16
Last summer, Myriana visited the realm to the north; Queen Kate’s country. I happened to be there in the city when she arrived. The two of them were closer in friendship, and trust, than any other pair of queens I’d ever witnessed.
Of course, the queens, no matter whose realm they are in, display pleasantry, and tact, even manners and grace when they come together. Lips smile, and expressions shine, but shifters know the undercurrents.
The politics of humans is an odd dance. And it’s a lot different of a dance than that of the Kind.
Most shifters have enhanced senses; olfactory awareness, hearing, taste, awareness of vibration. We are physical in our communication as well, and these moments are not subtle. They are meant to be overt, and laid bare so the purpose and motivations are obvious.
Facial expressions, and voice tone - as well as the words chosen - can be shifted to obscure meaning, or given a pleasant face to cover over the bones of boredom, disagreement, envy, and even lust. Each of those emotional states have distinct scents, however. Humans have no ability to mask these scents. The scents pour out of them as bold as spotlights and wild fires. The vibrations of their bodies shout their fears, and lust, high above their calm and restrained words; witnessing with herald and choir to all attendants, exactly what they have in them - and who they want to fuck.
Yet, humans are aware of these blind areas in their perceptions. Enough so that when queens meet or visit, shifters are not part of their groups of attendants. On such trips, the priestesses, the attendants of the temple, are the personal escorts, and keep watch inside the rooms of the court. Shifters keep a polite distance unless invited or called. This is not common law, but rather law of decorum. It’s a wise etiquette. If humans ever became aware of just how loud their bodies betrayed, while they engaged in polite conversation, I believe we would experience another Fall.
How they move about, and engaged with each other, puzzled my mind for many years, until I met Ragnar, my mentor. Even with his patient tutelage, I remained confused for more than another year. It felt to me that humans could never be trusted, and that they lived lives of deception and ignorance with intention. With their words they claimed high road virtues, pledging beliefs in morals and standards, while their scents told me rape was always an option. Just as much of an option as murder.
“They have no morals, no standards,” I told Ragnar.
“On the contrary, they have both and stronger than most of the Kind,” he said, taking the last bite from a lamb bone, then tossing it into our camp fire.
“Are you being sarcastic?” I asked, genuinely confused.
He poked the fire with a stick, and then settled back against the tree behind him. “I’m not being sarcastic at all. You believe we are honest, but we’re not. Not really. We tell the truth and control our emotions until there is little difference between our walk through life, and death. We tell the truth because everyone will know if we lie, and even more damning, why we chose to lie. Is that truly worthy of praise?”
When I didn’t answer, he cleared his throat. “That blacksmith’s wife, in the market area this afternoon. The one who said, quite forcibly, that she would never marry or sleep with a shifter. She was quite insulting, wasn’t she?”
I nodded in agreement, remembering the events just as well as if they were happening at this current moment.
“She was also quite hot for you. She has been since we arrived in this city. Hell, she masturbates at least three times before lunch with you walking around.”
This was true. It was an unmistakable odor, and impossible not to notice. Also an obvious fact, so I met his eyes, and shrugged. “And?”
“Is she lying?” he asked me.
Lowering my head, I rolled my shoulders. “Isn't it obvious?”
His grin, and the amused glint in his eyes, pushed my annoyance bone deep.
“Is it?” he asked.
“Yes, of course it is,” I growled.
“This is why you can’t understand them.” He picked up the stick again. “We say what we mean, and only judge what not to say. We know our feelings and act on them with as much skill as possible. But humans have only themselves to police them. Her husband believes her, and he should. Because she would not have sex with a shifter, or anyone other than her husband. It does not matter how attracted she is to you, or what you could possibly offer. It also doesn’t matter how much she has to wear her fingers out blunting that edge you put her on. It doesn’t matter how much she wants you, she will never act on that desire.”
Ragnar lifted his eyebrow. “So, again, is she a liar?”
That was my first true insight into the human world. They have such complicated lives. Their lusts, and passions run wild through them. Wild, and like most wild things, their lusts are dangerous, and hungry. They work hard, plan, scrape and build so they can get out of the wilds and into a house; inside, behind a door where it is safe, and yet, bring the wildest most dangerous piece of nature inside with them. Themselves.
These were the thoughts I woke with, the thoughts which carried me out onto Myriana’s balcony to watch the world inside the Keep wake and begin its day. Even now I still didn’t understand them. Their ways, their loneliness. Their separation.
Out here on the balcony, with my ears and nostrils, I could discern the general mood of the market place below. Worry and anger were low. A grim determination filled the air, though there was a strong doubt under it all. Knowing the history since their last queen died, and knowing her daughter was untested, this made sense to me. However, the humans below, right in the middle of all of that information, were separated from it. Blind, deaf, unable to connect. Each of them having to rely only on what was said, facial expressions, reputation, and knowing that all of those could be false, or worse, partially correct.
Searching faces, my eyes only found a forced normality as people greeted each other with smiles and casual waves. I’ve come to find this difference to be a normal affair with them, which is why Myriana stands out so clear to me. Her scent is clean, sharp. When she rode in last summer to visit with Queen Kate, her scent was that way. Everyone else had confused and unfocused scents, except for Myriana, and Iris.
Iris, like other shifters, was raised knowing scents and focus. While Myriana was raised around shifters, she had no way of training, and yet she was much like us. Her mind was sharp and clear, unconfused with sporadic emotions.
When she rode into Queen Kate’s Keep, I recognized her at once. Her poise, her scent, her hair, the fire and life in her skin. No doppelganger could counterfeit her. Her eyes shone as brightly as her smile as she came up to the steps and dismounted to greet Kate with a glee filled hug and cheek kisses.
As custom demanded, Iris remained mounted and only watched as the maidens of the temple gathered around them and hurried into the Keep doors. The crowd was caught up in their energy and cheered, throwing flowers and colored paper into the air. Then they too hurried off to the public houses and taverns inside the Keep walls, leaving only a few, like myself, looking longingly at the closed doors.
The sound of the inside door opening and the wave of her scent hit me at almost the same time, bringing me back to the present.
"I was told you were hoping to be attacked in here." Her voice was strong, and filled with lustful humor. The vibrations touched me like fingers massaging my spine and hands. The lobes of my ears quavered to her frequency. Total resonance.
I shouldn’t be here, I told myself. Looking down into the market place, I could make the leap to the ground with ease. The fall would do nothing to me. Staying could only help spread ruin. Not just to the kingdom, but to her. Mostly to her.
Her hand laid on the back of my neck, and then lightly gripped my shoulder. "You’re not going to run now, are you?" Had it been that obvious? Or was this just Myriana – more tuned into shifter senses than she should be. She had closed the door behind her when she came in. There was no one else in the room with us. Someone, a guard of some sort was standing before the door - an armed Do Not Disturb message.
"You better not. Especially not after waiting all night," she added. The hairs on my spine and stomach raised and shivered.