Chapter Text
A knock on the door startled Evanelia from her reading.
She set down the dataslate of ship itinerary analyses on the vanity, frowning as she glanced towards the outer room. Had she really gotten so deeply immersed in such a tedious report that she lost track of time? It felt as if she’d only just sent for Cassia.
“Come in,” she called out. She attached her earring back while she waited. It was a simple thing, a flower carved of unassuming gray stones, but when she turned her head, the stones caught the light and lit up with flashes of iridescent color like tiny auroras.
Evanelia heard the outer door open and close, then a long pause.
“I’m in here,” she said loudly towards the other room as she put in the other earring.
Though it was hard to tell with the sound muffled by so much carpeting, she thought the footfalls sounded a little too heavy to be Cassia’s. Her doubt solidified as the visitor rapped softly on the door — which she’d left slightly ajar — without opening it any further.
“May I come in?”
Heinrix.
Silly, how little it took to disarm her. Just the sound of his voice was enough to make her heart skip a beat.
“Yes, of course, come in.”
Evanelia watched him enter via the reflection in the mirror, as though by looking at him indirectly it might be easier not to make a fool of herself, or get lost trying to figure out how long was an appropriate amount of time to stare into his eyes.
Even with a direct invitation, Heinrix kept his eyes carefully averted as he entered, as if he was waiting for a startled scream of offended modesty. He only lifted his gaze to hers when she turned to address him, her skirts rustling audibly.
“Heinrix, what a pleasant surprise,” she said. “I just sent for Lady Cassia. She should be here shortly. Will you be joining us tonight?”
“No, I’m afraid not.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, fidgeting with gloves he had yet to put on. “I came to inform you that I will be away for the evening. No more than a shuttle ride, but away nevertheless. I need to pass along my full report about what transpired during the attack.”
Her brow furrowed. “The Lord Inquisitor doesn’t know already?”
“I sent a short message in the immediate aftermath. But now that the situation has settled, he will want details.”
“Sensible.” Evanelia opened the velvet box housing her necklace and carefully extracted it. “And impressive,” she added, tilting her head curiously. “How does he manage to send and receive messages so quickly, with his acolytes scattered all throughout the Expanse and Astropathic communications in disarray?”
At that, a familiar expression of disapproval spread across Heinrix’s features — almost playfully stern, as if he objected more to her lack of subtlety than to her thirst for information.
She shot him a wry smile. “Right. Inquisition secrets, of course.” She began fiddling with the necklace’s clasp, trying to get it open and keep it that way long enough to hook it into place. “Well, I assume that, however you communicate with each other, it can’t be put off till tomorrow?” She grimaced as she fumbled the clasp.
Heinrix took far longer to answer than she expected. “Not without wasting Inquisition resources,” he said finally. She thought he heard regret in his voice.
Evanelia busied herself with another attempt at the necklace before she could delude herself further. “That’s a shame.” She hissed as the clasp slipped from her fingertips again, just as she got it into position around her neck. “Blast it,” she muttered, catching the necklace before it slid down her dress, “I’m terrible with these.”
With her attention elsewhere, she didn’t notice Heinrix moving until she heard his voice, much closer than it had been before.
“May I?”
She grimaced apologetically. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
By the time her mind caught up with her mouth and she realized what she had agreed to — what his help would entail, how close he would be, the line of sight he would have on her décolletage — it was too late to demur. She settled for sitting very still, praying that his biomantic abilities wouldn’t betray how hard her heart was pounding… and hoping that if he did look down he wouldn’t think she was throwing herself at him with her tits out in some ploy to get his attention or make him uncomfortable.
Heinrix drew close enough that she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her back. He gently lifted a few loose curls from her neck and swept them over her shoulder, then took the ends of the necklace from her. Evanelia was keenly aware of his fingertips grazing her skin. She was also painfully conscious of her own breathing. She had to force herself not to close her eyes and inhale deeply to memorize the scent that lingered on Heinrix’s clothing; and when she exhaled, she did so silently, for fear he might hear its tremble.
She remembered that night in the warp, when daemons had invaded her chambers, and after she had let herself lean against Heinrix’s side. Even without the plausible deniability of exhaustion, she was sorely tempted to do it again. It would be so easy to sink back against him, to melt into his solid frame…
Heinrix’s knuckles brushed against her skin as he closed the necklace. He adjusted its placement slightly, then stepped back. Evanelia snuck a glance at his face in the mirror as he stepped away. He did not look scandalized or repelled, at the very least.
“Thank you,” she said. Then she rose carefully, smoothing out her dress. She turned and cleared her throat. “Well…”
“I—“
They both trailed off, stumbling over each other’s words. Heinrix looked like he might have been on the verge of saying something else when a resounding knock from the next room interrupted.
Cassia.
Evanelia stepped out of her bedchamber and into the study. “Come in!”
The large door opened to reveal a timid Cassia: her hair woven up into an ornate diadem that concealed her third eye, her tall, slim form draped in fluid lavender silks that flashed pink in the light.
Evanelia gasped, beaming. “Oh, you look beautiful,” she exclaimed, hurrying towards Cassia. She gestured in a circle. “Spin, let me see how the light catches it.”
Cassia twirled around — once, then a second time, her face splitting into a brilliant smile as she giggled delightedly. Evanelia noticed with a pang of nostalgia that when Cassia smiled, there was something very like Beatrix in the shape of her eyes and the way they crinkled when she smiled.
Evanelia embraced Cassia as she ceased spinning. “I knew the shot silk would look wonderful on you.”
Cassia lowered her eyes bashfully, though her smile didn’t fade. “You’re too kind, Lord Captain.” She turned to Heinrix, still glowing. “Will you be joining us, Master van Calox?” she asked brightly.
“Not tonight, Lady Cassia. I am needed elsewhere. My duty to the Inquisition comes first.”
There it was again, a tinge of something in his voice Evanelia could have sworn was regret.
Cassia’s mouth twisted with a disappointed pout, but she accepted his answer with a polite curtsy.
Heinrix bowed and kissed the air just above the Navigator’s hand. “It is a splendid dress, and you do look lovely.” Then he straightened and turned to Evanelia.
He seemed to falter for a moment, struggling with some thought or expression that remained inscrutable.
“Both of you,” he said, in a lower, softer voice.
Evanelia proffered her hand with a slight incline of her head. For what must have been the thousandth time since inheriting the warrant, she felt a surge of gratitude that her parents and tutors had drilled the muscle memory of polite, formal interactions into her. Without it, she feared she might have reached out too eagerly in anticipation. Or perhaps the warm, fizzy feeling that followed the touch of Heinrix’s lips to her knuckles might have wiped all conscious thought from her mind and left her unable to do anything but stare at him slack-jawed.
As it was, her manners were sufficiently rehearsed that they came to her easily, even in the sudden absence of cognition.
“Safe travels, Master van Calox,” she said as he straightened and released her hand.
“Thank you, Lord Captain. Lady Cassia.” With a crisp turn, Heinrix left the room, closing the study door behind him.
Evanelia turned to find Cassia staring at her wide-eyed, looking like the cat that ate the canary.
The meeting point was only a short distance from the Von Valancius palace, but Heinrix couldn’t risk taking a direct shuttle. The safest option to transfer to a less noticeable craft was a supply depot that was twice again as far from the palace. He took the safe option. Unfortunately that safety came with plenty of time to think: he had to fly to the supply depot, lay a false trail there to lose any tails, don an outer coat that hid his uniform, signal one of the workers to let him slip aboard a supply shuttle, then fly back in the direction he’d just come from. All the while, his mind played out every possible fault Xavier might find with him when the eventually received the report — every time he had fallen short of perfection, every flicker of doubt, every hour he’d spent idle in Evanelia’s company, every second away from her company he’d let his mind wander back to her…
Even now, it threatened to wander back. When Evanelia had asked if there was any way he could defer his meeting, he’d nearly done it. Only years of habit held him back from the brink of throwing sense and duty to the wind. The vision of joining her was intoxicating. For a moment he’d imagined a life where he’d never been touched by the warp, never left Guisorn III, never become a maimed freak. A life where he was just a noble or a Knight Pilot, gallantly offering a lady his arm, sneaking glances at her profile as he escorted her to some extravagant place that was nothing more than a backdrop for her beauty. Perhaps in this other life, she might even deign to look back at him with desire. Foolish, to even dream of such a thing. But if she did… Even a saint would have been tempted to say 'to the void with it' and skip the formal event entirely.
He’d told her she looked ‘lovely.’ A ridiculous understatement. But Heinrix could hardly do his feelings justice in polite company, least of all when that polite company was a sweet girl he had no intention of slighting.
Not that he was sure Cassia would have taken it as a slight. As he pulled away from kissing Evanelia’s hand, the navigator made fleeting eye contact with him. Her ruby eyes were hard to read, but he did not see jealousy or bitterness there — only a knowing gleam tinged with schoolgirl delight at being privy to a secret. She had seen his transgression against etiquette, and she knew exactly what it meant.
A series of staccato thumps against the wall of his compartment tore him from his thoughts. That was the signal he had reached his destination.
Heinrix rose to his feet between crates of grain, slipped into the corridor, and waited for an opportunity to disembark unseen. When he had emerged from the ship (and the kitchens’ receiving area), he found that he had arrived at an airy villa.
He roamed the halls, deliberately exuding contempt. Almost without thinking about it, he deepened the lines at the corners of his nose, subtly sculpting his flesh to exaggerate the shadows cast by his sneer. If anyone not read in on Inquisition matters should notice him, he would need to pass for a noble. An imperious one. One that petty servants wouldn’t dare ask questions of. If anyone scurried away a little faster because of the chill in the air, so much the better. It would be kinder than the alternative.
He did not have to inhabit the role for very long before he discovered the landmarks mentioned in the Inquisition message. He glanced briefly up and down the hall to ensure he was alone, then pressed the end of his rosette to the wall and listened for the soft clicks of the authentication protocol.
After a moment, he heard an inner mechanism unlatch. He pushed the door open and closed it behind him deftly before anyone could see. Then, when he heard the locks turn back into place, he looked around at where he had found himself.
It seemed there was an entire separate wing of the villa, hidden from common view. At the far end of the hall he spotted a large, arched doorway, leading to a room with an ornate desk. He made his way towards the chamber.
His destination appeared to be a dimly lit room connected to two others by more arches, both of them veiled in shadow. As he crossed the threshold, he noticed a familiar dark-haired woman in armor standing by the fireplace as it burned low.
He stopped short. “Aishara. I didn’t think the Lord Inquisitor would send an acolyte to act as a simple courier.”
Aishara’s mouth did not open; it merely curled into a smirk, as she waited expectantly for another to answer.
“I didn’t.”
Heinrix did not have to turn to know who had spoken. He did nevertheless, as a mark of respect.
Xavier Calcazar emerged from an adjoining room, as imposing a figure as ever in his power armor.