If any time is right for it, it's this. The season that favors my legs and my hands. The thaw is well past; 'twill be moons yet before the snows come to bother me again.
Summer is upon us. Dance with me while it is warm, won't you?
What aren't you to do? I daresay there is little you would be denied by anyone who might recognize you.
But as for what I might suggest...
There is a show playing in my favorite theater. Its run will last another fortnight at least. I have seen it before and quite enjoyed it. Comedy isn't easy, or mayhap it is too easy and thus does suffer for it, but this one made me laugh. I think it would make you laugh, too. You might funnel your fame into snagging the best seat in the house, and spend the evening in laughter.
You've also the remainder of the botanical gardens to see. The physic gardens provided you with many resources through which to perform your vaunted heroics, but I should like for you to see the hortus and viridarium. You'll not have seen its like before, I promise you. You would surely be awarded a private tour, or permission to roam freely if you wished.
I wouldn't want you to think of me as an immodest man, a conceited man, believing himself entitled to aught and all that should cross his path. I wouldn't want you to think of me as being anything but satisfied with my current lot, given how often you indulge me...
That said, I find myself wishing for all of the above and then some. And I'm going to have to wish for Your Radiance to be my personal chaperone throughout these excursions, your busy schedule permitting. I'm also curious for the patisserie you made mention of before I left for the Valendian coast. You promised me my choice of gateau if only I would return safely to you, if I happen to recall correctly.
My dear Master Hitlein, by my very throne, I would not renege on such an oath as your choice of gateau. What I promise to you, I promise in utmost fidelity.
And I am not offended if you desire what my fair Garlemald has on offer. Indeed, it pleases me if she brings you pleasure. I did pluck you up out of your travels. If my company in the Capital might tempt you away from another onset of wanderlust, I can surely make the time.
'Twas a treat for my boys to take their lessons in those gardens now and again. The novelty of peering past the leaves at their tutors, everything all humid and green... They could scarce pay heed to the history or poetry that begged for their attentions. How they would envy you, for I shall not scold you if you can't sit still.
[This warm, amiable, eager-to-please leader of his people--gods, Cain can scarcely believe it. When he first met with the Emperor, he might as well have been making an acquaintance with a blizzard. It was bleak. Bleak, brusque, and endlessly cutting. It's different nowadays. He supposes that is what happens when you go out of your way to save a man's progeny from a long and painful death by disease.]
Sounds like we're going to make a field day of it. A picnic, if you will. I should enjoy the heat and humidity very much. You're not the only one who fares better when it's warm out, Your Radiance.
There's just one other thing.
From even beyond your borders, I have heard tale of a vast repository of knowledge hidden away within the heart of Garlemald. Within the walls of the imperial palace itself, or so the rumor goes. A library of ancient works to put to shame all other libraries, save for those kept under lock and key in Sharlayan. Now, this is all quite hypothetical, but let's say for the moment that I've earned even a fraction of a bell's worth of time to have a look-see around this library. Would you grant me the honor? I consider myself something of a student of history, you see.
[If heat and humidity are what Cain desires... Yes, the Emperor was, at first, the thick of bitter winter. The harshness of it. Famine. Oncoming starvation. But Cain saw him through the storm, and when the rosiness returned to the Crown Prince's cheeks, so too did spring plus the promise of harvest. If heat and humidity are what Cain desires, let him learn why the Emperor is called Radiant.]
Save for those in Sharlayan! I shan't abide this slander.
[Imagine him: the ringing of a bell, a sweet one. A gold spoon against the edge of a gilded teacup.]
I'll not have you spend another moment misconceiving that our Bibliotheca Astrum does anything less than compete with valor against Sharlayan's enshrouded libraries--at the very least! Perhaps you shall even give them a little more credit than that, once you peruse them for yourself. You would need a bell to begin to understand just how much the Bibliotheca does boast. And a bell you shall have.
Though, if I am not mistaken, you hail from Sharlayan yourself, Master Hitlein. I cannot help but wonder if a bell is all it would take for you to glean the choicest secrets hidden away within my heart, ripe for the buying by those who would pierce it. As Emperor, and thus Garlemald's most fervent guardian, I cannot help but wonder--yet I also cannot help but wish to indulge you with the honors you ask of me.
How is it you've had no other sovereign plying you with treats and titles?
[There it is. The rush. There's no greater feeling, no better a feeling, than knowing the somethings that so many other people couldn't possibly know. The sparks sliding down Cain's spine are going to be short-lived, at best, he knows, but he will not take for granted the gift Solus is giving him. Access to the Bibliotheca Astrum is more of a myth among the erudite circles. It's whispered about in awe and in no small measure of reverence. Here, and now, he has earned the permission to see it and to take it all in. As an outsider, at that. As a guest. It's the shamefully sweet stuff of his daydreams.
Sharlayan, though. His mother nation. Proud, but distant from him now. As ever, reality has a way of intruding on his successes...]
You are not mistaken, Your Radiance.
[That's where he wants to leave it. He'd prefer not to think about it.
His thumbs advance and retreat several times before he decides on what to write next.]
Believe it or not, you yourself are the first leader among many to give to me more than a twinkling of time for my efforts. It may sound like a bushel of sour grapes, I'll grant you that, but I consider myself fortunate that no other has seen me for what I truly am. To them I was little more than a passing eccentric with his bottles and burners, with promises no doubt impossible to keep. If not for their refusals, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to bring succor and hope to the Garlean Empire. I wouldn't have been there to save your son, or your people.
It's in my nature to wander about and all over, and yet I can't help but wonder, also, if my good works are yet to be exhausted in the here and now. The bells you're promising me within the Bibliotheca Astrum seem like bells I shouldn't rush out to share with those who thought of me as a clown or a crook.
Mayhap I'm being terribly selfish. I said before that I'm not a better man.
[So Cain, too, has nerves that are not to be touched. Then again, Solus is an imperialist. A patient one, but unyielding.
Now, if he can write a thing gently, it's in going from Master Hitlein to this:]
My dear boy. I must have seemed to you as all the rest of them. Stoic toward your burners and harsh toward your person. Condemnatory in my demands of you.
I should not have burdened you with a first impression such as that.
[He is a deliberate speaker, the Emperor--ever a thoughtful speaker, each word chosen with utmost care--]
I should not have set upon you in the same way as other men.
You offered to me a chance to prove myself when you would have been justified in doing naught. It pains me to imagine the number of skulkers, charlatans, rotten bastards, and shameless opportunists who must have darkened your halls in advance of my arrival. That you still had a sliver of trust for an untried remedy speaks to the vast generosity of your spirit. You had no reason to believe me, much less to believe in me, Your Radiance. Yet you bade me to go forth and make good on my word.
[Of course, if Cain had failed, he would not have known ignominy in defeat. He would have been killed. Emperor Solus couldn't have made that more clear to him from where he was set miserably on his throne, in the deepest throes of despair. If you mean what you said and you said what you mean, then you know what it is you must do for me now. I shall entertain no more from you.]
Regardless, you are not and you will never be the same as other men. Not to me. Not at all.
Whatever your powers, you did wield them with a deftness long forgotten to me. Prised the faith out of me as if I were a godly man. You, too, are unlike others.
We have made many plans together, this evening. Too much for us to do in just one day. Tonight ilms closer to completion; thus does your time in solitude. Of all we have discussed, what will you want to do first?
A battle? No, Master Hitlein, let us have nothing so fraught. Pray call upon them to parley. Offer them my olive branch. We shall not run out of things to do, you and I.
Let me take you to my library, first of all. You'll want to go back once you have had your look-see, so we will slip other excursions in between.
[How weak I am, he realizes. It doesn't stop him from saying the things he has said, or from saying what he'll say next.]
We shall dance. I will not strain your heart; you'll not need to hold out much longer. I only need your latest measurements, once you are cleared to be descended upon by the nimblest tailor in Garlemald.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[...]
If any time is right for it, it's this. The season that favors my legs and my hands. The thaw is well past; 'twill be moons yet before the snows come to bother me again.
Summer is upon us. Dance with me while it is warm, won't you?
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Thus:]
Of course I'll go dancing with you. Ere long I shall be the envy of every son and daughter of Garlemald in so doing.
What am I to do with my newfound fame and fortune, I wonder?
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But as for what I might suggest...
There is a show playing in my favorite theater. Its run will last another fortnight at least. I have seen it before and quite enjoyed it. Comedy isn't easy, or mayhap it is too easy and thus does suffer for it, but this one made me laugh. I think it would make you laugh, too. You might funnel your fame into snagging the best seat in the house, and spend the evening in laughter.
You've also the remainder of the botanical gardens to see. The physic gardens provided you with many resources through which to perform your vaunted heroics, but I should like for you to see the hortus and viridarium. You'll not have seen its like before, I promise you. You would surely be awarded a private tour, or permission to roam freely if you wished.
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That said, I find myself wishing for all of the above and then some. And I'm going to have to wish for Your Radiance to be my personal chaperone throughout these excursions, your busy schedule permitting. I'm also curious for the patisserie you made mention of before I left for the Valendian coast. You promised me my choice of gateau if only I would return safely to you, if I happen to recall correctly.
I wish to see that promise fulfilled.
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And I am not offended if you desire what my fair Garlemald has on offer. Indeed, it pleases me if she brings you pleasure. I did pluck you up out of your travels. If my company in the Capital might tempt you away from another onset of wanderlust, I can surely make the time.
'Twas a treat for my boys to take their lessons in those gardens now and again. The novelty of peering past the leaves at their tutors, everything all humid and green... They could scarce pay heed to the history or poetry that begged for their attentions. How they would envy you, for I shall not scold you if you can't sit still.
no subject
Sounds like we're going to make a field day of it. A picnic, if you will. I should enjoy the heat and humidity very much. You're not the only one who fares better when it's warm out, Your Radiance.
There's just one other thing.
From even beyond your borders, I have heard tale of a vast repository of knowledge hidden away within the heart of Garlemald. Within the walls of the imperial palace itself, or so the rumor goes. A library of ancient works to put to shame all other libraries, save for those kept under lock and key in Sharlayan. Now, this is all quite hypothetical, but let's say for the moment that I've earned even a fraction of a bell's worth of time to have a look-see around this library. Would you grant me the honor? I consider myself something of a student of history, you see.
no subject
Save for those in Sharlayan! I shan't abide this slander.
[Imagine him: the ringing of a bell, a sweet one. A gold spoon against the edge of a gilded teacup.]
I'll not have you spend another moment misconceiving that our Bibliotheca Astrum does anything less than compete with valor against Sharlayan's enshrouded libraries--at the very least! Perhaps you shall even give them a little more credit than that, once you peruse them for yourself. You would need a bell to begin to understand just how much the Bibliotheca does boast. And a bell you shall have.
Though, if I am not mistaken, you hail from Sharlayan yourself, Master Hitlein. I cannot help but wonder if a bell is all it would take for you to glean the choicest secrets hidden away within my heart, ripe for the buying by those who would pierce it. As Emperor, and thus Garlemald's most fervent guardian, I cannot help but wonder--yet I also cannot help but wish to indulge you with the honors you ask of me.
How is it you've had no other sovereign plying you with treats and titles?
no subject
Sharlayan, though. His mother nation. Proud, but distant from him now. As ever, reality has a way of intruding on his successes...]
You are not mistaken, Your Radiance.
[That's where he wants to leave it. He'd prefer not to think about it.
His thumbs advance and retreat several times before he decides on what to write next.]
Believe it or not, you yourself are the first leader among many to give to me more than a twinkling of time for my efforts. It may sound like a bushel of sour grapes, I'll grant you that, but I consider myself fortunate that no other has seen me for what I truly am. To them I was little more than a passing eccentric with his bottles and burners, with promises no doubt impossible to keep. If not for their refusals, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to bring succor and hope to the Garlean Empire. I wouldn't have been there to save your son, or your people.
It's in my nature to wander about and all over, and yet I can't help but wonder, also, if my good works are yet to be exhausted in the here and now. The bells you're promising me within the Bibliotheca Astrum seem like bells I shouldn't rush out to share with those who thought of me as a clown or a crook.
Mayhap I'm being terribly selfish. I said before that I'm not a better man.
no subject
Now, if he can write a thing gently, it's in going from Master Hitlein to this:]
My dear boy. I must have seemed to you as all the rest of them. Stoic toward your burners and harsh toward your person. Condemnatory in my demands of you.
I should not have burdened you with a first impression such as that.
[He is a deliberate speaker, the Emperor--ever a thoughtful speaker, each word chosen with utmost care--]
I should not have set upon you in the same way as other men.
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[Of course, if Cain had failed, he would not have known ignominy in defeat. He would have been killed. Emperor Solus couldn't have made that more clear to him from where he was set miserably on his throne, in the deepest throes of despair. If you mean what you said and you said what you mean, then you know what it is you must do for me now. I shall entertain no more from you.]
Regardless, you are not and you will never be the same as other men. Not to me. Not at all.
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We have made many plans together, this evening. Too much for us to do in just one day. Tonight ilms closer to completion; thus does your time in solitude. Of all we have discussed, what will you want to do first?
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Let me take you to my library, first of all. You'll want to go back once you have had your look-see, so we will slip other excursions in between.
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[And that's quite the pregnant but, because here he may or may not be making a mistake--]
my heart was holding out hope for that dance. I'll have to remind it to be patient, and at least a little bit grateful, too.
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We shall dance. I will not strain your heart; you'll not need to hold out much longer. I only need your latest measurements, once you are cleared to be descended upon by the nimblest tailor in Garlemald.
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Four more days! Might as well be asking a century's century of me...
But seeing as I'm the one who designed these precepts, I suppose I ought to abide by them.
And I suppose I ought to thank you for providing first-rate amenities in a plague ward.