xii. written

[heloise]

[ Lucrezia writes in curled letters, more like pictures than text, a little poetry or is it a riddle? ]

πόλυ πάκτιδος ἀδυμελεστέρα χρύσω χρυσοτέρα


[ Meanwhile she is at the laundry room, seated on the floor with her light green gown spread about her. She has both hands on one machine, watching the colors spin through the glass with amazement on her face. Yellows, blues, greens and purples! ]

[ trans.; than the lyre, far sweeter in tone than gold, more golden. ]

Comments

[heloise]

So it washes while it dances. Perhaps men ought to learn the same!

[mors]

Washing while dancing seems like quite the difficult thing to manage though, don't you think? I'm not sure most men would be able to do it.

[heloise]

Not most men. But the ones that could would be servants worthy of a Queen.

[mors]

But they wouldn't be worthy of being a king?

If one would need to do that much to be a servant, what would a king need to do?

[heloise]

Wash and dance and rule the land!

[mors]

He can't rule the land before he becomes a king, though! How does that work?

[heloise]

Kings are all warriors or princes once, and not all men are born with a crown on their heads.

[mors]

I suppose that's true.

[heloise]

Would dancing and washing be useful talents for a King, do you think?

[mors]

I can't say I'd really know... I've never seen kings when they're doing well.

[heloise]

Only when they are doing poorly?

[mors]

In a manner of speaking, yes.

[heloise]

And why is that?

[mors]

It doesn't matter a great deal, does it?

It wouldn't make any difference, so I'd rather not say.

[heloise]

But it should. The people suffer when the King leads poorly, do they not?

[mors]

I never said it was a matter of the king's leadership skills. ...Although, occasionally I suppose it is.

[heloise]

Do you mean during times of drought for example?

[mors]

Sometimes, yes.

Other times it is famine, or disease... or even simply the hands of time.

No one visit is ever the same as the next, but they are never different, either.

[heloise]

[ She watches him intently for a full minute. ]

Are you the adviser of Kings? A mourner?

[mors]

Aren't most living beings mourners at some point?

[Though of course, he says nothing about whether or not the title applies to him.]

I believe you might be over thinking it a little. It's nothing that you should be so concerned by.

[heloise]

Because such things are beyond my ken?

[ She leaves it at that anyway, more or less used to that treatment, and stops in front of a dryer to peer at the spinning contents. ]

What shall I call my newest friend?

[mors]

[He doesn't reply to the first part, instead overlooking it entirely.]

You can call me Ryoji if you would like to - and if you would not like to, then you may call me Pharos instead.

[heloise]

The lighthouse. [ She grins. ]

I should like to call you Pharos.

[mors]

You know it! [Oh, he seems pretty delighted by that.] Then Pharos it is.

[heloise]

Only through books. And you may call me Lucrezia. Borgia.