Chapter 9: The Cultural Exchange Delegation (5)
Iskandel’s gaze fell on her slender shoulders as they gave a tiny twitch. Hashana, who had dropped her eyes to the ground, quickly composed her expression and swallowed.
She was used to being the center of attention, yet there was something strangely tangible about Iskandel’s gaze. She knew perfectly well that a person’s eyes could not actually touch her skin, but it felt as if a thin, rough summer cloth were brushing against her.
Trying not to dwell on that peculiar sensation, she answered his complaint.
“I understand that, from your perspective, it may have seemed like a situation ripe for misunderstanding. But no matter what anyone says, Durgtah’s intentions are singular. We simply wish to show our very first honored delegation only the most beautiful side of this fortress-city.”
“All right. Let us see it, then.”
“Oh my, the first beautiful sight of Durgtah you will see is us, of course!”
A dancer in red slipped deftly between Iskandel and Hashana. As Hashana bowed and moved away to the guard captain’s side, the dancers surged forward and scattered the delegation’s formation in an instant.
“We have prepared seats for you in the soldiers’ training yard so you can relax and enjoy our music and dance. Please lie back on the soft cushions and rest while you watch.”
No sooner had the dancer finished speaking than the captain of the outer-wall guard cut in with a stiff tone.
“From this point on, the priests of Disorde and I will take over as your guides. Once you have fully recovered from your journey, send word, and we will invite the saintess again at that time.”
Behind them, Hashana tilted her head slightly in a parting nod, then turned and walked away as if her role were finished. Before Iskandel could follow her retreating figure with his eyes, a group of young men came rushing in, each carrying a heavy cask of liquor.
“This is a special drink we serve only when the goddesses visit! Lady Hashana told us to spare no expense in treating you!”
A sweet-and-sour aroma unlike any liquor he had ever encountered spread on the breeze, and he could hear members of the delegation smacking their lips here and there. Pushed into the training yard without even a chance to refuse, Iskandel clenched his teeth and gave an order to his bodyguard.
“Anyone who gets so drunk he can barely stand will be hung upside down from the city wall. Make sure they know that.”
“Do you really think that kind of warning will work? You handpicked the very men who would say, We can hang later, but we’re drinking now, and brought them here.”
“…Hah.”
As Iskandel sighed, the dancers struck up a loud, rowdy tune.
* * *
The three days the dancers had promised flew by, then four, and now it was the fifth day. In the private quarters assigned to him, Iskandel had not budged from his spot, buried in a mountain of books, when his bodyguard sidled up and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Your Highness. How long are you going to waste time like this? What will you do if rumors spread that the delegation led by the prince is nothing but a pile of trash?”
“That is exactly the rumor I want. I want them to see that these people are the last ones who could ever manage any kind of espionage, even if their lives depended on it.”
“There is such a thing as overdoing it. The lunatics you scraped together are tangled up with the dancers, shamelessly demanding more and more of that precious liquor. Their moans are loud enough to be heard from the top of the mountain!”
“Gods… how far are they planning to embarrass me?”
Iskandel scrubbed his face with both hands, slammed his book shut, and headed straight for the delegation’s quarters with his bodyguard in tow. The group lodging for the delegation was a short distance from the private rooms assigned to him and his guard.
He hadn’t even reached the group quarters when he was assaulted by the sounds of panting and gasping, and the cloying, fishy stench of debauchery. Jaw clenched so hard the veins in his neck stood out, he looked around, then kicked the limp backside of someone sprawled like a rag on the floor.
“Get up, wash, and get yourselves presentable! I am going to ask the saintess to guide us inside the fortress tomorrow morning, so be ready!”
A low chorus of groans and grumbling rose from all over the quarters. It was exactly the reaction he had expected. Without the slightest hint of disappointment, Iskandel flicked his eyes toward his bodyguard. The tall man grinned and drew the sword at his waist.
“His Highness says we can call it disobeying a royal command or whatever, and just cut you down. The capital is crawling with artists, so replacing the likes of you will not be a problem.”
The room fell into a terrified silence.
Only then did the delegation, who had been so drunk on liquor and herbs that their bodies were practically melting, start to glance nervously at one another. The Iskandel they knew might have been a bit touchy at times, but he had never been truly threatening.
But the killing intent radiating from Iskandel and his bodyguard now was unmistakable. A playwright, who had been watching cautiously, scratched his greasy hair and muttered under his breath.
“Our prince leaves home, and suddenly he’s making threats he’s never made in his life…”
“If I wanted to live the way I did in the Capital, I would not have gone through all this trouble to come here.”
The cold reply came without hesitation. Exchanging looks, the artists began to sit up one by one. The bodyguard, who had genuinely been ready to swing his sword, clicked his tongue in disappointment at the lack of bloodshed, then offered them a piece of advice as if he were doing them a favor.
“His Highness actually seems serious for once, so don’t even think about dragging your feet. Go wash, put on proper clothes, and get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”
“Let me be clear: tardiness will not be tolerated. If you cannot open your eyes for roll call tomorrow morning, you will be sleeping forever. Keep that in mind.”
Speaking more curtly than ever before, Iskandel spun on his heel and strode out of the large room.
* * *
The next morning.
When Hashana arrived before the now-spotless quarters, the chaos of the previous days was nowhere to be seen. The delegation, dressed neatly and lined up in perfect rows as if they had never been a pack of drunkards, greeted her with practiced smiles. At their head stood Iskandel, dressed even more splendidly than on the day they first met, who dipped his head in a slight bow.
“We have been waiting for you, Lady Hashana. I was wondering how we could possibly repay the hospitality you have shown us these past few days, and decided that fulfilling our duty would be the best way. That is why I sent for you. I apologize for troubling someone as busy as you.”
“Not at all. I’m relieved to see you all looking so much better after a good rest. Did the food and drink suit your tastes?”
The entire delegation nodded in unison. It seemed Iskandel’s threat—that he would really hack them to pieces if they babbled any nonsense to the saintess—had been quite effective.
While Hashana was still marveling at how orderly and quiet the delegation had become, Iskandel put on a picture-perfect smile and offered some flattering praise.
“Thanks to your special care, every meal was a delight. The natural flavors of the ingredients shone through so well that we found ourselves eagerly anticipating each meal.”
“I am glad you enjoyed it.”
Hashana’s eyes crinkled as she let out a silent sigh of relief. Thanks to the dancers keeping the delegation pinned in the gate district for nearly a week, preparations for the welcoming banquet had been completed without a hitch.
The prince must have chosen only gentle, good-natured people to bring with him. We were worried they might be like the people of Durgtah, who often end up in knife fights when they get drunk, so the guards were on high alert. But these people just sang and danced when they were drunk. The guards said they were actually easy to manage.
Interpreting the delegation’s disgraceful behavior in the most generous way possible, Hashana congratulated herself on her excellent decision and beamed.
“Then I will give you a thorough tour of Durgtah. Compared to the splendor of the Capital where you lived, it may feel a bit dull, so I am already a little embarrassed.”
“Not at all. There is no way it could be dull.”
Iskandel, and even the delegation standing a little ways back, responded with the same formulaic modesty. As if desperate to be noticed, someone behind him added a loud, “Oh, not at all!” and other such pointless remarks, prompting Iskandel to reluctantly gesture toward them.
“The other day, I was too distracted and forgot to introduce the delegation. These gentlemen are the Capital’s finest musicians, painters, and bards—artists of every kind. They are all old, disreputable friends of mine.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you. You have no idea how eagerly I have been awaiting your visit. There are almost no people in Durgtah who make a living through art, so all our citizens are very excited.”
“Our delegation was just as eager to see what kind of place Durgtah would be. Just look at their faces.”
Following the direction of Iskandel’s pointing finger, she turned her head over her shoulder. The delegation, trailing at a slight distance, lifted their hats just a bit and greeted her with their eyes. Watching Hashana exchange greetings with these unfamiliar men, Iskandel slipped in a light joke.
“They did their best to clean themselves up, but they still look terrible, don’t they? They say they were too excited to sleep at the thought of finally setting foot in the impregnable fortress-city.”
A small laugh slipped from her lips, and Iskandel smiled back at her before immediately apologizing.
“Over the past few days, I am sure you have heard from the captain of the outer fortress guard that our delegation has caused you unspeakable trouble. We have behaved with truly unforgivable discourtesy. I will ensure nothing like this ever happens again, so I beg you to be generous and understanding.”
She had intended to accept his repeated apologies with composure, but she decided to seize the opening instead, swallowing dryly.
“Actually… I am the one who should be apologizing to Your Highness.”
“What? Why would you, saintess…?”
Iskandel’s eyes widened at her unexpected words. Without any thought of softening the blow or beating around the bush, Hashana laid out the situation plainly.
“As you heard outside the gate, our holy Rsanda is firmly convinced that Your Highness is a spy. He believes this visit itself is a declaration of war.”
The picture-perfect smile on Iskandel’s face froze. Facing a man whose features were more sculpted than the statues decorating the temple, Hashana let out a sigh that sounded almost sorrowful.
“I am sure this is bewildering for you. Even I find it utterly absurd to be the one delivering such news. Absurd, and shameful.”
The gentle smile and polite tone he had shown just moments ago vanished as Iskandel stared at her in silence. Hashana calmly met his gaze, which was filled with a tangle of complicated emotions.
His eyes were cold. They held a strange, alien quality, like the feeling one might get from the shed husk of an insect rather than something alive.
She liked this version of Iskandel, whose edges were as cold and sharp as a lump of chilled steel, far more than the one who had been dripping with refined kindness a moment earlier. Liking what she saw, she set aside any thought of rudeness and took her time examining his features one by one.
Because of Rsanda’s obsession with symmetry and balance in all things, Hashana could not help but be sensitive to proportions. Even with her discerning eye, however, it was difficult to find a single flaw in his appearance. Among that perfect sense of balance, the part she liked most was, of course, his eyes.
When they caught the light, his irises looked like a subtle blue-gray; when shadow fell over them, they deepened into a dark navy. Their color, which somehow resembled his jet-black hair, and the way the outer corners of his eyes flushed slightly red, made the man look like a bewitchingly beautiful work of art.
He carries the blessing of Karasvati. So this is the man she was so eager to ruin.
On Iskandel’s body, which was so perfect it seemed every inch had been carefully polished and carved, only the faintly chilling gleam that flickered in his eyes felt out of place. Hashana especially liked that unpredictable dissonance.
As if she had been bewitched by those strangely colored eyes that held her gaze, Hashana impulsively asked, “Your Highness. Would you like to run away with me right now?”
She continued, “If you are thinking, I’ve been exposed as a spy, I had better bolt, I would be more than happy to help.”
Iskandel, who had been standing there as if he had forgotten how to speak or change his expression, slowly furrowed his brows. When her throwaway joke was met with such an unexpectedly hostile reaction, Hashana gave an awkward laugh and waved her hand.
“I’m joking.”
“A joke, you say.”
He replied briefly, his brows knitting even deeper, the frown reaching the bridge of his nose.
I thought as much. This woman… She was sure I was a spy from the start and was trying to test me.
Convinced that his cover had been blown, he spoke with coldly polite sarcasm.
“Spies, declarations of war… The jokes are certainly unique here, befitting a city under the protection of the god of war.”
“Ah… I would very much like that part to be a joke as well, but unfortunately, it is not.”
Iskandel’s expression hardened again.
