Luminous

46 - Sharper When Broken

Coris awakened to find himself sprawled across Meya's lap, a bottle of salmiac hovering at his nose, and three women keeping an unblinking vigil from the opposite bench. His roaming eyes settled upon Agnes, and he picked himself upright. Meya took it as her cue to slither away, but before she had even edged an inch to the door, Coris rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Do stay, Meya. Please."

Meya gawked at him. The look in Coris's eyes was as much a plea as a command. Meya settled back down in her corner, sulking in private, sneaking glances as Coris struck up nervous conversation with Lady Agnes.

Despite her fears, Coris and Agnes were businesslike throughout their exchange. Agnes started off recapping her tale, apologized to Coris for her father's sabotage of Hadrian, then plunged straight into the pressing matter of finding Persephia and Klythe. That was where she handed the baton to Meya. Much to her bashfulness, Meya laid out her half-formed plans to uncover the lost Graye twin.

Her ramble over, Meya held her breath and clenched her hands, shooting shifty glances at the surrounding nobility. She took it as a bolstering sign that they'd let her finish, at least.

Arinel nodded slowly, her elbow propped on her knee as she pinched her chin in contemplation. Agnes frowned and bit her lip, naturally conflicted. Her sister was the one being lured into their trap, after all.

Coris twiddled with the salt vial with his long, pale fingers. He nodded to himself then surfaced with a smile.

"You should be more confident, Meya. It's a good plan." He straightened up and pocketed the salt vial, glancing at each of the four women,

"Let's go over the details tonight. I'll find a way to keep our target occupied. I have an audience with Lady Jaise tomorrow morning once we entered the town. You all go take a tour of the town, then come to the castle for dinner."

"Can't I go with you?" Meya bargained. She hated being excluded. She'd had sixteen years of that, being underage, a girl, a peasant and a Greeneye and all. Coris blinked, then gave her a reassuring smile.

"You'd better go walk around. It's a valuable experience." He laid a placating hand over hers, but his eyes betrayed a glimpse of worry. Meya narrowed her eyes.

"More valuable than what you're gunna discuss with Lady Jaise?" Coris grimaced as Meya loomed over him. "What's the matter, Coris? Why can't I join you?"

"Because you're not the real Arinel, Meya."

Agnes replied. Meya spun around. She fixed Meya with her single working eye, a note of dread and awe in her voice,

"The Jaisians grow up not seeing other people's faces. So, they've come to recognize people by their voices. No matter how hard we try, lies leak out through our face, body language and voice. And Jaisians are good at hearing them. Especially Lady Winterwen. One word from you, and she'd know."

Meya shivered. It was a mental pickle, alright. She wanted to be in that meeting, but there was no telling what would ensue should her cover ever be blown. Again.

"But what if the Lady invites Meya for dinner, my lady?" Gretella pointed out, "After all, it would be against etiquette to not extend the wife of a guest an invitation to dine. Since she's a woman ruler herself."

Coris frowned at the wooden floorboards, then gave a soft sigh.

"We might have to switch back to the real Arinel for the time being—But let's leave the worrying for when that happens." He added hastily at the horrified reactions of Real- and Fake-Arinel, squeezing Meya's sweaty hand.