Ishara cranes her neck out the window of her hired coach, trying to take in everything at once.

Tamor sits across from her, and refrains from rubbernecking. 

"So, Rusadhan. What's your first impression of the capitol?"

"... It's dingier than I expected. And do you have to keep calling me that?"

"Like it or not, you are a Rusadhan now. I would rather you not forget it." 

"I remember! You've only called me it a hundred times now!"

"Barely twenty. And in any case, it wouldn't do for me to call you Ishara in front of some third party. At best it would tell them I know you. At worst... Well. There is a lot of 'worst' to descend into. I would rather not give an excuse. Which is, incidentally, why you should refrain from calling Seofar's city 'dingy'."

"... I know. I'll try. But it's hard for me to stay silent when it's so obvious."

Her soul chimes softly, another fracture disappearing.

"At least your soul seems to be doing better. I wasn't expecting the damage to heal so quickly."

Ishara smiles slightly. "You know me, Tamor. Did you really expect it to take forever?"

"I still would rather you hadn't made the thing in the first place. But we aren't in that world, so we're just going to have to make do."

"Not budging on this one. It was a good idea." (Click.)

He sighs.

"You rather remind me of your mother sometimes."

"... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you."

"It's okay."

"In any case. We'll be at court soon. Remember your manners. Tekhesin Seofar."

Ishara nods.

The castle gates are huge and ornate and look like they might require magic to open and close. Currently they are open. Ceremonial guards stand to either side, there to glare the passersby away if only there were any passersby. Tekhesin Seofar's castle is not a popular tourist destination.

Inside, they are greeted by a herald, who bows very precisely and says, "Nisentiraia Rusadhan Sorvol Ishara?"

Ishara returns her own very precise bow. (Tamor is watching.) 

"Yes."

"Welcome to Tairasante. Rekhanthai Kelora has arranged a suite in the palace for you, if that is agreeable."

"Certainly."

A page is summoned to direct them to the young Rusadhan's accomodations.

The interior of the castle is a study in contrasts. Gloomy, foreboding; ostentatious, decadent. A microcosm of the city outside; if the analogy holds true, perhaps the dim and dingy sections of the castle are the parts Tekhesin Seofar never visits.

His daughter's rooms are in one of the parts without gold all over everything, and she has installed Ishara just down the hall. There is an attached room for Tamor.

Well. 

Time to settle in, she supposes. And await this mysterious Kelora.

A brief, courteous note awaits her in the message tray in her suite, inviting her to join the Rekhanthai in her quarters for an informal dinner this evening.

"Considerate of her. You will attend."

"I'm half-tempted not to after you made that a statement rather than a question. I'm a Rusadhan now, I don't have to listen to you."

"You are still twelve."

"But a Rusadhan nonetheless." 

"And do you consider it wise to decline the Rekhanthai's invitation to dinner?"

"... You're doing the thing where you deliberately try and rile me, aren't you." 

"Took you long enough. If you can't endure an order or two from your trusted servant without questioning them, what are you going to do when someone above your station has a task for you? That contrarian streak of yours is dangerous, Rusadhan."

Ishara sighs. 

"You've made your point. Yes, I'll attend the dinner."

"Wonderful. At this rate, we might actually survive the week."

"Stop chiding me and help me unpack, will you?" 

"Yes, Rusadhan."

And that evening, a servant appears to direct them to Rekhanthai Kelora's quarters, where the Rekhanthai herself is waiting, seated at a small but well-laid table.

She looks... composed. Almost unnaturally so. She looks like someone who could face fire, storm, or earthquake with exactly the same calm, watchful expression.

Ishara's first thought is: I want to be like her. 

Her soul chimes in the pocket of her dress, rather more loudly than she would have liked it to. 

"Rusadhan Ishara," she says, declining to comment on any noisy pockets. "I hope you are well. Please, sit."

Ishara bows precisely. "Rekhanthai. Thank you for extending your protection to me." 

She takes her seat, and waits for her hostess to speak.

Tamor bows, and takes up a servant's position beside his Rusadhan.

Tamor gets a slight acknowledging nod before she turns her full attention on Ishara.

Rekhanthai Zierni Kelora's full attention is a hell of a thing.

"I am glad to have been able to do so," she says. "You plan to accept my offer, then?"

Ishara nods resolutely. "I do."

She nods.

"Please let me know if there is anything further I can do to help you. I may not always be able to accomplish it, but I can try."

Ishara decides -

Click.

- hesitates -

Crack.

- winces.

Kelora waits.

Tamor does not wince, but his countenance seems somewhat more downcast somehow.

Ishara sighs, and sets her soul on the table.

I am cowardly, says her soul. I am ignorant and naive and pointlessly deceitful and a terrible liar. I am weak, I am fearful, I am alone. I am inexperienced, I am incompetent, I am only a child. I am so run through with flaws that they might shatter me. 

But these things will pass from the world, and I will remain.

"... I would prefer if you called me Althyne-leretis Ishara." 

Click.

She nods.

"Althyne-leretis Ishara," she agrees.

"... I would also appreciate tutoring in the workings of the court. Tamor is an able teacher, but somewhat lacking in personal experience."

"I can provide that," she says.

"... I think that's all I'll ask for for now. You're being quite generous as it is."

"You are in an unpleasant situation through no fault of your own, and I would like to help and protect you to the extent that it is in my power to do so," she says.

"...Do you know whether you plan to wear your soul openly or not?"

Ishara smiles slightly. "I had planned to carry it less openly, but it seems my soul has an opinion of its own on that."

"...Den-aminde Nahira will be very interested in you from the moment she first sees it. Her interest is a dangerous thing."

Ishara looks down at her hands, and makes a small humming noise.

"... I believe what my Rusadhan is attempting to communicate is that we have already received a letter from Den-aminde Nahira."

"That does not surprise me. But it was sent when she knew... less about you than your soul would tell her."

Thoughtful pause.

"Although I very strongly get the impression that there is more to know about you than your soul is telling."

Ishara smiles slightly. 

"... I think it covers the basics."

I am graceless, says her soul. I am insubordinate and ungrateful. I am self-centred and self-indulgent and pointlessly cryptic and still a terrible liar. I am oblivious, I am stubborn, I am slow to learn. I am neither a good communicator, nor as witty as I think I am. I am so run through with flaws that they might shatter me.

But these things will pass from the world: and I will remain.

"...I recommend keeping out of Nahira's way as much as is feasible. I am... limited in my ability to protect you from her. And I think she would see your soul as... an irresistibly tempting target."

"I'm not going to do anything reckless: her letter told me enough about her personality that avoiding her attention seems like a very good plan. Is there any reason I might be forced to interact with her?"

"She might decide she wants to meet you, and things that Den-aminde Nahira decides she wants tend to happen. She is... a close friend of my father's. They have similar interests."

"Well, if she decides that then there isn't much we can do. So..."

"Perhaps it's best if we avoid drawing her attention."

"The court as a whole is unlikely to find you interesting unless you make yourself interesting. Unfortunately for you, your soul is very interesting indeed."

Tamor doesn't say anything, but then he doesn't need to.

Ishara nods.

"... Do you have someplace secure enough to store a soul?"

"...Nothing I would trust absolutely, but then, it's still arguably the case that your soul would be safer in my quarters than in your pocket."

Ishara hums, and consults her soul on the matter.

It's not right for you to hide your flaws, but neither is it right for you to expose yourself to an enemy. 

So long as someone other than you can see your soul from time to time, it's alright to hide the fact you've manifested.

"... It seems my soul is alright with it, so long as I let you or Tamor see it from time to time." 

She nods.

"... Probably for the best if I put it away now, it would reduce the risk of accidents."

Tamor studiously avoids facial expressions.