Four: Jennail Throws Decorum To The Wind

September 18, 1983 Ethelden Palace; Amhurst, Veronaville



There was a body stretched along the railing of Jennail's balcony, black and spectral. The start that it gave her carried with it a fierce wave of nausea and Jennail swallowed hard against the growing knot in her throat. Her first instinct was to flee down the hall with a half-asleep Maya in tow but then the body moved, bringing its hand to its face and taking a long, slow drag from a freshly lit cigarette. The strange juxtaposition of the cloaked figure and the cigarette shocked Jennail into regaining her presence of mind. Those were the robes of an acolyte. Jennail only knew one acolyte. She threw open the window.



Though he must have noticed the window opening, Kvornan did not give her the dignity of flinching. His statuesque figure was haloed by the light from the courtyard, making him appear all the more uncanny. A shiver ran up Jennail's spine. He was not just a boy. He was the autumn and the void.

A gust of wind blew icy against Jennail's exposed skin and she covered her cleavage with her hand, remembering herself. Kvornan brought the cigarette back to his lips.

“I told you not to visit me!” Jennail hissed, breaking the silence. Kvornan exhaled a great veil of smoke.

“I have trouble taking orders.” His tone was as cool and indifferent as ever. Jennail folded her arms over her chest, willing him to look at her. He did not.

“You asked and I said no!”



Kvornan flicked his ashes into the air and they hovered above him without dropping. Only the round tip of his nose was visible from behind the hood and it was crimson with cold. Jennail wondered how long he had been lying there motionless on her balcony without her noticing. She wished she'd gone on not noticing.

“I missed you,” Kvornan said, still focusing on the sky overhead. Jennail made a clicking sound with her tongue.

“You don’t even know me,” she scoffed. God, but he was exasperating. His ashes disappeared into thin air as Maya's tiny voice floated up from another part of the room, another life, another plain of existence.

“Could you keep it down, Nai? I’m trying to sleep.” Jennail turned to look at her. A self-satisfied smile played across Maya's lips. This was all her doing. If Maya had kept her mouth shut the last time they crossed paths then Jennail would not be in this situation. Kvornan sat up and swung his legs over the railing to face the window.



His hair was pulled back tightly. His eyes were leafed in gold. His cloak billowed just slightly and for an instant, Jennail found herself admiring an etherial beauty in him.

“Come outside and close the window,” Kvornan whispered. Jennail shook her head resolutely.

“Absolutely not. This is so inappropriate I don’t even know where to begin. Are you really smoking in a ladies’ dormitory?”

“I can put it out if you like.”

“No, what I would like is for you to leave. Now.”

“I can’t.”



Kvornan caught her gaze and held it, seemingly determined to prove that he was just as stubborn as she was. Jennail clamped her hands over her eyes in frustration and groaned.

“Why me? I’m plain and socially awkward and magically sterile and dull as tombs. I spend my free time buried in junk novels and all nightgown conversations aside, I am not loose.” She hadn't meant to say that aloud or at the very least, not so bluntly. Kvornan's eyebrows rose just enough to indicate his own surprise. He tossed his cigarette over the edge of the balcony.

“Of course not. I’m sorry if I’ve lead you to believe that I would ever think something like that,” he said softly. Jennail furrowed her brow. That was not what her concern had been, not exactly. There were fifty girls in that very building who were prettier, more charming and sophisticated-- All of which would have sold their own mothers to get a second glance from Kvornan Tanner. Meanwhile, Jennail could not seem to shake him.

“Why me then?”

Kvornan parted his lips to respond but thought better of it. He dropped down from his perch. Jennail gripped the windowsill to keep herself from backing away, causing Kvornan to pause where he was. His eyes darted to the masonry. He ran his fingertips along the concrete parapet. Jennail supposed that he knew just how unsettling his proximity could be.



“You’re like me, I think. From the moment I met you, I just... I don’t belong here. It's stifling and it's rigorous and I think maybe you don’t belong either.” Kvornan tilted his head to the side, trying to meet her fallen gaze. Though he could not have known it, he had touched upon an extraordinarily sensitive point. For years, Jennail had been trying to reassure herself that she fit in, that she belonged, that these were her people. Kvornan might have embraced the idea of being different but Jennail was wounded by the simple truth, particularly when she considered the source. Kvornan was not a catty, red-headed colleague or an exasperated professor. He had not gone looking for weakness in her but he had found it and easily. Jennail bit her lips, praying to keep her eyes from clouding over. The very last thing she needed was to cry in front of the Sheut.

“Come outside and let’s start over. I’m Kvornan. What’s your name?” he said quietly. Jennail rose her head.



“You know full well what my name is,” she sniffed. A smile stretched across Kvornan's face far more brightly than Jennail thought him capable of. She cursed herself for the notion but he really was handsome in way.

“Play along,” he urged her. Jennail sighed.

“I’m Jennail. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mahadeva.”

“Kvornan.”

“There is no chance of me ever calling you that. Ever.”



“Fair enough. And for the record, I don’t think you’re dull.” Jennail snorted, then followed the display by clamping her hand to her mouth, blocking any further amused but unladylike sounds.

“I'm not dull but I am all the rest?” she asked, smirking through her fingers. Kvornan spoke slowly, measuring his words.

“You’re special and you’re rare and I would very much like to get to know you if you’ll let me. Please.”



Jennail dropped her hand. A warm flush spread across her cheeks. Ordinarily, she was self-conscious about blushing, freckled and blotchy as she was but for the moment, she felt at ease. There was something in the way Kvornan was grinning that told her he was more nervous than she had ever been. Jennail drew her confidence from his unease.

“How did you get up here, anyway?” she asked, gazing at the opposite facade. Kvornan scratched his head through the hood.

“I— Well I climbed up the trellis on the other side and glided down from the roof.” Jennail leaned forward over the windowsill, neverminding her neckline or the way that Kvornan's eyes were drawn to it.

“Show me," she demanded. Kvornan laughed.

“You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me.”

“No, I want to see.” Kvornan stared blankly at her for a time as if considering whether he really should. Then he hopped backwards onto the ledge with the self-assurance of someone who could see just as well behind himself as he could ahead. What happened next frightened Jennail so throughly that she would find herself dreaming about it for the next several nights.



Kvornan propelled himself backwards, pushing off with his arms and springing with his legs. In the brief instant that it happened, Jennail forgot who he was and what he was capable of. She even forgot the wall that separated them, nearly jettisoning her body after his and bruising her stomach in the process.



Kvornan's head disappeared just below the level of the parapet. Jennail's pulse thundered in her chest. She knew that he was fine and that he had landed firmly on his feet but at the same time, she had just witnessed him jumping from a two-story ledge. It was impossible not to be afraid regardless of what her better judgement told her.

"Lord?" Jennail's voice echoed from the walls of the courtyard. The black precipice of his hood rose from the other side of the balcony and soon, his entire body came into view, hovering six or seven feet away.



"Sorry, I didn't catch myself as quickly as I had planned," he laughed, teetering a little as he did so. Jennail gaped. She had never seen nor had she ever imagined that she would see a person levitating that far from the ground.

“How are you doing that?” Her tone was almost accusatory. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. How was he doing that?

“Come outside and give me your hand.” Kvornan extended his arms to her and floated over to the edge of the balcony. Jennail froze. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Should I?” Indeed, his 'not catching himself as quickly as he had planned' did not inspire Jennail with much confidence. Kvornan frowned exaggeratedly and a small laugh escaped from her lips.

“I would never let you fall.” Kvornan leaned against the balustrade.

“I know that, I just--”

“You’re as safe with me as you are on solid ground. I swear.” Jennail exhaled. She wasn't going to win. She hiked her nightgown up over her knees, throwing decorum to the wind. She hopped down from the windowsill and Kvornan helped her over the parapet.



He took her by the hands, clearly hoping to keep their contact as platonic as possible. Jennail responded by throwing herself into his arms. He caught her, supporting her head and back. It was the most unusual feeling. Kvornan was managing to stay fairly stationary. Jennail herself did not quite feel as though she were dangling. It was like they were suspended in invisible netting. She pulled Kvornan into a hug to keep herself from getting vertigo.



“This is incredible,” she said, staring at her feet and the ground below. Kvornan's chest rose with barely suppressed laughter. She supposed that this was probably mundane for him.

Jennail folded the fabric of his cloak between her fingers. His body heat was so inviting that she wondered if it would be too forward to slip her arms beneath his cloak. Kvornan gently smoothed her hair at the base of her neck and she broke away from him, determined to see the sky.


It was a cloudy night and relatively silent apart from last crickets of the season. Kvornan threaded his fingers between hers, bringing her down from the stars. The pair locked eyes, finding themselves very close and holding hands.

“We shouldn’t be out here like this. You’re going to get me into so much trouble someday," Jennail said, untangling her hand from his and looking away at nothing in particular.

“Oh, absolutely. Tonight if we’re lucky.”



Jennail bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was true that he was awful but it was equally true that for all her protests, she was awful too.

“You may still kiss me, you know," he said. Jennail leaned away from him playfully.

“Ah but I still don’t want to.”

“Maybe I think you’re pretty.”

“Bollocks.” Kvornan smirked at her obscenity. He leaned forward and she stopped him with a palm at the center of his chest.



“I need to ask you a favor. And don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough as it is,” she said. Kvornan hesitated but then brought his hand to her cheek, trailing his thumb along her jawline.

“Shoot.”

“I’m going to fail third year Object Manipulation.” Kvornan raised an eyebrow, perhaps uncertain of where the conversation was going.

“How does that happen?” Jennail scowled and he pressed his forehead to hers sympathetically.

“Need me to get you out of it?”

“No. I want you to help me learn it.”

“What? Like a tutor or something?”

“Yes.”

“How often?”

“As often as you can spare, I guess.”

“That's a dangerous thing to say. I might never leave.”

“It’s a risk I’m just going to have to take.” Kvornan's eyes darted away. He seemed to be struggling to stop himself from beaming like a fool.

“Once a week then?”

“Okay.”

“Tomorrow at three o’clock?”

“If you insist.”

“I do. I’m going to say goodnight now.” Jennail felt the corners of her mouth drooping into an involuntary pout. She hoped that she didn't look as disappointed as she felt.

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’ll try to keep the inappropriate visits down to a minimum.”

“That’s all I ask.”



Kvornan helped to ease her back onto the balcony. He carefully avoided looking at her legs, which she found to be somehow endearing. Once she found herself planted on the concrete tile, Kvornan took her hand and kissed it.



“Peace be with you, Jennail.” She smirked, shaking her head.

“You can call me Nailli.”

“There is no chance of me ever calling you that.” Jennail rolled her eyes at him and his touch fell away, leaving her feeling cold and insubstantial. She wanted to crawl back into his arms and stay there.

“Goodnight you insufferable boy.” Kvornan ascended above her line of vision. She heard his feet hit the roofing overhead and wondered if the sound had disturbed anyone. When she made her way back through the window, Maya was still pretending to sleep. Jennail closed the window behind her and pressed her back against the panes.