Fantasy Do you think history wants you to have lived? (EmperorNorton1 and Solivagante)

[Solivagante]

In... out... in... out... Irina kept her gaze on Chana's hand and followed her instructions, helpless to do much else. She felt fragile, and a little pathetic, but it did seem to be working - the vertigo cleared, slowly, and she became all too aware of the pressure of Chana's fingers against her bare wrist, warm and firm and steadying.
"It's never been... that bad," she admitted, speaking slowly. "Maria said it was hereditary... something in the blood." Surely it couldn't be related to her memory - she didn't feel the same way when she tried to recall her childhood, after all. That was just a featureless blank space, an emptiness as if she'd simply appeared out of nowhere and had nothing to remember. But Chana seemed so certain, and if she were a healer of some kind, maybe she could help regardless of the cause.
"If you're sure that you want to help, then... please." The last word was quiet, an admission of vulnerability Irina knew she shouldn't make, but between the illness that had nearly bowled her over and the woman who had kept her upright, the choice was obvious.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

"weaker blood as a result of inbreeding is a problem" Is what Chana would have said, were she trying to get slapped. but despite the long history of cousins marrying each other in the royal bloodline, it was incredibly rude to mention. yet another reason to be anti-monarchy.
"I've been erasing memory curses for... seven? years now. whenever you try to think about the past, you'll get nothing, and whenever you try to say memories aloud, to share them, you get thrown off balance. it's nothing to be ashamed of, you didn't choose to be cursed" was the route that she instead took to explain things.
and now, the awkward part.
Chana let go of the other woman's hand, reaching up with both of her own to cup Irina's face, before pulling herself closer, leaning in and firmly, clinically, without romance, pressing her lips to Irinas for three seconds, before pulling away, before taking up her hands again incase if Irina lashed out as a result of remembering. It usually took three kisses, but Irina had likely been spelled many more times, so more would be needed. but she would have to take things one at a time, so irina wasn't overwhelmed. and best to ignore the way her stomach twisted strangely when she kissed her. it was only nerves, of course. she had done this many times before.

 

[Solivagante]

Oh.
That wasn't what Irina had expected. A spell of some kind, maybe a hand to her forehead to cast it - certainly not a kiss. Her eyes flew wide when Chana cupped her face, stayed open for the brief duration of the kiss. It was dispassionate and still, but enough to register how soft the other woman's lips were. A flush colored Irina's cheeks and crept down her neck, and Chana grasping her hands didn't help, especially not with one hand ungloved skin to skin.
Something smelled like rain.
A prickling sensation ran up her spine and her hands tightened on Chana's involuntarily. Memory returning was a strange feeling, like static sparks inside her head. Irina closed her eyes to focus inward on the barrage of new-old information. Soft dirt under her hands. High-pitched voices laughing, chattering, calling her Katya. The taste of bread warm from the oven, bread she knew she'd made herself. Names, to go with the faces that had haunted her at last. The smell of a ripe apple, still sun-warmed from the tree - and something else, a realization that made her gasp. That wasn't the first time.
Piece by piece, details of her life at the orphanage fell into place, filling in a haziness of 'I made do'. There were still blurry spaces,and trying to think about the journey from Volhynia to Zenterimperium brought on more dizziness, but she knew more than she had before. The odd look Maria had given her earlier, when she'd insisted that two women didn't need a chaperone, suddenly made sense, and that led to another conclusion. Maria knew. About me, and perhaps about my memory.
"How - I didn't know magic like that existed," she managed, finally opening her eyes again. They were wet at the corners, and she tried to blink away the tears. "Outside of fairy tales, that is."
The real question was, could she find someone else who could do what Chana had just done? Because the magic was one thing, but the other woman's approach had been nothing but businesslike, and Irina's reaction... wasn't. She couldn't keep her gaze from straying to Chana's mouth. Spells aside, it would be wrong to ask her to do it again, when Irina knew it was partly borne out of her own selfish desire.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Irina was fighting back tears, as a few memories loosened themselves from the tied-up place they had been kept. weeping was common, and although one kiss for three seconds could only release so much, Rivka had told her how overwhelming it was to remember, both the good and the bad. So Chana simply waited, not letting go of Irina's hands, her thumbs absentmindedly rubbing in circles over Irina's palms.
Kissing Irina felt... odd. Chana had kissed many men and women before, she had kissed Rivka countless times. but there was something.... she'd say thrilling, in kissing the woman who claimed to be a royal, who claimed to be the daughter of the murderer of her father, her mother, her sister... her arms tensed slightly, the rush tasting sour as she pulled her hands away, her shoulders rising with a slight intake of breath as she glanced away, biting her lip as Irina spoke.
"How - I didn't know magic like that existed, Outside of fairy tales, that is."
"It isn't Magic, Irina. That stuff, well... if you want honesty, I must ask for your privacy, that this does not get out." Why, exactly, was Chana telling Irina this? the other woman seemed to be more focused on pointedly avoiding looking at her lips. clearly, the 'good little princess' didn't know that women could kiss. and her head was likely reeling, as she most likely was normal in regard to sexuality. unlike Chana. still, either way, she wouldn't admit to a kiss, so that meant Chana had just a touch of leverage.
"Magic does not work on me, Katya." For the first time since the kiss, Chana locked eyes with the other woman, no disgust in her own brown eyes, only a heavily guarded fear, one that the kiss seemed to have unknowingly located a gap in. to be magically dead, to 'reject a gift from the gods'. to be raised unitheist. the be atheist. to be a homosexual. and to be a communist Chana really had nothing in common with Irina, nothing aside from being born poor and losing a family, then finding a place in the world, and fighting hard to cling to it.

 

[Solivagante]

Chana took her hands away, and Irina missed them immediately, that casual touch (not affectionate, no, but she'd felt connected). Watching the other woman bite her lip, though, she knew she couldn't reach out; Chana was clearly already uncomfortable enough. And why wouldn't she be? They'd spent the whole evening arguing, only to end up in this odd intimacy. Irina should be uncomfortable too. The fact that she wasn't was probably proof that something was wrong with her.
"Magic does not work on me, Katya." Irina didn't mind the name as much now, and even if she did, that statement was shocking enough to distract her from it. Chana's gaze was direct and level, as if she were waiting to be disbelieved. It was probably very like the look Irina had given her when explaining her lost memories. She swallowed her first responses, especially the ones that sounded like Maria in her head.
"Ah," she said, stalling for time. "I see." She didn't. Magic was the gods' touch upon the earth, the tools they gave to humans to execute their will. How could anyone be outside of their influence? Chana had mentioned earlier something about not believing in the gods, but it couldn't be that simple. Not believing in the sun wouldn't stop it from rising, and not believing in Svyatibog wouldn't stop the snow from falling, or your blood from freezing when the right spell was used. And yet, as foreign as the idea was, it seemed oddly fitting. After all, Chana Teper rejected every other form of authority. Why not the divine?
"Do you... eat it?" And that question sounded absurd as soon as it left her lips; Irina hurried on. "I mean, is that why -" She gestured vaguely to her mouth, and that didn't really make her sound less ridiculous, did it? "I just wondered if maybe there was an... easier... way." A way I could ask you to help without taking advantage of you, she thought, guilt settling into the pit of her stomach.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

"Do you... eat it?"
Chana had to pause, blinking several times in confusion and shock. did she what? eat the... A laugh suddenly burst from her, loud and boisterous, tears springing to her eyes as she doubled over, the fit lasting for nearly half a minute before she could control herself. it wasn't half as funny as it should have been, in fact, it was rather rude. but the tension, the kiss, the crashing adrenalin, the lack of sleep, and the sheer bluntness of the ask worked in tandem to cause Chana to laugh harder than she had in years.
"Do i eat the..." Chana gasped out, wiping her eyes, before shaking her head, a smile on her face left still from the fit of giggles. "No, Irina, I dont. I dont know exactly how it works, but uh, from years of trial and error, im guessing that kisses, because of the emotional responce. that then jostles the memory magic a little bit looser, and then it becomes an active spell, since you're fighting against it, and since i can prevent spells from being cast, I can kill the magic. If that makes any sence." Chana semi-rambled. she didnt get to talk about her theory on not having magic, and understanding always helped destroy the bigotry that no doubt had been implanted into the mind of Irina.
"And because I'm a woman, men who are atracted to women and women who are atracted to women often have happier memories pulled out the first time, becuase kissing someone who you could in theory like elicits a more positive responce. likewise, people atracted to men or to nobody usualy get negative ones the first time. I presume yours wasnt so good, it takes a few more kisses to get to good ones then." The more she explained, the easier it would be. Irina looked so uncomfterble,the memory was likely bad, and she wanted to know of another way. And there were other ways, but a kiss on the lips with no tounge was the tamest thing that would work.

 

[Solivagante]

Chana laughed. She smiled. She bent forward and Irina watched her shoulders shake with mirth and could, unobserved, admire the curve of her neck. It felt so good to make someone laugh like that, even by a thoughtless idiotic comment, especially someone as tightly wound and hurting as Chana. It had been years since she'd last heard genuine laughter, not false chuckles or, at best, the hastily stifled giggles of maids at Marquis de Chaumont's estate.
She listened with polite interest to Chana's explanation of breaking spells; her own magical education had, of course, not touched on this, but it seemed... plausible. As Chana described the differing effects her kisses had on different people, though, Irina felt anxiety build in the pit of her stomach. Oh no. Any relief she might have felt at hearing there were more women like her - other than Josephine, at least - disappeared as she realized she was about to have to lie to Chana, or else reveal her own secret. It would be a weapon against her, in the hands of the revolutionaries, a way they could undermine any dynasty she hoped to found. Royals always had dalliances, of course, but even a ruling empress's first duty was to produce an heir to ensure stability. If the Volhynian people, or even the Lutecians, believed she couldn't or wouldn't do that, she would have no hope of support.
"It was... hard," she said carefully. Maria had told her repeatedly that her face gave her away too easily, and while she'd learned to keep her expression flat under most circumstances, a bald-faced lie was a risky thing. Best to hedge and try to give Chana the wrong impression.
"I, ah. Appreciate your help." Her face felt like it would catch fire. "But you should know that this doesn't change my feelings or goals regarding Volhynia. If you... did that to put me in your debt - it won't work."

 

[EmperorNorton1]

"The aim wasn't to keep you indebted to me. I've kissed nearly three hundred people and helped to heal them of a curse they didn't choose. that's healthcare, and everyone has a right to it." Chana gave a little shrug, reaching up to smooth down her hair, which was already beginning to frizz up, a few whisps making their escape for the bun they had been restrained in. "Unlike here, or in the old empire. We've built hospitals, free hospitals, and schools to train healers to fill them, as well as doctors who use natural sciences to treat the less serious injuries so that the healers aren't as overwhelmed." she would have kept rambling, but... she knew Irina couldn't have her intentions changed by facts. But still, Chana was so proud of the hospitals. not only were they being built in the big cities, but in all those little towns dotted across the farmlands as well. The Confederacy and the Republic were working together, and building something good, something to be proud of.
"And if you return the throne, you'll have to bring back the entire noble hierarchy, who will be mad that they are not the only ones who can openly have magic. so, to keep that throne, you'll cut deals, and the hospitals will be for lining the pockets of your nobles, if not shut down entirely." there was real worry in Chana's eyes, and she glanced from Irina and then over to the ballroom, full of nobles who's expropriated wealth was unknowingly used to fund these endeavors. if Irina took the throne, they would want it back. She then returned focus to Irina, her smile gone, though replaced by a more open, understanding look.
"I am willing to kiss you as many times as you need it, Katya. But I will not stop working to prevent you from re-establishing a dead empire. and if you suddenly return to the country, the people will reject you. Power is given not by divine right," she waved one hand in the air, gesturing towards the heavens "But by popular consensus."

 

[Solivagante]

You have so little faith in me, Irina thought, but didn't say. It would sound presumptuous at best; Chana had no reason to have confidence in her, to hope that she'd be better than her ancestors. And without belief in the gods, she saw no risk to leaving Volhynia without its chosen leaders.
Still. The warmth and pride in her voice as she spoke about hospitals was admirable. She entertained a brief fantasy of asking Chana to be an advisor to the crown - but no, Irina didn't need to ask to feel that sting of rejection. From what she'd learned tonight, Chana would die before she served any royal, without exception.
"I would expect to hear nothing else from a representative of the revolutionary government," she said, carefully formal, feeling as if she was folding her feelings up small and storing them away. "I'm just... glad we understand each other." She glanced towards the ballroom as Chana had, and her shoulders dropped. She'd lost track of time out here, in the quiet and with only one person to focus on, but her absence would be increasingly notable the longer they stayed on the balcony. And there were hours left of the ball still to come, hours she could be putting to good use.
"I believe I have learned what I hoped to," she said, standing from the bench and drawing in a deep breath. "Thank you for... sharing your time, Miss Teper. It was most informative."

 

[EmperorNorton1]

And so, their interaction was drawing to a close. It had been a great deal longer than Chana had realized, and her two comrades were likely about to make their exit, as lingering any longer would probably result in some noble grieving his gold trying to murder them both.
"My time and service have been well spent if they have been used to assist you in remembering yourself." Chana stood up as well, brushing smooth her skirt.
"I don't envy the conversation's you'll have, every gossip will be dying to hear how the mad revolutionist tried to kill you and you bravely pardoned her, sent her running home, tail between her legs, or whatever story you decide to go with to make yourself more queenlike," Chana said dryly, before pausing a moment, then adding "If you want to see me again, to get another kiss or simply to talk, I have an address, but you must come alone and you must not tell your minders." Chana pulled a sheet of paper and a pencil out of a pocket in her skirt, tearing off a piece, before using the wall to write an address down. "If you want to learn more about Fyodor's reign of terror, there are people there who would be happy to explain it and could do it more calmly than I" A small self-deprecating smile flitted across her lips. "But if not, I suppose it has been a pleasure to speak with you as well." she handed over the slip of paper, before turning on her heel, and walking to the door, opening, it. She tossed a nod of parting back at Irina, before slipping back into the ballroom, ignoring glares and whispers, making a beeline for Vlad and Sender, the trio meeting at the foot of the stairs, before mounting the steps and absconding.

Irina would be coming to meet her. A taste of curiosity only makes one hungrier and hungrier. and soon enough, the other woman would be starving for the truth. so for now, all she needed to do... is wait.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina had barely had time to tuck Chana's note inside her bodice and pull her glove back on before the balcony door burst open again and Maria hurried - nearly running, actually - over to her.
"Irinushka! Are you well? Did that creature hurt you?" She siezed Irina by her upper arms and turned her from side to side, inspecting her for evidence of harm. Irina allowed it, deliberately making herself pliable to Maria's touch.
"I am fine," she said, trying to placate the other woman. "She did not harm me." Didn't do anything to me would have been more reassuring, but less true. "It was largely an... airing of grievances."
Maria held her out at arm's length, looking into her eyes. After a moment she seemed to be satisfied, and let go of Irina's arms.
"Good, then. I hope this little diversion was as educational as you hoped, and even if it was not, it has certainly made you the talk of the ball. The young empress who risks her life to grant an audience to a revolutionary - it will make quite the story. Now all we must do is show them that you are unharmed and your spirit is undimmed."
Irina drew in a deep breath, looking back to the balcony door and the spill of golden light stretching out from it. More dancing, more polite conversation, now with the added challenge of needing to deflect questions about her 'audience' with Chana. Maria had said the ball wouldn't end until dawn. It would be a long night.

---

King Philip had granted them guest rooms at Semailles for the day and night after the ball, and that was a true act of mercy. By the time the festivities wound down, Irina's head was spinning from lack of sleep and more glasses of champagne than she could count, though she'd tried to be judicious in her drinking. Her feet had progressed from aching to throbbing, and the weighty fabric of her dress seemed to drag at her every step. When the quiet, efficient maids assigned to her finally removed her kokoshnik and unwound her hair, she nearly cried from the lightness of it. It was a near thing that she managed to catch and palm Chana's note as they disrobed her, and she still had it clutched in her hand when she fell into bed and immediately into sleep.
She was too exhausted to dream, and still bleary-eyed when another maid woke her in the mid-afternoon and helped her dress for what remained of the 'day', which was to say for the carriage ride to the de Chaumont manor house on the outskirts of Senonces. On arrival from Henri's country estate they had gone directly to the palace, a courtesy from King Philip to allow Irina to prepare for her grand return in privacy and safety, so this was the first chance she had to see the city, but when she tried to open the curtain to look Maria twitched it shut.
"There's nothing worth seeing out there, my dear," she said with a sniff. "Honestly, Henri, isn't Philip going to do anything about the city? It's becoming a disgrace."
Henri, seated across from them, sighed. "I believe he has Claude... looking into it. I only hope that they warn us before they do anything. The rabble have never liked Claude's 'solutions'."
When they reached the manor, Irina begged off from supper by claiming she was still exhausted and wished to retire early. It wasn't untrue, but served mostly as a convenient excuse to limit her contact with her host and guardian. Someone had spelled her memory, after all, and Maria knew; and what Maria knew, Henri knew too. One of them might have even been the one to do it.
That night, she did dream - of green and growing things, and of kisses that began with red hair but inevitably ended with Chana Teper's dark eyes.

---

It took over a week for Irina to concoct and enact a plan. She started by cautiously questioning Maria, telling her a little of what Chana had said and asking for an explanation. Any lingering hope that she had that Chana might have been wrong was dispelled by Maria's indifference more than anything. Her response to a question about one of the unfamilliar words Chana had used, 'pogrom', was to sniff and wave the topic away. Malcontents and ingrates were the kindest of her words.
After that, it became clear that Irina would have to find answers elsewhere. She tried the manor's small library, but the only books there recent enough were the same ones she'd already studied for two years, which had contained no mention of her father or ancestors' sins. Indeed, they described the past emperors and empresses of Volhynia as if they'd had no faults at all. When she'd first read them, Irina had felt small and fallible, unfit to carry on the Vasarov legacy. Now, it seemed so obvious that that couldn't have been true.
There were social calls and tea parties and dinners and, four days after the ball, a formal announcement to the press. Irina stood at a lectern and delivered a speech which she'd practiced for weeks before, though Henri had grudgingly allowed her to rewrite portions to declare her intention to deliver food and healthcare to all the Volhynian people, in addition to restoring order and the sovereignty of the gods. There were pre-approved questions from vetted reporters, to which she gave pre-written answers, and so many photos her eyes fairly burned with the afterimages of the flash bulbs.
The newspapers, though, led to an idea. On one of their carriage rides home after a tea party with ladies of the Lutecian court, Maria dozed off and Irina had the opportunity to actually open the curtain and observe the city. It was dirty and crowded, yes, but also full of life - people hurried in every direction, chatting and yelling and ducking into and out of shops, and on the corner of one narrow street, a young man in a flat cap was standing on a crate, hawking an armful of papers.
"Krajinan rebels demand release of prisoner!" he shouted, waving a newspaper in the air. "Read all about it, just five sols!"
They rolled past him quickly, but Irina sat back in her seat, thinking. Announcing her return to the press had been a key part of Maria and Henri's strategy - it was the easiest way to spread the news, and they'd carefully coordinated the story and the reporters invited to ensure it would be reported as they wanted. If some members of Lutecia's so-called 'fourth estate' could be counted on to be sympathetic to her cause, might the opposite not also be true? Were there papers which would have reported on the events Chana had mentioned, and did they still have records?
That night, she recovered Chana's note from its hiding spot, wedged under the frame of a painting in her bedroom, and looked at the address again. That would be easier, she thought, before folding it up and tucking it away. It would also be more complicated. Besides, the whole point of this exercise was to independently verify, not to go from blindly accepting one story to another. A source she could find on her own would be better.
She had a few relatively plain dresses in her closet - mostly light, undyed fabrics meant for the heat of the summer. It was still late spring, but the days were warm even if the nights were chilly, and she'd wear a coat and a hat anyway... besides, the alternative was trying to steal a dress from a maid, and Irina couldn't countenance that.
Her opportunity came unexpectedly one day, when Maria swept in while she was having a late breakfast.
"I'm afraid we'll be leaving you all alone today, my dear," she said, sitting down on the edge of the chair across from Irina. "Henri was summoned to Semailles this morning, and I've had word that there is some sort of nonsense at the bank which requires me to meet with them in person. It's absurd, of course, but that's what comes of allowing godless heathens to run amok in this country and handle money."
Irina took a sip of her tea, trying to keep her face impassive. "Will you be gone all day?"
"Most likely. If this ridiculous errand doesn't take the whole day, I may stop at the jeweler's to see if they have any new pieces. At least that would make the trip into the city somewhat worthwhile." Maria tugged on her short gloves. "I hope it won't be too terribly dull for you here today. Perhaps I can bring you back a new pair of earrings."
"I'll be alright, tetushka. I've plenty to study with those treatises on governance the Marquis kindly lent me."
"Such dedication! You will be a wonderful empress. I look forward to seeing it." The countess stood and approached Irina's seat; Irina turned to allow the affectionate air kisses so favored by the Lutecians.
"I'll see you at supper then, my dear," Maria said, and swept out of the room. Irina heard her calling to the butler for her hat, and then the front door opened and shut with a firm, final sound.
She was alone and unsupervised for the first time in a very, very long time.

---

It took a ride in a hansom cab - paid for with a bit of her 'pin money', which hopefully neither of her guardians would notice was missing - to get in to the city center. The driver couldn't or wouldn't go far into the crowded, medieval streets, but he was happy to let Irina off at a cafe not too far from the so-called 'Radicals Quarter'. She drew in a deep breath - regretted it, because the smells of the city were almost overpowering - and tugged her rounded hat down as far as it would go before starting to walk.
Her plan was simple, perhaps too simple: wander until she found a paper seller with a revolutionary-sounding headline, ask him where it was printed, and go there. Hopefully the newspaper office would have archives, or if not at least someone who might be willing to talk about recent history. Or maybe she'd find a bookshop selling texts that weren't in Henri's library; that would work just as well.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

The Volhynian trio quickly made their exit from the castle as quickly as Sender's leg would permit him to move. the diplomat in question just bore a weary look on his face, while Vlad let polite neutrality drop into the rage he had been storing up through the entire encounter, though he managed to hold in his fuming rage until they made it back to the carriage. as soon as he slammed the door shut, the man let out a frustrated grunt, rubbing his forehead with his hand
"Those godsdammned royalist gilded pigs! I swear, they act like we're nothing but filth!" the man growled out in Volhynian through gritted teeth, as he pulled down the blinds to the carriage window.
"Temper, Temper" Sender clucked his tongue, his hands out in a placating manner. "we all knew the nobility acts like that. we're playing their game, remember. on their soil. and we did enter the party without a direct invitation. no doubt we'll be headlining every gossip column."
"Ahh yes, so the mistresses and wives of the petty-bourgeois can titter and gossip about us. the monstrous godsless heathens, slaughterers of innocent children." Vlad ranted, his voice and shoulders tense, restrained from shouting
Chana flinched a little bit at his words, the military man noticing and quickly offering an apology. being called a child-killer, godsless, well, it was the same hate, same accusations that unitheists were bombarded with and slaughtered over. and hearing those same words repeated always made her ill, the strange, nearly floaty, hazy feeling in her stomach as the trio left the palace suddenly sinking and souring into nausea. she rested her head against the wall of the carriage, shutting her eyes as a sense of tiredness washed over her, her head bouncing slightly as the wheels turned against paving stones. it wasn't sleep though, slumber always had evaded the woman. and besides, she had to give her debrief now.
Chana made herself sit up straight, as she smoothed down her hair, as more and more whisps made their escape from her simple updo. "Well, I haven't convinced her yet, but I've given her a taste of the truth. I reckon she'll be knocking at the door in two weeks begging for another answer." Chana started smoothly to Bogandov and Mikhailov. Given her a taste indeed. a taste of a hidden memory, a taste of the world outside... a taste of her lips. Irina's had tasted of champagne and lip stain, sweet and bitter and oddly giddy upon Chana's mouth.
The woman reached up beginning to rub at her mouth, trying to rub away the taste and the thoughts. it was wrong, wrong to have such feelings for an enemy, especially one who was sexually normal. chana possessed no ingrained prejudice against herself, but given how shocked, appalled even, Irina was when she kissed her, it was clear Irina was not attracted to her. and Chana wouldn't want Irina's loyalty to be swayed by affection or lust, as those both can fade as quickly as they arrive, can waver as much as they can burn brightly.
"All I'll need is time. I gave her an address in the immigrants quarter, she'll arrive, a comrade will let us know, and I'll go out to meet her. Katya has been spelled into forgetting herself, so I'll work with her to remove the curses."
"I guess then we know why Katya went along with the royal plot. Remove all magic that you can turn her to the revolution, and have her denounce it. but tonight, you need to get sleep."

" And I don't want you drinking either, we need your level head to handle the fallout"
Sender added to Vlad's orders. both men were aware of Chana's binge drinking when she was emotionally dysregulated, but she would stop herself for duty's sake if they told her to.
Chana nodded firmly, one of her hands slipping into her pocket and curling into a tight fist. it was going to be a long night, wasn't it?.with her other hand, she rubbed below her eyes, her focus starting to drift out the window. but then again, when had she last slept? they had arrived in the city this very night, and the woman hadn't slept on the train ride since the first night. oh. oh, it had been.... several days since she had gotten a full night's rest. well, there had been work to do. but now...
Chana's head began to loll to the side, as her eyelids began to slip shut, only for the woman to start upright, giving a small gasp as her eyes flew open, before beginning to rub at her face. soon enough, the carriage would reach the flat that the quartet of revolutionaries had been renting. and then she could sleep.

---

Chana, perched on the foot of her bed, flipped through the Senonces Tribune, the Times, and the Daily as well as Workers and United Workers all strewn about on the floor around her. Rivka hovered above her, kneeling as she worked a brush through the tangles in the dark woman's hair.
" Honestly Chana, it's been four days, and all you've talked about is politics with them, but not a single word about the ball with me. I mean, I've no doubt you weren't paying a lick of attention to the dresses or the music or the dancing, but can't you at least make up something, some little salacious detail?"the young woman queried her friend, her voice light, a little nudging, a little teasing, but altogether affectionate. after all, Chana had slept for nearly an entire day after the ball, lurching back into a habit that Rivka had seen her fight to break back home in Volhynia.
Chana's shoulders tightened, the woman stiffening slightly, and Rivka let out a short, accusatory laugh as Chana's hair snagged slightly.
"So you did do something! or see something, or hear something. but whatever it was, clearly it's big, if it stayed in your ever-so-tightly-wound brain!" Rivka hopped off the bed, a smirk on her face and an inquisitive look in her eyes as she took Chana's hands, positioning herself in front of her. "you have to tell me!"
"It's nothing, it's really nothing." Chanamuttered quickly, pulling her hands away and schooling her face into a mask of calm, her eyes darting slightly to the side for a moment before she reached for the newspaper.
"If it was only nothing, you would be willing to tell me." Rivka studied the other woman's face, Chana biting her lip slightly as she refused to make eye contact with Rivka, rubbing at the line on her cheek, yet another nervous tick.
"You kissed her, didn't you." Rivka stated, pushing down the news, before hopping up on the bed to sit beside Chana. "so she's cursed then? was she like me? does she have any living family? did she freak when you kissed her? Did she like it, did you like it, was she pretty-"
Chana flopped back on the bed, hiding her face in her hands. "yes, no, yes, no, and I will not be answering those last two" the woman groaned, her palms hiding her flush. why was she even blushing? kisses were nothings given away easily. Chana didn't care for kisses, not a lick. and Katya had been so disgusted, it was clear that she felt little more than repulsion for the act. though something in the conversation they had did stick, as evidenced by the promises made by the alleged empress spread across the headlines of the papers. these were good intentions, free food, and free healthcare. but Katya was a puppet, and the workers would see through that. and of course, more pressing matters were taking a back seat because of Katya. Katya, Irina, the lost empress, a tool for would-be tyrants.
"sooooo you did like it. or her. and you felt something!" Rivka reached down, snatching the front cover of the Times, the front page crested with Katya's face. "She is pretty, and she probably thinks you're interesting!" Rivka landed beside her friend, adjusting her glasses for a moment, before dropping the paper on top of Chana, who had dropped her hands, both women acutely aware of the red blooming on Chana's cheeks.
"Rivkele, a kiss is nothing. and she's normal, not like you or I. I don't have time to admire any looks." Chana held up the newspaper, staring at the photo, before looking over at Rivka. "I'm here to stop a coup, and you're here to keep us safe. we have our duties, and we'd both do whatever is needed to follow through." Chana gave a faint smile at her dear friend, before sitting back up and picking up the brush, resuming where Rivka had left off.
"Vlad and Sender aren't here though... so they won't know that I've 'wasted time' on describing the finery" A small grin crossed her face. "If you must know... she was charming."
" Charming?" Rivka echoed, flipping onto her stomach, and resting her head on her hands to watch Chana
"Yes, though she'd been stiffened into a queen, when she wavered, she felt, she cared. And she wore a beautiful dress, cloth of silver, embroidered, and a deep purple sash."

"I'm sure you found it gaudy"[/]
Rivka muttered, and Chana nodded, eyes faced on the wall. stolen finery while people were starving.
" But you would have loved it, Rivka. I'll try and jot some of the embroidery down if you'd like to try and copy it."Chana glanced behind her at the other young woman, who listened to her story eagerly. Rivka was just as committed to the revolution as Chana, but Rivka had slightly different priorities, a love for the beautiful things that Chana never had time for. but it was good that Rivka was confident enough to live, truly to enjoy life, unlike Chana, who (in her mind) hadn't yet earned that revolutionary joy.

---

While the situation with Katya was the primary reason for the Volhynian Republic choosing Lutecia as the first nation to establish an embassy, it wasn't solely the false princess that mandated the choice. No, the Michal Stenson case that had a month ago been splashed across the headlines of every paper in the nation like the blood of General Anton Petrov had doused the paving stones of Blvd. Saint Francis had led to a backlash of volhynophobia among the lutecian nobility and had rallied the Reds of Krajinia. some pointed fingers, alleging a yellow-unitheist conspiracy, while others attempted to point out the bloody crimes of Petrov. despite being a naturalized citizen of Lutecia, royalist papers called Stenson a traitor. so, it had been Vlad's job to distance the Volhynian republic from the crime and kill accusations of a conspiracy.
Chana hoped he was successful, and hoped for an acquittal. She and Mikhail had been comrades, serving in the same legion during the civil war. the Krajinian 28th mainly dealt with Cantonist conscripts, and despite Mikhail being war-weary, having fought in the war between Lutecia and Zenterimperium, and despite him being older on average and wounded from his service, he was one of the bravest, most dedicated men, volunteering for all of the most dangerous missions. His daughter had been taken, though he and his wife had given up hope that she was still alive.
he was a good, kind man, and when he returned to lutecia as a result of contracting typhus, Chana hoped his life would be easy. Evidently not, with the man acting as the self-appointed avenger and executioner for his people. their people.
Today, Rivka was set to meet with Fredrik Torres, the lawyer working for the defense, in order to volunteer testimony to assist with the case. Chana, already out of the apartment, decided to instead spend the day wandering the workers' quarter. It... felt a little bit like home. Of course, it wasn't as cold as it would be this time of year, the sun beat down harsher, but the smells of poverty and life, bread being baked, the humm of constant conversation, and a thousand drumbeats of feet on paving stone felt so very familiar.
Chana wound her way through the streets, blending in so naturally despite her unfamiliarity with the rest of the city. The woman passed by a few bookstores and cafes that she made note of. but still, her focus on the street signs didn't stop her eyes from catching the one woman who stood out like a sore thumb, dressed in fine, albeit plainer silks, and looking utterly lost. Chana couldn't help but smirk triumphantly. so Irina behaved just as she suspected she would. of course, it might be better to let Katya discover things on her own so that she wouldn't assume things to be staged.
On the other hand, her face was splashed on every newspaper. It wouldn't be long before Katya was recognized. and harassed, or worse. So, Chana made the only logical choice, taking a steadying breath, and running a hand down the cross-body strap of her leather bag. Just as she planned. Now, to act.
"Katya, I'm not entirely surprised to see you here." Chana approached the young woman, standing face to face in naught but a few soft but firm paces, her steps steady and controlled. Chana spared a glance once more at the empress's dress, simple yet expensive silk, as opposed to Chana's own outfit, a faded green simple skirt with embroidered hems courtesy of Rivka (pants underneath the skirt as always) and a plain brown ladies blouse. Classic dress for a poor radical, but naught at all like the fashion of the royal court.

 

[Solivagante]

Distracted by taking in her surroundings, Irina didn't notice anyone approaching her until Chana spoke, and she flinched in surprise. It probably should have crossed her mind that she might run into the revolutionary here - it was the Radicals' Quarter, after all, so where else would Chana be? - but she was wholly unprepared. After that moment of shock, though, came frustration. Couldn't she do just one thing on her own, for herself?

"Miss Teper," she said, keeping her tone neutral and blandly polite. "I hope you're doing well. I'm afraid I don't have time to talk now, but perhaps we can catch up later-" She sidestepped Chana to continue past her down the street. Before that moment, she'd still been trying to figure out where to go, but now she had a direction: away. Which was, arguably, still letting someone else dictate what she did, but at least she had the opportunity to be unpredictable. She took a sharp turn into the first cross-street she came across, walking with long strides as if she knew exactly where she was going, scanning the signs and storefronts as she went for bookstores or newspaper presses.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Chana persued the woman down the street. perhapse she could have reached out and grabbed the woman, preventing her from escaping. but no, she would not lay hands on her. so instead, she fell into the rapid pace of the chase.
"Katya, it’s simply not safe for you to be slumming so cluelessly without a guide.” The woman tried to explain as she placed herself in Katya’s way, her hands out, pleading and placating alike. “If you came to learn more, I’ll take you where you would need to go. But you cannot just walk alone dressed like that and expect to walk unscathed”
Clearly, the royals didn’t teach her any street smarts. Throwing titles and money around may work in “polite society “, but not in the radicals quarter.Irina was going to get herself killed, and Chana was… actualy concerned for her. And not just the diplomaticic fallout, concerned for her.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina was so focused on moving forward that she very nearly ran into Chana, coming to a stop with a frustrated huff instead.

"I can defend myself," she said, trying to sound like she meant it. She wasn't defenseless, but it was a near thing, and it would be easy to get into a scrape she couldn't get out of. Still, that hardly made it Chana's business, and the less time they spent together, the sooner she'd stop seeing Chana's eyes in her dreams.

She hoped.

"I came to learn, but not from you," she said, and it came out a little more vicious than she'd intended. "I have realized there are things that were hidden from me, and I am grateful to you for showing me that, but I have no more desire to be your puppet than anyone else's." She bit her tongue on another speech about duty; it wouldn't change how Chana saw her, anyway.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

smart girl. never trust one individual alone to be telling the entire truth. a bud of respect that had taken root in Chana's mind began to blossom, as an odd feeling of pride filled her heart. it was Chana's words that had made Irina pause and think about all that she had been told, made her disobey her captors to seek more sources, not necessarily unbiased ones, as there must always be bias in history, but more points of view.

"that's admirable, and really very smart of you. I mean, for matters that involve multitudes of people, you ought to consult multitudes of sources, find the common thread, and don't let go!" excitement, of all things, bubbled up slightly in the woman as a small smile stretched the corners of her mouth up. "we both know I'm just as biased as your minders, Katya. but since we are both in the radicals quarter, perhaps I could... recommend you some books to purchase? point you in a good direction only a suggestion of course."

did she just... offer to take the noblewoman shopping? clearly, she would have no idea how to barter or haggle, how to distinguish quality. it was almost like taking a child on some outing, only this child wore silk and was the same age as her, who was so.. lost, yet determined to make her own path. yes, she was a little snippy, but a snippy Irina hopefully meant a rebellious Katya.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina drew herself up, straightening her shoulders and trying to look down her nose at Chana. She still had a few inches on the other woman, but not nearly the advantage she'd had at the ball in heels.

"Are you mocking me, Miss Teper?" It seemed the only logical explanation for the smile on Chana's lips, as if she found the whole situation amusing somehow. "Because I mean what I say, and I'm sure I can find what I want without you if your only intention is to patronize me." She wasn't, but she was hardly going to let Chana know that. It just didn't make sense - she shouldn't be being praised for refusing to do as she had been told. Everyone wanted something from her, wanted her to be something to serve their ends. Chana might be the most up front about it, but that didn't mean that she wasn't still trying to change Irina, challenging her very existence.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Chana furrowed her brow as the other woman chastised her for being patronizing. it was only an honest invitation. She was trying to look intimidating, but Chana was too confused to be scared by a woman who she probably could beat down in a fight.

"really, I don't mean you any insult. it does me no good to trade veiled barbs. I was only offering help. we're looking for the same things, anyway" That little smile dipped into a frown. there was a touch of ulterior motive, to learn more about the woman, to maybe kiss her again (only in a curative way- why did her brain add that quick reminder? Medical use of her lips is the only acceptable way.). She met the other woman's eyes, trying her best to convey honest intent, as one hand fidgeted slightly with the strap of her bag.

 

[Solivagante]

"Oh." Irina's lips pursed as she considered, and she felt a pang of guilt for her rudeness. "Then... yes. That would be helpful." She let her shoulders drop and looked away, not wanting to see Chana's expression when she said what she knew she had to next.

"I apologize for my behavior." No excuses - they came to mind, but she refused to give them voice. At least if she was polite enough about it, Chana wouldn't have another reason to dislike her. "I... would appreciate your guidance. Though I might not take all of your suggestions." That was largely because she'd brought very little money, and had to save some for the cab ride back to Henri's manor, but she also wanted to maintain some semblance of independence.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Chana yet again suplied a smile. just be... polite. she felt bad, she admitted her wrongs, but she stuck to her principle of not being dragged into belief.

"I'm quite glad of that. i have the addresses of a few bookshops, and who owns them, and what way the owner leans. in terms of politics," she hastily clarified her unintended euphemism. Chana was unaware of really anyone's sexualities, nor did she care to learn them. "Oh, and uh- apology accepted. Don't apologize for standing your ground and demanding proof. it's your right as a person." the woman added after a breif pause, giving a little nod, before beginning to walk down the cobbled street, motioning for Irina to follow. the store she was taking her to was a small bookstore, owned by a younger lutecian lawyer who leaned yellow, who tended to mainly have reputable scientific texts. Katya would most likley enjoy some works on the natural sciences as well. and besides, it was the nearest shop to them.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina had to hurry to catch up as Chana set off, but after closing that brief gap she was able to keep pace fairly easily. She stayed just far enough away that there was no risk their arms would brush, and buried her hands in the pockets of her long coat as they walked.

"Thank you," she finally said, after they'd crossed the next street. "For your help, and for the... compliments." She could feel her cheeks reddening and hoped Chana wasn't looking. "I'm sorry for assuming you were being cruel." If Chana had been a Lutecian noble, that kind of effusive praise would have been a trap, meant to make Irina look gullible and unworldly if she accepted it. It felt strange to think that Chana might have meant it, that she actually did think Irina was doing the right thing in some small way.

"I hope you know - I didn't lie about you, after the ball. Make you out to be a mad assassin, or whatever you thought I might say." The rumors had no doubt circulated anyways; court was insatiable in that way, but it was important that Chana, at least, know that Irina hadn't contributed to them.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Polite. Well trained, but Chana couldn’t help but think it was so genuine, the thank you for an honest assessment. Of course, Irina probably didn’t get much honesty, so that’s why she was here. Foolish nobles, you’ve driven her into the arms of the revolution! Chana was indeed to preoccupied to notice the blush, hee thoughts instead those of mockery for the nobles. And if she had spotted the blush, all she would have thought was embarrassment as the cause.

“I have been harsher with my words.but thanks for not calling me some monsterous assassin thirsty for blood. “ the implication of how nobles saw her was darkly amusing. And yes, should it be necessary, Chana would be willing to remove the woman walking beside her. But Katya was trying to grow. So there was no need. “In fact, you can tell your noble counterparts that the PRV does not deal in extrajudicial executions.”

Well, aside from… Chana frowned, and it was likely obvious to both why. Damn, why did everything have to circle back to the tyrants.

 

[Solivagante]

Anymore, at least, Irina thought, but she held her tongue. They were on a public street, after all, and that wasn't an argument to have in public in the Radicals' Quarter, of all places.

"If you were an assassin, you'd be a failure at least twice now," she pointed out instead, trying to keep her tone careless. The idea still made her anxious, especially as she was so willingly following Chana wherever the other woman led today. No one knows I'm here, she realized. If I wash up dead on a riverbank three days from now, they'll have no idea what happened. That was a chilling thought, and she bit her lip and wished she'd thought to bring a knife of some kind. The only defenses she had were spells, and those wouldn't work on Chana.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

“I haven’t the stomach for it, I find, to kill at a stranger’s bidding.” Chana asserted, not technically a lie. She was willing to fight, she had fought in the civil war. And she was willing to kill. Were it that she was walking besides the tzar, the man Katya claimed for a father, Chana had no doubts that she would have ripped the monster’s heart out with her bare hands, or one of several other bloody thoughts that briefly flickered through her mind. Best not to mention that in front of Katya, though.

“I fought in the civil war, in the 28’th Krajanian. If someone attempts to assassinate you, I promise you that I’ll prevent it. Your death does no one good.” Again, a truth, but not the most simple version of it. But if Katya was wary, then Chana would have to do hee best to win her trust. But still. The radical gave a little nod. Katya was only a civilian in wolf’s clothing. Hopefully, she could drop the garb. Undress. What was her brain… no. Chana needed to stop that thought. Katya was afraid of her, as well as normal. And she was not in love with Katya.

 

[Solivagante]

"I suppose I'll take that on faith, then." There was nothing to be gained by pressing the point that it wasn't someone she was most concerned about, but Chana herself. As honest and forthright as the woman was, Irina had also seen her anger and pain at the Volhynian Imperial family and all it represented. Chana might not kill at another's orders, but for herself? For vengeance? That didn't seem so far-fetched. Perhaps, in a terrible twist of irony, the only reason Irina was still alive was Chana's conviction that she wasn't truly a Vasarov.

"It is at least a little comforting to hear that my death wouldn't be politically expedient. To hear Maria and... Henri tell it, every third person I see is hiding poison or a knife. This is the first time I've been outside since we arrived in Senonces." It felt odd to refer to the Marquis by his first name, but it would be stranger to mention his title here. Not that their conversation would have sounded particularly ordinary thus far, either.