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

[EmperorNorton1]

Henri. Another name to store away. Henri, the marquis du… some French name Chana didn’t care enough to remember. But the name was familiar, it tugged at a little note that Vlad had mentioned on the train. There was a Henri who was very magically adept and a master manipulator. He would be the one to have cursed Katya then. She needed to break her trust of him.

“Those two are stoking your fear so you stay loyal. In fact, your death at my hands, or at the hands of any volhynian, would be good for them.” It was strange but simple enough if you knew political backstabbing. “If you die, and your death is pinned on us, it will rile up hate against the revolution. Bad for us, good for them “ Chana explained, her voice dipping lower as though telling a secret. This was a terribly private conversation that they were having in the street, so even though it was doubtful anyone was eavesdropping, best to keep quiet.

Chana suddenly stopped walking, unlatching her bag, before pulling out a small, sharpened file from a specific pouch. “As for concealed daggers, everyone has one, but no one would use it on you.” Katya was not a threat, Chana was certain of that. "Anyway, we're here."

The shorter woman slipped the file back into her bag, before gesturing up at the storefront that the two were standing in front of. It was a cramped building, narrow in width but three stories tall, the bricks worn by the rain, and the paint on the paneled wooden awning that spelled Descoteaux Livres had faded into a washed-out green. Chana opened the door for Irina, gesturing for the other woman to enter. As she did, a small bell tinkled, and a young man at a desk near the back of the store with a clear view of the entrance glanced up from the book in his hands to give a polite nod to both women. shelves lined the walls and partitioned the store, and rows of books filled the space.

Chana had been recommended Hill Books by Vlad, who apparently had the entire list of all revolutionary establishments and places patronized by reds and yellows in his head. the young man who was keeping shop was likley Raoul de Descoteaux, a child of the petty nobility who dropped out of law school, and convinced his quietly-green parents to fund his rather orange bookstore. aside from him, the bookstore was empty of people.

 

[Solivagante]

It was a bit unnerving, to walk into an unknown shop past a woman who had just casually shown her a concealed knife, but Irina steeled herself and did it anyway, returning the shopkeeper's nod of acknowledgement. As her eyes adjusted to the transition out of sunlight, she took stock of their surroundings. Her first impression was the smell - not unlike Marquis de Chaumont's library, but with an undertone of dust and age which spoke of books kept for reasons other than decoration. And there were more of them than either the Marquis's country house or his townhouse boasted; shelves went up to the ceiling, packed with books of all shapes and sizes. If there was an organization system, she couldn't pick it out at a glance, and she drifted towards the nearest shelf, tilting her head to one side to read titles and try to puzzle it out. Close to the door, at least, they all appeared to be in Lutecian.

"Where in the world should I start?" she asked, looking back at Chana. She'd never been in a store like this - at least, not that she could remember - and felt quite adrift.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

"Well, it depends. Do you want to start with history, or with the natural sciences?" Chana asked the other woman, her eyes already turned to the books, scanning through the lutecian titles. "I'm going to look for a language learner for Zenterimperian, but I'll guide you through if you'd like. I mean, when it comes to the sciences, you've got the sciences of weather, the earth, outside of earth, and then studys of plants and animals and humans and whatnot" Chana's voice was halting through her list, the faint volhynian acsent that normaly flavored her tone growing prominent, the woman trying and failing to remember the lutecian for geology, mineralogy, biology, astronomy... but Katya would probably get her point anyway. perhapse she aught to add a lutecian dictionary to her list, see if there were more complex words she needed to remember.

her eyes running down the line of tomes, the darker haired woman reached out, grabbing a book and muttering something under her breath in Einisch. "this is the romance section, history’s probably just the next shelf over” before leading irina down the little hallway made by shelves, blocking off the shopowner’s view of the two of them.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina's brows went up as Chana started listing natural sciences; she hadn't even considered that as an option, and now she regretted that her meager purse wouldn't stretch to that sort of indulgence. Granted, Henri's library might have better resources on that front than it did on Volhynian history - she hadn't looked yet, having been so focused on the political situation.

"Just history today," she said, following Chana through the aisles of shelves. The space was cramped, big enough for one person to stand and browse but not for two, sacrificing floor space for more shelving. The walls of books around them muffled the already-faint sounds of the street even further, creating a hushed and private space. Irina craned her neck, trying to scan the spines for useful titles.

"Are there any you'd recommend?" She swallowed before adding, "Any from the last... seven years?"

If she was going to delve into the darker history of her family, surely it would be easiest to get the worst over with immediately, and that meant starting with her father's reign.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

"last seven... well..." There probably weren't many scholarly books on the civil war aside from collections of newspapers, that were certain to be biased. but still, Chana made an effort to look, crouching down into a rather ungraceful squat as she scanned through the lower shelves, looking for anything on recent Volhynian history. She paused a moment, grabbing two different books and scanning the backs and inside covers.
"Biography of the tzar written by another noble, you'd probably have that in whatever nobleman's library your palace has." Chana offered the first book with mildly veiled disdain. "it's going to be biased, feel free to flip through it if you'd like, it'll just be praising his non-existent virtues."

"This, on the other hand," Chana then shifted focus to the other book she held, opening it with one hand and narrating as she scanned the inside cover "Is a history written by what looks to be a unitheist and a proliteriaten volhynian based on last names and lack of title. it is a notation on every act of" Chana paused, her thumb rubbing over the words for a brief moment, before suddenly closing the book with a faint thud "political repression, religious persecution, the Cantonists, and every~ orchestrated by Vasarov and his noble friends" the name of Katya's alleged father was practically spat as Chana held out the second book to Irina, as though offering her two options. ignorance or bitter truth. which should Irina, Katya prefer?

 

[Solivagante]

The first book Chana offered her looked familiar - not something Irina herself had red, but something Maria had read to her from, during her time at the de Chaumont country mansion as the noblewoman tried to teach her enough to fill the gaps in her memory. That alone was enough to make it suspect, let alone the way Chana spoke about it. If she wanted to read a book like that, Irina wouldn't have orchestrated today's escapade. She reached instead for the second volume, taking it gingerly from the other woman's hand as if it might bite. Even Chana's brief summary made her anxious, but that was exactly what she was here for - pushing herself beyond what she'd been told, what she had thought was the only truth.

"So, is any author without a noble title likely to be... revolutionary?" Irina was fairly sure that wasn't the right word, but couldn't guess what the right might be. Bending down - though not quite squatting - she scanned the shelves above the ones Chana had considered. If the most recent books were at the bottom, perhaps the shelves were in chronological order. Empress Ekaterin had been nearly a century and a half before Fyodor, so reasonably, that would put her a few shelves up at least.

The books were an eclectic mix, varying widely in size and in binding, with titles and authors printed vertically or horizontally, some painted to be easy to read and some tiny and dark against the leather or paper of the spines. She stepped closer to better inspect them, her skirts and the hem of her coat brushing against Chana as she leaned in.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Chana shook her head as she crouched down again, her hand briefly brushing the layers of Irina's skirt. "well, yes and no. but, if a non-fiction author puts their title next to their name, and flaunts their nobility, they're almost certainly pro-monarchy. There have been Nobel-born revolutionaries, Mykyta Koloz, a red, and a yellow general, Vladyslav Bogandov." Yes, her comrade was the bastard son of some prince. Vlad had proven himself to be a better man, though, and rose above his title. Katya was almost certainly unaware of Vlad being the same man who had intruded on her ball, a man who was, at this very moment, almost certainly writing back to the Premier about what Katya was doing.

The young woman reshelved the monarchist text, running her fingers across the leather and fabric covers of some of the newer books on the very bottom. someday, these books would have their spines cracked, their pages faded and dog-eared. Chana had never owned a new book, they were always more expensive than something loved and used by another. and that was perfectly fine with her. sharing information with others was~

"Katya, would you want a book or two explaining revolutionary thought?" Chana glanced up at the other woman from the floor, the idea having just come into her head, but it was a good idea to her, maybe if Katya understood the theory, that would help her understand

 

[Solivagante]

Irina paused, her hand resting on a small, fabric-bound volume which looked promising.

"Oh. Yes? That would be useful, especially if it explains more about... your theories of governance." After all, good ideas could come from any source, and perhaps there was something the revolutionaries proposed which could be put into place to mollify them - no, to compromise with them. This wasn't about buying someone off with flattery of their ideas, but about actually finding the best solution and figuring out how to implement it.

She pulled the small book off the shelf and flipped it open. It claimed to be the chronicle of a soldier who had fought in the Volhynian Army under Empress Ekaterin, during what Irina knew as glorious victories for the empire; but based on the title, A Treatise of Culture and Carnage, the author would dispute that description. She ran her finger down the page as she skimmed the introduction, keeping track of her place in the tiny print. Yes, it appeared to be focused on the idea that Ekaterin's contributions to Volhynia's arts were a way of distracting the people - or at least the nobles - from the human and financial costs of her wars. That was certainly an idea that none of Maria's or Henri's books had posited.

"What do you think of this?" she asked, holding the book out to Chana. It wasn't that she needed the woman's approval - but perhaps she wanted it, a little. Or at least she wanted to use Chana's reaction as a gauge to evaluate her choices.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Katya was willing to read, which was always good. and hopefully, the texts wouldn't be out of Chana's reach, or Katya's purse. Chana didn't have much in the way of pocket change, but she'd be willing to pay the difference, should Katya come up short. Chana gave a little nod of acknowledgment, before standing up quickly, her legs suddenly burning for no real reason. Ach, she probably needed to spend less time doing paperwork at her desk. Not walking to her office every day was beginning to take a toll.

As the woman turned her head to start looking through the political texts on the wall just beside the history books, Katya pulled her attention by showing her a book, asking for Chana’s approval. Strange, Katya had insisted that she most certainly was not looking for permission for any of her choices. but still, Chana was there to assist the imposter into giving up the golden veil.

"A Treaties of Culture and Carnage" Chana echoed the title aloud, flipping it open to read the description on the second page. "This looks very interesting. I'm not the most well-read on the reign of that empress, but I'm always open to learning more." Ekaterin's glory was preached in the churches and the schoolhouses, but Chana was of the wrong faith to attend the former, and the wrong class to attend the latter. just a lilt of disdain colored the title, but the woman was honest in her desire to learn more.

"then again, it was just a coincidence we've bumped into one another, so who knows if we'll get a chance to exchange books. I reckon your minders will lock you in your room after your prison break" Chana turned over her shoulder, facing the shelf, her voice almost... dismissive in its lightness, as though Chana knew that Irina would never speak to her again, and knew that a third date-encounter promised more information that would otherwise never make it to Katya. the woman tilted her head up, reading the lutecian-translated titles of familiar works. Felix Zhelyabov, An Essay on Bread. Anna Yemelyanov, Workers and Women. Hesya Sablin, Memoirs of a Revolutionary. Andrey Natanson, Duty and Ethics of the Workingman. but What Is Communism by Herman Nettlau would be the best place for Katya to start. it was a simple, concise book, decently short, and no doubt that the forward would include some overview of the most recent revolution.

Chana reached up to grab it off the shelf, her arm stretching up, and... only just brushing the bottom of the book.

Shit.

 

[Solivagante]

"Ideally they'll never know that I left..." Irina's voice trailed off as she realized she had no way to guarantee that. She'd been so focused on getting out of the manor that she hadn't really thought about what it would take to sneak back in - nevermind the fact that Henri or Maria could return from their errands at any time.

Well, there was little she could do about that now. They would find her out or they wouldn't, and either way the die was already cast. Though that did raise another thing she hadn't thought through - what was she to do with any books she purchased? What if she couldn't smuggle them into the manor?

Chana's stretch jarred her from her thoughts a little, and she glanced up to follow the line of the woman's arm up to the book she couldn't quite reach.

"Here," Irina said, setting the two books she'd been carrying sideways on a shelf and stepping closer. Without thinking, she placed a hand on Chana's shoulder as she rose onto her toes, more for stability than lift. While she wasn't all that much taller, a few extra inches were all she needed to pinch the spine and tip the book out and into her hand. It was a slim volume, bound in red fabric, and she held it out to Chana.

"Is this the one you wanted?"

 

[EmperorNorton1]

when Irina suddenly placed her hand on Chana's back, the woman flinched just slightly in surprise, though she did her best to keep steady, her cheeks flushing faintly in what she told herself was mere embarrassment at being unable to reach a high shelf, and having the other woman use her as a way to balance , her hand warm though chana's jacket and shirt, though not as warm as her own face felt.

Chana turned to face irina as soon as the other woman pulled away, praying her face wasn’t too red, some whispered part of her already missing the unwanted warmth. But Chana ignored all that, handing Nettlau back to irina.

“Nearly every revolutionary who has been radicalized by literature rather than life experiences have had their start with old Herman” Chana explained to katya, her eyes not meeting thee other woman’s grey skies, instead focused on the red-sheathed book in Katya’s pale hands. (And most certainly not staring at her hands) Chana hadn’t read it until she was twenty or twenty one, after the revolution. But she didn’t need to read it, really. Chana had lived through the worst of monarchism and capitalism, she knew the ins and outs of how they were broken all too well. But for Katya, who had her memory erased, well…

“Would you want me to kiss you again-“ the words jumped out suddenly from Chana’s lips, her eyes widening slight, a little shocked that she had said them herself. “I- er-“ Chana knew she was blushing furiously. “I’ve no doubt that you will be restricted in your movements even further if you’re caught, and so I want to- I mean only if you want it, but- well-if you want to remember-“ Chana wasn’t tripping over her words. She had been flung off a mountain by them, crashing and rolling into rocks, with no way to prevent the bruises or the stammering. And once she started stammering, once she lost the script she made in her mind, it was damn near impossible to find them again. The woman bit the inside of her cheek, trying to compose herself as quickly as possible.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina took the book back, actually looking at it this time, turning the spine to make out What is Communism in faded lettering she hadn't noticed before. But Chana's next question startled her into looking up and - surely the diplomat wasn't blushing. Or perhaps she was, and it was just a reasonable reaction to doing something so... intimate out of a sense of duty.

I shouldn't take advantage of that, Irina thought, and opened her mouth to refuse, but the words got stuck in her throat. She licked her lips. Maybe it was worse to refuse, if Chana was being generous to make the offer. Maybe they were both using each other and that made it okay. Maybe if she kissed Chana, she'd stop dreaming about it.

Maybe she just wanted to be closer to her.

"If... if it is not asking too much," she said, slowly. "Then yes. I don't know when I would get another chance." A deliberately ambiguous statement, true in many ways.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

it's only duty. that's why Chana blushing, and nothing more, mere second-hand embarrassment on Irina’s behalf at having to kiss an undesirable woman, and one who seeks to tear down all that the woman remembers. Giving a kiss meant nothing, not to her.

Katya was nervous at the prospect of remembering more, it seemed. Who wouldn’t be? And perhaps she was worried of getting caught with her lips against a communist. Chana’s eyes darted around the little aisle, than through a crack between two of the books at Raoul, who’s own head was down at a book he was reading, and then at her own feet, trying to delay eye contact with the other woman as she gave her consent.

“I’ll uh, we’ll do our best to get a maid hired with revolutionary sympathies, if there isn’t one already at your minder’s mansion. They’ll smuggle you out, or myself in, if that’s the only option.” logistics. Planning. That was a safe topic, one Chana could use to calm herself, still her racing pulse, and perhaps even to buy more time- for Irina. To let her be a little more comfortable with the kiss.

“But a kiss now wouldn’t be asking too much. It’s no crime to want healthcare” that was the way to think of it. Chana was merely a doctor to Katya, just as she had been for all the others with cursed before. Clearly, she was far too out of practice with being depersonalized.

 

[Solivagante]

Healthcare. That was one way to look at it. Chana was doing a job; it would behoove Irina not to make her uncomfortable about it. She sighed, forcing herself to relax her shoulders, and carefully set the book on top of the others she'd placed on the lip of the shelf.

"Right. Would it help if I - if I closed my eyes?" Last time she hadn't known what to expect, and perhaps that had made it strange. Now, the anticipation made her antsy, energy in the tips of her fingers and the pit of her stomach. She almost wanted to - well, to be the one to kiss Chana, to make it happen instead of waiting. That would be inappropriate, though. She's just doing a job, Irina reminded herself, and one did not simply grab someone and kiss them for doing their job. Chana was just trying to restore her memory and -

- and Irina hadn't been thinking about her memories at all. That should have been her priority, but she'd gotten so wrapped up in the idea of touching and being touched, kissing and being kissed, that she'd nearly forgotten there was a real purpose behind all this. Irina curled her hands into fists at her sides, holding herself carefully still and determined not to do anything rash. Just to be sure, she closed her eyes and relaxed her jaw, letting her lips part just a little, waiting.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

The woman was set on doing this now then. Alright. Chana’s stomach gave a tiny flutter, but her mind didn’t dare utter a word in response, and as Katya readied herself, Chana stepped close to irina, the other woman shutting her eyes as Chana drew near, her hands balled into fists of displeasure.

“I’m going to put an arm around you, just to keep you supported.” Chana spoke softly, before slipping one arm around Katya’s waist, her palm flat against the middle of her back, the touch light against the fabric of Katya’s dress, the fingers hesitant to touch with substance unless if they were truly needed.

With her other hand, Chana reached up, the digits just brushing against Irina’s cheek for a moment, icy cold, before cupping the woman’s face, steadying it as Chana leaned up and pressed her lips against Irina, her own eyes open and studying the other woman’s for any twitch of movement, any sign that she was about to topple.

 

[Solivagante]

Waiting with her eyes closed had just made Irina more aware of her other senses, and Chana's soft voice and gentle touch were exquisite, delicate sensations. She shivered at the touch of a cool hand on her cheek, sliding down to her jaw, and when it was followed by a warm mouth on hers she leaned into it, chasing the touch and the nervous energy it roused in her. It was partly the same prickling down her spine that she'd felt before, at the ball, but partly something entirely else - the thrill of being so close, so connected, to a person. Not just any person, either, but this particularly frustrating, intriguing, fierce woman and oh, she needed to stop this.

Irina broke away from Chana with a short gasp, moving to rest her forehead against the other woman's shoulder as the sensation of returning memory overtook her. Her hands uncurled and she reached out to grab the edge of the bookshelf to steady herself. It wasn't a bad feeling, but it was overwhelming and strange to feel memories pour back into her mind, simultaneously new and unquestionably familiar. For a moment the bookstore was gone; she smelled rough laundry soap and wood fires, heard a chorus of voices singing off-key, felt the warmth of a child's embrace. As it had been the first time, remembering the girls at the orphanage only to realize she'd never see them again was a particular kind of pain. She had loved them - still did, even from so far away - but there was no way to separate the love from the loss. She kept her eyes closed, her forehead pressed into Chana's shoulder, breathing slowly as her mind settled.

Finally she opened her eyes and lifted her head, blinking, though she'd shed no tears this time. In fact, Irina couldn't suppress the impulse to smile, just a little, at fond memories now restored.

"Thank you," she said quietly, not quite able to meet Chana's eyes.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

The brushing of lips stirred no emotion in Chana, no tingling in her spine or her stomach, no flutter in her chest. And yet, as the woman swayed slightly, her forehead against Chana’s as she grabbed the shelf for balance, Chana felt such a queer feeling in the pit of her stomach as she held the woman tighter, the hand formerly on Irina’s cheek grasping her shoulder, the touch on her back steadying in pressure as the memories flowed back.

Holding this woman, this infuriatingly stubborn, terribly misguided, fiercely principled and inquisitive woman as memories, probably painful ones, were returned… well, it felt good, to put it very simply. It was bittersweet, to know that she was likely returning painful memories, and would continue to give painful ones until Irina trusted her (as irina wasn’t an invert like herself, so kissing a woman wouldn’t feel natural). But helping people? Returning pieces of themselves that had been stolen? Chana missed that work, it had always felt far more fulfilling to see her actions directly help.

Katya pulled back from Chana, a smile on her face, one that confused Chana more than the brushed-aside feelings of satisfaction at helping. Had Chana been able to pull at good memories so quickly?

“I didn’t think you’d trust me this quickly, Katya,” Chana murmured, her eyes continuing to drift back to the fond little smile on Katya’s pink, warm lips. “It was good for you, then?” She added, one hand reaching into her bag, and fumbling blindly around for something, before pulling out a handkerchief, playing with it absentmindedly between her fingers. Chana had shown her a knife just a few scant minutes ago, so either Katya was lying about her attraction to women, trusted too quickly, or simply really liked bookstores. not that chana would dare out katya, but it... perhapse could be some motivation not to stay in lutecia.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina realized her mistake quickly and pressed her lips together, trying to school her traitorous expression to something more neutral. Chana's hand was still warm on her back, supportive and gentle, and she neither wanted to lose that touch nor give herself away.

"I certainly... trust your intentions in this, at least." That was a truth she could afford to voice. "If you plan to harm me, I doubt it will happen in a bookstore. And you are giving me back missing pieces of myself. That is deserving of thanks, is it not?"

She felt more steady, as her restored memories seemed to settle into place and the tension of anticipation faded. Irina let go of her grip on the bookshelf and then, reluctantly, took a step back from Chana. She tugged self-consciously at her coat, as if it were in some sort of disarray. Picking up her small stack of books again, she held them to her chest like a shield.

"I don't mean to impose further, but is there perhaps a place I might read for some time? Before I... return." It would give her time to consider how she would manage to sneak the books back into the mansion, as well.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

As Irina pulled back, Chana removed her arm from the other woman, quickly retreating it back to her side, as the woman in front of Chana settled herself, muttering out some excuse of trusting Chana's intentions. That was a good thing, of course, it was a step in the right direction. but to trust a person so quickly, Chana knew that couldn't be right. there was something more behind those words, something left unvoiced. something that could have been as nothing as something unsettling in the memories, or it could be as massive as a loathing for Chana masked under a desire to use her to get parts of herself back... or the opposite of that, that Irina was an invert. but if it was the third, then that was in no way Chana's place to speculate.

chana fidgeted with the pristine white silk square in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth silver and gold embroidery that lay so close to the fabric it was nearly unfeelable. "well... I know of a few coffee houses, I can't say much to any quality, but I've been meaning to see how incorrectly these Lutecians serve tea." Chana attempted to make a little joke, after all, she doubted that the samovar would be favored, even in the radical's quarter. the distinctly Volhynian water boiler probably had been traded for something else in all places save the most desperate of Volhynian expatriates.

"And uhh, if you're short on funds, I could... I can..." offering to pay was odd, normally Chana was never in the position of having pocket change, of being able to offer a pretty woman a cup of tea, of being able to assist a comrade. she continued to twist the fabric between her hands, a slight stuttering hesitation working its way into her words as her eyes darted away from Irina's and to the wall just beyond her.

 

[Solivagante]

Asking that had been a mistake, clearly; the way Chana hesitated was evident discomfort. Irina had imposed on her enough, then, especially with that kiss. She would have to solve the problem of the books somehow to study them. Squeezing the offending tomes to her chest, she shook her head.

"I have asked too much of you already," she said. "Besides, what would your... comrades say if they saw you taking tea with a royal?" Supposed royal, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. They think you're as much a pretender as she does.

"I'll just... speak to the shopkeep and be on my way. Unless you need something else from a high shelf first." It was part joke, part excuse to linger, to wait and see if Chana would ask her to stay. Doubtless she wouldn't, but Irina didn't want to be the one to close that door.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Irina seemed to backtrack, retreating into herself at Chana's awkwardness, the woman cursing herself internally for letting her own... feelings show. not feelings of loathing, just feelings of nervousness, apprehension, and worry at attempting an unfamiliar ask. but then, irina offered an invitation to be asked to linger, an olive branch in the form of a tease about her own height. the familiar teasing almost seemed to pull away some of the tension, replacing it with an all-too-familiar annoyance and embarrassment.

chana crossed her arms, letting out an exaggerated sigh, muttering a petulant "you have what, two inches on me? three?" her tone softened slightly, before adding a quiet "the volhynian to zenterimperian dictionary happens to be on a top shelf and just out of my reach…” Chana pointed out the book win question a few shelves over from the history books.

“And truly, I don’t care what might be said about me. My comrades know that wooing someone to the revolution takes several conversations. And besides, that promised bit with the promising healthcare and food? Now, I don’t know what you have remembered, but I can speculate that you know real hunger pangs.” Chana was all too familiar with an empty stomach, with injuries and illnesses that couldn’t be treated. And since Katya was just a manipulated woman of the same social class as her, her empathy would be genuine. And the fact that her handlers had consented to adding such a promise in her speech was impressive as well, no doubt irina had to force them to agree.

“And for once, I can pay to take a woman out to tea. A wholly new experience on my part.” Chana offered a nervous and slightly self-deprecating grin. If she was going to get Katya to trust her, It would have to be either most emotions or none. And Katya must be desperate for someone to be honest with her, considering how the nobility postures themself.

And Chana could do that, even if it made her uncomfortable. She could… try to put in a friendlier effort, and focus on Katya, not the princess.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina's glance followed Chana's pointing hand to the dictionary in question, and she popped onto her toes to reach for it, tipping it back into her hand as Chana kept speaking. She paused for a moment, still on tiptoe, at the word 'wooing'. It's a turn of phrase, she reminded herself, dropping back to the ground and holding the book out.

But. Maybe she hadn't overstepped too far. Chana hadn't had to repeat her invitation at all, had she? She could have simply let Irina leave. So either she wasn't uncomfortable, or at least the potential benefits of luring - seducing - convincing Irina to her side were more appealing.

"If you are certain then... I think it sounds quite pleasant." She tried a tentative smile. Besides, if she had questions about the books, she might ask Chana over tea; even if the woman could still lie or obscure the truth, it would help her to understand the revolutionaries' thought processes and beliefs.

"As for hunger... you aren't wrong, but it's more than simply the personal. The policies are reasonable and they make sense." She shrugged one shoulder. "My duty is to Volhynia's people, and what is more fundamental than health and food to their well-being? That's all."

It was and wasn't that simple, but she wasn't about to admit to Chana that she hadn't really thought about these basic issues before their conversation. Her royal re-education had been high-minded, focused on international affairs, the importance of following the gods' will, and large-scale questions. 'The people' as numbers on a piece of paper were very different from 'the people' as individuals whose illnesses or starvation were unique personal tragedies; but acknowledging that aloud would only confirm Chana's belief that she was unfit to rule.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

Chana took her book out of Irina's outstretched hand, tucking it under her left arm, before adjusting the strap of her bag, stowing the handkerchief in her pocket, and returning Katya's nervous smile with one of her own, a slightly hesitant quirk of her lips upward. it really would be nice, the sun was out, it was warm, and... no, now was not the time to endulge the fantasy of walking with a women in love with her down the streets. it was a bourgsusie fantasy almost, a desire for a quiet life and a wife, or it would be, were it not fundamentaly revolutionary by the simple fact that no preist would ever utter "Wife and Wife"

Irina stated those most simple belifes as though they were as clear cut as they sounded. it was odd to hear them out of the mouth of a self-proclaimed emperess, but they were a clear marker of empathy at least, all though not necesaraly of some deep critical thought. empathy runs deeper than logic, thank god, so better to build a politic around it than to quash it.

"So, you intend to keep all the policies of revolution, and yet you still want to rule? Yes, say you do somehow keep free food and free healthcare. well, there are other rights than bread and medicine." Chana responded to irina's talk of duty, that little smile lingering on her face, as she began to step out of the aisle. "The right to self governance, the right to education. and the right to self-fuffilment. you would promise life, who knows how you would deliver. but what of liberty, and what of the right to persue happieness?" Chana seemed to grow in confidence as she spoke, her back straightening a little, and that smile growing as her her voice raised just slightly in volume from emotion, her words firm with belife, and a queer brightness in her eyes.

 

[Solivagante]

Irina's smile lingered as Chana spoke; this felt a little more natural and a little more honest. And besides, she'd been thinking about topics like this since their first meeting.

"Education could be a service like healthcare and food - I don't see why that couldn't be distributed by the government as well. As for self-governance, that raises a question I have for you, actually. The Volhynian Empire is enormous. How can the revolutionary government care for the people in the far east of Kolyma the same way it cares for the people in and around the capital? Will they have representatives who journey far from home to speak on their behalf, and is that truly fair and just to them?" She followed Chana with quick steps. "And I think you might say that they rule themselves separately, but then would they receive the same benefits of food, healthcare, and education that you would give to other Volhynians? For those citizens, is it not better to have an- emperor -" because saying 'empress' seemed a little too telling of her own identity - "-who is bound by duty and the will of the gods to think of their needs?"

She watched Chana's face, eager for any reaction. Irina didn't harbor any hope that she would persuade the other woman, but the way Chana saw the world, thought about it was... stimulating, full of novel ideas and unusual perspectives.

 

[EmperorNorton1]

chana listened patiently to Irina's argument, her head tilted slightly to the side, her eyes flickering only once in the midst of Irina's speech, once in the direction of where the desk with the storekeeper would be, suddenly oddly anxious that perhaps the two of them were overstaying their welcome, the topic having diverged from books to politics. but she quickly glanced back up at Irina. the woman did deserve her full attention, even if other factors were worrying her. She tried to keep her face open, nodding slightly at Katya's issue with communication, and an eyebrow crept up her forehead at the talk of the 'Will of the Gods'

"Your point is valid, that is, your point about how much of a schlep it is to get from Kolyma to the Capital is." chana sliped the one word of einisch, as she nodded her concession, before verbaly and phisicaly shifting the argument and her weight slightly "however, surely a representative who has lived in an area all their life, one who can easily send a telegram to their family and hometown to report on the news, which, yes, we've built telegram wires across volhynia, not that there was much to start with, considering the civil war and... i digress" chana shook her head "but really, who knows more? a chosen representative in constant contact, working colaborativley with other representatives... or some random person who just happened to have a specific surnane. simple, i think." the revolutionist gave a little shrug, before pinching the tip of her nose slightly.

"perhapse we aught to pay for our books? i mean, i'm happy to explain the whole system of goverment, because geographical based representation is only roughly the way one house of legislature works." Chana looked as though she wanted to keep speaking, but was held back by a mix of some anxiety, as well as a sudden dryness in her mouth. if she was going to explain this to katya, she had to do it well, which probably meant that she would need to be drawing a diagram or two. she had to impress katya, in fact, she rather wanted to impress her.