A note from DoubleBlind: I'm doing one final push to get the rest of Everyone's a Catgirl! Volume 4 taken care of! I started a gofundme, and all support is immensely appreciated! Thank you so much for taking the time to check it out! ---Chapter 261: The Empress's Engagement There were many days when restoring Rājadhānī seemed impossible, let alone healing Ichi Island of the many wounds inflicted by Magni. And there were only so many hands and eyes that Naeemah could employ to assist her. While volunteers were readily available in the capital city, repairing the smaller towns was a slow and grueling prcocess. The denizens of Ichi Island fell on two sides of the coin. One collective feared the guards Naeemah sent out to maintain the fragile peace among them. The other sought blood in return for the Ejderha’s transgressions. Destroying the cages proved difficult, as the latter among them demanded they be used to imprison the remaining Ejderha. And the citadel… The citadel was still draped in Magni’s influence. Hundreds of golden dragon statues remained unmelted, expensive suits of armor and a plethora of weapons untouched. While all would eventually fetch a high price, moving them all through the reestablished trade line was a tedious process. Aliye, Sheila, and Pari had made good on their word, reporting back to Naeemah and requesting more to trade in a timely manner, but their merchandise was heavy, and they could only repurpose so much at a time. Which also left the matter of the Encroachers in the training grounds. Naeemah stood beneath the awning’s shade at the opening to the fields. Jeenie tended to each cage with purpose but was kind and considerate in her movements. Even when she interacted with long-fanged beasts and Encroachers with poison-tipped spines, she had a caring word and a soft touch to spare. When Naeemah had first commanded they be returned to their homes, Jeenie hadn’t taken it well. Perhaps it was short-sighted of me to wish. Krethik had always warned her about acting on impulse. The desire to see his will restored to the island was, at times, overwhelming. Or is it my will? “Good morning, my lady,” Jeenie said, jogging up to meet Naeemah with a deep bow. “My apologies, I didn’t see you there.” Something in Jeenie’s laggard gait and stilted bow caught Naeemah’s eye. Her gaze traveled down the woman’s white dress before settling on the gentle protrusion of her stomach. Naeemah’s eyebrow raised in surprise before she could stop it. Jeenie caught Naeemah’s stare, and a deep blush tinted her tan face. “I-I… Well, Matt—” she stammered, embracing her midsection. Her tail flicked side to side in panic, and her ears flattened against her head. “We, uh, we just—” Naeemah raised a hand. It was none of her business, even if she disagreed with Jeenie’s choice. “Are you certain that it is wise for you to work?” At that, Jeenie snapped straight to attention. “I feel perfectly fine, my lady. Better than ever.” A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Just one more little one to take care of. But she’ll be able to help me with the Encroachers.” “That’s why I’m here.” Naeemah rested her arm at her side. “I’ve had ample time to consider your advice. You were correct. Returning them home was not the answer.” Jeenie beamed and exhaled so deeply that her shoulders slumped. “Thank you, your majesty. They’re like family to me.” Naeemah nodded. “I can see that. However, there must be a better way for us to keep them. These cages seem too small.” “That’s something I’ve thought about for a long time.” Jeenie clapped her hands to her chest, and her ears perked. “I have some suggestions if you’d like to hear them.” “Yes. Please.” “Magni built so many extensions off of the castle. This one, the dueling grounds, a meeting plaza. I’ve wandered a bit, and it doesn’t seem like any of them are used anymore.” “You would be correct. Most of the additions that he made are superfluous.” “Then let’s turn some of them into habitable areas for these guys.” Jeenie motioned behind her. “We can dig water holes, plant more trees, and build gates from some of the metal I see you all melting down all the time.” “Golden cages?” Naeemah wrinkled her nose. She was working day and night to remove them, not add more. Not even for Encroachers. “No, none of that. Just iron, copper, or anything you have left over would be just fine. And we don’t need full cages, just gates to separate off territories.” Jeenie’s grin grew, and she glanced over her shoulder. “I promise not to put the ones that’ll eat each other side by side.” “And you believe it will be enough? The Encroachers will not escape?” Visions of the pair of sitherslisks breaking through the door and sinking their dozen razor-sharp teeth into the castle’s servants plagued Naeemah’s mind. “They don’t want to.” Jeenie shrugged. “In here, they have food, water, shelter. They could be much happier right now, but they still trust me.” “Um, excuse me? Your Highness?” A kitten stepped into the sunlight and quickly bowed her head. Naeemah had only ever heard her referred to as ‘Pebbles.’ Whether that was her real name remained to be seen. “Yes?” “There’s someone here to see you.” Pebbles scratched behind her ear, flicking a tiny bug from her unruly black and orange hair. “Mama— erm, I mean, Mother told me to come find you. I think it’s important.” “Thank you, Pebbles,” Naeemah said. Jeenie smirked, but the child grinned wide. “Of course, my lady.” She turned heel and vanished back into the castle. “Think about rehousing the Encroachers, my lady. If we’re going to keep them here, they deserve better.” Jeenie touched Naeemah’s shoulder. “You’ve done as much for the rest of us.” “That is kind of you to say, thank you.” It was a relief that someone noticed her work. “I will return soon.” “Great. And, um, don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” Jeenie touched her stomach, then licked her lips. “If, um, if you hear from him… Tell Matt I said ‘Hello.’” She lowered her eyes and toyed with her hair. “And he should come visit sometime.” Naeemah blinked and swallowed her initial response. “Of course. Thank you, Jeenie.” A blend of not wanting to hear any more of Jeenie’s exploits with Matt and the anxiety of an awaiting guest hastened her steps in returning to the citadel’s main hall. But she was not expecting the person who awaited her. A straight-backed woman stood stalwart at the center of the room, wearing resplendent white robes embroidered with golden thread. More than a dozen tiny sapphires sparkled in the curled tendrils of her dark hair. Piercing blue eyes the color of a cloudless sky peered through the golden mask of Saoirse’s aspect. “Your grace,” Naeemah doubled her steps down the dais and fell to one knee. “To what do I owe the honor?” “Naeemah, please rise,” Saoirse’s prophet said. She raised her arms and opened her hands so that her palms faced the ceiling. “Saoirse blesses you this day. Truly, it is my pleasure to be here.” Naeemah stood, searching the filigreed mask in search of a piece to focus on that wasn’t the prophet’s gaze. It was disrespectful to raise your eyes above a Prophet of Saoirse’s chin, but her eyes seemed to glow. It was uncanny. “How may I be of assistance?” “I mean not to interrupt your duties, Lady Naeemah. I was dispatched to your city when one of our order reported the results of Magni and Cailu’s duel to Queen Nehalennia. It is my task to ensure that all was carried out accordingly.” There were rules, both written and unspoken, commanding a prophet’s authority and the consequences of questioning Saoirse’s chosen. But that did not stop Naeemah’s curiosity from burning words into her tongue. “May I ask how?” A slow smile spread across the prophet’s lips, though it never seemed to reach her eyes. Her white teeth glittered in the lamplight, and she clasped her hands against her robe. “While it is not in my interest to share that information, your understanding in this matter is appreciated. I have already collected a vast amount of information from the residents of Rājadhānī, and my investigation will end with a simple sweep of the castle. I assure you, it will take very little time.” The smile on her face was more than amusement. It was a warning not to question her further. Will Cailu be tried? That wasn’t for Naeemah to know, but the thought needled her heart. “As you wish, your grace.” She moved aside and returned the small nod of understanding from the prophet. Naeemah would not stand in her way. For the next hour, Naeemah did her best to keep her mind and hands busy. But she found herself falling back into the hard-won habits of an [Assassin]. While changing into [Combat Mode] would likely see her arrested, she could still silently follow the prophet from a safe distance through the castle. No one knew its corridors and dark corners as well as she. The prophet asked a few questions of the servants of the citadel before calling on Svarga. Curious. Svarga led the prophet to Magni’s bookkeeping room, where they seemed to spend the most amount of time. Their conversation was low and quiet—too hushed for Naeemah to hear, which was unusual. Svarga left the prophet on her own, closing the door behind her before marching straight to where Naeemah stood in the shadows. Naeemah’s eyes widened, but Svarga placed a finger to her lips and gestured for them to return to the main hall. “Did she know that I—” Naeemah began. Her face began to flush with panic. “No, my lady. But you are not the only one who enjoys secretly having their ears to the walls.” Svarga smiled wryly. Naeemah closed her eyes and breathed deep. “Why is she here?” “A duel between men is unprecedented.” Svarga shrugged. “In perfect honesty, I expected the queen herself to appear in our halls. There are a number of codes and laws to be followed in situations such as these.” “Hm.” Naeemah considered her explanation. It made sense. A Prophet of Saoirse would be the second best person to investigate matters beyond the queen. Perhaps I am acting out of line. If Cailu needed a trial he would have written, or in dire circumstances he would have sent Matt or Tristan to tell her. Wouldn’t he? “Ah, you are both here. Very good.” The prophet appeared in the main hall once again, wearing the same sharp smile. “I am finished with my research. Thank you for your time and understanding in this matter.” “Your grace, you must have traveled very far. You are welcome to rest and regather your strength here if you so wish,” Naeemah offered. “While your kindness is noted and appreciated, that will not be necessary.” The prophet raised both hands and muttered a quiet incantation. As the white portal split the air, Naeemah noticed a worn leather tome in the prophet’s hand. “I shall be in contact should I require anything else.” “Your grace—” Naeemah moved to stop her. The Prophet of Saoirse stepped through the portal and vanished.
A note from DoubleBlind: A huge thank you to my new Patron, Janna Shi Island’s Fury! ---Chapter 262: The Devil in the Details Yanni’s sandals clicked and clacked along one of the smooth roads of Zhuli, hands clasped in front of her. She’d elected to stay in the back, where she could keep a close watch on Ravyn and Tristan, as well as the others in his Party. “Thank you for showing us around,” Tristan said, glancing over his shoulder. His smile was so pure and unassuming. There was a sparkle in his expression, a joy in his tone; even his body language was warm and welcoming. Lots of gestures, all very expressive. “You are most welcome. It is the least I could do for both Mistress Emberlynn and her daughter,” Yanni bowed at the neck. “Living here must be like living in a dream,” Destiny remarked, her hand clasped in Tristan’s. Yanni watched the exchange for some time, curious that neither one of them was eager or in any hurry to let go. Such exchanges were rare, generally only seen amongst family members or close friends. What was most interesting, however, was how bashful the one named Destiny acted the entire time. Pink cheeks, sweet tones, and stolen glances. “The air is so crisp and clean and wonderful. Nothing at all like Shulan.” “Maya and I used to soar down these ramps when we were kittens,” Ravyn snickered. Her familiar was perched on her shoulder, squinting his eyes and making noises that resembled whining rope when stretched too far. “The wind feels great in your hair.” Despite Ravyn’s protests to explore Zhuli and her apparent dislike for her mother’s very existence, she smiled and carried an air of longing about her. Yanni had seen that expression countless times. It was usually carried by those returning from long journeys to the other islands or those who came from supply runs to Shulan. “And you survived,” Lara said with amazement. “We weren’t fucking stupid,” Ravyn said with a roll of her eyes. “We made sure the brakes worked.” “You have bicycles?” Tristan asked. Ravyn sneered. “No. And the carts don’t have brakes, either.” Yanni heard Lara whisper to Destiny, “What’s a bicycle?” Yanni wondered how Ravyn and Maya survived in one piece if the intent was to break the cart at the end of the ramp. The only option otherwise would be for either of the young girls to stop the cart with their bodies. Perhaps ‘breaking’ referred to this practice. She noted Ravyn’s curious story for later. “The village looked a little different back then,” Ravyn continued, “and the slopes weren’t so damn steep.” She stopped and looked at Yanni over her shoulder. “My mother says you’ve been employed by her for ten years or so. She said I’d recognize you, but I don’t.” Yanni paused, and her heart skipped a beat. She needed to say something. In moments like these, hopping from one foot to the other alleviated her stress and anxiety, but such a mannerism would be unusual for a woman in her position. She had another solution. Drawing a slow, deep breath through her nose, she considered Ravyn’s words and tried to pluck an old bookmark from her mind on her first day of employment. The memory came back to her, as fresh as it was the day it happened. “Mistress Emberlynn wrote of my employment sometime after your departure from the estate. If the words of Mistress Emberlynn are to be believed—and I see no reason to doubt them—then she would have mentioned me in her missives to you on several occasions.” She tapped her chin in thought before continuing. “Yes. She has mentioned me many times.” Ravyn raised a brow and crossed her arms. Despite her brash words and… revealing Shulan aesthetic, Yanni liked to believe that the daughter of Emberlynn was as powerful, intelligent, and wise as— “No, I don’t remember you at all.” Yanni blinked and went wide-eyed. “W-Wha? Eh?” Her shoulders slumped. “N-N-Not at all?” Her heart sank and her dependable exterior began to fall. “Not even a little bit.” No. No, no! Calm down. Breathe in and out. In and out. Yanni resumed her posture and formed her lips into a straight line. “That…is most unfortunate. Perhaps you will remember at a later time.” Ravyn shrugged. “Maybe. Hey, is Sachiko still running her tailoring business?” “She is, but her daughter, Yukari, inherited it.” “The creepy one,” Ravyn groaned. “Take us to her.” The tips of Yanni’s fingers tingled. The conversation was moving faster than she was comfortable with. She paused, and Ravyn gestured with a hand for her to continue. “Y-yes,” Yanni managed. Tristan blinked and tilted his head at her. Destiny and Lara were looking at her now as well. She tightened her grip around her forearms, her knuckles turning white. Her nerves tacked her mind and mouth, and she swallowed. “Very well.” Yanni thought to mention the fact that Ravyn had seemingly forgotten where Sachiko’s shop was, but she couldn’t think of a witty remark or comeback to help the conversation feel more natural. In instances like these, she found that simple affirmatory or negatory comments worked best. Laughter often landed her in social trouble, so she avoided giggling or snickering. Pointing down the alley to their right, Ravyn, Tristan, and the others waited and stared at her. Yanni quickly realized that they expected her to lead, and so she gracefully took the vanguard of the group, leading them down the alley past Sakura and Mimi’s homes and onto the next stretch of street. She continued her march up the incline, then gestured for them to wait until a cart passed them by and walked across to the other row of homes and businesses. They came to a tall building, much taller than many of the other buildings in Zhuli, and Yanni motioned for them to wait on the sidewalk while she flicked her finger down a strip below a blue-white gemstone. The gem hummed with the motion of her finger, and a voice within beckoned them inside. “Huh. A doorbell?” Tristan murmured. “A ringing stone,” Ravyn corrected. “Tristan’s saying so many funny words today,” Lara noted listlessly. Yanni slid the santo door to the right—a sliding door constructed of thin wooden beams latticed and fastened to a translucent sheet of santo paper—and proffered a quick bow at the neck before entering. She stood to the side of the frame, gesturing for Ravyn and the others to enter ahead of her. Ravyn nodded before entering, and Tristan and his Party mirrored her. Ravyn stood to the opposite side, just as Yanni did, and shut the door behind her. “This is not the face I was expecting.” A woman in traditional blue-and-white Zhuli robes approached, her footsteps as soft as ever. Her tail was long and thin, her ears sharp and pointy with a tuft of white within. They both carried the same dark hue of blue as the long hair on her head. She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her gaze on Ravyn. “To what do I owe the displeasure?” “Cut the crap, Yukari,” Ravyn growled as she stepped forward. “Is your mom in?” “She is. But she is not well. What do you want?” Ravyn sighed. “I need some adjustments made to my [Combat Mode] outfit.” Yukari raised a brow. “I have not seen you in years, and the first time I see you again you ask me for a favor. I see you have not changed.” “Squawwwk! Give her a fucking break! Squaawk!” the bird perched atop Ravyn’s shoulder screamed. Yanni flinched, and her ears instinctively lurched forward. “Look, we can play catch up later, but I got a big fucking list of things to do,” Ravyn growled before entering [Combat Mode]. Her Shulan attire vanished and was replaced by resplendent robes of red and gold. The jewelry alone would have fetched a fortune of Bells from the buyer, but the robes were just as exquisite. Such silks and stones could scarce be found anywhere else but San Island. “Now can you fix it or not?” Yukari frowned and stepped forward. She brushed the fabric between her fingers and tugged at one of the seams. Then, she allowed it to fall from her hand, observing how it flowed. “I do not understand. As far as I can see, there is nothing wrong with it. Ichi Island, am I right?” Ravyn drew a deep breath. Her brash attitude toward others was almost entertaining. Almost. “Yes, I just want the damn thing trimmed.” Yukari rolled her eyes. “Yes, you want to feel the breeze between your thighs.” She sighed. “No modesty for Emberlynn’s daughter.” “Just fucking fix it.” Ravyn returned to [Civilian Mode] and set her [Cat Pack] on a nearby table where bolts of fabric lay. Carefully, she set each article of the set on the table, and her familiar flapped in a half-circle before landing on top of her head. “There. When will it be done?” “Bells first,” Yukari said. “Then we talk.” Their relationship had even more friction to it than Yanni imagined. Yukari often spoke fondly of Ravyn, though expressed disdain for her lack of contact. There were many who believed just as Emberlynn had—that Ravyn had perished some time ago. Emberlynn kept such thoughts to herself, confiding in a rare few. Yanni considered herself lucky to be one of them, and she preferred to believe that Yukari, despite being short with Emberlynn’s daughter, was at least somewhat happy to know that her friend was still alive. “There. The usual, plus extra,” Ravyn said as if she had expected pushback from the moment she stepped inside. Yukari stepped over, examined each individual coin, then hummed to herself as she scooped the Bells into her hands. She walked over to a large wooden box and inserted a key. The top popped open, and she gently placed the coins inside before locking it again. “Come back tomorrow,” Yukari said as she retrieved Ravyn’s clothing. “You and I can sit down for tea when you come back for them. You don’t get them back until we do.” Ravyn sighed. “Fine. Deal.” Yukari nodded, then disappeared behind a divider on the other side of the room. Ravyn turned around and marched past Yanni and the others, sliding open the door with oddly gentle motions, and then stepped outside. The others followed, and Yanni exited last and closed the door. “That was tense,” Tristan said, rubbing the back of his head. The entire time they had walked, he had not let go of Destiny’s hand even once. Yanni was certain of this. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” Ravyn said, “I just forgot how much baggage I left behind.” “What always cheers me up in these moments is a sweet piece of cake!” Destiny said with a raised finger. “Maybe you would like a drink as well? You like alcohol, right?” “I… No thanks,” Ravyn said. Now that was interesting. If Ravyn was the type to consume alcoholic beverages, then she should have been more than ready to accept. Yet, she showed hesitance. Considering Destiny’s comment, something had to have changed that the others were unaware of. Yanni bookmarked this event in her mind for future use. “Weird,” Lara hummed as she stepped forward to stare at Ravyn. “Your fire is missing.” Ravyn put her hand against Lara’s face and pushed her away. “Are we continuing the tour or what?” Yanni nodded, prepared with a bookmark for just such an occasion. “Yes. I know of a quaint little restaurant that we can rest at.” “Oh, I like quaint!” Destiny said. Tristan looked at Destiny, smiling wide. Destiny leaned her head against his shoulder. “Then let’s go there.” Yanni led the way once more, and their Party found themselves close to the bottom of the main incline. The shop was closed, and a sign expressing that the owner had made a trip to Shulan for spices was plastered to the front of the santo door. “How peculiar,” Yanni said. “Should we go somewhere else?” Destiny asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Yes, I suppose we should,” Yanni said, distracted by the sign. She stepped forward and brushed her finger across the parchment. A thick layer of dust coated her fingertip. As she lifted the corner and noted the stark contrast of the door’s white paper beneath, everything became clear. It had been a month since that sign was put up—Yanni was certain that it was this very same one. “Is something wrong?” Tristan asked. Such an inquisitive man. “This is most unusual. Karaka is a prompt woman. She takes exceptional pride in her work and her business. She should have returned by now.” “How long has she been gone for?” Destiny asked. “One month.” A sinking sensation in the pit of Yanni’s stomach formed as she silently noted her lack of visitation with Karaka for so long. “No fucking way that it takes a month to get spices from Shulan and come back,” Ravyn said. Yanni glanced at her. There was still the brashness to her voice, the irritation in her tone. But somewhere in there she was sure she heard a hint of concern. Perhaps Ravyn was more like her mother than Yanni initially thought. “That is correct. Karaka is not the type to leave and never return. There are many who depend on her.” “Something stinks,” Lara said, sniffing the air. “That’s rotting fish,” Ravyn sighed. “Oh!” Karaka was a fair friend of Yanni’s. However, Emberlynn had made it quite clear that she was to act as her mouthpiece and guide Ravyn and Tristan as necessary. She stepped back. “My apologies. We shall visit another restaurant.” Yanni began her walk up the road when Tristan stopped her. “You don’t want to look for her?” Tristan asked. Yanni looked at him over her shoulder, blinking. “From the way you talked about her, it sounds like she’s your friend.” How observant. Yanni had taken great care not to exhibit emotions or gestures which would suggest such things. Perhaps her word choice had been the problem. Regardless, Tristan was able to discern their friendship from very little. That was to be lauded. “Yes. I do wish to look for her.” Yanni turned around, hands clasped. “However, Mistress Emberlynn was clear on what she expected of me.” Ravyn mimicked her silently and mouthed the words. “Who fucking cares what my mom thinks? Your friend’s missing. Doesn’t that bother you?” Yanni swallowed, and her nerves began to fight back. The conversation was moving too fast again. “Y-yes.” Rayvn blinked. “So, let’s go look for her. See if someone saw her leave. If this restaurant perks up the ears like you’re suggesting, then I’m sure someone else has looked into it.” Yanni blinked. “Yes.” Her mind was becoming a fog. Her fingers writhed. She had to say something. “P-p-please. C-can we find her?” Tristan smiled and Ravyn smirked. Then they nodded.