When morning had nearly come upon them, Laž’ar returned to the room of his mother’s to wash up and sleep for a little while before he had to get up again to prepare the Pavilion for the next evening, like the other children of the Pavilion.
“Laž’ar!”
He lowered his eyes as his mother stormed towards him. She pulled the veil off and grabbed his chin, inspecting his face closely. Only a moment later, she frustratedly began wiping it to check if he was hiding any marks.
“Mother, I’m fine. I know how to avoid them.”
His mother paused before she cupped his cheeks in her fragile hands and pressed a kiss on top of his head. “Laž’ar … My Meçalaž… Please don’t worry your mother so.”
“I got you more money,” he replied quietly. “You said you needed more.”
“I don’t need it so much that you need to worry about it. It will be fine as long as you are safe and sound.”
Laž’ar nodded slightly. His mother dragged him into her room and seated him upon the bed.
“Promise me never to do this again. You don’t need to sing to anyone. Do you understand?”
“I understand, mother.”
“Now promise me never to sing at the Pavilion ever again.”
“But mother, they will still look at me, whether I sing or not. I can give you money, so what’s the harm?”
“Laž’ar, you’re too young. You don’t understand how dangerous it is. They don’t even know anything!”
“They won’t know.”
His mother let out a heavy sigh. “Meçalaž, little child…”
“I’m not so little anymore. I’m in the soil cycle. Soon I will turn sixteen, no? I’m more than half way through to be of age.”
“You’re not even close to sixteen! And even if you were, it is because you are this age that I say it’s dangerous. What would you do if your voice changes? How will you explain yourself then?”
“But mother…”
“Don’t begin talking about how you’ll be a divine. You don’t understand enough!”
“Mother, I will be a divine.”
“Laž’ar, you don’t have to say such a thing just because you never wish to leave. You don’t have to dress like this either.”
Laž’ar lowered his gaze in contemplation.
His mother stroke his hair affectionately, but he only felt slightly bitter because he knew this was her way of telling him she could protect him, as long as he did as she wanted.
“Very well,” he muttered. “I’ll do as mother says.”
“Good child.”
After he woke up, he quietly got out of the bed he share with his mother and got dressed, putting on a tunic in a deep blue with a pattern of water lilies and goldfish. He put a yellow sash around his waist, and put up his hair.
When he came downstairs it was already noon and some of the other children were already busying themselves. Some of them paused when they saw him.
All of them were the same. Most of them dressed in silk and wore jewellery. All of them were also younger than he was.
“Zallaž! Good morning!”
“Have you finished up?” he asked the girl who approached him.
“Yes! We’ve cleaned up everything together with the servants!”
“Well done.” He saw one child, not even to his waist, yawn. The corners of his mouth quirked up and he turned to the girl. “Have you eaten already? Take a break and take the youngest to sleep for a little while. Once they wake up, your mothers ought to be awake too.”
The girl nodded to show she understood. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Are you going out?”
Laž’ar nodded to the girl.
She was barely younger than him, and perhaps he envied the freedom of being the eldest of the Pavilion’s children. And so she huffed and turned away.
He shrugged at the younger looking at him.
“I’ll be back soon.”
The others nodded and he left them to their own.
Outside of the Rose Pavilion the street was nearly as filled with life as it would be in the evening. Before long, however, it would calm down as the peak of the heat hit. Laž’ar easily navigated through the people going to and fro, some of the leaving, some of them coming. He found his way to an alley and with ease found his way out of the Emerald Silk district.
Only now did he slow down a little.
Before long he found himself in front of a book shop and he entered.
“Ah, little lord!”
Laž’ar gave the shopkeeper a nod.
“What are you looking for today?”
“Do you have any new collections of art or poetry?”
The shopkeeper hummed as he walked to a shelf. “These are what we have. Are you looking to learn poetry? Then I suggest this one.”
The man picked out a book and handed it to Laž’ar. He opened it.
“‘The moon is the beauty of the night, the white water lily of the sky’.” He read the first line aloud. It was more than a little familiar. “Is there something else?”
“This isn’t good enough for the little lord? Let me tell you, this is very popular.”
“No, I’m familiar with the writer. I likely have most of their work already.”
“This one too? It’s very new.”
Laž’ar smiled up at the shopkeeper. “I frequent many places.”
“I see, I see.”
The shopkeeper took the book off his hands and began looking for something else. Meanwhile Laž’ar looked around. A pamphlet caught his eye. He tugged the shopkeeper’s sleeve.
“What is it?”
Laž’ar pointed. “What’s that?”
The shopkeeper looked for a while then nodded. “It’s about the Imperial Clan. Care to take a look?”
“Ah, no, not that one.” Laž’ar picked up one next to it with the title ‘Last Rose of the Garden’. “This one.”
“Aha! That one is just of the nobility that came from a foreign land in the northwest.”
“What a strange name.”
“Emperor Šerçian doesn’t think so when asking to compile it.”
“I see.”
He put it back and let the shopkeeper find him a poetry book, picking out one that was of translated poems from foreign out of curiosity.
Laž’ar returned with his poetry book, some new ink, and food for him and his mother. Things had already got very busy, but most simply ignored him.
He returned to his mother’s room, finding her sitting in bed. He had noticed that she lately seemed very tired when she woke up. Perhaps it was only the season, because it had bee unusually hot this autumn, perhaps being up at night tired her out. He couldn’t tell. He also didn’t really care which it was. If she just rested enough, she would be fine.
“Mother,” he called out softly as he stepped inside.
“Laž’ar,” she replied with a smile.
“Are you feeling well today?”
“Of course I feel fine. Have I ever said otherwise?”
Laž’ar put his things on the table, then offered the bun he had bought. “Here. Eat a little. I’ll go get some water heated for you.”
She took it off his hands. “You’re very kind, my child.”
He shook his head. “Mother thinks too highly of me. I’m very selfishly wanting to make sure mother stays well.”
His mother huffed a soft laugh. “That doesn’t change that you are kind.”
“Then since I’m so kind, may I have a reward?”
She raised an eyebrow at him while he smiled innocently in return.
“What is it?” she finally asked with a shake of her head.
“Could you say my birth name? It’s been very long since I heard it.”
His mother averted her gaze. “Laž’ar…” she said softly.
Laž’ar smiled widely. “Don’t mind it, mother. It’s a silly request.” He gave her the poetry book. “I was simply remindedof it when I found this. Perhaps some of it is familiar to you, so I got it for you.”
“Thank you, my child.”
“I just happened to see it walking past the shop. It’s nothing.”
He turned around, the smile fading as he exited the room to boil his mother some water to drink before he helped her prepare to entertain this day too once the worst heat of the day faded away. Prepare her to relieve the men who came by, if only with beauty and eloquence, unlike the other similar establishments of the Emerald Silk district.