Date: Tue, 08 Oct 2002 18:13:10 +1000
From: ocean pomegranite <pomegranite14@hotmail.com>
Subject: palace life part 1

Hi this is my first submission to Nifty

please let me know what you think! e mail: pomegranite14@hotmail.com



For six months out of each year, I belong to the Empress. Myself and the
other fifty-odd members of the Entourage de la Lune reside in special
quarters in a wing of the Imperial Palace. We're treated like spoiled
children during our stay, but I suspect that this is partly to keep us out
of the city and out of trouble.

While at the Palace my contact with others is limited mostly to my fellow
entertainers and the Imperial Service, a near army of maids, handmaids,
cleaners, cooks, and more folks that I could only guess at their
function. Each year, every one of us gets one of these servants assigned to
us, to cater to our every need, pamper us and keep an eye on us. The
"assigned" sleeps in a room adjoining to mine and it's inevitable that we
become close during my stay.

"la Lune" performs in an outdoor amphitheater every Friday night for the
audience of the Empress' choice, usually consisting of court nobles and
politicians. However, a couple of times a term, She will decide (for
political reasons, or outright kindness, i've never been sure) that we will
entertain to an "open" audience. Meaning, the lowest of the low and
everybody up from there. I particularily enjoy those evenings. Usually the
festivities will continue much later into the night, and I don't feel quite
so out of my depth. The spectators are much more appreciative, and this
honesty brings out some of our best performances.



This last year we arrived (this was my twelfth year in the Entourage, thus,
my twelfth visit to the Palace) late for the first time in my memory. Our
tour on the Sixth Continent had been extended and we had been cutting it
close ever since we wrapped up the last show a week ago. We stood in the
mammoth entry hall as the rain thundered down outside, the sky the same
colour as our deceptively subdude traveling gear. I could hear the water
dripping off of the many cloaks, patpatpatting on the marble floor, and
then the sound echoing up into the heights of the domed ceiling and
multiplying by infinity. We must have stood there for twenty minutes, and I
think we all felt a certain amount of apprehension. People started
whispering, some wondering if the empress was displeased with us. Danule
was pacing and nervously twisting his moustache, a sign that the usually
stoic man was at his wits end.

Eventually a bustling figure appeared from the gloom at the far end of the
hall. I strained my eyes but could see no doorway there.

''So sorry to keep you all waiting. It's wonderful that you are here at
last. Her Imperial Highness was beginning to worry!" A few relieved grins
burst into view at this. The empress was worried about us. Not angry.

This short, lithe creature who adressed us was Head Chancellor Kamoo
Kunori, the most efficient being I have ever encountered. Efficient, but
not without a sense of humour. He clasped Danule's hands gratefully and
bowed his head for a moment and then adressed us all with a guilty smile.

"I do so hate to throw this at you at the last minute, but the Empress has
had some unexpected guests who she would like.... entertained. She extends
her sincere apologies at the lateness of the request and hopes that you are
not too travel worn for a brief performance." Quiet groans from some of the
company were silenced with an evil eye from Danule's direction."Now, I
think the best course of action is for you all to be shown your quarters
where you may leave your things, and then proceed to the dressing area
immediately. Your "attendants" will be assigned immediately after the
performance and then you will all be allowed your well deserved rest."

There was some minor grumbling as we were herded up the side stairs, but
not much. One of the distinguishing things about Entourage de la Lune is
the general lack of attitude. Anyone who does not pull his or her own
weight, or who exhibits any ill will towards others is ejected before they
even reach second level training. It sounds idealistic, but our troupe has
been entertaining the world for over four hundred years and it has been a
most effective method.

As we proceeded down what seemed like miles of familiar corridors, Isaac
caught up to me and poked me in the ribs so hard that my breath whooshed
out and I nearly dropped my bags.

"what're you...?" I sputtered, but he cut me off.

"Hey Saskia bebe, another year another eight thousand eh? It feels good to
be back here doesn't it?"

I had to agree, it did feel good. And as he said the money is
nice. Especially when you have absolutely zero expenses while you are
earning that money. Isaac is a couple of years younger than I, one of the
top Level tumblers, and an incredibly witty and caring person. We have alot
of fun together, and get into alot of trouble. We share an affinity for
heights and alcohol. Perhaps not the safest of pasttimes, especially when
combined.



The performance went quickly and in a bit of haze for me. Everyone was
still in good shape from our hectic tour, and our repertoire was tight and
flawless but we were tired. The Empress' mysterious guests were female, and
from the resemblance to Her Highness hereself, I wondered if they were
relatives of hers, and if so, why hadn't I seen them before? I barely had
time to wonder as we hustled out of costume, wiped off the paint and sweat
and reconvened in the enormous pagoda that served as the amphitheater
lobby.

The Empress glided along the ranks of performers as she customarily did,
and greeted each and every one of us with her small elegant smile and
highly intelligent gaze. In private, we spoke of her indulgently, as of a
little sister, for she was younger than the majority of us, but in her
presence we were slightly cowedh. Her power was evident. Danule practically
prostrated himself when she adressed him. He worshipped her, and though she
was courteous to him, I always got a sense that she was searching for the
real man hiding beneath this submission. Knowing him as I did, I thought
that if the two of them stripped off their respective disguises, they would
be a formidable match for each other.

This year as she paused and took my hands in hers as always, she said my
name for the first time.  "Saskia, it is good to see you again. As I see
you changing each year, I see myself changing as well, for we were born the
same month twenty-two years ago."

Feeling completely astonished that she not only remembered my name, but
knew my age as well, I could only nod and grin until she passed to the
Level Four Juggler on my right, leaving faint traces of cherry blossom in
my nostrils.



As the Attendants were brought out I noticed two figures in particular. The
first was a gorgeous young man, clothed in the obligatory dark red robes,
with a large but not unattractive nose, and unruly brown curls. He was of a
type that I'm often attracted to, but have had little success with. Maybe
my luck will change this time I thought, even as I wished (not for the
first time), that performers could be assigned attendants of the opposite
sex.  Soon though, my eyes roved to a different person, and this one held
my attention for reasons I could only guess at.

Her narrow face was of an almost metallic brownish-green colour and she had
short cropped hair that framed regal cheekbones. Her eyes were so
strange... they looked as if they had been lightly dusted with gold.

However, physical distinction was not what set this woman apart. There were
people of uncountable origins in service to the Empress. The difference was
that there was not a servile bone in her body. Servitude would have been
the very antithesis of her bearing. She stood tall and alert, though
seemingly slightly indifferent. Her posture reminded me of something wild,
feigning tameness until the moment came to make her escape...what strange
thoughts I'm having... I tore my eyes away and tried my best to focus on
the chancellor.

And next thing I knew, she was heading straight for me, and as I realized
that she had been assigned to me, I felt flustered and a little afraid. Was
I to spend the next half-year in the presence of this serene individual?
Could I ever be as composed and self-definitive as her? Would she accept
me? Joelle was her name, and as we departed to our quarters I could feel
the gazes of jealous men following us. She tried very little to make
conversation as we walked, unusual for Palace Staff. She only covered the
basics, we exchanged names, ages, places of birth, and spent the rest of
the hike to our rooms in silence. I felt slightly uncomfortable with this,
but I feel absolutely positive that she did not.

Once we arrived, I suddenly realized how extremely weary I was. I barely
glanced around the rooms before I declared that I absolutely must sleep,
and sprawled on my mat in a stupor. I vaugly heard Joelle ask me if I
wanted her to brush my hair, a cusomary ritual at the palace, but all I
managed was a groan before the blackness of exhaustion snuffed me like a
candle flame.