Chapter Text
A disturbing rustle can be heard by her bedroom window. A folded piece of paper was being pushed through the slits, the whole frame grinding from the effort. The famous Lady of Faces watched with annoyed disapprobation as her new messenger struggled to fulfill his so-called covert duty. She prefers her old one, but her father, the River Lord, informed her that while she's been away to Sepul, he's been assigned to a different type of work on his behalf.
"Could you be any more discreet? My neighbors are not woken enough," she commented behind the walls with sharp sarcasm as the hideous trial dragged on. If only he had the mind to fold it once, he would have struggled less.
The inexperienced courier had informed her by writing that Her Beloved Highness had snuck out on her own again, carrying with her a strange box.
This made her smile.
Immediately, Nikeya started dressing herself appropriately for a 'late night walk.'
After a dash of apricot scent at the sharp of her collarbones, she went out with knowledge of where to 'coincidentally' intercept the stealthy Crown Princess.
At some corner within the palace, they ran into each other.
"Princess, what a surprise."
"Good evening," Dumai bid her a curt and a cool goodbye. As she urgently moved past her, she smelled something fragrant emanating from her mysterious baggage. The scent left a sweet, talc-like wake within her breathing faculties which somehow reminded her of early morning bread in the market.
Determined to make the most out of tonight's opportunity, after a deep breath, she went after the Noziken heir, "What is Her Highness doing outside of her chambers without any guards or servants during ungodly hours?"
"I could ask you the same, but I won't since I'm respectful enough to know that it's no business of mine."
Fully aware of her impertinence, Nikeya still pushed on, "Whatever it is, I will take it as my duty to assist you since you are without servants. You are safe within these walls, Princess, but you will need me as your guide against or for," she gestured at her suspicious package, "unpleasant, nightly activities committed in the shadows."
Whether the Princess liked it or not, what Nikeya said was true. The River Lord has spies everywhere, regardless of the time of day. Someone is sure to be monitoring them from a distance. It only takes one misstep on the part of any Noziken for the River Lord to gather a small piece of intelligence that can be spun into a massive weapon of character assassination.
Even so, a layer of protection is provided to an unappreciative Dumai if she is with the River Lord's daughter. It will put his agents at ease, as they would not want to interrupt or spoil any of her undertakings. Of course, she is to report to him about her results or findings, but this way, she can control the flow of information that reaches him. She will delay his success as much as she can, not until she fulfills her own first, that is, to discover whether the famed dragon rider is a worthy ruler of their island.
Dumai kept walking, as if time constrained. In a few, they landed themselves in the kitchen, where Juri, the Princess' youngest handmaiden, welcomed them.
"Your Highness, I have had the fire started in the stone room."
"Thank you, Juri," Dumai gratefully nodded, immediately putting out the contents of her box at the broad worktable. It was all eggs, butter, milk, and all sorts of fragrant items used for baking.
"I will go ahead and get started with the bucket." Her master asked Juri to return to her once her task was done. She acknowledged Nikeya's presence with a nod before leaving.
"Bucket?" Not that well-versed in these areas, Nikeya could not mentally picture the connection.
At the very least, she was able to confirm an initial observation as she watched Dumai pour and sift some powdered items in a strainer, "Your Highness, it's interesting to learn that you know how to bake."
"Nikeya, why can't you leave me be? Don't you have to be somewhere useful?" She said this in a drawn-out way, too busy hurriedly peeling half a dozen bananas to put an emphasizing shape in her tone.
"I can make myself useful now. What are you looking for?" she offered. It is still beyond her understanding what her hurry is for, but she dared not ask just yet.
After opening and closing a couple of cupboards, Dumai, defeated and impatient at whatever it is that she has failed to search for, acquired the nearest wooden spoon to improvise as a masher for her bananas and chunks of pineapple.
"Here," Nikeya produced her needed equipment from one of the drawers at the other end of the room.
Dumai paused her work to give her a solid look—the first of that night. They held each other's gaze, wordless, a rich battlefield of internal conflicts visible in the former godsinger's eyes.
To her delight, Dumai, despite herself, had decidedly set aside her pride, not to mention her makeshift masher, to accept the help she had provided. With the correct utensil, she was able to achieve the correct consistency of her flavoring agents.
How good it was to have such a sharp mind. Nikeya has been in these parts long enough to know a few things. She had never imagined the day such a trivial detail would be turned into an advantage.
Pleased to have earned her stay, she decided to remain clear of the Princess' way, only serving as a respectful, admiring spectator, opposite her at the other end of the table. The completion of her secret project tonight must mean a great, personal significance that she was willing to set aside her stubborn indifference towards a declared enemy.
However, her internal celebration stopped short when she saw her start crushing some walnuts.
Her mind darted back to the dresses and trinkets she brought out earlier to mix and match for an upcoming occasion. It was the unfinished business she had left in her chamber before leaving to discover what Dumai was up to. With these images before her, a horrifying truth clicked inside her mind, "Wait, is this for Suzu?"
Refusing to be ignored, Nikeya stood up from her seat and urgently reached a hand to stop Dumai from pouring the crushed article into the main bowl. "Are you trying to assassinate my cousin on her birthday?"
"What?" Dumai reacted, irritated at her show-stopping words and hand. "Nikeya, I don't have time for your games."
"Didn't Juri inform you that she's allergic to nuts?"
Dumai put her work down with a measured thud and properly scrutinized her expression. With a crumpled brow, she asked, "Is this true?"
"Yes," she firmly confirmed in disbelief.
"You better be not lying, Nikeya," she reinforced with a threatening note.
"Do not give this to her," she dragged the remaining walnuts towards her. She returned to her seat and started munching on them. Nikeya resumed a sportive mood, bordering smug to be of service once again.
"Fine. It will still do without the walnuts. I hope you will not dangle this achievement in front of me for the rest of my life here," she disappeared towards the fire room, expertly balancing in her grasp three filled pans of liquid cake. She returned a few minutes after to work on, what seemed like, the coating batter.
During her brief absence, she had the opportunity to appreciate their present surroundings. During the day, the kitchen is festive, filled with heat and noise and laughing and chattering workers. She would stay there sometimes, not as part of the labor force, but to trade stories and gossip while people toil their day away. At night, with no rays to fill its dark corners, no laughter, and busybodies to brighten its grim stone walls, it was cold and silent as a well-kept graveyard. The only living element, if not the crickets outside, would be the enchanting chime of hanging pots and dishes and tankards whenever the winds caress them by.
"Princess, do you believe in ghosts?" A hand cupping her face, her eyes wandered around their quiet enclosure, "They say these parts are hunted."
Dumai threw her a look. Nonetheless, the former godsinger indulged her, "Ghosts exist in a lot of stories, but I have yet to see one in the flesh."
"Have you heard of the ghost of the tooth lady?"
Dumai threw her another look, the fire from the torch flickering in her eyes, "No."
"I'll tell you then." Nikeya proceeded, "You might have observed an old persimmon tree just right outside of us. They say, that if you see a white monkey beneath its shade, do not attempt to go near it or talk to it, for it has the ability of speech, just in case it beckons you to approach."
Dumai was busy zesting a lemon, but Nikeya could tell that she was listening, "Of course, in any age, in any era, people didn't know any better." A lamenting pause then, "'The tooth lady will be coming, so show her this.' In its hand lay a single molar tooth from a human. You must take the tooth and bury it in your backyard, the white beast will instruct. If you do as instructed, the ghost will still pay you a visit in the form of an old lady with its eye sockets and mouth black and sunken, but will leave you unharmed, and no misfortune will befall your loved ones."
Her lone audience straightened up with a sigh, before fetching herself a mixing paddle. "Out of fear or indifference to the tale, people forget or dispose of the tooth."
Before she can continue her story any further, Dumai asks, "Do you believe in ghosts?"
Nikeya only shrugged and gave an honest answer, "I have yet to see one in the flesh too."
For a second, Dumai abandoned her batter and was busy looking for something in the clutter of things. Her eyes darted from her worktable and then to the cupboards and shelves. While searching, something caught her eye at some corner, which turned her expression blank. It stayed rooted there, her present endeavors forgotten.
"What?" Nikeya, puzzled by the sudden change of expression, looked behind her, the continuance of her ghost story abandoned. She saw nothing in the corner but dust and dancing shadows. When she reverted, she found Dumai mixing again as if nothing happened. "Did you just—," Her words faded to a disbelieving scoff. Appalled that she would pull such a childish stunt on her, she successfully confronted her after a second try, "Did you just make an attempt to spook me?"
Resorting to an antiquated response from a playbook that Nikeya knows very well, Dumai turned her back on her, increasing the intensity of her mixing, "I did not."
"Yes, you did." She received no more rebuttal but only more scraping sounds from her bowl. "In fact," she readily took off from her stool to deal with her evasions upfront, "I will take it upon myself to see if you truly did."
But Dumai never let her. She started towards the fire room, adapting that same hasteful, purposeful energy she had been since the start of their meeting.
Nikeya felt her face glowed, beguiled and vexed at the same time. She cried out after her, "Where are you going?"
It's been almost half an hour since her last entry to the ovens.
Following Dumai to the warm room, her hands covered in towels, Nikeya saw her already on the way out with two pans. The fragrance blessed the atmosphere with a heavenly smell. "Can you help me transfer the other one out?"
Nikeya, eager and distracted to get to her, scooped up the pan directly with her naked hand. She felt and heard the flesh in her fingers sizzling upon the searing pain inflicted. A cry of pain had escaped her.
Alarmed, Dumai turned, still with both pans in hand, "What happened?"
"It's a bit late for me to ask but," holding her own injured hand, she said, embarrassed, "have you got any more towels?"
"Leave it. Get yourself here."
The Princess instructed to get the affected area immersed in running water. Somewhere out of Nikeya's sight, Dumai kept working, transferring the cakes to new plates to cool.
Once done with her first aid, Nikeya was surprised to see her companion unwrapping some bandages. She asked, "Which?"
Nikeya offered, "The fingers. Where did you get those?"
While Dumai busily wrapped each swollen finger with care, now that they were facing each other, Nikeya took the opportunity to ask her curious questions, "Suzu's birthday is not even tomorrow. Why hurry in making this now? Why in the middle of the night?"
Dumai gave her a look, before answering, "I wanted to surprise her, give it to her in advance tomorrow. I want to get a head start because I'm sure a lot of other things will be excessively served on the day itself."
"That's very sweet of you," then, before she could help it, Nikeya asked, "Can you make me one too on my birthday?"
Dumai snorted at her bold request. "No. But when is your birthday?"
"The third of spring. Come to think of it, we might be overseas in the Twelve Lakes until then."
"Possibly."
Just as she finished, Juri entered the room once again. Her presence interrupted them, "The bucket is ready, Your Highness."
Their encounter forgotten, the Princess returned to her worktable, "Can you aid me with the frosting? I'm almost done here."
They needed the frosting to cool, Nikeya thought, finally understanding what the bucket was for. "By any means, the bucket that you're referring to, Juri, is it the ones I have seen out front with the copper handles?"
"Yes," the handmaiden confirmed, circling the table to help the Princess bend over her remaining work.
Since Dumai's attention is no longer hers to monopolize, she volunteered to resign the night, "I believe I must go. It's getting a bit late for me."
Dumai only grunted in agreement, but Juri did respond to her kindly, "Have a great rest, Lady Nikeya."
---
The next morning, Dumai would be furious to know that her planned celebration would not push through. She will find her cake missing from the ice container.
Once Nikeya found out from one of her own spies that it was missing, she made sure to be out of the palace under the excuse of making some last-minute purchases for Suzu's festive name day celebration. She would hate to be blamed again and offer excuses to cover for her wicked father after the dead sorrower stint that he pulled on the Maiden Officiant.
Nonetheless, on the day itself, the Crown Princess still had the best gift out of all people in Seiiki. It made Nikeya feel tenderly jealous when Dumai publicly asked the youngest Noziken, "Dear sister, how would you like to fly?"