Courtesan
Life at Blue Blossom estate had gone from a regular pacing of works to a haste that felt almost desperate. Siv had woken up that morning to an urgent ping from Mistress Maevin Maer, and from that point on she had been moving at a breakneck speed.
In a way, the 2nd order maid and Mistress in training was happy that her own Mistress trusted her. When Siv had gotten down to the first floor barely dressed, all the dark haired woman did was order her to handle guest hospitality and move on to pull harvester maids with estate certifications from the fields for extra support.
It felt like a massive weight on the woman with a two toned hair of blond and red. Guest hospitality meant food, quarters, assigned maids, and if she screwed this up, she would be in a world of hurt.
Of course, Siv was not going to be stupid. Her first stop after giving a quick bow to Maevin was to make her way to the Emissary Maids and refresh on what was expected for their guest. Their guest was none other than Countess Nadaela Vanen of House Vanen. She was infamous enough that even she had heard of her. House Vanen was an extremely powerful Gray Council house and only second to the Empress in influence. Rumors had it that Avernell and Vanen were rivals, but the appointment of Lord Henry Patton-Avernell made it worse. High Baron Hesh Avernell wanted to put a Terran in charge while Vanen's High Baron was fully against it. In the end, Hesh Avernell won, but if anything, these people were good at holding grudges. The fact that a powerful woman of said house was arriving unannounced sent a jolt of anxiety through her.
The official statement that Siv had learned was the Countess was on her way to Fort Aldric from her home world of Monolith and decided to stop by since they were in the area. Siv did not believe that explanation one bit.
Right now, she didn't care. They would be here in less than four hours, and even with all the prepping, they still felt unprepared. At that moment, Siv was half running, half walking towards the landing pad as security alerted her of the incoming shuttle from Black Fall Estate up north near Khelen. She was so haggard that she had a notion that her breasts had escaped her tvekel, but she didn't care. The woman only tucked them back after sprinting the last few yards under the colonnade that connected the main house and the shuttle pad. As she stepped forward, she waved away the security guards, who rightfully were suspicious as yet another rival house, House Devenek, had arrived, but her master had worked hard cultivating a relationship with them, and Siv was not going to undermine it.
Standing in front of her was a maid wearing her robe with fur trimmed around her neck and cuffs. A vivid blue wide sash was wrapped around her waist that contrasted against the darker gray, and silver tassels hung from the edge of said sash.
Maevin had made Siv study the maid orders and identification of the houses on Victory, and so she recognized an Estate Maid of the 3rd Order.
“Kita, Estate maid of the 3rd order,” the woman said stiffly with what looked like a sneer hidden in the corners of her mouth.
“Siv, Estate maid of the 2nd order,” she responded, and Kita gave a stiff bow recognizing her rank.
Kita gestured towards the shuttle that two servants had begun unloading two crates emblazoned with the Devenek crest from the back of the shuttle. The gentle clink of glass told her that her rivals had actually accepted her request.
“The ice liquor you requested,” Kita said. “From our master's private stores. He sends his respect and well wishes to your master and his visitor.”
Kaedral Ice Liquor, a special blend of kaedal bark that could only be found on a few moons orbiting the ice giant Veydra in the Haeshan System, which was on the other side of imperial space. It was the only produced alcohol that was comparable in taste and value to the Blue Wine Siv's estate made. It was also a favorite of Countess Vanen and would look good on Lord Henry to have it in stock. The liquor was also extremely expensive, and the fact that Duke Shantuk sent two cases made her impressed and anxious. Siv had only asked for two bottles, and these were sent. A favor for a favor, so she had no clue what would be asked of her later.
Siv bowed to the maid a lot deeper than she needed to acknowledge the gravity of the decision that was made. “Please thank your master for his kindness and to you for accepting my favor.”
Kita simply made a clicking sound with her mouth before turning and returning to her shuttle, which then took back off. Honestly, what else had Siv expected? She signaled to the two servants who had shown up to carry the cases to the kitchens, where Burdak Rikol, their Arch Maid of the Scullery Battalion, would be handling the serving of it.
Goddess, this is nerve-wracking, Siv thought to herself as she immediately turned back towards the estate proper and tried not to sprint.
Everything was prepared as it was going to be. That was something Siv had accepted as soon as she heard from the Mistress to gather in the grand foyer. There were still many things the 1st order maid wanted to get done, but they were out of time. Siv hoped that she hadn't missed anything.
As expected for a visiting dignitary, the Arch Maids, their assistants, and the 1st order maids were present in two lines facing each other to greet their esteemed visitor. Siv quickly took up her position right next to Maevin at the furthest end inside the foyer and folded her hands in front of her, also as expected.
“I saw Ice Liquor in the serving menu,” Maevin said, her voice low so only Siv could hear it. There was a mixture of curiosity and an undercurrent of a threat.
“Yes, mistress,” Siv responded as quietly. “I called in a favor, so our master would have only the finest for our guest.”
The 1st order maid saw Maevin nod out of the corner of her eye.
“The favor better not cost us, Siv,” Maevin warned. “You know what will happen.”
“I'll accept the altar if I embarrass our master,” Siv responded.
“Owing a favor to a rival estate? It won't be the altar, maid. It'll be the talons for you.”
The cold dread that went down Siv's spine made her involuntarily shiver. The Talons of Ala. She had never seen it used, but it was saved for the gravest of indiscretions. There was a statue of their esteemed goddess behind the temple, out of sight, where the unfortunate soul was placed. They had to put their hands and feet in specific spots, which were designed to dislocate the shoulders and hips. The young woman imagined it would be quite excruciating.
Lord Henry himself arrived beside Maevin with that nervous but happy grin that Siv had come to adore.
“Do I look alright?” he whispered to Maevin, tugging on his elegant summer tunic and then running his hand through his light brown hair a few times.
“You look good, my master,” Maevin responded in a warm tone that seemed off to the person that Siv was used to working with. Well, of course it was the case. Siv had seen a gentle side to her mistress a few times, but it was extremely rare. There was a chain of command that had to be kept in line.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Siv?”
The maid started for a second, being referred to directly, and she quickly gave him a bow. “You look impeccable, my master.”
“Please relax, Master,” Maevin soothed. “This isn't your first encounter like this.”
“I know,” Henry responded nervously. “But this is House Vanen. I did my research, Maevin; they don't like Avernell, and they especially don't like me. I heard that the two High Barons got in a yelling match in front of the Empress over me.”
That was probably an exaggeration in Siv's opinion, because nobody would dare raise their voice in the presence of the Empress of all the empire.
“You are the Lord of Blue Blossom, Caretaker of the Emerald Sector, and Fleet Master of the 23rd Battle fleet,” Maevin chided in the gentlest way, which was, again, off-putting.
“Yeah. I know. Still...”
“You have this, my master,” Siv added encouragingly, and the glance of subtle approval from Maevin made her relax a bit for speaking out of turn.
The heavy, intricately carved double doors opened, and immediately every maid in line lowered their head and bowed. Maevin and Henry left Siv's side and walked down to meet the people who had just entered. Siv looked out of the corner of her eye.
Countess Nadaela Vanen was a striking woman with long, flowing purple hair that cascaded past her waist in loose, elegant waves. Her hair shimmered with varying shades of violet as the outside and inside light mixed together. There were several braided sections which had been adorned with ornate golden accessories and deep green gemstones. A pair of decorative ornaments rested near her temples in a distinct Vanen style.
Her eyes were a vivid crimson, framed by dark lashes and subtly pointed features that looked cold as ice from the polar caps.
Countess Vanen was dressed in an elaborate emerald-green gown that hugged her upper body before flowing outward into long, layered fabric. The dress had a deep, elegant neckline and exposed sections of her shoulders, while its loose sleeves draped down her arms. Intricate golden embroidery and bronze-colored ornamentation traced the edges of the fabric, forming swirling patterns that resembled vines or delicate branches.
Decorative emerald gemstones had been set into the metallic embellishments around her neckline, shoulders, and waist. A wide, ornate belt cinched the gown at her waist, adorned with interlocking metalwork and jewel-like details. Her sleeves were asymmetrical in their draping, with fitted sections around her forearms and loose fabric extending toward her wrists.
Siv had seen rich and powerful before when she trained as a courtesan, but this was something else. House Vanen was extremely powerful, extremely rich, and their entire aesthetic was built around the concept of tradition. Henry was the antithesis of tradition, so the 2nd order maid expected things to be extremely tense.
“eta isa udemi rovinve rotunaemaxavienve vanen,” Siv's lord said in almost perfect Xaltean. He still had an accent, but it had become pretty light with the amount of practice he had.
Countess Nadaela's crimson eyes burrowed into Henry, and Siv was amazed he didn't melt immediately under that gaze. He had that characteristic warm smile she herself had been given. Nadaela, in perfect form, curtsied far enough to acknowledge him as tradition required but no further.
“We have your rooms ready if you wish to—”
“No, that's fine,” Nadaela cut him off, looking about. “I would like to sit with you and discuss some things.”
Siv noticed the subtle movement of Maevin switching feet, which she knew meant Maevin was uncomfortable with the situation.
“Do you mind if my people get things in order with your honored maid?” Nadaela continued, referring to the six people standing with her, heads politely lowered.
“I do not mind at all,” Henry continued, and then looked to Siv. “Siv, if you could make sure their honored maid meets Tula, I would appreciate it.”
“As you command, my master,” Siv said with a bow.
The trio began to move, with Nadaela's personal maid keeping close while the others waited. As soon as the leadership was gone, everyone relaxed. Siv immediately looked to the other maids, who began to mingle with the Blue Blossom staff, discussing their specific roles. As Siv watched, something tickled the back of her brain.
There was a young woman wearing the tvekel of a low-ranking estate maid. She was behind her higher-order leader, who was speaking, but when she looked towards one of Blue Blossom's servants, she broke into a very friendly smile and gave the lightest of winks, which caused the other to blush but smile back.
Siv's eyes narrowed immediately as she watched. Even though the woman was dressed as a simple maid, there was something about her movement that just didn't match, but Siv couldn't put a finger on it.
“Peer Taer. I am Nish Kevet. Are your people hungry or thirsty? We have food and drink after your long journey.”
Arch Maid Nish Kevet of the [ESTATE?] legion had arrived and taken command of the situation. Siv hadn't even noticed that Nish had glanced at her for a moment and immediately took on the hostess role, allowing Siv to act as the Mistress and watch. Was it written that much on her face?
“That would be lovely, peer Nish. You are very gracious to us,” Taer, a short man with short aqua-blue hair, responded. “We would love some.”
The entire party was led to a side room where tables of food had been set out for what had to be hungry servants. Siv followed behind, watching very carefully but trying her best not to come across as hostile. That was something she did not want to add on to Lord Henry's massively overloaded plate.
Conversation began to flow between everyone, especially after a few Vanen maids requested to use the casual register in speech, and that was warmly welcomed. If anything, Blue Blossom maids were very amiable and tried to embody the Avernell belief of warmth and beauty. Siv could not get the other maid out of her head, though, as everyone lined up to grab their meals.
“That's Shushema,” a voice said beside her, and Siv started, not realizing she hadn't been paying attention. Standing beside her with his plate and cup was the maid Taer from earlier.
“I'm sorry?”
He nodded towards the woman he had been looking at. “That's Shushema, estate maid of the 9th order. She's a recent addition to Sunfire Ridge Estate. She's been a very good worker, though a bit too friendly at times.”
There was a tone of admonishment in that statement that Siv did understand. A servant that talked too much, especially around people they shouldn't, could have dire effects.
It was when Shushema had made it up to the food after flirting with a few others and took the cup that was offered that it struck Siv. When the Vanen maid had taken the cup and another offered to fill it, Shushema, for a moment, rested the cup on the back of her hand instead of in her palm, but immediately corrected herself within a split second. If Siv hadn't been watching, she would have missed it. The realization of what she was hit her.
That was no estate maid. That was a courtesan.
“Has she been with you long?” Siv asked, sliding into the comfortable and confident persona she had perfected years ago.
Taer took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged. “She was brought on right before the Duchess decided to travel to Fort Aldric for the summit with the Terra Concavum.”
The young woman nodded, watching as Shushema made her way towards the couches and floor cushions, sidling up to a few of the Blue Blossom maids. That made Siv's heart jump a bit. Courtesans were infamous for being able to pull important details from unsuspecting servants. She should know, as she had been training to be one years before arriving at Blue Blossom.
“I see. Hasn't had a chance to understand the importance of tradition as your house is known for,” Siv said politely with a nod to him. “I take it Victory was the only stop?”
“Yes,” Taer said, and then grinned at her. “You're quite curious about our itinerary, Peer Siv.”
“Just curiosity,” Siv deflected with a well-practiced smile. “I've not been offworld since I arrived two summers ago. I do get a bit antsy.”
Waiting only a few moments longer to make her excuses, she stepped into the main corridor and debated what to do next. It was then that she saw Mistress Maevin making her way from the lounge towards the kitchens, and she did not look happy. Still, as much as facing her anger was scary, it was the right thing to do.
“Mistress,” Siv called, hurrying over to her. Maevin's cold eyes turned to her.
“Not now, Siv.”
“Forgive me,” she continued, bowing. “We have an issue.”
“What?”
“One of the Vanen estate maids is actually a courtesan.”
The mistress-in-training was not sure how it was possible, but Maevin's eyes grew colder. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, mistress.”
Maevin leaned in, her voice dropping to a hiss. “Deal with it.” The Mistress didn't wait around but continued on whatever mission she had been given.
Deal with it? How do I deal with a courtesan?, Siv thought to herself, the anxiety bubbling in her chest. House Aldinav Courtesans were trained to exist among the different maids, and calling one out was extremely difficult and a social disaster if not done correctly. Even so, a courtesan asking a question isn't actually breaking any rules if the person being asked answered. How was she supposed to deal with it?
If it wasn't obvious before, it was certain now that the whole trip Duchess Vanen was taking was to investigate Master Henry and his estate. Her unexpected arrival, the fact that there was a hidden courtesan among them. She was looking for information, and if they weren't careful,
Siv thought it over as she walked back toward the side room, slower so she had a chance to get her emotions in check and not give the entire game away. As she did, a plan was coming to mind.
The first thing she had to do was keep Shushema busy with people who had nothing worth extracting.
Keep the junior kitchen staff and the newer field hands near her. Didn't Maevin bring a few harvesters in from the fields? They wouldn't know the day-to-day of what was going on in the main estate.
The next thing she had to do was the part that made her stomach twist: she needed to feed Shushema something. A courtesan who came away with nothing at all would only confirm to House Vanen that there was something to hide. It was better to give her something that felt scandalous but wouldn't be out of place, especially if it was something about Terrans but not in a way that would humiliate her lord.
Siv reached the doorway of the side room and paused, watching Shushema laugh warmly at something one of the stable hands had said, one hand resting with practiced looseness on his forearm.
Gods help me if I screw this up...
Siv found the harvester maids were clustered in the far corner, probably uncomfortable with having to socialize instead of being in the fields. Good. She crossed to the nearest one, a broad-shouldered woman named Peket who Siv only vaguely knew from the fields. She was a powerful woman who ran her own teams with the harvest of the winter rose apples.
“Maid Peket,” Siv said warmly, “would you mind helping our guests feel comfortable?”
Peket blinked, clearly surprised, but nodded. “Of course, Esteemed Siv.”
Siv guided her, and two other harvesters she gathered along the way, toward the cluster of Vanen and Patton-Avernell servants where Shushema had planted herself. It was easy enough to make it look natural, a hostess making sure no guest went untended, introductions offered with a light touch before Siv excused herself to attend to something else. It felt like a dream, leaning into talents she hadn't used in years. Within a few minutes, Shushema had traded her stable hand for an animated conversation with Peket about the difference between Terran and Xaltean crop rotations, a topic so far from anything useful that Siv nearly laughed with relief. That also was information that the courtesan was not a high-ranking one, as they wouldn't have been distracted so easily.
Maybe 9th or 8th order, Siv thought to herself. That solves the immediate problem. Now to keep her at bay.
The mistress-in-training found Nish refilling a tray near the sideboard and touched her elbow lightly, leaning in as if commenting on the food.
“Peer Nish. A word, when you have a moment that doesn't look like a moment.”
Nish's eyes flicked to her, sharply. Nish was quiet and reserved but very strict and quick to read the room. “Of course, Peer Siv. The kevet rolls need restocking anyway.”
They drifted together toward the doorway, and Siv could feel Nish's intense curiosity.
“We have an issue,” Siv started as they stepped out into the hall. “The maid Shushema. She's a courtesan.”
Nish's eyes widened for a split second before she gave a firm nod. “Has the mistress been informed?”
“Yes, she told me to deal with it,” she said, and Siv didn't need the look of pity from the other maid.
“What do you need from me?”
“We need to feed her something that will satiate House Vanen's curiosity but not put our master into a worse situation with such a powerhouse,” Siv began to explain, trying her best not to rattle on. “I just don't have any ideas of what to give them or how? I was hoping you might have an idea. You've worked a lot of estates.”
Nish considered for a moment, tapping a finger against her thigh. “You suspect House Vanen already believes this visit is about Lord Henry's fitness to hold the Emerald Sector. That means whatever we feed her has to answer that question, just not honestly.”
“Meaning?” Siv asked.
“Meaning we need to provide a flaw.” Nish's mouth curved faintly. “Vanen wants proof that Avernell overreached in putting a Terran in charge, but something with almost no real value to use against him, and something that will turn out false in the end.”
The mistress in training frowned. “How do we do that?”
“Let it slip that Lord Henry still struggles with conforming to Xaltean standards. That he struggles with our language and customs still and that the Mistress is covering for him.” Nish said, her tapping finger getting a bit faster. “It was all true at one time, but they won't be here long enough to realize that.”
Siv's stomach eased slightly, then tightened again. “That'll still make him look weak. We can't jeopardize his position.”
“It makes him look Terran,” Nish corrected. “There's a difference, and anyone looking objectively will know that. If Shushema carries back that he's still acting Terran, Vanen gains ammunition for discussion in the Gray Council, but not enough to actually bring before the Gray Council, and if they did investigate, they would find her information is either wrong or outdated. As you know, our lord speaks very well.”
Siv thought of Henry tugging at his tunic in the foyer, asking Maevin twice if he looked alright. It wasn't even a lie. That was what unsettled her most.
“Someone low-order,” Siv said slowly, working it through. “Someone that it wouldn't be suspicious of, but someone we can trust.”
“Exactly.”
Siv nodded. “We just need to find someone who can do it.”
“I can.”
The two women started, having been so deep in conversation in the corner that they hadn't seen the other woman approach. Peket's large frame stood near them. Nish's eyes narrowed into slits as the anger seethed.
“Were you spying on us?”
“I was eavesdropping,” Peket admitted straight away, “because I was curious.”
“I can have you whipped for that.” Siv warned.
“And I will accept it, but I can do it.”
Siv and Nish exchanged glances before looking at the harvester.
“It's risky because if we screw this up, you will go to the Talons just like us,” Nish said, not bothering to hide that she knew the stakes.
“Because of who he is,” Peket said eagerly, the tomboy exploding out. “Just a few weeks ago, he was touring the orchards as we were preparing the plants, saw that we were down a worker who was being examined by a medic, and spent the next two hours climbing up in the trees with us, making sure we could get done on schedule.”
Siv forced herself to keep the smile from reaching her face. That sounded so much like their Terran lord.
“So, I wish to do this to repay what he did for us harvesters, and if it fails, I accept the consequences.”
Nish glanced to Siv, who nodded.
“Then here's the plan.”
Siv had learned the trick of invisibility long ago, and the skill returned easily. She settled herself near the tall arrangement of dried flowering branches against the far wall, angled just enough that anyone glancing across the room would see only her shape, monitoring things but too boring to watch. There was a little alcove of the room near her position that Peket had been moving towards slowly, and from there, they wouldn't be able to spot her.
Shushema had done the drawing in slowly; Siv could see that much. A hand light on Peket's forearm, a lean of the head that made the bigger woman lean back in turn, the two of them forming a small closed circle that excluded the rest of the room without appearing to try. Peket's voice came low and careful, pitched in a way for Siv to hear.
“I probably shouldn't say,” Peket was murmuring, glancing once over her shoulder, “but you asked so kindly, colleague, and it's not as though it's a secret exactly. Everyone here knows.”
“I would never repeat it,” Shushema responded, warm and solemn, and Siv had to admire the craft of it; she had to be a 7th-order courtesan.
Peket lowered her voice further, forcing Shushema to lean in even closer. “It was a Lady of Honor's visit, a few months back. Our lord was greeting her formally, you understand, using the high register the way Mistress Maevin had drilled into him. He meant to say mlebesh. Please, be seated.”
“Mm,” Shushema encouraged softly.
“He said xil-khebesh instead.”
Shushema's breath caught. “He made such an obvious mistake?”
“Yes,” Peket nodded. “To hint that she should sit lewdly was appalling.”
“What did she do?”
“Went white as a bone. Didn't know if she'd been insulted on purpose or by accident, and for a moment neither did anyone else in the room, because our lord just stood there. Didn't catch it himself. Mistress Maer had to step in and smooth it over, said something about Terran tongues still finding their footing, laughed it off light as anything before it could become a true offense.” Peket shook her head, the motion small and confiding. “Between us, colleague, I don't think it was only the words that slipped. I think for a moment he looked at her the way Terrans do, if you understand me, that was the most uncomfortable part.”
“He's young,” Shushema offered gently. “And Terran. I imagine it's difficult, learning all the rules so quickly.”
“That's exactly it. He tries so hard. I'd never speak ill of him truly; he's a good master to us in the orchards. It's only, well. You can't unlearn where you come from, can you? Not fully.”
“No,” Shushema agreed softly. “I suppose you can't.”
She patted Peket's arm once, let the conversation ease naturally toward the sweet table, and asked no other questions. Why would she? Shushema got exactly what she wanted. Siv set down the vase she'd been holding for far too long and allowed herself a slow breath. Across the room, Peket caught her eye, and Siv gave the smallest nod of approval.
It was done. Now all that remained was seeing if it worked.
The great doors of Blue Blossom's foyer stood open to the evening air by the time Countess Nadaela Vanen emerged from her private audience with Henry and Maevin. Whatever had happened in that room, none of it showed on her face.
Siv took her position again at Maevin's side in the receiving line, hands folded, head inclined just enough to be proper. She could feel the tension radiating off her mistress as she stepped beside her.
“We won't be staying the night,” Nadaela said, addressing Henry directly, her crimson eyes unreadable. “I do not want to delay any further.”
Henry's smile faltered for just a fraction of a second before he caught it. “Of course, Countess. I hope the visit was informative.”
“Very.”
Siv kept her eyes lowered and her breath even, watching the small procession begin to assemble near the doors. Shushema fell into step behind Taer with the same easy, unremarkable bearing she'd worn all evening. Nadaela paused at the threshold and looked back once, her gaze sweeping the lines of Blue Blossom maids still bowed, and left.
Siv did not move from her place in line until the party had left. Henry let out a long breath and dragged a hand through his hair. “Well, it could have been worse.”
“It could have, but you held your ground,” Maevin said. The mistress looked in her direction, and Siv gave a nod to let her know she had resolved it. Of course, there would be a report later, but right now, Siv allowed herself to finally breathe.