Know Your Place (Open)

[Lilandra Monaco]

It was not often that Lia's line of work, either of them, brought her Sapphis Castle proper, but it had tonight. Some 'suitor' or another, having grown impatient with her Highness inability to pick a bride had requested Karishima's 'best girl'. While not a 'girl' by human standards, when it came to her best, that was Lilandra. Or Scheri. But Lia was the one that was available.

She had arrived at the castle, dressed to the nines, secretly ushered in at the servant's entrance, and found her client with no problems. Some four hours later, she emerged fro the suitors room, perhaps a little tired, and her dress not quite as pristine, but bathed and re-perfumed and several gold coins richer.

That should have been the end of her night, but on her way out, the few servants that where still out and about mistook her for a guest, bowing and smiling and even throwing her the occasional; 'ma'am' or 'highness'. Lia hopped it did not make her sound spoiled, but she had missed that feeling. So when she came to the parlor, she went inside.

It was mostly empty, unsurprising given how late it was. But there were a few people around, members of court mostly. But also a few suitors or their servants scattered here and there. They were mostly huddled together and as far apart as they could manage.

On the far wall crackled a firepalce, and Lia made her way there, pausing only long enough to order (by pointing) a class of champagne. Once she reached the fireplace, she slipped off her shoes and snank into one of the cushions set before it, folding her legs under her, hidden by her long dress. She clossed her eyes, siped her drink, and for a moment, felt like a princess agsin.

Until she suddenly felt a gloved hand grip her wrist. Her eyes flung open to spy the same guard whom had let her in four hours before, only he now he smelled of ale. "Ah the whore who thinks she's honored guest, eh?" he slurred, his voice a growl that did not yet carry. Lia shook her head, but his grip only tightened. "You've done what you were rented for, harlot. Be on your way. Unless..." he added, and his face went from angry to leering almost at once.

Lia all bit froze. Again. It was happening again.

"No!" she said, one of the few words in English she had managed to learn. But the memory of an old fear robbed her voice of volume, and her limbs of strength.

The grip grew tighter. He was pulling her to her feet. Her drink fell to the floor, but landed on the cushion and did not shatter.

Her eyes scanned across the room but did not focus on anyone. Were they not seeing this?

Would no one help her?

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

Azhani was still uncomfortable walking through the halls of Sapphis Castle. She knew her way to Anactoria's room like the back of her hand, but that was all. She refrained from speaking to or otherwise interacting with anyone else in the castle as best she could. In her homeland, being a princess took the backseat to her being a warrior. She wasn't used to being waited on hand and foot. She wasn't used to being approached with such respect and reverence. She didn't deserve it, and if she dared tell any of the servants who she was, they'd know she didn't.

What Azhani had learned of life in Sapphis Castle was that it was better to be mistaken for royalty than for not royalty. She'd tried walking in in her usual modest clothing, but that had only gotten her an unwarranted reprimand and a list of errands to do. She had learned from that mistake.

Now she was dressed in an elegant, if not a bit scant, red dress that covered no more than it absolutely needed to. Her arms were covered in black silk elbow gloves to conceal her injured arm, though at this point, though her arm wasn't back to full strength, she could scarcely tell she'd ever been burned at all. Instead of heels, she wore a pair of red silk slippers. She couldn't stand heels, the accursed things. To complete her outfit, she'd wrapped her scarf around the bottom half of her face in case anyone might recognize her.

Princess or not, Azhani didn't like this. She'd been walking blind for the past hour, trying to form a more complete map of the castle in her head should she need to make a hasty escape. ...Not that she fully intended to need one, but... Well, better safe than sorry they said. But in the middle of her journey, Azhani's nose twitched as she caught the scent of something...odd. She'd told Annie she could smell magic, but this was...different. Even for magic.

The princess followed her nose to a room just a few doors down. Whoever the smell was coming from, she couldn't tell, but they were definitely in this room. She stepped in cautiously, spying a guard pulling up some young woman. For the moment, she ignored it and continued scanning the room. No one else seemed to be paying much attention to the situation, and commen sense begged Azhani to do the same, but she thought on it for a moment and asked herself one very simple question.

What would Annie do?

She remembered her encounter with Annie in the marketplace. Though it hadn't been entirely by chance, she hadn't had to help her get her money back. But she did. And got them into trouble later on...

Azhani tiptoed over to the guard and put her hand on the back of his neck. "Your breath reeks of alcohol," she whispered. "I think you've had a little too much to drink." She hit him in the back, knocking him unconscious and catching him as he began to fall. He was heavier than she initially suspected, but she was able to gently set him on the ground. She chuckled aloud. "I guess not everyone can handle the champagne. He's fine," she said to pacify any onlookers. Okay, not exactly how Anactoria would have handled it, but handled nonetheless.

[Lilandra Monaco]

As the drunken gurd went down in a single blow, his grip on Lia loosened and she was able to pull herslef free with on jerk as her rescuer caught his limp form and set him down. She cradled the writs he had been holding wrist to her chest. It didn't hurt per se, it would take more than one human to hurt her, but she held it close and rubbed it all the same. Not all pain was physical, after all.

Lia managed to remember to breathe about then, before looking at her rescuer. Her attire made the lost calodin think of home. Not having seen so much skin on display outside of the House, the site of Azhani's tan skin and obvious muscle tone gave her a kind of homey feeling that helped her relax. She felt comparatively frumpy in the elegant and 'modest' gown she wore, aside from 'tasteful' (whatever that means) cleavage, she was pretty much covered completely from shoulders to ankle.

She wondered why the other woman covered half of her face. Must be some kind of cultural custom.

Once she was sure her voice was steady enough, she nodded her head at the other woman, and spoke one of the few other words she had manged to master.

"Thank you," she said. English. Ugh, what a simple enelgnat language. It always made her sound nasal when she spoke it. And this was clearly a person whom deserved better treatment than a half barked thank you. So she added in her normal musical tongue, though she knew the woman would never understand it, <You have my gratitude. I fear how this would have ended had you not intervened.> A pause, then Lia smiled at Azhani thankfully.

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

Azhani turned back to the dark skinned woman with a forced blank expression. This whole "doing the right thing" thing was still a bit new to her. She'd done good things before, no doubt, but never just because it was the right thing to do. It was always part of a bigger scheme - a con, a means to an end, anything but just because it was the right thing to do.

She felt herself relax a little seeing the woman. Involuntarily. She certainly wasn't from Z'hakaat, but seeing someone else of a similar complexion to Azhani's made her feel a little more at ease in a castle she felt entirely out of place in. She nodded at the rather...odd-sounding thank you, but then the woman said something even stranger.

For a polyglot like Azhani, it was rare for her to hear a language she couldn't speak, but even rarer still for her to hear one that she couldn't even begin to put her finger on. She had absolutely no idea what the woman was saying - she couldn't even guess. Well, she could guess a little, seeing as she smiled at her. Then Azhani suddenly remembered the smell - that same smell that had originally led her to the room. It was coming from the woman. There was no amount of perfume that could hide a smell like that from her.

Azhani tilted her head, unsure of how to proceed. She was standing face to face with a woman who smelled of some strange magic and spoke some strangely lyrical language. But she didn't seem the least bit malicious... The princess lowered her scarf and returned the woman's smile. "Azhani," she introduced herself as she bowed her head. She paused a moment, hoping the woman understood English as she continued. "I don't trust the guards here, and neither should you, but they should leave you alone so long as you're with me."