Chương 46: Vol 1. Servant Hell: Part 2

"Wow," Kurik said. He stepped around Tahir, tugging the dress smooth around his waist, then adjusting one of the necklaces with his claw. Then he stepped back a few paces, examined his subject with narrowed eyes, and then flicked his ears approvingly while he clasped both paws beneath his chin.

"Gorgeous, just absolutely gorgeous." Tahir stood in front of the mirror in that same green dress, alongside matching flats with little pink bows upon the top and three gold necklaces neatly hanging down to the tastefully exposed chest part of his dress. In his ears were an assortment of golden earrings, and on his forearms were an assortment of gold bracelets embroidered with emeralds. Kurik did a good job, though Neri would have adjusted the lowest necklace a little farther to the left.

Tahir looked at himself, reaching out one paw and touching the glass with the tops of his retracted claws. The figure standing inside the mirror copied his movements perfectly. Was… that him? It had been a good long while now since he had felt so clean, so regal, and it… felt as if the person he was looking at was a different person.

"Wow indeed," Tahir agreed.

"This is lovely."

"Oh, I just know your future wife is just going to love you." Tahir's ears folded back so fast that the earrings chimed softly against one another. His paw was ever so slightly tremulous, just barely visible to the naked eye.

"Yeah," Tahir said with a long sigh. One of his paws drifted unconsciously towards one of the bracelets, where he pinched it between his digits and fidgeted it around.

"We will see soon enough." Kurik's smile faltered. Then his eyes widened, and his ears went rigidly straight.

"Wait. Hold on. I was just guessing. Are you actually getting married?" he said giddily.

"To whom? What house? Have you met her? Is she handsome? What is her family's profession? When is the big day?"

"I do not know," Tahir admitted.

"I know that it will be at the Coniton."

"At the Coniton?" Kurik's tail sprang upright.

"That… seems dangerous."

"I do not believe it is dangerous to watch."

"I suppose so… oh, but that might be so romantic; this Coniton is really close to Serothtine, isn't it? Oh, that is the most romantic time of the year, all the banners, the musicians singing love songs—" He stopped. Tahir was no longer looking into the mirror. Kurik noticed a tear slipping over Tahir's left cheek.

"You… do not seem particularly excited."

"No," Tahir said quietly.

"I suppose I do not." Kurik's face turned into an expression of worry. Turning around, he shouted:"I request you all leave Prince Tahir Orien and me to our own devices for a time. I only need one of you to stay behind; the rest can go get ready for dinner." Quickly, the servants devolved into a ball of fighting felines, all trying not to be the last one out the door. Unfortunately, one was, and they grumbled as they took a deep breath and shut the door softly.

"Come," Kurik said. Tahir stiffened as Kurik lifted him by the waist, his claws instinctively retracting, but relaxed once he was plopped into the little chair near the makeup table, which was crowded with little clay pots, gilt brushes, perfume bottles, combs, pins, and shallow dishes of powdered pigments, along with other lotions. The air smelled of rosewater and charcoal. Kurik sat next to him and pulled out a cloth and charcoal eyeliner.

"Here, let's have a guy's moment; tell me what is on your mind while I finish your face up." Tahir looked at him blankly.

"Why would you do that? You are a rival house's consort."

"I am a man first," Kurik stated.

"We have to help each other first and foremost. Now, tell me what is on your mind. Are you getting wedding jitters?" Kurik wiped below Tahir's eyelids and began applying the liquid charcoal mixture. Tahir opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, and said:"Do you ever… Sir Kurik, do you ever wish you had been born a woman?" Kurik stopped, his eyes fluttering.

"I… do not know. I suppose I have never really put much thought into it." He continued applying the eyeliner.

"I… sometimes wish I had been born a woman?"

"Oh? Why would you say that?"

"I do not know, I guess I feel as though my life would be better in many regards." Silence. Then:"I do think there is something to that. Women—they certainly have a lot of benefits that men do not get." Kurik dipped the narrow brush back into the charcoal mixture and wiped the excess against the rim of the little metal dish. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"And why is that?" Tahir asked.

"Well, that is simply how things are." Kurik steadied Tahir's chin with two of his claws.

"Look upward." Tahir obeyed, trying not to wince as he felt the cool, wet liquid charcoal beneath his eye.

"And why is that simply how society is?"

"I can't say I like it personally, but that is just how society is." Kurik finished applying the eyeliner, then took out some orange cheek fur brightener. Slathering the goopy stuff onto his hands, he started to rub it thoroughly through Tahir's cheeks.

"But what if there was a society that did not have those restrictions?" Tahir asked.

"Oh, like the elves? They are androgynous in many ways, I think. Interesting stuff to read about, but I do not think Kharani customs really—""No, not elves," Tahir said.

"Humans." Kurik looked at him, puzzled.

"Humans?"

"What Sir Morton is." Kurik was still confused.

"The burly furless man I came in with. My… guard."

"That was a man?!" Kurik said, shocked.

"I mean… I can kinda see it for sure." Tahir smiled and flicked his ears.

"He definitely gets that reaction quite a bit."

"How long have you known him?" Kurik asked.

"Not too long," Tahir said.

"I see. Where did you find them?"

"A long story," Tahir said.

"Alright then, so where exactly do you—hold on…" Kurik reached out and grabbed some hairpins.

"What type of braid do you want around your neck? Two braids, multiple short braids? How tight?"

"Just two tight braids will be fine."

"Good, good, good, now"—he turned Tahir around in the chair—"where is this… human from?"

"The realm of Texas."

"Interesting. And where is that?"

"I do not know." Kurik divided the fur at the back of Tahir's neck into three even sections. His claws worked through the fluffy fur, crossing one section over another while his brow furrowed; each knot along the braid was extremely small.

"Well, surely you know something or other if he is your guard. How did he get to Avion?"

"I do not know."

"Huh."

"But the Texans," Tahir said, watching Kurik's reflection in the makeup mirror, "their men rule." As those last few syllables came out, he thought of Morton standing before the bandits. His revolver smoking in his hand, his gruff and handsome face in a snarl. He thought of Morton steering the cart from the mountain, knightly shielding Tahir with his own body. Kurik's claws stopped halfway through the second braid.

"The men rule?"

"Yes." Kurik continued.

"How does that work, logically, I mean?"

"I do not know; I think Morton told me that traditionally, the men were the ones who went to war, and were politicians, and were the providers, but by the time he was an adult, that culture was slowly shifting to be more equal between men and women—a shared responsibility."

"Huh," Kurik said, his tail moving in a slow, uncertain motion.

"That is wonderfully odd."

"I do not think so, if I am being honest."

"Why?" Tahir took a deep breath.

"I really cannot say." Kurik worked in silence for a moment.

"I assume your marriage is on your mind, correct?" Tahir didn't answer.

"I know that getting married can be scary, especially if it is an arranged marriage to someone you have not met, but I promise you will be alright. Marriage has only brought me joy."

"It will not bring me joy," Tahir said. His claws tightened around the fabric covering his knees.

"Not unless it is with him."

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," Tahir said.

"Just… why must I marry someone I do not love because that is what my mother wants of me?"

"Because you are her son."

"And why must it be so?"

"I do not know; it is just how things are, like I said. It sucks being a man, but there is only so much you can do. You know, when I first came of marrying age, I refused so many suitors. I did not connect with any of them—no spark. Then one day, my mother sat me down, and she told me if I did not find a suitor, she would find one for me, and that scared me. Then, at a Serothtine party, a really big one where even the royals attended, Korra looked my way.

She came up to me, and she tried putting on this demanding voice, but I knew her heart was fluttering, and mine was too. While she could have requested that I be betrothed to her, she did not.

"She spent the next few months begrudgingly doing all these romantic gestures and even wrote a horrible sonnet that she sang over a cittern… oh boy, that was like nails scratching against glass, but do NOT tell her I said that if you want us both to survive with our tails intact."

"And what is the point of this anecdote, may I ask?" Tahir said.

"Oh, not much, really, just talking, but perhaps if you took any lesson from that, it is that if you found someone of high rank whom you truly, truly loved and who was incredibly kind to you, then your mother would approve and you could marry someone you truly love." Little tears mixed with the eyeliner on Tahir's face.

"Nadir Veryren," he whispered. In that moment, it was as if he was teleported back to that moment. That moment beneath the falling leaves of the oak tree and the autumnal winds swirling around, and in front of him was a sinewy little boy with a wonderful smile and silver earrings, as his mother stood behind him.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"It is nothing."

"Oh, well, the braids are all done! Are you wanting to go out and check up on everyone else?"

"Yes," Tahir said. He got up and made his way towards the door. And as they left, Tahir glanced down the corridor, where Morton and Korra presumably still were. For a singular heartbeat, he saw a broad silhouette of the human on his knees beneath a large tree, a cattish figure behind him, and a nose lowering down to him. Tahir shook his head to and fro and continued walking. Sir Christian… please do not end up like my Nadir.