kind ones."
Talia considered this for a moment before speaking.
"And this is why you requested to meet with me?" she guessed. "You thought that by speaking with me, you might attempt to improve relations between Prince Mikail and myself?"
"Not at all," Ilya chuckled. "I don't know if the two of you would be able to resolve your differences even at swordpoint. No, I asked to speak with you for an entirely different reason. I'm certain you've noticed that our Prince and most of his men were called away a few nights ago. Nothing overly concerning, I assure you. The Emperor requires that he deal with a squirmish in the Highlands. However, before he left, the Prince requested that you be allowed to visit your sister's grave in Pirchburg. We've been granted permission, but under the restriction that we do so as inconspicuously as possible. We shall take only a few servants and travel at night when the roads are empty. I would advise you to pack your warmest clothing. Pirchburg is in the northern territories, and there should already be snow on the ground."
Talia dropped her fork.
"My... my sister's grave?" she repeated. "I had thought... no one had even mentioned... why... why was she buried in the north?"
"Pirchburg is the site of the royal grave which is farthest from the Capitol. The Emperor did not wish your sister's passing to be widely discussed and did not want a spectacle made of her funeral or burial," Ilya explained.
"Why?" Talia demanded, unable to keep the sharp tone from her voice.
"Why do you think?" Ilya snapped.
"Well then, why not wait until the Prince returns to-"
"Our Prince, through no fault of his own, is one of the least inconspicious people in the Empire," Ilya interrupted her question. "He draws attention wherever he goes. No, we will meet up with the Bludston troops when they return from the Highlands."
Talia thought quickly. It was certainly very suspicious that they wanted her to leave at night and avoid as many eyes as possible-- and yet, the Northern Territories of the Empire were in the opposite direction of the Capitol and the Emperor's dungeons. She would know the moment they were on the road what direction they were traveling.
"There are things I would require... certain prayers and ceremonies that must be said. Incense, foods, gold coins... I would need to gather--"
"Yes, yes, of course. Send your maid to the head of staff with whatever you may need for travel. I will see that it is filled," Ilya waved his hand dismissively.
"Then I must excuse myself, for there are many things I must see to before I will be ready to travel," Talia said, sliding her plate to the side.
"Indeed, but before you go, there is something I feel I must say, between us, you understand. You are an intelligent young woman, Princess. In the future, a few kind or sincere words to our Prince, and I would bet my wage you would find your life becomes quite comfortable," Ilya suggested, smirking in a way that Talia found entirely irksome.
She stood and tossed her napkin onto the table.
"Between us," she replied coldly, "a life of comfort has never been a particular goal of mine. If you'll excuse me."
With head held high, the Princess swept from the room.
Ilya smiled to himself and shook his head.