by Sophia Lynn
What in the world am I getting in to? Viviana wondered, and for once, she had no smart answer for herself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Viviana had been smiling so long that she thought that her face was going to crack. The scarf that she had pinned so carefully to her hair in the morning was slipping, and if she had to listen to one more pompous blowhard talk about how women were naturally more inclined to stay at home than work, she thought that she was going to throw up.
She was dressed to the nines, though not in a style that she was used to. That morning Mikal had sent her two women who brought with them a wide variety of robes and wraps and set about garbing her as soon as she opened the door. She felt a little like a doll as they tried different fabrics and colors on, but there was no denying that they were effective at what they did.
In the end, she had been dressed in a lovely white linen set, and over that was thrown a beautifully embroidered green wrap of the sheerest silk. Pins and tucks held it in place, and then, much to her relief, they had shown her how to move in it.
Her inexperienced eye had been quite impressed with their work, but more than that, it was impressive to the people who were hosting the luncheon. This was the first of Mikal's events leading up to the vote on his legislation, and she was impressed by how effectively he was working it.
Right now, she could see him earnestly expounding his case to a pair of older men who watched him with increasing interest. She knew that just ten minutes ago, they had been wary and scornful of his work, so that was impressive progress.
Of course, that left her alone with the big man with the florid face, the one who was stepping too close to her, who had had too much to drink, and who had not stopped making insinuations about her since the beginning of the evening.
"But what does he expect?" the man was saying. "Women aren't going to welcome his liberties. Why even my own wife says that they are foolish. I take good care of her, and my children as well. Why do they need his protection and the protection of the law, eh?"
There were a dozen arguments that she wanted to fling at his head, but instead, she took a deep breath and smiled. She knew about the power of her smile, and she knew that it was working.
"Well, unfortunately, not all men are as good or as kind as you," she said looking up at him. "We sometimes make the mistake of saying that the law is for all people, when the truth is it is for the ones who need it the most. I mean, you are a man of wealth and power, but you surely understand that there are those who are cruel or unkind? They might take it out on women as helpless as your wife or your daughters. This is what this law is meant to do, to protect those who can't help themselves."
She could see him nodding, and with any luck, he would claim the view as his own when he went on to speak of it with his friends.
After a few more words with this man, he wandered off.
Rinse and repeat, Viviana thought. And if that man's wife and daughters decide that this law should work for them as well, so be it.
The event was being held at a gorgeous museum opening, one for women artists of Khutal through the centuries. If she hadn't been working' she would have enjoyed it quite a bit. As a matter of fact, even being on the lookout for people susceptible to Mikal's message didn't deter her enjoyment. She had met women at the event who were campaigning for the same thing, and she was warmed in a way she hadn't been in a while.
For her work, she was, by necessity, something of a loner. Now she was working for a cause with others who she quite liked, and the difference was remarkable.
"So how is it going with you?"
Long practice kept her from yelping; instead she only turned to Mikal with a small grin on her face. "You are surprisingly sneaky for a prince," she said, "and fairly well. I only want to scream at about half of the men here."
"Ah, that's how I can tell that this is going well for you. At a bad event, you'll want to strangle them all. I wanted to tell you good job. I can scream my views from the tallest tower, and they won't listen to me. Then, I look around and they're quoting bits of my legislation back to me as if they had written it. I imagine that is your doing?"
Viviana grinned, stroking her finger tip along the buttons of his traditional tunic. "That's the problem with men. You have a good idea, and you want to make sure that everyone knows it’s your good idea. I just care about making them see what a good idea it is in the beginning."
Mikal snorted. "So you don't care if people don't know that Midnight Blue and Carolyn's Closet were your brain children?"
She laughed with delight. The two fashion brands were her babies, in many ways. They were designed to offer fashion at a lower cost, and in some ways, she was fairly certain that they were the most important work that she had ever done.
"Impressive," she said. "You've done your homework. All right, I'm a little guilty then. I definitely want people to know that those are mine. I'm proud of them. And I hope that people remember that this is yours too. You can change a lot with this, and a lot of the women I have spoken to think that this will be something that their daughters and granddaughters will remember as being historic."
Mikal glowed with pride.
"If I can't leave my mark as my brother's second-in-command, then I can do it like this."
Viviana started to answer, but then she realized that a man was trying to make eye contact with her across the room.
"Oh god, oh no," she moaned quietly.
She had talked with him for twenty minutes at the beginning of the evening, and though he seemed interested enough, she realized that his eyes were locked firmly on the region of her chest. Some part of her was amused to realize that it didn't matter what women wore, men would find ways to be creeps about it. The rest of her was just irritated and tired of dealing with it all.
"Ah, him," Mikal said with disgust. "There's one that won't change his mind for love or money."
"I can't loose any more brain cells in talking to him," she begged. "I need to get out of here."
"All right, come along then, beloved, we have a gallery to see."
To her surprise, Mikal swept her away, blowing past the man with a casual wave and an insincere apology.
"I thought we wanted to convince as many people to our side as we can?"
"Well, you don't win fights by exhausting your tools as soon as you get them on the field," he said peaceably.
"So I'm a tool?" Viviana said, amused.
Mikal had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "That came out terribly, didn't it?"
"It kind of did, yeah."
"My apologies. Perhaps you will forgive me if I take you around and show you all the beautiful art?"
"Hmm, I'm still convincible. Let's see."
The art exhibit was a gorgeous collection of art, and a part of Viviana thrilled to see women just like her making their way through the centuries. These women had been the tastemakers and fashion icons of their times, and seeing what remained of their life's work was both breathtaking and humbling.
They paused, touched, in front of a series of miniatures painted by a woman who hadn't seen the outside of her house for twenty years before her death. Despite that, she still used ink that she had made herself to create amazingly delicate works of animals, buildings, and plants that she had never been allowed to see. There was a slightly fevered, dreamlike quality to her work one that struck a chord inside Viviana.
"This is the work of an artist known only as Safir," Mikal read from the small card mounted next to the art. "She was infirm for most of her life, but she still created so much beautiful art."
"She wanted to see the outside world so much," Viviana murmured, looking at one exquisite drawing of a leafy fern. "She never wanted to be so apart from the world."
Without thinking of what she was doing, she stood closer to Mikal, feeling strangely melancholy. If he was surprised by her reaction, he hid it well and instead only wrapped his arm around her.
"That will never be your fate," he said softly.
"You are a wild one, and your wings are strong enough to take you wherever you want. Your life will never be so small."
"But if it ever becomes like that, I hope I have the bravery to do as she did and to make art no matter what."
She looked up into Mikal's eyes, and for a moment, she was simply stunned by the green of them, and the beauty that this man carried with him as if it were an everyday thing. Suddenly, she hoped that if her life ever did shrink, this color would be one of the things that she took away with her.
Mikal leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. It was, she knew, a daring thing to do in the circumstances. There was still a great deal of disapproval of public displays of affection, but something so mild between a man and the woman he was meant to marry would only garner a few gasps, not outright anger.
"I'm being silly, aren't I?" she asked, shaking her head. "I think I'm tired and a bit hungry."
"Not silly at all," he said. "The things we fear should be confronted, or they will end up controlling us. What can I do to help you open up your world a little?"
Viviana laughed, shaking her head.
"Do you think you can get me out of here? I was joking when I said it, but now that I am thinking about it, I would really like to grab some food before I snap and devour the next man who tells me why women don't need free prenatal care."
"Now that I can do," Mikal said with a grin.
***
Just twenty minutes later, they were in Mikal's limousine. Viviana slipped out of her heels, tucking her feet underneath her. The leather seats were buttery soft, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to slump against Mikal. For his part, he draped his arm over the back of the seat so he could hold her more securely, something that touched her in a way she didn't quite understand.
"So how do you think we did?" she asked. "Was I properly besotted? Do you think people took away what we wanted them to take away?"
Mikal laughed at her pert questions. "First, I think we did very well, and yes, I think that people walked away with a better idea of what it is I want to do. After all, I'm not trying to tear down what their families stand for. I'm just trying to make those families more sound, healthier."
Vivian thought for a moment. "You're not answering my question of whether I was besotted enough."
"No, and the truth is that no one would believe me if you were. I have … let's say a slightly irregular reputation when it comes to romance. I don't do very well with women who simply let me run over them, and that means that I've turned away enough girls to make people wonder. You aren't going to give me an inch, and that is why you are perfect for this job."
Vivian grinned at that. Somehow, she liked the idea that Mikal liked a woman who would give him a bit of a challenge. Being a demure little housewife had never appealed to her, and finding a man who didn't care for it either was refreshing.
"You know, you're a catch," she decided. "For the right person, but yeah. The girl who ends up with you is going to be very lucky."
For a moment, she wondered if she felt Mikal tense up next to her, but she dismissed it as being something she had simply imagined. That couldn't be right.
"I hope she thinks so as well," he said, and there was a bit of stiffness in his voice, but then he changed the topic.
"Do you like Ethiopian food? There is a place that I am quite fond of, and I'd like to take you there if that pleases you."
"I don't know if I like Ethiopian food yet, but I am more than willing to give it a shot. Lay on, MacDuff."
***
As he folded a small piece of buckwheat flat bread around an aromatic mouthful of stewed goat, Mikal was wondering if he had made some kind of serious mistake.
"Here," he said to Viviana, who was watching him with avid eyes. "Open your mouth."
With a delicate touch, he popped the morsel into her mouth, making her eyes widen for a moment before they closed with pleasure. He realized that simply watching her take delight in the small bite was enough to arouse him, and he hastily looked away.
"That was delicious," she exclaimed, and either she was unaware of the effect that she had on him or she was politely ignoring it. As perceptive as Viviana was, it could go either way.
"Good," he said honestly. "That's the way people feed their lovers in Ethiopia; it's a gesture of great love and faith."
"Oh, now you have to let me try."
With the deft touch that he had grown to adore, she folded a small bit of carrots and cabbage into the flat bread and offered him the same. The touch of her fingertips against his lower lip sent a sensual shiver through his body.
"Very good," he said, and he wondered if he had put some of what he felt into the words because she blushed a little and looked down.
"Thank you for taking me here," she said as they started in on their meal. "I think I really needed some space. It's funny, I can promote my own things from morning to night, but doing something like this, something that really matters, it's exhausting."
"Maybe it's exhausting because you care so much," he offered. "I saw you speaking to those men, and I could tell that you really do mean what you say. It's inspiring."
She waved his compliments away, shaking her head. "I'm a good actress," she said, a little more soberly than he was expecting. "I have had to sell all manner of things and look like I believed it."
"And you don't believe in what we are doing?" he asked, strangely crushed. He knew that she approved of what they were doing, but he supposed that that didn't mean that she thought he would really pull it off.
She hesitated. In that moment, it felt as if she were making a decision, and he didn't understand what it was. Without thinking of why, Mikal took her hand gently.
"It's all right if you don't," he started, but she interrupted him.
"I do," she said. "Of course I do. Everything you're trying to do here, I believe in it, and I want it to come true. Truly. However, where my suspension of disbelief fails is when I talk to these old blowhards who really do see their wives and their daughters as a kind of property. They believe that they provide for them well enough, and if other men don't provide nearly as well, then that's not their problem. Of course, it's men of all types and nationalities who believe it, but when I'm trying to convince them otherwise … it's a little exhausting."
Mikal laughed, a little relieved. "Well, that's lobbying, I guess," he said, shaking his head. "What you were doing before was more like acting. This is something you believe in, so you're lobbying. It's much less glamorous, doesn't pay nearly as well, and has far fewer perks, I bet."
At his words, she slid her eyes up and down his body, tightening her grip on his fingers a little. "Well, it has one perk that I'm pretty excited about, I'll be perfectly honest …"
Mikal's heart started to beat a little faster. They had been so busy for the last few days that there had been no chance to engage in the more sensual side of their little charade. If he hadn't been busy late into the night, it was Viviana who had a career to manage, albeit one that she was currently running remotely.
"Well, one of the most powerful and enduring traditions is that a man's devotion to his wife's pleasure is something that will reflect very well on him in paradise …"
She laughed a little, shaking her head. "Are you just making that up?"
"Not at all," he murmured. "Many ancient texts speak of how important it is for a man to tend to his wife's pleasure. Man and woman together must run a household, whether that household is the small apartment above the rug maker’s shop or a household as grand as the palace itself. Unless man and wife are in sensual accord, there can be no real success, no real harmony."
"I see," said Viviana, looking intrigued. "What does a husband need to do to ensure his wife's satisfaction?"
"Well, I would think that would depend on the wife …" Mikal leaned in, keeping his voice low. "I suppose she would need to tell him … perhaps in great detail … how she needs to be pleased in order for real harmony to reign througho
ut the household."
"Yes … harmony. That is precisely my goal here."
There was no telling where they would have gone with that if the waiter hadn't returned, all smiles, to make sure that the Prince and his fiancée were having a good dinner. It reminded the two of them that they were in public, at any rate, but throughout the meal, they kept glancing at one another, smiling like teenagers with a secret.
This was an experience that Mikal had never had before, not really. Viviana recalled memories of being an awkward teen nerd, but there was a pleasure to having gotten over that, to learning more about how he had grown, and how she had as well.
He tried not to think about how he felt about all of this being fake. To her, it looked as if it was an amazing game, one that she was having a splendid time playing. If he were honest, he would have to say that it was an excellent game as well, one that he was learning to play even better with her by his side. However, there was a dark shadow cast over the entire thing whenever he remembered that it was temporary.
Mikal ate his delicious food, and he did his best not to remember that this after all, was all going away.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next day there was to be a luncheon that Mikal had warned her would be a little dull to say the least.
"And when I say dull, I mean that we're going to be lucky if we don't end up bored to tears. However, there are a number of people here that I think could be quite helpful if we can just get them on our side …"
"Well, no one likes to listen to or to be convinced of anything at a dull party," Viviana said with a frown. "Why don't you let me try to speed things up a little?"
Mikal might have looked a little dubious, but he nodded his agreement. "All right, just let me know what you need."
"The guest list, guest biographies, and a list of the people you want to get on our side."
Viviana's prompt reply seemed to shock him, making her laugh.
"Seriously, beloved, you don't ask for Viviana Johns unless you want startling productivity …"
She spent the rest of the morning engrossed in the information he procured for her. It wasn't ideal, but it was fascinating, and she now could see the bigger picture. She could see who was related to whom by marriage or business, she could see old feuds and new rivalries.
