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rix_scaeduThis piece runs to 1,896 words and I hope that you enjoy it.
Naiphday, 11 Deichen, 1893 C.E.
Eheid, 1 Kaalen, 2157 T.M.L.
9 Ueuekayomatilistli, 16 Coatl, 6.11.2.1.8.3.17
Dear Journal,
Today is both Naiphday and a day of rest, so I began the day expecting it to be quiet. Nais brought me my warm water and reported that the factions that thought the family should come to the scullery for their water are now in agreement that this should not be so - two of my 'growing boy' cousins attempted to raid the pantry in the wee, small hours of the morning. It seems they now agree with Cook that the hordes should be kept out of the kitchen and away from the pantry.
Lord Elnaith arrived in good time to escort Nais and I to morning prayers in the consulate chapel, and it was a pleasant morning for the walk. Because today is a local day of rest and last Naiphday was not, the streets were much quieter than last time we did this. No deliveries are being made today and it seems most people were taking the opportunity to have a quiet morning at home with their households. The arrangements at the chapel were the same as last Naiphday. The entrical was recited by the same young man as last time, and today's sermon was on Stewards 3, Chapter 6, verse 17: "Service faithfully rendered is not service blindly given. The one who renders service has a duty to those they serve to apply critical thinking, a sound moral compass, and good faith towards all in their service." The banns were not read for Lord Elnaith and I, but our engagement was included in the announcements from the pulpit.
After the service was over, Lord Elnaith and I received many congratulations on our engagement from the congregation including the Right Reverend dh' Ghruaign, all the Fhraighait family, Mr dh'Bhraigh (who I also thanked for attending last night), the footmen on duty, and various people who were in attendance but to whom I have not actually been introduced.
The walk home was very pleasant and only slightly busier than the walk to the consulate.
Miztli admitted us to the house, and when we joined the family in the breakfast room slightly later all my cousins were there, including the nursery contingent. Lord Elnaith looked slightly startled at this and it was, I must say, a very full room. I don't think he knew quite what to make of the communal porridge cauldron at first, but he said that he liked it and, after asking if it was permissible, had a second slightly smaller bowl. (He also asked me to get the recipe so we could consider having it on our own breakfast table at times.) He did say to Cousin Poktlilui and Great-aunt when thanking them for the meal that there were times when as a serving officer and later as a law student, he would have been delighted to have such a meal.
Someone asked if arrangements were in train for the wedding as yet. Lord Elnaith looked at me apologetically, said that he hadn't discussed it with me, and then said that he'd asked his kinsman in Umbrial, Mr bh'Dhoinh, to look into the availability of our preferred church for the week after my twenty-fifth birthday and find out what venues might be hired for the wedding breakfast if the guest list is too large for my brother's house or if there is some other reason the celebration cannot be held there. Several people asked why after my twenty-fifth birthday, and Lord Elnaith said that it appeared that several of the trustees seemed to think they had some sort of veto power over my marriage before I aged out of the trust. I asked about that, and he said that they have not actually said that, but that seems to be what they are talking around. A discussion of trustees and legal stratagems then ensued.
When the meal was over, Lord Elnaith made his farewells, but not without pledging to see the Jaguar Knights and myself, separately, tomorrow. His parting comment that he planned to deal with his correspondence reminded me that I should write to my mother and siblings, but I set that aside until the afternoon and went up to my room to read the next chapter of "Meditations on the Healing Virtues."
As it turns out, Chapter Nine is a sermon for Winter's Day. It might seem an odd subject, given the title of the Reverend Doctor Ghaighul's book, but it talks about winter as the season when the plant world resets itself between autumn and spring, how the cold cleans the field of pests and diseases, and how man overcomes the privations of the season with planning and co-operation. I noticed that he managed to include exactly eleven religious verses in the text which is, of course, the winter number. It makes me wonder how many other little jokes I might have picked up in his sermons if we had been contemporaries.
There was still time before lunch, after I had finished reading the sermon, so I started writing a letter to my mother. The difficulty I had in writing this letter was in how much to tell her. Obviously, my biggest news is my engagement to Lord Elnaith, closely followed by my plans to return home. The issue being that I don't know if Tallaig has told her of the engagement yet or if he will have done so by the time she receives this letter. I don't want to hurt her feelings unnecessarily by not telling her at all until I return home, but much as I expect she would want to organise the wedding celebrations, that responsibility lies with Tallaig as my guardian and head of the family, and solely on him until my birthday. Given the dates of my birthday and the solstice, and Naiphday, I can't see the wedding happening until after the solstice. Also, not only do I not want to deprive Tallaig of the possible benefits of his own, personal working connection with an Imperial kinsman (Mr bh'Dhoinh) I would unfortunately be unsurprised if Mother tried to present Sura to Lord Elnaith as a better match than me. I don't think he would be interested, but at least three of the four of us would be embarrassed by such an attempt.
Lunch was a thick, delicious fish soup flavoured with tomato and chilli, and studded with large chunks of fish. I asked Cousin Poktlilui and Great-aunt if I could approach Cook for some of her recipes to take home with me and mentioned both soup and the household's rest day breakfast porridge. Great-aunt said that she thought that Cook would be pleased to be asked, but advised that I should wait till tomorrow to ask, and give Great-aunt time to raise the subject with her first.
After lunch I wrote to my siblings. As I have no idea how informed my sisters are, my longest and most detailed letter was to Tallaig. In it I told him the planned dates for my journey home, and asked him to please let me know how much he has told the rest of the family about my engagement, while acknowledging that I should be on my way home by then. (The fastest he can receive this letter is ten or eleven days and we are due to embark in eight.) I added a postscript to my mother's letter and included in my sisters' letters that Axolin will be escorting me home and gave them the estimated date of our arrival.
Once my letters were written I had enough time before dinner to read another sermon. This was written for St Onna's Day, which marks the beginning of ecclesiastical spring, and worked on the themes of hope, resilience, and new growth.
Dinner tonight was a bean stew - thick, and flavoured with tomatoes and chili. Very fortifying and delicious. It may have used a meat or fish stock, but I suspect it didn't. I sat with Ghilhaidha, Chicmacteskatl, Eloxochitl, Yeiteskatl, and Chiccitlati to eat our meals. Much of our conversation revolved around how traditional Confederation households handle rest days . (Both of my cousins' husbands grew up in traditional households.) Aside from fetching their own washing water from the scullery, they would dish their own meals up in the kitchen and carry them to the dining area. (I can understand Cook not wanting so many intruders in her kitchen even on a day of rest.) They both agreed that the household cook would prepare the food, with a lot of preliminary work done the day before. I did ask how this would vary, in the amount of work, from the everyday in homes where there are no servants but I don't think I managed to convey my question accurately. That or cooks only get to do less work not no work no matter whether they are servants or members of poorer families. I mentioned the cook shops we have in poorer parts of town where the homes are too old, too poor, or too small to have ovens, but they were uncertain whether there are equivalents here.
Card games are unsuitable for Naiphday, in most circumstances, but I was persuaded to play the city board game with Nantli Yahari, Tekatl Umetlalliyaotl, Cipac Chan, and Chiccitlalti. They introduced me to a style of game where the players are trying to meet a joint objective with the points based on contribution and meeting certain goals on the way. It is, as Chiccitlalti said, a specialised type of collective win. The scoring seems quite complicated and one thing that individual players can gain points for is using minimal additional resources to build pr purchase new buildings. I tried keeping aside a little from each round, and my 'surprise contribution' purchased with my growing pile or resources at about the time the others were beginning to eye that pile askance, was a board-wide waste disposal system and service. Many turns earlier than it usually comes up, and consequently reducing the costs of several other buildings for everyone. It certainly cut the cost of housing in my district. We won the game, although Tekatl Umetlalliyaotl had the highest individual point score. It was a good game (I enjoyed itand the others seemed to as well) and Nantli Yahari suggested that we might play again on another night with one of the slightly more challenging scenarios.
I excused myself and bade everyone goodnight at that point, before coming up to my room. I adjusted the windows, because the wind was blowing the curtains around, before getting changed for bed, and I could see lightning in the distance along the horizon. There were stars overhead here, and nothing was moving in the street outside, except for moths fluttering around the streetlights. I am looking forward to a good night's sleep - eight more days before we board the airship to take me home. No need to begin packing yet, but time to make sure that I have everything I need to make the journey home. Should I check whether the purchases I have made will need another chest? Does Nais have a suitable chest or other container for her possessions? I put these aside as questions for the morning and bid you, Dear Journal, goodnight.
Anadrasata Nearabhigan
no subject
Date: 2025-07-29 10:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-07-29 11:13 pm (UTC)As it turns out, Chapter Nine is a sermon for Winter's Day. It might seem an odd subject, given the title ofAs it turns out, Chapter Nine is a sermon
for Winter's Day. It might seem an odd subject, given the title of the Reverend Doctor Ghaighul's book, but it talks about winter as the season when the...
And the second is further down in the same set of paragraphs:
but it talks about winter as the season when the plant world resets itself between autumn and spring, how the cold cleans the field of pests and diseases,
and how man overcomes the privations of the season with planning and co-operation. I noticed that he managed to include exactly eleven religious verses
in the text which is, of course, the winter number. It makes me wonder how many other little jokes I might have picked up in his sermons if we had been
contemporaries.
The third and last is here:
Dinner tonight was a bean stew - thick, and flavoured with tomatoes and chilli. Very fortifying and delicious. It may have used a meat or fish stock,
but I suspect it didn't.
Dinner tonight was a bean stew - thick, and flavoured with tomatoes and chili. Very fortifying and delicious. It may have used a meat or fish stock, but
I suspect it didn't. I sat with Ghilhaidha, Chicmacteskatl, Eloxochitl, Yeiteskatl, and Chiccitlati to eat our meals. Much of our conversation revolved ...
no subject
Date: 2025-07-29 11:53 pm (UTC)I'm not sure if the cause was an entirely me problem or if my laptop is doing something strange every so often while I'm typing away.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-30 03:03 am (UTC)This story continues to intrigue. I've been wondering for a while, but keep forgetting to ask, regarding Tlamatki Aikemairh Cecitlalti Dhairaign Temachtiani (yes, I went and looked up his full name and title). Is that a scholarly signifier attached to his given name, either before or after, and what else is being noted there? At first I thought he might be an Eagle Knight, but if that's his full formal name, he's not a Tekatl. And, Cecitlalti - does he have Confederation background, or did he adopt a local second name?
no subject
Date: 2025-10-02 07:01 pm (UTC)