XXXVI

Kiyor stared at Dorania vacantly, looking much like a scared, clueless child.
    “Why do you keep staring at the door and window?” demanded the woman.
    … “What if someone jumps in and takes me away?” he had asked this so timidly and quietly.
    “Nonsense, no one has ever been taken from this house. Now, get bank into your bed.”
    Dorania waited patiently while Kiyor slowly, very slowly, crawled back into his bed. He sat very tensed. Gripping the duvet tightly, he gingerly raised his eyes to meet hers.
    “I take it you enjoyed the Miso Soup?”
    “Yes,” answered the timid Kiyor, slightly startled. “I thanked Midiro-er, Lord Kirilian already.”
    “Well, the reason I am here, Master Kiyor, is so that you can reveal to me the many secrets of your family.”
    “I shouldn’t,” he said quietly.
    “Are you expected not to, or do not want to?”
    “Both. But I think you figured out one secret already.”
    That puzzled Dorania. “What do you mean?”
    “Well…you’re looking at one.” Though he still looked timid and vacant, Kiyor had a slight look of bewilderment in his eyes.”
    She simply frowned at him. “You are a secret?”
    “Me and some cousins…sort of.” He fidgeted with the bed cover.
    Dorania remembered a woman crying when she had claimed her prisoner. “That woman who cried. Who is she?”
    “My…mother.”
    Lady Kirilian grinned eagerly. “Your mother? A Light Citizen?” She then dwelled on this. “How often do members of your family wed Light Citizens?”
    “Not very, just the ones in my Sect.” He fidgeted more.
    “Sect?” She considered this. “Sect. What did your father mean when he said ‘my Sect’?”
    Kiyor now gaped in open shock. “You don’t know? Everyone knows.”
    “Do they now?” she sounded like she wanted to grate her teeth. Dorania promptly left the room, slamming the door behind her and hurried down the stairs.
    Manira was checking her things in the entrance hall when she heard the name of her Dark Citizen alter ego called out. She froze, as if afraid. But in actual fact she was focussing her eyes to look cold and empty, as they did in the Dark Kingdom.
    “Manar!” summoned Dorania as she descended the stairs.
    “Yes my Lady?” enquired coolly Manar, turning around.
    “What do you know about the Vilkon Sects?”
    “The Sects are the various divisions in the family. Each group of family members follow their own code of conduct and objectives, whatever they may be.” …
    Dorania digested this. “Scythe seemed rather proud of the differences between him and the other members. Does he have any influence or reputation?”
    “I do not have complete knowledge of the inner workings of the Vilkons. Considering he is never mentioned in major Vilkon interactions, we can assume no.”
    The Lady searched her bodyguard’s face. “But?”
    “He has an elder brother, Cadell, and a sister, Sassaren, who is the eldest of the three and leader of the Sect. The siblings make up the-”
    “Vilkon Triad,” Dorania almost whispered. “So they are the members. Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t those three the keenest law enforcers of Vangelion and founders of many projects to serve the Vilkon civilians?”
    “That is correct, however the majority of their work is kept hidden.”

Kiyor had remained in the same place since Dorania left: sat in his bed, clenching the duvet, eyes darting from window to door. He was startled when the door opened again, more so when he saw Rowan walking in. She wore what she usually wore in the Dark Kingdom, but no make-up had been added to her pretty, pale face.
    “Rowan?” he gasped in wonder.
    “Rowani,” she timidly corrected as she closed the door. “At least, in the Light Kingdom it is.” She moved to his bed and sat on the edge, giving him a bottle a similar size to what she drank from earlier, except this one was coloured a dark red. “Drink this, it’ll help you recover.” He removed the bottle top. “I’m trying to make sure you’re ready for tonight. I’m quite certain your father, maybe parents, will be coming then.” He drank. “I sent Manira out just now to get you some clothes. You can borrow some of my make-up.” She took the bottle once it was empty and continued talking while he lay down. “Manira wanted to give you this bottle earlier. She’s so opinionated about my mother. But when I asked her why she wouldn’t just give you this bottle she hesitated, then admitted she didn’t know why. I can’t be sure if it’s because she’s too used to her role as bodyguard and servant, constantly taking orders, or if she actually pities my mother and even cares for her. Probably both. She’d lose her job if found to have given you this, though she’s not sure she wants to keep it she feels she has nowhere else to go. I have nothing to lose. Not really.”
    Kiyor looked a lot calmer. He lay in the bed, relaxed and stared wonderingly at Rowani. She blushed lightly. She ran her fingers through his hair. Then stroked his cheek. His lack of reaction reminded her of someone sleepy.
    “Your parents must be worried about you,” she murmured.
    Kiyor chuckled. “Mum is, not Dad.”
    This confused his lover. “I thought your Dad loves you.”
    “He does, he just also knows every political manoeuvre a noble can make. Dorania can’t hurt me, otherwise she suffers the wrath of the entire Vilkon family. At least everyone in my Sect anyways.” He grinned at that. He then became more thoughtful. “Dad actually hugged me and calmed me down after we got out of the Cathedral. He doesn’t usually show that much public affection. Don’t remember the last time he did.”
    Rowani found herself stroking Kiyor’s cheek again. … She bent towards him for a kiss. Neither of them released it for a very long time.

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©Ruth Amy Louise Hüneke 2008