The Princess was the only person Mikhail had ever met whose silence was a weapon more fearsome than a sword.
She spent almost a half hour staring out the carriage window- her arms wrapped across her chest as though shielding herself from him. Even when he lightly touched his cheek as though still pained from her slap, she did not deign to notice.
The atmosphere was cold between them, but her silence wasn't reproachful. The small frown she wore... the way her brow furrowed just slightly... the way her fingers tapped nervously against her arm-- he knew this posture well. She was deep in thought, her mind working over the smallest details of what she had just learned.
This was not the way it was supposed to go. Grieta had agreed that morning to give the barest of details, to explain only that Queen Ora had been sent to the north as a sacrifice by the Emperor, and then, if pressed, she would explain that the Emperor was facing a possible revolt at the time, and had used the Queen's life to buy his own safety.
It was a simple explanation that made a great deal of sense and did not fall apart upon further scrutiny. It was perfect--elquoent in its simplicity, and almost.... almost true.
He never should have trusted Grieta. The details she had revealed were coldly calculated to lead the Princess toward the same path her sister had trod. It was cleverly done, he could see that now.
First, she'd approached the Princess full of false humilty-- bowing and scraping, and doing whatever she could to remind the girl of how the Vezdan people loved and honored House Eosin. Then, she'd convinced the Princess that by attacking Unaria, she had ruined all of her sister's carefully made plans and triggered the series of events that led to the Queen's death. This revelation had certainly shocked the Princess and immediately filled her with guilt and regret. Finally, she had deviously suggested that Queen Ora had orchestrated her own sacrifice-- that it was by her own will that she was sent to the ancient ones in the north. Even without explaining why, the Princess would be clever enough to figure it out on her own.
Queen Ora had not come to Unaria to marry the Emperor or end the war. She had not come to stage a revolt, cause chaos in the Empire, or assinate the Emperor. From the beginning, Queen Ora had known where the power behind the throne came from. She had known who the true enemy was. When she had come to Unaria, it was with the single-minded purpose of learning whatever she could about the ancient ones, and finding a way to destroy them.
Queen Ora had failed in this, just as anyone who had ever gone against the ancient ones had.
And now Grieta had burdened the Princess with guilt and regret and the knowledge that her sister had died in an attempt to accomplish a secretive plan, and once she discovered what Ora's failed plan had been, it was very likely that her guilt and her devotion to her people would lead her to try and accomplish it.
Which was exactly what Grieta intended. Nevermind the fact that Queen Ora herself had chosen her path, not out of loyalty to her people or a deep sense of righteousness, but precisely because she had believed her decision would keep the Princess safe and alive.
"I told you that Grieta... wasn't someone you should trust," he repeated.
The Princess's frown deepened as she continued to stare out the window.
"Sometime, she speaks truth... sometimes she speaks lies... and sometimes, she twists the truth so that you can't rightly say what it is," he continued.
"I suppose you would know best. You're quite well acquainted with her after all, aren't you, Mischa?" She replied brusquely.
Prince Mikhail winced at the sharp tone with which she said his childhood name, and then fought the urge to press his lips together.
He shouldn't have even given Grieta a warning, he should of sent a messenger for his soldiers the minute he walked out of the brothel house. Waiting until he returned to the palace was too long indeed!
He had secretly longed to hear the Princess call him by that name, to say it endearingly to him behind closed doors, to whisper it, scream it, murmur it against his ear... and now he never would. Grieta had sharpened his name and handed it to the Princess as a weapon to jab at him with.
"Though I must confess, it is odd to me that there appears to be such hostility between you and your lover," she mused, "One has to wonder what caused such a falling out between you."
What was in her head? Was she angry that he'd forced her to leave or was it that he threatened Grieta? Did she not just spend an agonizingly silent carriage ride thinking of all the reasons her sister had to face the ancient ones? Was she frightened and pretending to be nonchalant? Perhaps she was goading him to trick him into revealing something more.
Sometimes he wished he could give her a shake hard enough to make all the thoughts behind those large clear eyes fall right out of her mouth!
"You must have disappointed her something greatly for her to antagonize a Prince of the Empire without even any regard for her own life," she said and sniffed, at last shooting him a quick glance from the corner of her eye.
It was an odd question to ask in light of what she had just learned. Odder still that she had accused him of being more loyal to Grieta than to herself back in the alleyway. In fact...
"Are you..." Mikhail shut his mouth quickly, instantly regretting his desire to know.
"Am I what?" She snapped, finally turning to face him.
"Nevermind. I spoke in haste and thoughtlessness. It is nothing," he shook his head and scowled.
"You barely speak at all, so I doubt it was hasty and thoughtless. You might as well say it. What did you mean to ask?" she demanded.
"Are you... quite... quite comfortable... er-- warm enough? If you'd like my cloak-"
The Princess cut him off with a scoff and shook her head.
"You bold-faced liar! That wasn't what you were going to ask at all. Now I really shan't let it go. You'll have to say!"
Her voice sounded light, as though she were teasing him, but her expression and posture was annoyed. No matter what he said, he would likely only make it worse.
"Are you jealous of her?" He asked quickly, wincing as he heard his own voice.
The Princess jerked slightly, as though she'd been slapped, and glared furiously at him.
"Jealous? Jealous of HER? She's old enough to be my mother, probably yours as well. Shocked... perhaps.... maybe even a bit disgusted but... jealous? What ever would make you think- NO! Jealous, indeed! Absolutely not! I.. that's... you are quite ridiculous sometimes..." she muttered, becoming more flustered as she spoke.
"Yes. It was thoughtless of me to even ask," Mikhail quickly agreed. "Because if you were... that..."
"Jealous?" The Princess scoffed.
"Yes, that... if you were, you should know that between Grieta and I... there was never anything more than transactions." He mumbled dismissively.
"Transactions?" She repeated and smirked.
Mikhail immediately regretted speaking at all. The Princess had never been the sort of woman who shied away from discussing even the most improper sort of topics. However, perhaps, it was better that he allow her to occupy her thoughts with picking apart his awkward aquaintace with Grieta rather than to risk her continued silence.
Unfortunately, the ride was almost over. He could see the palace gates in the distance. Reaching back, he banged twice on the wall of the carriage- a signal the driver knew to mean that he should stop.
"Oh. Are you getting out?" The Princess frowned, cocking her head to one side. "Why? Is it uncomfortable for you? Discussing the transactions between you and your lover with your intended wife? It should not be. If your relationship with her was simply transactional, is ours not the same? An alliance, so that we can both get what we want?" She shrugged, her voice deceptively pleasant.
Mikhail groaned inwardly. There were indeed times when trying to understand the Princess and her feelings was beyond frustrating. It was like playing a game of chess where as soon as you could see a clear path toward victory, the pieces were reset.
"Yes. I get aide for Vezda and the security of a Unarian royal title and you get my silence before the Council of Seven Kingdoms and... what was it again... my pretty face?" She gave a short hard laugh at this. "What did Grieta gain from your transactions? I must ask, you understand, if only to ascertain whether my demands were too small."
"Money... influence... protection... sometimes, information," he listed calmly.
"All that for occasional sex? It seems she got the better end of the bargain," the Princess taunted.
"It wasn't only that," Mikhail answered.
"What else?" She demanded quickly.
"A shield... and... a teacher, of sorts,"he said hesitating a moment.
"Explain what you mean by that," she frowned.
"In my family, you know that children are... very hard to come by. Any man of my line is expected... no... required to-- there is a reason that the Emperor has so many wives and why there are so many royal brothels throughout the city," he began.
"Ah. You mean to say that it is the Emperor's fault that you cavort so often in brothels," she guessed.
"No. It was always by my own choice. I avoided any marriages largely due to the war, but also due to my reputation for... cruelty and violence. However, when the Emperor arranged a marriage for himself with Queen Ora, and it was assumed that the Vezdan War would end, people at court began to talk about the fact that I had taken no wives or lovers.
"Some said it was because I was half a monster, or sterile, or... worse things. The Emperor felt pressure to arrange my first marriage, and so I thought... perhaps if I... if I appeared to be a young man who was sewing his wild oats, so to speak, perhaps... I would not have to marry so soon."
"Even to those of us in far off Vezda, it was known that the Emperor was consumed with producing an heir. Would he not wish for you to save your... 'exertions' for legal wives who would give any possible child of your line validity?" She questioned, clearly unconvinced.
"Royal brothels offer roughly the same validity as wives. When new girls are brought in they are offered first to members of the royal family or high ranking nobles. If they are refused, then they may service other clients, but if they are chosen, they are only allowed to serve that man, until such time as the man no longer wants their service or they are confirmed to be with child."
"And then what happens to the girls? If they are pregnant or unwanted?" the Princess asked.
"If the child is wanted, the girl would become a lesser consort in the man's house. The child is valid in that way. If they are not wanted, the man pays a fee to the girl to serve as support. A girl who is not with child but no longer wanted is also paid a fee, and after a period of time, is allowed to serve other clients," he explained.
"I see," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
"You see that it is... very convenient for a man who wishes to have an heir, but does not wish for the burden and cost of a wife or consort without any assurance that he will have his heir?" The Prince confirmed.
"I see that in Unaria, women are little more than chattel. They can even be leased and rented," she said and sighed.
"Yes," he agreed, "but, by spending time in brothels, I was able to avoid both marrying and my brother's suspicions."
"And that is how she was your shield," the Princess realized.
"Yes," he nodded. "She understood my reasons, she had been a woman in my father's harem, after all."
"And how was she your teacher?" She demanded, raising an eyebrow.
"That..." he began and trailed off, pressing his lips together.
The Princess laughed again, a cold and short laugh.
"I see," she nodded.
"You don't," he growled. "For a man who has spent his life in rough company, among soldiers, with no mother or father to question or guide him... no one close enough that could even tell him... you don't understand."
"Then tell me so that I might," she encouraged, in a voicer gentler than he'd yet heard.
When he hesitated, she once again slipped her small hand into his own.
"I had... many misconceptions... about women. Beliefs I'd formed from listening to men talking loudly amongst themselves around campfires-- bragging, belittling.... I was misinformed," he began haltingly.
"About what?" she pushed quietly.
"I am... I cannot say... I..." Mikhail could feel his face burn, as a memory he always pushed to the farthest recesses of his waking thoughts presented itself to him. He withdrew his hand from hers.
"Is your tongue bound on this as well?" She guessed, incorrectly.
It would be easy for him to agree. To lie and say that it was, and yet...
"No. I cannot say because I do not want to see you disgusted or angered or afraid of me. You always push and say it is about trust... you want for me to say things that I do not tell anyone... but I know that if I do, it will only drive you farther away. There isn't anything good or kind or noble in my past. There isn't anything worth learning about me. Grieta taught me how to not cause a woman pain or injury from the acts that occur between men and women. Is that enough? Do you understand now?"
The Princess nodded mutely.
Embarassed, Prince Mikhail reached back and pounded his fist against the carriage wall twice. A moment later, the carriage again began to move.
As he glanced out the window at the approaching palace gates, fearful of seeing what expression she wore, he felt her small cold hand again slip into his own and squeeze his comfortingly.