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Siamak was endlessly relieved to have a break between the meeting with his mother and the meeting with the Emissary. He had forgotten just how wearing a conversation with his sister could be - all her “brother dear-ing” and subtly condescending manner had given him a headache and reminded him of the precise reason that he avoided extended conversation with her. And now he would have to spend even more time with her during the meeting with the Emissary, which was looming up only too quickly.
The meeting had not been without use, however; in fact, it had been very helpful. He had several new issues to consider, and though he was no closer to reaching a decision, his mind was clearer. He also had a better idea of the types of questions to bring up with the Emissary later on.
In an attempt to relieve the dull throb in his head and better his mood, Siamak decided to take a walk through the gardens. The sun shone clearly, and the day was warm but not uncomfortable for those accustomed to the desert climate. He confined himself to the more private gardens and saw no other people, thankfully. His walk had the desired calming effect and Siamak was soon ready if uneager to go through another round. He returned to his own quarters, wondering how long he would have to wait. He wanted to get it over with on one hand, but on the other he wished he didn’t have to do it at all. Duty again.
Gjeelea showed up first, looking refreshed and stately as ever. “Good to see you again, Siamak dear,” she said. Siamak could feel the headache returning already. He answered as politely as he could and showed Gjeelea to his reception room. When she saw that the Emissary was not yet present, the princess muttered something unintelligible; the only words Siamak caught were “Emissary” and “late.” Siamak sat on a low couch and Gjeelea followed suit, reclining nearby. He was uneasy in his sister’s presence, and she seemed to enjoy is discomfort. Siamak felt like a mouse being stared at by a cat who had decided a bit of sport was in order. Though tempted to feel intimidated, in a new wash of boldness Siamak returned her gaze with a glare of his own. Gjeelea appeared somewhat taken aback, but her expression spoke volumes, as if she were simply humoring him. Siamak wished he could speak out against her and show her that he would not be under her sway in this or any other decision, but he couldn’t. Right then, he hated her, hated her for her impregnable mental strength, and hated himself for not being able to stand up to her.
He was saved by a knock on the door heralding the Emissary’s arrival. Siamak collected himself as best he could as the Emissary was shown in. After one last look at him, Gjeelea turned her attention to the Emissary. Immediately, Siamak noticed that the foreigner had changed his manner of dress to Pashtia’s. It only made Siamak more wary. He would not be won over by the Emissary nearly so easily as his father had been.
“My apologies for being late. I was finishing up a fascination discussion with the king and some nobles over your religion,” said the Emissary. Siamak nodded absently.
“Emissary, my sister and I have not had the convenience of hearing all you have told our father, so I would ask that you would go over the terms of your offer of alliance again with us. Also, I am curious to know why your lord takes such interest in an alliance with a country so far away from his own,” said Siamak. He listened carefully to the Emissary’s answer, paying especial heed to his manner. His response was nothing Siamak had not expected, and though it seemed straightforward, Siamak could not dislodge the suspicion that in every seed of truth there was a grain of lie.
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