Chapter 96: Cherazza 6
286AC
The air in Yunkai was ripe with tension in the weeks leading before the festival of the harpy. Of all the cities of the Ghiscari, from Meereen in the North to New Ghis in the south, the festival was a way to usher in glory and victory through the new year, a week-long period of festivities and plenty that was considered to provide for the future. The best of each of the cities brought to bear and exchanged between them in great feasts and Gala's.
In Meereen that meant lavish bloodsports, thousands of men fighting and dying fighting everything from great beasts of Sothoryos to mock navy battles in the coliseums and blood-pits of the great city.
In New Ghys, it was largely a harvest festival, with rituals specific to the gods of that land, and military Triumphs with their Iron Legions marching in lockstep through the boulevards of the city which pretended it was Old Ghis come again. Astor was much the same, only the unsullied or other, more specialized breeds of slave-soldier were shown in its streets, showing it's products for sale.
The same was true of Yunkai, but the products were not soldiers, but dancers, entertainers, bed slaves and more. It was said that any pleasure imaginable could be purchased in the yellow city on a normal day, but that during the festival of the harpy one did not need to look hard to find them. Indeed, it was widely held that Yunkai held the best festivals, and most lavish feasts of all the free cities, drawing in merchants, masters, nobles and other prominent men from the Ghiscari cities and beyond. In past years, she had looked forward to it, especially the fire-dances of the monkey men of the dancing palace, who leaped through the air with almost contemptuous ease while juggling torches between them, laughing all the while.
Now, however, even the thought of their silly theatrics couldn't end the guilt in her heart as she went to see Viserys. She knew it was unreasonable, that he was ultimately her father's slave and not her own, but it still felt as if something was being stolen from her as he was to be lent out to bed those whom her father wished to curry favor from.
She sighed, turning her eyes down as she stepped into the room. "Hello Viserys," she said, nervously rubbing her elbow underneath the cover of her Tokar.
"Hello, Mistress Cherazza." The boy said. He had agreed to do so for only the price of a song some weeks back, though Agazmon said that he still did not speak to others unless ordered to. There was some comfort in that, a sort of private happiness that only she was deemed worthy of his real face.
She turned her eyes from the floor, forcing a smile onto her face. "I suppose you would like to hear a song?"
"Yes."
She nodded, placing her flute to her lips, playing a tune that she had grown quite used to, the soothing tones echoing through the depths of the pyramid and bringing a small smile to Viserys face, which turned into a frown as she finished.
"You are sad," the slave prince said, not a question, but a statement of fact and she nodded slightly. "You are sad that I am to be whored out at the festival." The boy said again as if he could read her very soul from her face alone. "Why?"
She gaped at him, unable to answer for a moment as she realized that he didn't know she cared for him. Thought their time together was only transactional, that for all his apparent wisdom he could not see her feelings in truth.
She stood up from the chair and walked over to the bed. With a huff she wrapped her arms around him, drawing her into her embrace. He seemed to stop for a second and then moved to strip his rags, but she stopped him with her hand. "It is because I care for you, and I don't want to see you hurt." She told herself as much as she sis him. The admittance felt like a leaden ingot had been removed from her stomach.
For a moment, all was silent in the small stone chamber.
Then came a sniffle, and after that a sob. Viserys pressed his face into her shoulder burying his nose into her Tokar, his snot and tears leaking into the fabric which she would need to have washed.
She rubbed lazy circles on his back as she held him there, though no words would leave his mouth. They sat like that for a long time, the boy cradled against her as his tears fell, eventually, she placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so that she could look him in the face.
His purple eyes met her own, and she smiled gingerly. "Don't worry, Viserys. You will be mine soon enough. And then you won't be hurt again, I promise."
He gave a small nod wiping back his tears, and his voice was a small and weak thing. "How..?"
"You know my father plans to loan you out during the festival."
The boy nodded, Agazmon had likely instructed him on his role to be, which still filled her heart with guilt.
"Well once it is over he has said that he will give you to me. No more training, no more loaning, only serving at my side. Doesn't that sound nicer?"
The boy smiled, gently, "I could do that..?" He said, sounding unsure, before he shivered, clutching his upper arms suddenly. "But what about Mother, what about the Red Witch?"
Cherazza paused for a moment, she had not thought that far. "I will figure something out. We can flee if we have to."
The boy seemed to consider that, then nodded. "You should probably go, Cherazza, thank you for the song."
She winced, realizing how much time had likely passed, she would be late to bed tonight.
"Goodnight Viserys," she said, placing returning to the basket and placing it on his dresser.
As she turned to gather our things and make for the door however, she was frozen still by the words that left the boy's mouth.
"I love you."
Cherazza felt all the guilt she had felt before come crashing down on her with a weight like the pyramids of Yunkai themselves. She barely managed to reply in a whisper.
"I love you too…"
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
-- Power
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