The sun felt so much better when, instead of working under it, Sh'yan was allowed to simply lie down and soak up the warmth.

He'd found a courtyard that was relatively isolated—he probably wasn't supposed to be there, since no other servants were, but he figured if he didn't get caught, it would be okay for a little while.

He stretched out against the pavement more fully, trying to soak up the heat from the sun-warmed bricks on the ground as well as the heat from the bright sunlight. He hummed happily, feeling a bit like a cat.

He yawned and felt himself starting to doze off.

"Sh'yan!"

His eyes snapped back open. Drowsiness he scrambled to his feet. He looked up at the woman who called his name and froze. "Queen…Queen Malwe. Your Majesty." He bowed deeply at the waist and didn't move until she put a hand on his shoulder and righted him.

"Did I say you had to get up, Sh'yan? You looked quite comfortable."

"Um…I'm sorry, Your Highness. I'll…leave. I shouldn't have been here." Sh'yan bowed his head and took several steps backwards before turning.

"Where do you think you're going, Sh'yan?"

The stable hand stopped and turned back around to face his queen. Queen Malwe had always been kind to him. He thought for sure that she would simply allow him to leave without any further punishment.

He knew he shouldn't have assumed anything.

The queen pointed to a stone bench facing some exotic purple flowers that Sh'yan didn't recognize. "Sit," she said imperiously. "We're going talk."

Sh'yan sat.

The queen sat down next to him primly, somehow arranging her skirt subtly to that it lay flat. For his part, Sh'yan was glad his job allowed him to wear pants. Robes were difficult to move in.

He looked away from her and looked to the tiny clusters of flowers in front of him. "What did you want to speak about, Your Highness?" he asked tentatively. He knew he should be looking at her, but he couldn't bring himself to. He shouldn't be sitting on the same bench as she was, either, but she had insisted.

"Firstly," she said. "I've heard that you've been talking to Kyave."

Sh'yan felt his mouth go dry. Kyave? He was in trouble because of Kyave? But Kyave was the one who always talked to him! "A little…" he admitted. "Is that a…problem?"

"Of course not. I just want to know what you think of him. And be honest."

Sh'yan bit his lip as he considered that. What did he think of Kyave? It wasn't that he didn't think of Kyave, he did…but what could he say that the queen would want to know?

"He's very kind," Sh'yan said finally. "And very friendly." He was also very pushy, but not in a mean way and Sh'yan didn't know how to explain that.

The queen nodded and looked a little smug. She turned to Sh'yan and asked, "I thought so, too. But that's all you have to say? I was sure you'd have more to say. From what he says, you talk quite often."

"Well…" Sh'yan shrugged helplessly as he tried to think of something else to say. Kyave didn't talk about himself much. He tried to get Sh'yan to talk, or he talked about the weather or something equally pointless. "I don't know. We don't say much. He is quite handsome, I suppose, but…"

The queen laughed as Sh'yan trailed off into silence. It was musical sound, and Sh'yan always loved hearing it, not only because it was pleasant to the ears but because it meant she valued him enough, for whatever reason, to laugh with him. But this…he didn't understand.

"I didn't realize you'd like exotic men," she managed between gasps of laughter. "But I suppose that's for the best." She reached over and ruffled his hair in much the same manner that Kyave always did.

Sh'yan stared at her incredulously. "What?" he finally said.

"Well, it's not as if you're going to find a man here to appreciate you properly."

This always happened. He was never in control of their conversations. And maybe he was never supposed to be, but it would be nice to have some say in one some day.

"I didn't mean to imply that I—"

Queen Malwe waved his protests off. "I know you didn't, Sh'yan. But I know you. You like Kyave, yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. I don't have enough time myself to talk to him."

Sh'yan nodded, but he didn't quite know what he was agreeing to. The queen occasionally asked him for special favors outside of his job, but she was being intentionally vague this time.

"I have to go now. Be careful, be safe, and keep an eye on things for me." She stood up, straightened her clothes, and adjusted her long black hair so the braid she kept it in hung down her back again. "I'll come see you again."

Sh'yan nodded dumbly as she walked off. "Stay safe, my queen," he said quietly, not sure if she could hear him or not. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Keep an eye on things for her. Something was wrong.

Who was Kyave?

A/N: I'm thinking about removing these Sh'yan chapters in a revision of this story, but for now, I'll keep writing them occasionally. That said, does anyone have a good idea for how to sumamrize this story? I can't seem to think of a catchy summary.