Whispering Suits

A male Faerie walks over to us, his suit is a deep emerald green but it has the same suns and wands embroidered into it that Cyrus's has. He extends a hand, and for the first time since I got into the car Cyrus has a genuine smile on his face as he lets go of me and reaches out to shake hands with the approaching Faerie. “Oran! It's wonderful to see you” Cyrus says as they pull each other into a warm welcoming hug. Oran pats Cyrus on the back hard, but he doesn't seem to mind. “It's been too long, friend. Your absence has been felt. I'm glad to see you came, I wasn't certain you would considering…” he trails off as his eyes catch me, though I'm not sure if it's me or the collar around my throat that makes him trail off. “Ah, I suppose this would be your new pet?” Oran asks, and I have to remind myself not to act snarky. I timidly pull on Cyrus's arm, and look up at him doing my best impression of ‘helpless’. Cyrus wraps an arm around me and brings me closer to him, I end up pressed against his chest and I can feel his heart beat fluttering in his chest. I feel myself blushing, and hope that it's at least helpful to the ruse. Cyrus looks at his friend. “This is my companion. I would appreciate your support in introducing them to the court. They are my guest here, and I would see them treated as such”. Oran nods, dipping his head briefly in respect. “Of course, though, you'll have to deal with” “I know” Cyrus interrupts, “Don't worry. I'll speak to the King personally”. Cyrus gives Oran a look, and I can tell there is a lot being said without any words being exchanged. I take a moment to take in Oran, he isn't wearing much of a glamour probably due to the expectation that everything here already knows what he looks like. His hair is shorter than Cyrus's and is a deep earthy orange, but his eyes are what draw my attention. One eye is bright copper, similar to Cyrus, but the other is a deep verdant green. It's kind of beautiful, the way the two colours glimmer and contrast against each other. “You should make sure to greet the guests, the King won't show until the ceremony is due to begin” Oran says, his tone suggesting more than his words allow. Great, it isn't enough that I have to put on a performance as Cyrus’s little ‘pet’ but now he's going to talk to Faeries in code. I glance back towards the door, and briefly consider if I should run for it but it looks like the throng of Faeries coming in hasn't slowed down any and at this point leaving seems like it would draw unwanted attention. “Of course,” Cyrus says, catching my attention “come on, Indy, let's take a turn of the room”. He wraps my arm back around his and grips it tight. He leads me towards a new group, and I notice Oran follows us close behind. Is he Cyrus’s body guard, or is he just following us as a friend, it's hard to tell. We make our way through the dotted groups, Cyrus spends almost exactly the same amount of time on each Faerie and I quickly catch on to the pattern. He opens with a polite ‘it’s great to see you, been too long’, then the Faeries give their own platitudes about how good it is to be here, they talk about nothing important until he finds a way to naturally introduce me as his companion, always using the name Indy, and then he says ‘it’s been a pleasure, but I should be moving on’. We repeat the cycle over for each group we talk to, and I quickly learn my cues of clinging onto him, tilting my head and neck just right to show off his collar on my neck, and speaking in a simpering voice whenever pushed to respond to a question. We eventually move out of the first room and into another, then another, each room seems more decadent, with fine furnishings and trays of food and drink whizzing past us. I feel my stomach rumble at one point, but power on. I can't let something as tiny as a hunger pang distract me from the task at hand. Cyrus seems to be settling into the role well, by the third room if Faeries, he almost seems to have blended the stiff ‘Summer Court's Cyrus with the version I've seen during our lessons. Occasionally, he'll laugh or smile or say something and he's back to his cocky confident self. But, then someone will mention the King and he'll go cold, he'll stand too straight, laugh too sharply. It's like he's walking the razor's edge between who they expect him to be, and who he wants to be. I wish I could ask why he can't just be himself, but I know it wouldn't be a simple question to answer. And anyway, who am I to judge, I'm not exactly being true to myself right now. The suit Cyrus bought me is clearly doing it's job, I fit into the crowd, but it's not what I'd choose to wear. It's not me. And I'm not going to get started on the collar. Although, the amber gemstone is beautiful. I hear a commotion coming from one of the rooms ahead and Cyrus pulls me tight. He excuses himself from the conversation we were having and walks towards the sound. I want to protest but his brow is furrowed and I can tell that something unusual is happening. We enter the next room and there is a Faerie on the floor, she is wearing a strange dress that looks like it's made from petals. She must be a flower Faerie. Her green skin is pale, though I'm not sure how I can tell, I just know in my gut that it's wrong. Her bright pink hair has gone limp, and she's trying to move but can't seem to get up from the floor. Her eyes are darting around, and they find Cyrus. “Help me, please” she cries at him, her voice is like a thousand tiny bells ringing all at once. Cyrus gives me a look that says ‘stay’, and I don't protest as he lets go of me and kneels by the Faerie. He places a hand tentatively against her forehead, then gently takes one of her shaking hands. He gently rubs her hand, and I can see small patches of green skin flake off as he does so. Cyrus places her hand back down, and sighs. “There is nothing I can do, dear one, your time has come. Be not afraid, for in death we are all reunited with The Mother. Rest at ease knowing you will be with your sisters soon”. He stands, and looks at several nearby Faeries. “Stay with her, make her as comfortable as possible and keep this area clear until she has faded.” His tone is severe, but not harsh. The Faeries around us respond, one sits with the Faerie on the floor, taking her hand and wrapping their free arm around her shoulder. Another makes space around them, creating a way for the remaining Faeries to walk around her without disruption. A third brings a glass of golden liquid over, Cyrus takes the glass and kisses it. There is a small spark where his lips meet the glass, and I'm genuinely mesmerised by the look on his face, it's so serene, so soft. The liquid turns from a honey gold to a deep red. He kneels again, handing the cup to the Faerie on the floor. “I give you this blessing, that your passing may be peaceful and swift”. With that, he stands and turns to face me. “Let's go,” he says, not giving me a chance to react. He pulls me towards a staircase that I'm certain wasn't there before, we would have walked past it at least twice but I’m sure it wasn't there until Cyrus started to lead me towards it. As we walk up the stairs, the sounds of the Faeries talking grows quieter. There are more corridors and rooms on the next floor, but Cyrus leads me straight to the end of the corridor and into a brightly lit room. I blink hit by the perfume of flowers, and the warmth in this room surpasses anything I've felt in this house so far. It's a greenhouse, indoors. There are plants here that I've only ever seen in my dreams, and it smells like a mix of earth and sweetness unlike anything I could ever describe. And the light, it's like someone trapped a tiny sun in this one room, and I can't help but close my eyes and stretch out my arms to enjoy the warmth of the light as it hits my skin. It's like I've stepped into my own personal perfect oasis. I'm almost lost in the moment when I hear the sound of crying behind me, and turn to see Cyrus slumped against the door his eyes full of tears.