POV: siri
Summary
Siri wakes at dawn on the stone floor of the God King's bedchamber, sore in the back and arms and head, the wadded blue gown her blanket and pillow. The chair beside the bed is empty; Susebron left in the night without her noticing. She has somehow survived untouched. She had dozed off, curled up, even glanced over at the chair once or twice without remembering she was forbidden — and he had not had her killed. She walks the chair's circuit, runs a finger along its leather, and realises she has, however slightly, a card to play: the Hallandren need an heir out of her, and a corpse cannot deliver one. He cannot afford impatience. She climbs into the unused bed and falls back asleep under the covers.
She wakes the second time better rested and to a quietly altered room. Her dress is gone from the floor. The hearth has been rebuilt — for the linens, she remembers, the linens she is meant to burn. She drags the unused sheets off the bed and throws them into the fire. As long as no one knows nothing happened on the wedding night, it is better, she decides, that no one is told.
Without anything to wear, she pads to the door in her shift and pulls it open. Two dozen serving women in yellow and copper are kneeling outside the door — different colours from yesterday's crew, on different shifts. They flow into the room, open chests, and spread an array of bright-coloured dresses across the floor for her to choose between. She picks a midriff-baring two-piece red, the most modest available, and the women dress her, redo her makeup, perfume her hair. Bluefingers walks in mid-spritz, glances at the bed to confirm the linens are burned, nods approval, and starts to leave.
She catches him before he can. What is she supposed to *do*, she asks; what are her duties? To provide an heir, he says, and is not sure beyond that. Riding? He could perhaps have horses brought into the court — after the Wedding Jubilation is over. The Jubilation, he then explains, is a weeklong period during which she may not leave the palace, at the end of which she will be formally presented to the Court of Gods. After that may she leave the city? Not the city — not even the court. She is the wife of the God King; it would be far too dangerous to let her out. She may, however, have any of the court's performers in for a private show, attend (not sit on) the Court Assembly's judgments, or call on a priest-artist from any genre she likes. There is nothing she is required to attend.
She asks where her rooms are. He chuckles: the entire palace is, in a sense, hers; he sees no reason for specific rooms. Ask to eat and the servants will set up a table; ask to rest and they will bring a couch. He confirms that her Idrian soldiers left for home that morning, a wise choice since they were not dedicated to the Tones and would not have been permitted to stay in the court in any case. He excuses himself and bustles out, leaving her to think about how completely alone she has become.
She tries to extract a conversation from a younger serving woman and gets nothing back but bows. To keep herself from saying something foolish purely to provoke a reaction, she pushes out into the corridor and starts exploring. Across the hall is yesterday's yellow room, now full of yellow couches instead of her stool and chair. Past it is the bath chamber from the day before, identical except that the tile platforms and tubs have vanished entirely — portable, evidently, brought in for the bath and removed when finished. She wanders deeper. Each room has four doors; each is a different colour; soon she is hopelessly lost again, and it does not seem to matter, because every room is, in a way, the same as every other. She asks for breakfast. A green stuffed chair appears, then a table, then a full hot meal — within fifteen minutes. The food is heavily spiced and surprisingly good. She is, despite the silent watching staff and the silence in which she eats, alone at the table; she lets the spice and the silence wear her appetite away and pushes the plate aside, wishing she were back in the oversized black bed.