Indecision
January 2023 | by Dani
Fiction | Ittoril
A hundred dizzying thoughts were swirling through Abigail's mind. One that might be picked out was that the private residence of Empress Aria Areli was, remarkably, not as extravagant as Abigail would've thought. It was still an extraordinarily large house, filled with pristine and expensive furnishings — but it wasn't a palace.
The Empress led the group to a parlour, against the two back walls of which were lined red-cushioned bench-seats. The rest of the furnishings were made of dark, shining wood and clean white panels, and they all smelt lightly of cocoa.
Everything felt so expensive. It made Abigail uneasy.
The five of them sat down (Abigail making an effort to sit close to Belle), while the Empress fetched something from another room.
Abigail looked over at Astrophel, and plucked another thought from her mind. She remembered the disorientating way it felt when he looked at her. No-one else seemed to have gotten that feeling. And yet still, ever since that moment — over the entire trip here — he was yet to recognise her existence again. It didn't at all seem odd to him that she was there. It creeped her out.
Abigail hadn't really chosen to be here. Over the trip, she had wanted to leave, but she didn't want to say anything and risk Astrophel looking at her again. But she also didn't want to just slip away without saying goodbye to Belle. She never ended up leaving.
She remembered how Astrophel was able to speak with the Empress with such casual ease. She leaned over to Belle. "Do you know how Astrophel-"
"No, I don't." Belle was sitting with her face in her hands. Abigail didn't think she was in a good mood.
The Empress came back holding a glass of wine, and Abigail found herself thinking about the wine at home that her parents let her drink on special occasions. The woman sat down across from the five of them, and stared at Astrophel, eyes narrowed. He looked back with eyes wide.
"So, Astrophel, do you think you could elaborate on what you mean by 'secret society'?"
He cleared his throat without blinking. "I've told you about how I was a student at the Empyrean Academy, right?"
She nodded and sipped her wine.
"Well, in the past few months I've been working on trying to restart the academy. However, with the war, and the growth of the Consulate's power since its beginning, I doubt they would allow me to do so. It’s all too 'blasphemous', I suppose."
"Uh-huh."
"So, to stop the Consulate intervening however they please, what if my colleagues and I were to instead start a secret society? It would be composed of scholars and professionals and such, and furthermore, should the Consulate find out about us anyways, they will be loath to discover that they still can't touch us. Why? Well, this is what I ask for; that this secret society of mine be under the patronage of the Empressship. It will be under the protection, and command, of you, Your Majesty."
Abigail tried to sift through her spinning mind and figure out what he was talking about. She didn't know a thing about Leonid politics, but even if she did, it wouldn't help. She was too tired to think. She was overwhelmed.
"And these are your fellow 'scholars and professionals'?" The Empress looked around the group. Abigail thought she saw her frown at her for a moment.
"Yes," Astrophel said, without looking away.
The Empress had directed another question towards Astrophel, but Abigail wasn't paying attention anymore. She was tangled up in her thoughts.
She had decided that she really didn't want to be here. It was too tense sitting across from the most powerful person in the city — maybe even the world. Abigail looked at Belle and got the impression that she was thinking the same thing.
Another strand of thought brushed by her. She thought of the Caravan. It was almost sunset when they got here; the rest of the Bejuk would be leaving soon. She thought of her parents, who were probably worried sick about her — who might have to stay behind to wait for her. She didn't like the thought of getting back late and having them angry at her.
She wanted to leave. She really did, She wanted to get up and go home. But the largest thought in her mind — the one which she was tangled in and which wouldn't let her go — was that she couldn't. She couldn't leave. She couldn't interrupt the Empress of Leona. She couldn't attract her attention. She couldn't make a scene. She just couldn't. She wanted to leave, but she was trapped.
She didn't know what to do.
So Abigail sat there as they talked, quietly panicking as the clock ticked by.