The lying liars

The lies.

It had always been about the lies. A bad liar was a welcome respite in a room full of expert liars. Even his clothes were nowhere near perfectly worn despite how expensive they looked. Everyone else in the room was busy conversing. The liars should learn to mind their business once in a while. They were supposed to be powerful men, men and women accustomed to command. Being among the people in this room required a certain level of perfection in subterfuge something the man before me lacked thoroughly.

“ what did you say your name was?” I asked, fighting hard to keep the amusement out of my voice. The court of Rames was a perilous place. Especially perrilous to the innocent. 

“ my name is Lingua. I- I came to see you today.” He said, stumbling over his words. 

“ Mister Lingua, what request have you of me?” I calmly asked but my words caught the ears of a Countess behind him. The Countess was not known for minding her own business so as expected, she leaned closer and spoke.

“ Princess Miniqa, are you okay?” she asked in a ‘is this man brewing a scandal’ tone. The look she gave Lingua might as well have labeled him gabbage. 

“ Not at all,” I told her, keeping my tone elated. “ His lordship and I are just discussing a trade alliance. Aren’t we, Lord Lingua?” the man in question gave both of us a confused look before hurredly affirming my lie. It was how the Court of Rames worked, tell three lies for every lie you are told. i would never trust a courtier but the liars had an affinity towards me so I played them like a guitar, not that they made it hard. 

“ okay… “ the countess said with her honey coated voice almost giving away her indignation. She would have to work on the slight tremor in her tone or it might quite literally have been the death of her.

As the countess went back to her business, I gestured to Lingua to follow me to the balcony. 

“ Princess, I know of your illness. I know it has no cure. I can help you.” he said in his uneven voice. He looked my age, albeit taller. Someone should have taught him basic lying skills by now. There was something beautiful about his purity, about the way he had to try so hard to lie, the way he failed at every fakery he attempted. Maybe that is why I found myself snapping at him even though my temper was not something I kept on a short leash.

“ Lingua.” I said his name with a little more venom that I should have. It went through my head that my mother would have stirred in her grave if she heard that I had lost my temper over a few words but that is how deeply I my illness wounded me. “ You. Can. Joke. About anything else but do not dare insert my illness into those derailed little games that whoever sent you plays.” He evidently shivered, taking a deliberate step back at my little outburst. There was something in his eyes that gnawed at my heart. Loosing your temper is not far from loosing your head.

I was about to apologise when Lingua started to blabber, unconsciously rubbing at his raven coloured hair. “ it is the Deciever… he appeared to me, told me to give you the cure or else he would let my mother die. She is so sick that I doubt she will make it to tomorrow.” As he delivered the last statement, his statement, his tone sky rocketed rapidly from defensiveness to pain. It was difficult to imagine that pain of such depth lived in his honest disposition. 

The seasoned liar in me recognized the truth in his words but the skelptic in me that Had grown up in the court warned me viciously not to believe him. Considering that my illness would only allow me a few weeks at most, the latter was not a luxury I could afford. After a moment of prolonged silence, I decided to give it time. Three hours among the courtiers would give me the clarity I needed.

The deceiver was a spirit that often appeared to people. In most ways, it could be considered a good spirit because it helped to restore balance when the court went off track. Some people considered it bad because the balance was restored at any cost. The court of Rames probably needed balance concidering the corruption among the courtiers.

“ where is the cure?.” 

He extended his palm, revealing a vial of green liquid. “ this is the cure.”

I said to the man as I walked back to the party.

I was midway to the party when I ran straight into Prince Dimitri. He was visiting from another kingdom but had extended his stay by a month.

“ why is the moon so bright tonight? Wait, that was the rock in your necklace.” He said by way of flattery, grinning like a cat. He knew that in court, we keep flatterers at arms length. Compliments were pleasant… as pleasant as a sirens song. The first time someone gives you a complement, you should be thankful.

“ its almost as big as your reputation.” I say, hinting at his recent scandal with a countess. 

“ the romours are knee deep. I guess they told you I am crazy too.” He laughed. “ I swear I do not like the drama, it loves me.” He combed a hand through his slick hair. His clothes looked expensive, almost too expensive. “I must confess, you look radiant tonight.”

The second time someone gives you a compliment, be warned. “ get to the point, Dimitri.” I said. My temper seemed to be on a short leash since I met Lingua.

His friendly expression disappeared in a millisecond as he leaned in closer “I know you are sick and I know all manner of chaos would erupt if the courtiers were to know that you will be dead in a week.” He spoke in a hushed whisper. 

“ how do you know of my illness?” I asked, unable to kee the venom from my voice. A few people glanced in our direction but quickly looked away.

“ the deceiver sent me to you. That flare in temper means you are fading, I know you can feel it.” he pushed a vial into my hand casually. 

I looked into his retreating back as he dissapered into the crowd.

That evening, I sat in my empty room staring at Lingua’s red vial and Dimitri’s green vial. Who is to be trusted between a good liar and a bad liar? I knew which vial to drink from.

The next morning, both Lingua and Dimitri came to my chambers at my request but Dimitri’s satisfied smirk dropped immediately his eyes met mine. Lingua on the other hand seemed genuinely happy to see the paleness gone from my face. 

“ wondering why I’m not dead, Dimitri?” I asked as he evaded eye contact. You can never trust a good liar. A bad liar, however, is another story