[b]Giriel and Kalaya![/b] As signs go, it’s rather vivid— the culmination of smaller ones, such as flowers that symbolize marriage crowding on one bank, two crows raucously cawing as they chase each other (with a songbird caught between them), and a fox trotting along with the tail of a snake poking jauntily out of its mouth and roses draped around its shoulders. They come into view suddenly, as the current moves the vast barge along: a stag and a monitor lizard, both unusually large for their species, chewing on the leaves of a Bride’s Lily. A brightly-banded venomous snake coils around the roots of the flower, hissing angrily at each in turn. The stag suddenly startles. It drives its hooves down on the earth with terrible force, trying to crush the snake with a panicked fury that could shatter bones. The poor plant sees the worst of it, and in between stamps, the monitor lizard grabs at the flowering lilies and yanks the tiger’s share of it out of the earth, slithering off with its prize as the stag finally brings one hoof down on the snake’s head, then charges blindly into the forest after the lizard. Giriel, the meaning is fairly clear (aided by the expansive gestures of the minor functionary spirits who have been arranging these signs for Kalaya). It is an excellent lens through which to view the other omens: the conflict between Uusha and Cathak Agata will eventually lead to the marriage of Agata and Kalaya, likely to gather Kingdom support, whether Kalaya likes it or not. It will also lead to the death of the warlock at Uusha’s hands. Then, before you can explain all this to Kalaya, something almost as shocking happens: the clouds part. Just for a moment, the rain relents, and your keen eyes can catch sight of a bright star on the horizon. The flickering red light of Mars suggests that this is a war-fate, decreed by the General of Heaven, favored star of the Dominion. Venus’s opinion on all you have divined is a question for further study. Bluntly: the Rakshasa’s power to twist and change fate might be the only protection that Kalaya has from Mars’ declaration, unless she was willing to run away and join Ven in the demon city, which is extremely unlikely. Right? And the roses on the fox! Kalaya might have an ally here— Venus [i]might[/i] be satisfied with a tragic ending to their story, but Bright Rose Aching (as a more local god, and Kalaya’s patroness) might [i]not[/i] be. Oh, and Giriel? Agata doesn’t know this. While you’re naturally going to blurt all this out to Kalaya, you’re going to have to decide how much from what you’ve just seen you’re going to tell [i]her.[/i] And you don’t have much time, either— you’re arriving at Tuberhybrida tomorrow, on the hinterlands of Chrysanth, where Kalaya, Han and Lotus will all be leaving. *** [b]Piripiri![/b] Uusha’s listening, yes. But you’re running a risk here. Not a physical risk, but one of the heart: if Uusha feels that you are making excuses for your service, you will be [i]judged.[/i] For not being her, for not fighting back, for accepting the Dominion yoke meekly. Bringing up your family’s a good way to not be hated, incidentally. *** [b]Emli![/b] This is incredibly awkward. You are vaguely aware that your mistress has a very messy love life, but you are neither judgmental or assertive enough to have opinions on [i]that.[/i] No, mostly you’re just flustered that guests are upset and that Han is blowing it, and more pressingly, that you might end up in trouble if you don’t say [i]something.[/i] After all, anybody could come in and find you not defending the lady’s honor! “There must have been a misunderstanding,” you say, smoothly, trying to slip it in while navigating the dire straits of being a good girl. There we go! You didn’t interrupt them, you defended the honor of your owner, and most importantly, you offered the priestess something she can cling to that doesn’t make it anybody’s fault. Because everything is much more pleasant when nobody’s getting blamed for mutual misunderstandings! Your eyes flicker over to Han. You really wouldn’t want to be the person who made the priestess upset. Han looks like she’d declare war on the entire Dominion if she thought the Empress was responsible for breaking her heart. It’s really cute! It’d be nice to have someone look at you like that, you know? To think you were that important. But it’d be flustering and confusing, too, so it’s more comfortable to keep that as an idle fancy. “Yes,” Lotus says, catching the line you threw out into the water for her. “Maybe it was just a misunderstanding?” She nervously wrings her fingers as she looks to Han. Come on, Han! She needs to hear it! You can defuse this entire uncomfortable situation by letting her think it was nobody’s fault, because it’s so much easier when it’s nobody’s fault and nobody has to be blamed, and also you won’t get disciplined for fomenting insubordination, so take it, Han! Nobody will end up getting spankies if you just let it go! But she’s not going to, is she? She’s stubborn. And despite the risk of being punished, part of you can’t help but admire it. You always fall in love a little bit with your guests, and this scrappy, passionate Flower is no exception. She’d be less herself if she did. So even while most of your thoughts are clogged up with figuring out where to divert them— baths again? The gardens? Maybe tactfully suggest that Han could escort her, no, if the mistress is aiming for Lotus then that would get you in [i]so[/i] much trouble— your heart flutters like a bird that knows Han’s just going to keep making things messy.