She nods curtly in acknowledgement. The ghost of a smile creases the corners of her eyes.
LOGRIS: "We will speak later, Vesper."
You see yourself out. This part of the camp is quiet, almost deserted. Maybe it's lunchtime.
PRESENCE: What the hell was that?
What, this again?
PRESENCE: Yeah, this again. You've been fraternizing with the enemy!
EMBASSY: Is Logris the enemy, though?
PRESENCE: She's a Dynast, so yes. This isn't complicated.
EMBASSY: It is a bit complicated.
I really don't think this is a big deal.
PRESENCE: Not a big deal? Do you even listen to yourself?
EMBASSY: Obviously not, because there are parts of herself that need to be ignored.
PRESENCE: You shut up. Listen, don't you remember what they did to us?
No.
PRESENCE: Okay, but you remember some of it. You remember enough. You said you were would never let go of the hate. How does this square with you making a date with a Dynast?
Well, we didn't make a date, exactly...
PRESENCE: You know what I mean! Explain yourself!
[ ] I was lying, I'm not going back there.
[ ] I'm just getting what I want out of her.
[ ] Logris gets a pass. She's one of the good ones.
[ ] I don't want to feel this way any more. (Unequip Unbroken Rushes)
PRESENCE: Your inability to hate people who hate you makes it very difficult to have principles.
Logris hates me?
EMBASSY: That doesn't sound right.
PRESENCE: Did you hear what she said about Cinnamon? She said that's how she introduces herself to the lower classes. She sees you as a pawn to be used and discarded, like everyone else beneath her station. If she doesn't hate you it's only because she doesn't think about you.
INTEGRITY: She holds her feelings close. It's hard to say what she feels. But she does feel something.
The wind shifts abruptly, undergoing one of the island's periodic unnatural changes. The imperial pennants flying from the tentpoles twist to point southwards.
NAVIGATE: Time to move on.
It must be about noon. You still have some time before Mei wants to see you.
[ ] Go to the mess area for lunch.
[ ] Catch up to Rooster.
[ ] Go to the wreck of Sulco's Spite.
[ ] See what Fincher's talon is up to.
PHYSIQUE: You should start taking nutrition more seriously.
What do you mean?
PHYSIQUE: You need to fight, right?
Yeah, looks that way.
PHYSIQUE: Well, you need to eat more to fight better.
Is that how it works?
PHYSIQUE: You're not eating enough, that's why you keep fainting and falling over and getting your bones broken by trees.
SAGACITY: Those things probably aren't related.
PHYSIQUE: I'm just saying that it's not helping. Fighting on an empty stomach is making your performance worse than it could be.
SAGACITY: Well, I guess that's not wrong. Poor nutrition is probably affecting your mental acuity as well. Along with intoxicants and their withdrawal symptoms.
Well, let's go have lunch then.
NAVIGATE: EASY CHECK PASSED
The shift in wind has obscured the scent of baking bread, but nonetheless you manage to retrace your steps from yesterday through the maze of tents and make your way to the mess area in the shadow of the eastern cliff.
When you ate here yesterday only a couple of dozen people were present. Now there are almost two hundred, loosely grouped into different units and designations. On a raised platform directly under the cliff you see an officer's table. Mei, Usamir, Mercer, and several other officers are present. You don't see Rooster or Fincher there. Mei glances at you, expression unreadable.
WAR: Meals are probably organized in staggered shifts to make sure the barricades are always held properly.
Elsewhere, you see some of Colter's unit eating a meal together at a long table made of upended cargo boxes. Several of them raise cups to you in a toast. You spot Lily among them. Nearer the south entrance, you see a few of Fincher's people around their own table, including Orison, Toothsome and Brindle.
At the other end of the area you spot an odd figure sitting alone. They are spindly and thin, wearing a scarlet officer's half-cloak over pale robes. The figure's face is hidden by a featureless white mask, marked only by shadowed eyeholes.
[ ] Join the officer's table.
[ ] Join Lily and Colter's unit.
[ ] Join Orison and Fincher's unit.
[ ] Join the robed person.
[ ] Sit alone.
SAGACITY: Well, I guess that's not wrong. Poor nutrition is probably affecting your mental acuity as well. Along with intoxicants and their withdrawal symptoms.
Damn shame our cocaine is all mixed up with firedust, which Sagacity helpfully notes is not a medically advisable additive. Cocaine, cocaine everywhere, and not a gram to snort.
Without thinking it through, you walk through the middle of the mess area and step right up onto the raised platform. Various officers turn to look at you in surprise. The smell of rich food that pervades the whole area is especially intense here.
Mei's expression continues to be unreadable, but she is definitely looking right at you.
USAMIR: "Magistrate! How good of you to join us. You've missed a few meals since coming to camp, I dare say."
He gestures to the platters of food on the table. Bowls of soup and stews, plates of chopped vegetables, rice, flatbreads, skewers of meat, dozens of small dishes of dipping sauces. You haven't had anything like this since waking, it makes you feel a little lightheaded.
"Why do you dare say that?"
USAMIR: "Well, it's best for the officer corps to dine together, I feel. At least, that's how it is in the navy."
"Is it because you're all on a boat together?"
MERCER: "She's not an officer, lord."
The older woman gives you a sour look.
USAMIR: "Semantics, I say! What table would not welcome an imperial magistrate?"
He looks to Mei, who has been silent during this. It's not a rhetorical question. This is her table.
MEI: "What table indeed. Coppersmith, set her a place."
Coppersmith, a stocky young woman who you recognize as one of Mei's runners from earlier, hurries to set a plate for you and draw you up a seat at the far end of the table. She sets a tin goblet next to your bowl and unstoppers a small earthenware bottle. You catch a whiff of rice wine. You realize that everyone else at the table has an opened bottle and a full goblet.
You feel your blood pressure increase, needles prickling against the backs of your hands and throat. There's a whine inside your head as your sinuses press down. Sweat pools at the base of your neck. Your eyelids twitch uncontrolably.
Coppersmith shrugs and restoppers the bottle. She fills your goblet from the pitcher of water in the middle of the table.
You think you got away with it. Nobody thinks you are weird.
Mei glances at you and then goes back to sawing at a slab of meat with a dress knife. You sip the water. It tastes of nothing. You are not refreshed.
USAMIR: "Wine is healthy for a midday meal, magistrate. You should drink! It might put a little more color-"
Mei forcefully stabs her knife into the meat on her plate. Everyone at the table jumps. She bites the carved slice of meat off the tip of the knife. You can hear it sizzle as she chews it. Usamir clears his throat.
Coppersmith takes your plate.
COPPERSMITH: "Anything you'd like, lady?"
You have no idea what any of this stuff is.
"Whatever's fresh."
As Coppersmith begins loading your plate with various morsels from the spread on display, you look around the table. Aside from Mei, Usamir and Mercer, there are four officers you don't recognize, three legion and one navy.
Coppersmith and two other aides stand nearby. One of them is a nervous looking young woman in a navy issue uniform that bears a passing resemblance to Cinnamon. You surmise that this is one of the older cousins Logris mentioned.
MEI: "Well? Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself to my officers?"
[ ] Introduce yourself as a magistrate.
[ ] Introduce yourself as Tenebrous Silken Vesper.
[ ] Introduce yourself as Second Rain.
[ ] Introduce yourself as the Wolf of Sibun.
[ ] Ask Mei to introduce you.