Turn A--Results, Part 5
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn A--Part 5
The gift had been appreciated, in its own way. Arimi had a hand that could not help but cast out money to the rolling of the bone dice and the other forms of gambling. He bet on horses and men and gusts of wind. Anything that could be bet on, he was liable to give it a try. And that meant of course that he lost as much as he won, though if he merely bet on his own actions…
There was a reason, after all, that Kiralo had brought the man, and he was sure if it were down to betting on victory in this race or that, this contest of manliness, or, for that matter, seeing who could stand the longest while downing the most drinks, he'd be so rich that Kiralo himself would be begging him for spare change.
After all, Kiralo himself had none of his skill. If it was a skill. He drank a few drinks and then he was wobbling, while Arimi laughed at him and kept on going. And going. It probably wasn't healthy for the body, but it seemed healthy enough for the man's soul, and he was at least learning to fit in with people who no doubt might have hated him as a foreigner if it wasn't for the shelter of Kiralo's name.
And from what Arimi said, the name meant something. And not just for lineage Ainin, but because he was a man who had power and used power. If he had been in less of a hurry, or if he had sought it he might have even begun to gather a group of followers around him. He probably would have to eventually. He was but one man, and the way that men gained power was to gather offices to themselves...and their followers. Followers, contacts, and allies. At some point he was going to have to make the transition from power player to established authority.
It wasn't going to be today, slightly hung-over, walking through the halls looking for Yanmae's rooms. She was quite a way from everyone else, or so it seemed, in a location that was near the temples and yet set back a little, almost but not quite at the imperial quarters. Which of course made one wonder.
The spirits flowing through the air, filling it, certainly indicated the day and the location better than any map could. And a map was what he had, because it was madness to imagine that he would know the whole palace city even after six months. But this...this small door into this somewhat small building was it.
He glanced up at the windows, but he couldn't see anyone at them, and it was likely she was further in as he opened the door and walked through. He felt it even then, the spirits pressing in at all ends. Power rested here, if only the power of protection, and at the end of the hall was a single guard. A single guard and a single door.
And through the door was a house like anyone else's, but...different in a way. It was clearly not a house that saw company, for many of the vases and wall hangings were old, out of the modern fashion for them, and more than that, the furniture that there was looked as if it had been chosen carefully, but without the constant concern for the latest fashions.
More than that, the choices were...careful as well. Scenes of war were not common in any home, of course, certainly not on wall panels, like the ones set up near the set of sliding doors that probably led beyond the antechamber. But there wasn't a single scene of hunting either, and that combined with the fact that a harried looking older woman in a careful but slightly old fashioned dressing robe was the one moving to greet him told Kiralo all he needed to guess.
This was a household of women, and one ruled over by the woman in front of him. Her and Kuojah, that is.
"Yes, who is it?"
"I did in fact have an appointment with Cs-Yanmae," Kiralo said, quite carefully.
"Cs-Yanmae? Don't give her…" the woman shook her head, "I am Yin'la, her tutor in the arts she shall need in the coming years. This way, she's reading at the moment." She sounded vaguely disapproving, and Kiralo frowned as he followed the woman. She was remarkably tall for a woman, and impressive in her movements. Or rather, in the control they implied.
"You sound as if you disapprove," Kiralo said.
"Reading is a filthy habit for a young girl. Knowing how is important, and perhaps studying some of the teachings of the scholars might be proper, but she has taken it too far, and so has Cs-Kuojah, though bless his name and I'll deny it if you--"
Kiralo blinked, slowly. She was too used to the confines of this place, if she was willing to speak so frankly. He listened to her talk with a careful ear. She was self-assured in her power, and yet it was a fragile bubble indeed. Because as she said, as she implied in her own dismissal of Yanmae's learning, there was that implicit statement.
That it was not proper for a woman to do such as Yanmae had done. Which seemed to be...reading and scholarship?
Down the hall, and through a door brought him to a surprisingly large library. It had perhaps two or three hundred books in large shelves stretching to the ceiling, and in a corner, near a window that looked out into a small, barren courtyard, was Yanmae.
His mother had said that Kuojah had had beautiful hands, and that he'd been more handsome than he might look at first, and certainly Yanmae was a surprising sight. Short, but with delicate and finely wrought features, with skin that looked soft from even a distance, dressed perfectly in red and grey Hanfu, her hair done up in a complex and restrained hairstyle that drew just the appropriate attention away from herself.
And when she turned to look at him, her eyes were piercingly intelligent and yet polite enough that he began to see Kuojah's point. Or at least, his desire that she do more than merely marry a figure of moderate importance. If he was protecting her for some greater marriage, then it all made sense.
"Greetings, Cs-Kiralo. Brother-by-law," she said in a formal, careful voice, as she set aside the book she had been examining.
It was a book of law, in fact. He frowned, more startled than he thought he could be.
"Greetings Cs-Yanmae, it is a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Thank you. It has been some time since I have had a visitor."
He shook his head and asked, "May I ask which volume that is?"
"It is the volume on the historical laws of the grain harvests and distribution for northern Hirand. It is a topic far beyond the mind of a woman, or their interests, but father was looking into the matter, and so I offered to be of what meagre assistance I could provide."
Or perhaps Kuojah, Kiralo realized, was saving her for something beyond marriage. "And have you found anything?"
"I have found that the laws favor our father's plans to force the issue of southern Hirand."
The issue of southern Hirand...the issue of...ah. The south of Hirand was likely to give their troops to Basret and Jinhai, and thus also their grain and any resources they had. So, what? Did he want their grain stockpiles or their winter crops?
"But is that his plan?" Kiralo asked, carefully, "The laws might say one thing, but they have to deal with the reality on the ground. Prince Jinhai doesn't have time to take personal revenge on them, but he doesn't have to." Kiralo stepped forward. "I apologize if this is cutting too much to the chase, but are you sure that Cs-Kuojah is planning on using law to press the issue?"
Yanmae frowned and shook her head, "No, sorry. I am no doubt wrong." She sounded slightly discouraged, but Kiralo was already thinking it through and he gave her a smile and considered what to say.
"You seem as if you are quite well learned," Kiralo said.
"My father was practicing. For someone who would be you, but not you," Yanmae said, quietly, her voice slightly hard. "I saw copies of the letters he'd written you, when you were younger. He kept the copies of the letters he wrote that were not confidential in a large set of files, in case he had to use them."
"I hope you did not learn your poetry form them," Kiralo said, then realized his mistake. "I do not mean to insult our father in this regard, but he is not a great poet."
"Perhaps not, but there are more things in life than that."
"Like these studies?" Kiralo asked. Already he was thinking about what Kuojah was looking for. No, not an order. Instead, it was propaganda. If he could prove that they were acting dishonorably before the war even began, he could isolate them. If any defended themselves by mentioning coming war, that would be a small disaster, since the fiction that war was not coming was part of the steps of a dance like this.
If people were preparing for war against the Imperial Seat, rather than being forced into it by the corruption of the Emperor's advisors, they were the guilty party. That made the most sense, and his father was not a fool. Neither was Yanmae, but it was clear that she had seen the first layer, the layer of law, and not known the truth.
The truth was, whatever philosophy was espoused, people were the ones that lived and laws were not. Not at a time like this, not at a place like this.
"Perhaps. I like such things. But I have proper household skills, and I am ready for whatever fate my father decides for me."
Kiralo frowned, "And if he does not decide a fate?"
"Then I suppose whoever shall be my guardian shall make that decision. It may well be you."
The head of the household, in theory at least, decided the life and death of all those under him. As a woman, if Kiralo had that position--and he suspected that some son-in-law might hold that instead, for why would Kuojah give him such power--Kiralo would have the power to decide her fate in any way he pleased, except in those ways that were disgusting to morality and the Gods. He could not turn her out, or make her prostitute herself, or kill her...without cause, or do anything to disgrace her status as the daughter of an important official, but her marriage, her housing, every detail of her life would then be in his hands.
And she knew it, and those eyes told him she knew it. He had power over her, and in a moment he saw that she feared this power.
In fact, she was afraid of him. It was in the way her lips were moving slightly, this way and that.
Kiralo had seen people afraid of him, of course, but this was still a new thing. She was afraid of the power he might have over her and...and this was a setup.
It hit him so hard and fast that he could barely keep his face proper for a courtier. The strict, maternal, but oddly gossipy woman? Why did he believe she was entirely real? Perhaps she was real to some extent, but to be so open and so willing to disagree with Kuojah and disregard her mistress?
Because Yanmae was a woman of importance. If Kuojah was asking her to run through old law books and volumes--and while he no doubt had large portions of it memorized he was also busy--then she mattered to him. Mattered enough that his neglect would have been a woman so strict and learned, or a male tutor who came in under guard and watch.
Not a woman who disdained education and insulted her own charge in her own quarters.
So, that woman had...ah. Had disparaged her learning. And then there was Yanmae to demonstrate that disparaged learning. To show off her talents to a man she feared would destroy her life carelessly. Or who feared that he was the furious rogue spirit that perhaps Kuojah had said he was.
And so she was providing a use, providing a scene...perhaps she even had plans for where to go from here, all designed to emphasize a worth that was enough to keep him from marrying her off to the first politically opportune man who crossed his path.
There was worse he could do, if he was the worst sort of man. He could keep her locked away in some distant part of an even more distant manorial home, locked away under guard for the rest of her life and just forget about her. There was no telling what he'd do...if he were her.
"It may well be," Kiralo said, and he watched her face and saw the moment. She was afraid of him.
That was...really unexpected. And now that he knew why, it made sense. At the very least, he could imagine feeling the same sort of dread if he were in her position, as strange as that thought was. She could not become an important official or scholar, though Kiralo thought women as capable of learning as men at least in the general sense, if not rulership. She could not get on a horse and ride off, she could not of course become a warrior or a general, either, and a female poet would have to be a married woman in order to properly fit the standards of the court. And being a woman of the court, she could not engage in trade even if she were allowed.[1]
It reminded him for a painful second of his mother, and how trapped she might have been, those pregnant months, and then…
Kiralo tore himself away from those thoughts and tried to gather what he'd say and what he'd ask.
What does he do/say? (Choose three, and then rank them in order that they will be done, that is to say 1, 2, 3)
[] Ask her about her hobbies and interests.
[] Talk to her about poetry and plays, see if she knows anything about such topics.
[] Ask about the library, and try to shift it to philosophy and learned discourse in general. It's certainly a topic she is aware of.
[] Ask her about the matter of the laws, perhaps spark her to show her true interests in this and other topics.
[] Quiz her on recent political events...try to see whether she has opinions and whether she's willing to express them.
[] Take tea with her, and perhaps ask her about her household situation, see just what she wants Kiralo to know.
[] Confront her with the knowledge that he knows that she is playing a game at the moment.
[] Discuss religion, the gods, and the new Emperor.
[] Write-in.
*****
A/N: And there we go! It's sometimes slightly uncomfortable to actually write out this kind of thing, but I do want to not soft-pedal a character too much. Obviously he can't be the most sexist person in his time period as a character or else he's unbearable, but if he's an egalitarian, he's unbelievable for the time and the specific portrayal I want to present of the society and culture.
The gift had been appreciated, in its own way. Arimi had a hand that could not help but cast out money to the rolling of the bone dice and the other forms of gambling. He bet on horses and men and gusts of wind. Anything that could be bet on, he was liable to give it a try. And that meant of course that he lost as much as he won, though if he merely bet on his own actions…
There was a reason, after all, that Kiralo had brought the man, and he was sure if it were down to betting on victory in this race or that, this contest of manliness, or, for that matter, seeing who could stand the longest while downing the most drinks, he'd be so rich that Kiralo himself would be begging him for spare change.
After all, Kiralo himself had none of his skill. If it was a skill. He drank a few drinks and then he was wobbling, while Arimi laughed at him and kept on going. And going. It probably wasn't healthy for the body, but it seemed healthy enough for the man's soul, and he was at least learning to fit in with people who no doubt might have hated him as a foreigner if it wasn't for the shelter of Kiralo's name.
And from what Arimi said, the name meant something. And not just for lineage Ainin, but because he was a man who had power and used power. If he had been in less of a hurry, or if he had sought it he might have even begun to gather a group of followers around him. He probably would have to eventually. He was but one man, and the way that men gained power was to gather offices to themselves...and their followers. Followers, contacts, and allies. At some point he was going to have to make the transition from power player to established authority.
It wasn't going to be today, slightly hung-over, walking through the halls looking for Yanmae's rooms. She was quite a way from everyone else, or so it seemed, in a location that was near the temples and yet set back a little, almost but not quite at the imperial quarters. Which of course made one wonder.
The spirits flowing through the air, filling it, certainly indicated the day and the location better than any map could. And a map was what he had, because it was madness to imagine that he would know the whole palace city even after six months. But this...this small door into this somewhat small building was it.
He glanced up at the windows, but he couldn't see anyone at them, and it was likely she was further in as he opened the door and walked through. He felt it even then, the spirits pressing in at all ends. Power rested here, if only the power of protection, and at the end of the hall was a single guard. A single guard and a single door.
And through the door was a house like anyone else's, but...different in a way. It was clearly not a house that saw company, for many of the vases and wall hangings were old, out of the modern fashion for them, and more than that, the furniture that there was looked as if it had been chosen carefully, but without the constant concern for the latest fashions.
More than that, the choices were...careful as well. Scenes of war were not common in any home, of course, certainly not on wall panels, like the ones set up near the set of sliding doors that probably led beyond the antechamber. But there wasn't a single scene of hunting either, and that combined with the fact that a harried looking older woman in a careful but slightly old fashioned dressing robe was the one moving to greet him told Kiralo all he needed to guess.
This was a household of women, and one ruled over by the woman in front of him. Her and Kuojah, that is.
"Yes, who is it?"
"I did in fact have an appointment with Cs-Yanmae," Kiralo said, quite carefully.
"Cs-Yanmae? Don't give her…" the woman shook her head, "I am Yin'la, her tutor in the arts she shall need in the coming years. This way, she's reading at the moment." She sounded vaguely disapproving, and Kiralo frowned as he followed the woman. She was remarkably tall for a woman, and impressive in her movements. Or rather, in the control they implied.
"You sound as if you disapprove," Kiralo said.
"Reading is a filthy habit for a young girl. Knowing how is important, and perhaps studying some of the teachings of the scholars might be proper, but she has taken it too far, and so has Cs-Kuojah, though bless his name and I'll deny it if you--"
Kiralo blinked, slowly. She was too used to the confines of this place, if she was willing to speak so frankly. He listened to her talk with a careful ear. She was self-assured in her power, and yet it was a fragile bubble indeed. Because as she said, as she implied in her own dismissal of Yanmae's learning, there was that implicit statement.
That it was not proper for a woman to do such as Yanmae had done. Which seemed to be...reading and scholarship?
Down the hall, and through a door brought him to a surprisingly large library. It had perhaps two or three hundred books in large shelves stretching to the ceiling, and in a corner, near a window that looked out into a small, barren courtyard, was Yanmae.
His mother had said that Kuojah had had beautiful hands, and that he'd been more handsome than he might look at first, and certainly Yanmae was a surprising sight. Short, but with delicate and finely wrought features, with skin that looked soft from even a distance, dressed perfectly in red and grey Hanfu, her hair done up in a complex and restrained hairstyle that drew just the appropriate attention away from herself.
And when she turned to look at him, her eyes were piercingly intelligent and yet polite enough that he began to see Kuojah's point. Or at least, his desire that she do more than merely marry a figure of moderate importance. If he was protecting her for some greater marriage, then it all made sense.
"Greetings, Cs-Kiralo. Brother-by-law," she said in a formal, careful voice, as she set aside the book she had been examining.
It was a book of law, in fact. He frowned, more startled than he thought he could be.
"Greetings Cs-Yanmae, it is a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Thank you. It has been some time since I have had a visitor."
He shook his head and asked, "May I ask which volume that is?"
"It is the volume on the historical laws of the grain harvests and distribution for northern Hirand. It is a topic far beyond the mind of a woman, or their interests, but father was looking into the matter, and so I offered to be of what meagre assistance I could provide."
Or perhaps Kuojah, Kiralo realized, was saving her for something beyond marriage. "And have you found anything?"
"I have found that the laws favor our father's plans to force the issue of southern Hirand."
The issue of southern Hirand...the issue of...ah. The south of Hirand was likely to give their troops to Basret and Jinhai, and thus also their grain and any resources they had. So, what? Did he want their grain stockpiles or their winter crops?
"But is that his plan?" Kiralo asked, carefully, "The laws might say one thing, but they have to deal with the reality on the ground. Prince Jinhai doesn't have time to take personal revenge on them, but he doesn't have to." Kiralo stepped forward. "I apologize if this is cutting too much to the chase, but are you sure that Cs-Kuojah is planning on using law to press the issue?"
Yanmae frowned and shook her head, "No, sorry. I am no doubt wrong." She sounded slightly discouraged, but Kiralo was already thinking it through and he gave her a smile and considered what to say.
"You seem as if you are quite well learned," Kiralo said.
"My father was practicing. For someone who would be you, but not you," Yanmae said, quietly, her voice slightly hard. "I saw copies of the letters he'd written you, when you were younger. He kept the copies of the letters he wrote that were not confidential in a large set of files, in case he had to use them."
"I hope you did not learn your poetry form them," Kiralo said, then realized his mistake. "I do not mean to insult our father in this regard, but he is not a great poet."
"Perhaps not, but there are more things in life than that."
"Like these studies?" Kiralo asked. Already he was thinking about what Kuojah was looking for. No, not an order. Instead, it was propaganda. If he could prove that they were acting dishonorably before the war even began, he could isolate them. If any defended themselves by mentioning coming war, that would be a small disaster, since the fiction that war was not coming was part of the steps of a dance like this.
If people were preparing for war against the Imperial Seat, rather than being forced into it by the corruption of the Emperor's advisors, they were the guilty party. That made the most sense, and his father was not a fool. Neither was Yanmae, but it was clear that she had seen the first layer, the layer of law, and not known the truth.
The truth was, whatever philosophy was espoused, people were the ones that lived and laws were not. Not at a time like this, not at a place like this.
"Perhaps. I like such things. But I have proper household skills, and I am ready for whatever fate my father decides for me."
Kiralo frowned, "And if he does not decide a fate?"
"Then I suppose whoever shall be my guardian shall make that decision. It may well be you."
The head of the household, in theory at least, decided the life and death of all those under him. As a woman, if Kiralo had that position--and he suspected that some son-in-law might hold that instead, for why would Kuojah give him such power--Kiralo would have the power to decide her fate in any way he pleased, except in those ways that were disgusting to morality and the Gods. He could not turn her out, or make her prostitute herself, or kill her...without cause, or do anything to disgrace her status as the daughter of an important official, but her marriage, her housing, every detail of her life would then be in his hands.
And she knew it, and those eyes told him she knew it. He had power over her, and in a moment he saw that she feared this power.
In fact, she was afraid of him. It was in the way her lips were moving slightly, this way and that.
Kiralo had seen people afraid of him, of course, but this was still a new thing. She was afraid of the power he might have over her and...and this was a setup.
It hit him so hard and fast that he could barely keep his face proper for a courtier. The strict, maternal, but oddly gossipy woman? Why did he believe she was entirely real? Perhaps she was real to some extent, but to be so open and so willing to disagree with Kuojah and disregard her mistress?
Because Yanmae was a woman of importance. If Kuojah was asking her to run through old law books and volumes--and while he no doubt had large portions of it memorized he was also busy--then she mattered to him. Mattered enough that his neglect would have been a woman so strict and learned, or a male tutor who came in under guard and watch.
Not a woman who disdained education and insulted her own charge in her own quarters.
So, that woman had...ah. Had disparaged her learning. And then there was Yanmae to demonstrate that disparaged learning. To show off her talents to a man she feared would destroy her life carelessly. Or who feared that he was the furious rogue spirit that perhaps Kuojah had said he was.
And so she was providing a use, providing a scene...perhaps she even had plans for where to go from here, all designed to emphasize a worth that was enough to keep him from marrying her off to the first politically opportune man who crossed his path.
There was worse he could do, if he was the worst sort of man. He could keep her locked away in some distant part of an even more distant manorial home, locked away under guard for the rest of her life and just forget about her. There was no telling what he'd do...if he were her.
"It may well be," Kiralo said, and he watched her face and saw the moment. She was afraid of him.
That was...really unexpected. And now that he knew why, it made sense. At the very least, he could imagine feeling the same sort of dread if he were in her position, as strange as that thought was. She could not become an important official or scholar, though Kiralo thought women as capable of learning as men at least in the general sense, if not rulership. She could not get on a horse and ride off, she could not of course become a warrior or a general, either, and a female poet would have to be a married woman in order to properly fit the standards of the court. And being a woman of the court, she could not engage in trade even if she were allowed.[1]
It reminded him for a painful second of his mother, and how trapped she might have been, those pregnant months, and then…
Kiralo tore himself away from those thoughts and tried to gather what he'd say and what he'd ask.
[1] Kiralo is only comparatively forward thinking compared to some people in his time. He's still, you know, sexist. Also he doesn't even know what democracy is, but he'd probably be against it. Also, he's not in favor of space exploration, and I can feel SV opinion of him slipping as we speak! This and other relevant facts, brought to you by: values dissonance.
What does he do/say? (Choose three, and then rank them in order that they will be done, that is to say 1, 2, 3)
[] Ask her about her hobbies and interests.
[] Talk to her about poetry and plays, see if she knows anything about such topics.
[] Ask about the library, and try to shift it to philosophy and learned discourse in general. It's certainly a topic she is aware of.
[] Ask her about the matter of the laws, perhaps spark her to show her true interests in this and other topics.
[] Quiz her on recent political events...try to see whether she has opinions and whether she's willing to express them.
[] Take tea with her, and perhaps ask her about her household situation, see just what she wants Kiralo to know.
[] Confront her with the knowledge that he knows that she is playing a game at the moment.
[] Discuss religion, the gods, and the new Emperor.
[] Write-in.
*****
A/N: And there we go! It's sometimes slightly uncomfortable to actually write out this kind of thing, but I do want to not soft-pedal a character too much. Obviously he can't be the most sexist person in his time period as a character or else he's unbearable, but if he's an egalitarian, he's unbelievable for the time and the specific portrayal I want to present of the society and culture.
