Dark Armor: The Dinner Procession

The Great Northern Dining Hall of the Obsidian Citadel stretched well over two hundred feet from the antechamber entrance to the massive fireplace at the far end. Two long tables ran parallel for most of its length, offering seating enough for most of the court. They were only perhaps half-full at present -- Pallian made no effort to count -- and they were set well enough apart for the Wizard-King and his guests to make a procession down the aisle between them. 

Feeling the eyes upon them, Pallian smiled automatically -- a defensive reflex -- and asked, "Tell me, are you allowed to wear colors in Edrias?"

Third-princess Ashmiren smiled back. Her dress was black silk, and her hair black to match it; but traceries of silver thread wove subtle patterns through the cloth and silver hairpins were wound into her hair, giving her something of the look of a moonlit sky. "Oh, yes," she said, and dipped her head slightly. "We even have these strange contraptions of clear glass in the walls of our palace. They're called 'windows' and they let in the light from the sun." 

There was just a hint of strain in her voice; Pallian couldn't be sure, but he thought she didn't like being at the center of the court's attention any more than he did. "More of your barbaric foreign customs," Pallian said lightly, in an effort to keep her attention on him instead of their audience. "Next you'll be telling me that you actually walk outside, and not even at night."

Ashmiren laughed, the sound soft but seemingly genuine. "Oh, yes. In direct sunlight, yet. I'm afraid so. Our uncultured palates lack your sophisticated appreciation of darkness and gloom."

"Ah, then doubtless you've never learned the joys of brooding, either." Pallian's smile widened. "It's quite the pastime around here. You have to learn it in stages, though; it's important to master the basic frowns before you move on to the more advanced techniques."

The Third-princess arranged her face into a solemn expression. "It's a tragedy, but I fear I have not. In the court of Edrias, we have little to entertain ourselves aside from art and music and theater and other such trivialities."

They were halfway to the high table now. 

"It sounds dreadful," Pallian observed. "How do you even survive all that light and levity?"

"Oh, protective initiations, of course." Princess Ashmiren sounded perfectly serious, and Pallian was suddenly taken by the notion that some of the courtly watchers around them would genuinely believe that she spoke truth to him. The idea alone was nearly enough to break his control; that it was almost certainly true only made it worse. He swallowed down laughter as she continued: "Every child in Edrias is given a basic initiation to protect us from the horrors of the sun, leaving only the warmth and the colors it brings."

"A terrible necessity, I'm sure," Pallian replied. "Well, you will find yourself quite safe from such horrors here; the royalty of Teregor only venture outside during the dark of the moon-- or briefly when there's a full eclipse." 

"...Which is why you keep a stable of riding bats," Ashmiren supplied, looking for all the world as if she had just come to this realization. "How else would you travel the realm during an eclipse?"

Pallian looked away, because he was supposed to be making a dignified approach to the High Table and if he met the Third-princess' eyes again he was going to collapse into helpless laughter. He could already feel tears forming at the corners of his eyes from the effort of keeping his expression serious. Ashmiren might survive such an experience, but Pallian was pretty sure that his father would have him put to death if he did anything to trespass against the dignity of the royalty of Teregor. "Just so," he said. "The bats are the only steeds we could possibly trust under such circumstances." 

"You really must take me riding sometime," said Third-princess Ashmiren, and Pallian realized that they had finally reached the end of the procession. Ahead of them, his father and the High Magister were making their way around opposite sides of the High Table to meet again at the center of its length. Ravaj and Second-princess Arwidden were just separating to follow their lead. 

"The bats are very particular," Pallian said as they strolled forward, "but I'll see what I can do."