Ridahne watched her go with a small pang of worry. It wasn't that she felt there was any particular threat here in the palace, it was more that she'd spent so long stressing and worrying over Darin's safety. And each time they brushed with the Red Hand, the more that feeling intensified. Ajoran did not need to see the details of her face to read this in her pensive silence.
"She'll be just fine."
"I know." [I]But...[/I]
"You're a good guardian, Ridahne Torzinei. Astra is lucky to have you. And so is she." Ridahne's throat closed and she could hardly breathe, much less speak. But once again, Ajoran could read her like footprints in wet sand. "Don't be so modest about it, I mean it. I know your da would be proud of you, and I don't think I ever met your mother, but she would be too, I'll bet."
Ridahne burst suddenly into tears, which she tried desperately to contain. She was still in public after all. "Oh Ajoran, don't start on that, I'm in public...you'll ruin my reputation." Both of them laughed at that. 
"You know, I never told you this. But that day you came to my da's smithy to choose the weapon you wanted to train with when you became an apprentice, Jaisih pulled me aside when you were out watering your horse before you left. He pulled me aside and asked me, "Boy, answer me honest, now. You've been staring at my daughter this whole time, haven't you?" and your da, he was such an intimating man so I told him yes and I've never been more embarrassed in my life. But then you know what he said? He winked at me and said, "She's a lot to handle. I don't know if you can keep up with her, lad. But I hope you do.""

Ridahne barked a laugh. "He did not!"
"Oh, but he did...and my da laughed and laughed and laughed and teased me about it relentlessly for a long time. Still does, sometimes." Ridahne didn't need to see him to know he was smiling. 
"You had eyes for me even then?" Ridahne asked softly.
"Oh, and you didn't?"
"I thought you were handsome, but I didn't know you. I'm not so easily won." 
Ajoran chuckled. "Ouch, I'm hurt! When, then? I bet I could guess..."
"You'd probably be right. It was that night under the full moon, right after you showed up at the palace. It was so different there than home, and I was so different than everyone else. I felt so alone. And I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk on the outskirts of town. I think I missed the openness of the Dust Sea, in a way. And you saw me go and followed me, and offered to teach me a few things about bladed combat. That was the first time we sparred. You had me then, Teleisun. Snared like a rabbit in a trap." 
"Except you aren't much of a rabbit. You're an urala cat. A deadly huntress..." 

Ridahne giggled, but the moment was quickly ruined by an approaching figure standing over her. As the shadow of the person fell over her, she sighed, expecting some angry former colleague of hers come to stir up trouble. But as she turned and looked up, her expression turned to outright surprise. "Sota-Sol?"
Amaiera-Sol was standing above her, toting one taja who was dutifully looking at the back of his Sol's head instead of the nude women in the room. No one seemed to find his presence on this half of the baths bothersome, though. "A word, Torzinei." 
An unexpected anger flared up in Ridahne. "I am no longer yours to beckon and call like a dog to heel." On the other side of the barrier, Ajoran sucked in a tense breath. 
Amaiera-Sol sighed slowly. "No. I suppose you are not. Astra-Sol is your keeper, now. Then I beseech you to come and speak with me. Privately. There is much I wish to say to you that cannot be said among so many ears."
Ridahne softened a little too, as Amaiera-Sol did. "Ajoran, I'll find you later. Sota-Sol, I will speak with you."
The elderly elf nodded once, slowly. "I will await you in the gardens."
Ridahne clenched a little. She hadn't seen the gardens since she'd lured Takhun out there that fateful night, and watered the plants with his blood. She had no guilt about killing Khaltira, but Takhun was her friend. Her partner. And for killing him, she did feel like a traitor, if only to their friendship. "Aye, Sol." 
Amaiera-Sol glanced around. "Darin is not here? Did she not find my baths to her liking?"
"It is not the human custom to bathe communally," Ridahne explained. "But your staff has seen to her needs. They have been most hospitable." Ridahne knew that praise of her household servants would lead to rewards for the staff in the long run for their excellent work, so she was free with her praise. 
The Sota-Sol nodded once. "I will await you outside, then." She departed. 

Ridahne said goodbye to Ajoran and went to get dried off and dressed, though not without using some of the perfumed oils in her hair and on her skin. She would not be cheated of the full experience of the baths just to speak with the Sota-Sol. When she met Amaiera-Sol in the gardens, Ridahne was dressed richly in a charcoal gray uri trimmed with silver and bone beads on the fringes, and a deep, blood red half shirt that draped over one shoulder and flowed down her back to her waist like a slim, one sided cloak. Fastening the silk fabric at the shoulder was a simple silver pin set with a sparkling garnet. A silk, steely-gray sash fastened the uri in place and was pinned with her old sigil pin. Her hair, still damp, was in a half bun fastened with a polished silver band. They had given her very fine clothes indeed, and Ridahne looked very fine in them. Stately, and yet dangerously polished like a honed blade edge. She smelled faintly of juniper. 

To Ridahne's surprise, Amaiera-Sol was alone in the central courtyard, with not even a single taja stationed beside her. Ridahne knew they were lurking nearby, but had been ordered to give her some space. The elderly elf beckoned for Ridahne to sit on the stone bench beside her, which was still warm from the heat of the day, though the ambient air had cooled with the sunset. For a few hours before deep night fell, and it actually got a little chilly (by Azurei standards), there was a space of time where it was neither hot nor cold, but some pleasant halfway point where the stones offered residual warmth, but the sun did not beat down on the inhabitants of the desert. They called it [I]Tsaedin'ja[/I], which might loosely and colloquially be translated as 'golden hour', and during that time, Azurei was alive.

"You are angry with me." It was not a question. The Sota Sol often spoke this way, stating things instead of asking them. 
Ridahne sighed. "Yes and no. No, because I know why you did what you did, and you had to. I would have, too. You do not need to explain yourself to me, Sol. And it brought me to Darin..." If she was quiet, she could hear the faint and lofty sounds of a fiddle from somewhere on high--probably the roof. Ridahne smiled to herself. "Yes because...because it was the demand of authority for unquestioning obedience from her subjects that got me here in the first place." 
"You resent the hierarchy of Court."
"No, Sol. Every last member of this court is necessary for the health and well being of Azurei. I resent being owned." The specific Azurei word she used for 'owned' was not the same one generally used when talking about 'belonging to' a Sol, which spoke more of loyalty and responsibility and fealty in both directions than any real ownership. The word she used was instead one of possession, of owning ships or tools or weapons. Objects. 
Amaiera-Sol tilted her head and studied the younger elf, visibly surprised. "How long have you felt this way?"
Ridahne involuntarily became defensive and guarded. Except for with a few people like Darin or Ajoran or Hadian, it was her default. "I don't know." Her tone was clipped. "Sol, why did you bring me here?"
"No more than this. I wanted to speak with you openly and candidly about what happened."
"Why?" Ridahne found herself snapping. She never meant to, and actually covered her mouth with her slim fingers as her eyes widened in horror at her own behavior. 
Amaiera-Sol sighed softly, and reached one slightly wrinkled hand to wrap around Ridahne's free one. "Because never in the history of my rule have I ever wronged one of my own so deeply and profoundly. And I owe you my honesty and vulnerability, which I cannot give to everyone. And my sincere apology. I am sorry, Ridahne. For Khaltira," she notably did not add the 'sol' suffix, "for what she made you do, and for not understanding all of this sooner. I do blame myself for her." 

Ridahne's hand never left her mouth, and she was absolutely rigid. She couldn't breathe. If she took in even one breath, or let any of what she already had out, she would explode into sobs. And it did not matter how long she'd been away, or how far removed she now was from her former status and position in the court, Ridahne could not, COULD NOT cry in front of Azurei's Sota-Sol.

"I cannot help but think..." Amaiera-Sol continued, sounding for once more grandmotherly than the supreme ruler of a nation. "If you had felt less owned, as you say, would you have come to me with your concerns? Would you have challenged her openly? I have spent many nights grieving over the fact that you felt you had no other course of action than to kill her and destroy your own life." 
Ridahne did find her voice, then, though it was soft and still a little breathless. "I was taught to speak the language of blood and of death. Khaltira presented a question, and I answered in the only way I knew how." A pause, and then with a rising sharpness Ridahne added, "And I was punished for speaking the language I was taught to speak. For doing what I'd been trained to do. [I]Extensively trained.[/I]" She grit her teeth. "Alright, yes, so maybe I am angry. Part of me knows I shouldn't be, not wholly, but I am. And it means a great deal to hear your candid apology, Sol, it really does. But when a dog is both kicked and praised, she will have complicated feelings towards her master. As do I." 
Amaiera-Sol nodded slowly. "I understand. I take my leave, then, and leave you to retire at last. I have yet to speak to your Astra-Sol and give [I]her[/I] the kind of candid answers she deserves. But I thought it best to speak to you, first. If there's ought you would ask of me, speak. It will be yours. Peace, Guardian." She departed, leaving Ridahe alone in the now dark gardens.

The young elf sat still for a while, until she was very certain no one was nearby. And then she put her head in her hands and cried. Cried for the simple release of a pent-up tension. Cried for the weight of the apology she'd been given and for how much it meant to her. Cried for her still simmering anger she wasn't sure what to do with anymore. And she cried because she was not far from the very spot she killed Takhun. When she had no more tears to give, she went back inside the palace to find Ajoran, though instead of heading off to the barracks with him, she took his hand and led him up to the roof of the palace where Darin played her fiddle. Ridahne, still holding Ajoran's hand, silently came to sit beside her sister. She said nothing to either of them, but instead gazed out over the flickering lights of Tasen, content merely to listen to the sound of Darin's fiddle. She just needed her family with her at the moment.