Her name is Aishani.
Was she thinking clearly? Was this wise?
Aishani curled up in her cot in a little ball, completely unable to sleep. She was sure she wasn't the only one in the barracks; she was sure Lia and her friends had been livid tonight when the news about Ysavaeth and Cadejoth filtered back, and Azaylia had seemed restless, for all that Hraedhyth radiated confidently pleased certainty. Iesaryth dozed, but in contrast to her tawny sister, seemed unsettled, likely to wake at any disturbance.
So many thoughts to keep her awake; buzzing thoughts, along with a low, insistent wanting pressing in the back of her mind, still echoing through her body. It didn't help. It was distracting. It was frustrating.
What had happened down south? How had Ysavaeth become the senior queen? Aishani knew that was something the gold wanted, but Iolene? Unless Ysavaeth had convinced her, or Iolene had decided the Weyr she'd envisioned was within her grasp? Did the pair have an agreement? Did it matter? Too many questions. The only way to tell was to talk to Io and see what blanks the other goldrider was willing to fill in. She'd always been open to Io's ideas, radical though they may be... and if Iolene was going ahead with her plans, was there a better way to ruin the Weyr than to take apart its power structure?
She'd have to think about that. Consider it while she tried not to feel bad about the beating that K'del was no doubt in for. He deserves it. Don't forget it. It was easier to hate a symbol than a person, someone who opened up so easily, who practically laid out his weaknesses before her.
Her name is Aishani.
N'rov had said her name back to her, to get it right, and it made something low in her stomach twist. It had occurred to her in that moment that she might never hear him say her name to her, for her, and that was more of a blow than she'd expected. She was used to being Brieli by now, used to being someone else, even to deceiving people she was beginning to consider friends. Why should one more matter?
But it did.
Maybe this had been a bad idea from the start; she barely knew him for all it felt like she did, and she had some little anxiety about how perceptive he might be, about whether she wanted to be found out, somewhere deep in the back of her mind, somehow. But in the end, it felt like it was the only way to know why her family wouldn't speak to her. The real Brieli was the only one who was like to tell her the truth, sad as that was. What had things come to when she could no longer trust her family? Everything she'd done, was still doing, was for them.
It make her feel ill.
Curling into a tighter ball, she squeezed her eyes shut so hard she saw stars, and tried to will herself to sleep. She could do nothing about any of this now. Everything could start again tomorrow.
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