A few days later, the four of them were finishing a picnic brunch, Vade sprawled on his back and moaning that he’d eaten too much, Selorin teaching Bade how to braid Orinakin’s hair in a certain Anorian style, when one of the servants came from the house with a note.
Accepting the note, Orinakin glanced at it; he dismissed the servant with thanks and handed it to Selorin, giving Bade a reassuring smile.
Bade, of course, wasn’t reassured at all. “What is it?” he asked, leaning in to read over Selorin’s shoulder.
“It’s fine,” Selorin said dismissively, handing it to him. “Orinakin and I have to go to the palace for a satacon, but we’ll be back tonight.”
“A what?” Bade asked, reading. The last lines of the note, which was from Desin, read: Leave Bade and Vade where they are. You’ll be back at Satatunin just after sundown.
“Satacon,” Orinakin said. “That’s when the seven of us meet in an official capacity.”
“We’d better leave now,” Selorin said, glancing at the sun.
“We’d better change first,” Orinakin said.
“I like what you have on,” Vade said, sitting up and voicing Bade’s thoughts. “It’s good to see you in regular clothing.”
“We’ll be fine like this,” Selorin told Orinakin. “With shoes on,” he added, glancing down and curling his pretty, naked toes.
“It’ll take me only a minute to get our robes while you have the carriage brought around,” Orinakin said.
“Our robes?” Selorin repeated. Vade grinned. “I didn’t bring mine.”
“You didn’t bring - - how could you not bring your robes?” Orinakin asked.
“I’m on vacation,” Selorin said. “Vacation, Orinakin, as in, I’m not at work. I left my robes, like my office, behind me.”
“You should take your robes wherever you go,” Orinakin said.
“In case I need to hear a case between the trees and the grass?” Selorin asked.
“Because you never know what will happen, and you need to be prepared for all eventualities,” Orinakin said. “You’re Selorin A Diki, and you should be able to dress like it.”
“This is how Selorin A Diki dresses,” Selorin said, spreading his arms to show off his scandalously tight pants and long-sleeved half-shirt. “I can prove my title if I need to, and our citizens will heed my word whether I’m in my robes or out of them.”
“They’d probably prefer you out of them,” Vade said. Bade had to agree; those robes hid far too much. His current attire would hold anyone’s attention.
“Fine,” Orinakin said. “Then I’ll get my robe while you get the carriage, and-”
Bade coughed.
Vade stared at him. “You didn’t!”
“What?” Orinakin asked. “What did you do?”
Casually picking at the grass, Bade cleared his throat and said, “Your robe isn’t here.”
While Selorin burst into laughter, Orinakin asked, “Then where is it?”
“It’s in your closet,” Bade said, studiously looking elsewhere. “In the palace.” This really wasn’t how he’d expected things to go. He’d asked Orinakin what he should pack, and from Orinakin’s description, there’d been no chance that anything formal would come up. He’d liked the idea of a relaxing little vacation, and he’d wanted Orinakin to relax and enjoy it without worrying about work, so he’d discreetly unpacked Orinakin’s robe, which Orinakin had seemed to order the servants to pack simply as a routine matter of course, automatically and without thinking. He hadn’t guessed that Orinakin might actually need it!
“Good for you,” Selorin said, patting him on the back. “You did the right thing.”
“I don’t know why you need robes, anyway,” Vade said. “The pharaoh’s always barefoot and showing as much skin as a-” Bade smacked him before he could finish that sentence, and he closed his mouth.
“Selorin wears robes because all of the other judges do, and it was determined that the royal high judge should wear a robe, as well, to show respect for that tradition, to put himself in league with them,” Orinakin said.
“Orinakin wears a robe so he won’t have to worry about dressing according to each culture,” Selorin said. “It also keeps him respectable in places where showing the wrong part of the body is a grave insult.”
“The other judges only wear one robe, and Selorin wears five, but that tradition goes back several centuries,” Orinakin said.
“It’s a ridiculous tradition, and I abhor it,” Selorin said.
“Remin wears a robe because all priests do,” Orinakin said.
“The three of us have robes because of what we do,” Selorin said. “Desin doesn’t have one because farmers don’t wear robes. Artists wear whatever they want. Priests don’t get to wear just anything, so neither does Remin.”
“We’d better go,” Orinakin said.
“Agreed.” Rising gracefully, Selorin tousled Vade’s curls and dropped a kiss on the top of Bade’s head. “Behave yourselves until we return.”
“We’ll be back tonight,” Orinakin said, kissing Bade.
Needing to get it in before Orinakin left, Bade said, looking into his eyes, “I’m sorry that I unpacked your robe.”
“It’s all right,” Orinakin said, kissing him again. “You meant well. Good-bye,” he said to Vade, getting up.
“Bye,” Vade said.
Bade watched them go, walking away together with the same graceful, confident, long-legged stride, Selorin reaching over to undo Orinakin’s braids.
