Seeing the world broken down into two sides bothered him. All of those countries, as Orinakin described them, were rich with variety, were living and thriving cultures, with fascinating people and busy, diverse societies. And here they were, black versus white, taking sides against each other, all variety stamped out.
“I’ll have it repainted,” Orinakin said.
“What?” Bade asked, startled, realizing that he’d been staring intently at the map in silence for too long. He’d heard what Orinakin had said, and it didn’t make sense; Orinakin had many maps, too many for one man to consult, and surely Orinakin didn’t need to repaint this one. But right away, at the first suggestion, Bade wanted it done, wanted to paint over this stark vision of the world with new life. Such a simple thing, meaningless yet important to him.
“I’ll have it repainted,” Orinakin said. “In full, vibrant color.”
“The way you see it,” Bade said. “The world as you know it.” It was perfect, it was what he’d wanted without even realizing it. Orinakin knew him well, knew him better than he knew himself, and it wasn’t safe to explore how that made him feel. Quickly scanning the room, he asked, “Do you have a record of your travels?”
“I have notes,” Orinakin said. “Journals, memories.”
“You should have a map,” Bade said. “One you mark. Maybe you could paint a colored dot for everywhere you spend the night. A different color when you spend the week.”
“A visual representation,” Orinakin murmured, sitting on the edge of his desk. “It would help me, I think, to see where I go most often, and where I don’t visit often enough.” Gazing into Bade’s eyes, he said, “I don’t want any nation to feel neglected.”
“I know,” Bade said, and he really wanted to kiss Orinakin on the mouth, to sink his fingers into Orinakin’s hair and - - Orinakin’s cheeks were turning pink, and Bade knew that he should start multiplying numbers, but he couldn’t help himself. He loved how sincere Orinakin was, how dedicated to helping all people, how determined to be fair. “You’re young,” he said, “you’re still learning. I know that the gods have blessed you, and that they constantly help you, but you aren’t infallible, and neither were your ancestors. Someone was bound to overlook something, at some point in time. What matters is that you care, that you try to improve.” This whole room was purple, like Orinakin’s apartment, and Bade knew that he’d miss this color when he went home. Maybe he could have his bedroom in the castle redecorated; no one would have to know why.
“You make me want to improve,” Orinakin said quietly. “I want to do my best for Kudorin, and for my people, and because of all the good that I know I can do. But you’ve shown me that there’s too much overlooked promise in the world, and I want to seek it out. We can’t dismiss the quiet corners of the globe.” Someone knocked at the door, and Orinakin frowned, then blinked and said, “Oh!” Looking to the door, he called, “Yes, thank you!” before he turned to Bade. “I’m sorry, I have to go. We’re meeting with Kudorin. I’ll see you at dinner?”
“All right, yes,” Bade said, but he was disappointed. He was, he’d admit it, jealous of Orinakin’s time.
“You’ll show me your map after dinner?” Orinakin asked, collecting a few papers. “I’d like to see it.”
“Of course,” Bade said, as they walked to the door together. “What was your festival gift?” he asked, opening the door.
Orinakin laughed. “The funniest thing,” he said. “A book of foreign phrases. About as useful to me, now, as the map you got.”
“Which languages does it have?” Bade asked, curious.
“About a dozen of them,” Orinakin said. “I’ll show it to you after dinner. You can keep it, if you’d like.”
He wanted the book, wanted to say yes, but he had to face the truth. “I don’t think that I’ll ever have occasion to use it,” he admitted, regret solidifying in his chest.
Empathy was visible on Orinakin’s face before he smiled encouragingly and said, “When Tiko’s king, and hosting all of the ambassadors who visit to learn more about this strong nation reestablishing its power, it might be nice for you to know how to greet them in their native tongues.”
And that was exactly why Bade really wanted to kiss Orinakin’s-
Blushing, Orinakin said, “I mustn’t be late.”
“Hand,” Bade blurted. “I was going to, um, hand.” Now he was the one blushing. Hand? That wasn’t believable at all!
Grinning like he just couldn’t stop himself, Orinakin said, “Of course. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Watching Orinakin go, Bade wished that he’d wear his robe less often. It really obscured the view.
