(no subject)

[iniquiticity]

18. Facta non verba.Deeds, not words.

from latin prompts. inbox is open.

The thing was that Rhodin had become a liar without much effort and quite early in his life. Even before he had come to the palace - funny to think back on that strange but impactful sliver of his life - he he had a strange relationship with the truth. He supposed that if one of those priests who worked you through the problems in your life might have heard the story it might have seemed expected or trite. Lord and Lady an Gaiange had something they called the truth, and Rhodin had a tutor who brought him lunch because otherwise he might be unlikely to have it. His parents had a truth, and Rhodin was lucky his tutor was Alinorel, with the typical passion for teaching and learning, and thus his fencing lessons came with history lessons, and when he expressed an interest in books he was lent them.

He told his tutor and the house staff and his family what it seemed well-advised for them to know. What was important was that what Rhodin said could be corroborated or believed without too much effort. That mattered, as well as getting Rhodin what he wanted, which varied from day to day.

One day he realized that he would never get what he wanted here - that the thing the family said was the truth would leave him with a couple of different fascinating variations of nothing - and thus he went to a place where the truth meant absolutely nothing no one he ever met, and thus was a place for a liar like him.

The thing about the Palace of Stars was that how you acted was unrelated to how you felt about the truth. Rhodin made himself him home among the more talented liars of the court and got what he wanted.

And so it was, much later- after the world had come crashing down around him and a hairsbreath of marble and the strength of his fingers alone had allowed him to experience a later at all, rather than his end being in a between-worlds chasm as the palace tore from it's bearings - that this handling of the world changed his life.

He was at the time a middling spy and a middling palace guard, because he had not tried to be anything else. (He had previously told his captain it was all he aspired for.) It was a good time for liars in the palace, with the emperor in his long sleep. He had previously been talking to Lord Laguz, agreeing nonchalantly with the problems of their time, that there were so few of noble birth left, and who was he supposed to fill his dinner cards with? Not those of common birth, surely?

Never, Rhodin agreed, aghast.

Lunch at the mess had improved steadily, by which Rhodin meant it was now edible, and after he had been given something (?) to eat, he saw a man eating alone. The man carried himself in a way of common birth, with broad shoulders, and his impressive biceps were flattered by the uniform shirt-sleeves that marked him as off-duty imperial guard.

Words? Meaningless.

Instincts? The soft hum of the universe? Actions?

Rhodin trusted those. He sat down with the man and grinned at him, and the man looked up at him - Azilinti features, and thoughtful eyes. Rhodin had seen the man on guard at the emperor's bier, before.

"Hello," he said, "Ser Rhodin an Gaiange. This is my favorite meal - what's yours?"