Chapter Eleven

When Aradishir woke a few hours later, however, it was to a summons from his mother to attend her before dinner. Which was…one hour away. Damn it. "You should have woken me."

"It won't take long to dress you, we have everything ready," Merza said, dragging him out of bed, kissing him quick and hard, and then dragging him off to wash up. Once he was clean, Heydar and Javed got him dressed quickly, precisely as promised. His clothes were forest green with black and gold embroidery, with gold and jade jewelry, his hair woven into fancy braids that were woven together and pinned up.

"Did my mother give any indication what she wanted to talk to me about?"

"Unfortunately not, though the messenger hinted it might have to do with Her Highness."

Dread knotted Aradishir's stomach. His mother had noticed he was smitten and was going to give him a dressing down. Wonderful. He just loved being utterly and completely humiliated right before he had to go and be in public all night.

"Shir, why do you suddenly look like you're going to your funeral?"

Aradishir just shook his head, not certain he could voice his fears without completely falling apart. Maybe his mother would excuse him from dinner after she was done reprimanding him. A reprimanding he deserved, but that wouldn't make it hurt less.

The walk down the hall to his mother's chambers was both the longest and shortest walk he'd ever made. He nodded to the guards, who knocked for him—and the doors opened almost immediately, as though Tasha, one of his mother's concubines, had been waiting right there by them. "Shir, come in, come in. I was about to come find you."

"I'm sorry, I was asleep and my concubines were too kind to wake me."

"It wasn't worth disturbing your sleep," Fahima said as she crossed the room to hug him and kiss his cheek. "Not yet, anyway."

Anxiety so strong he was starting to feel nauseous, Aradishir replied, "What's wrong, Mother?"

"Sit, sit," she said, motioning him to her sitting area, where wine already waited for them. "It's about Princess Relanya."

"I see," Aradishir said quietly. Exactly as he feared, but he couldn't bring himself to admit, just continued to play oblivious. "Is she all right?"

"She was cornered today by several women who didn't like some foreign upstart swooping in to steal their crown prince."

Anxiety turned to fury. "What did they do! Who did it? How dare —"

"Sit down," Fahima said with the barest hint of smile. "All is well, it was grossly inappropriate, but the women have been identified and are currently being punished—severely. Princess Relanya is fine, mostly just hurt that she's being so poorly received." Her mouth tightened. "We knew there would be protests to a foreign princess—one with a child, no less—but we were not expecting this level of backlash. I need the whole family to give full support to her tonight, show the court and everyone else in attendance at dinner that she is one of us, she belongs here, and we all will flourish by her presence. You are closer to her than everyone, even Bakhti right now, so I wanted to speak with you especially. Much of the court has a soft spot for you, though you never notice, and the more they see you supporting her and this marriage, the more who will change their minds."

This was so very far from what he'd expected, Aradishir didn't know what to say, or even think for that matter. "Of course, Mother. It would be my honor. Her Highness is wonderful, and will make an excellent queen. I'll make them all realize it, no matter what it takes." He didn't wait for Merza to serve him, simply picked up the wine in front of him and tossed it back.

It was going to be an even longer meal than he'd feared, but for Relanya he would do anything and everything. "You're sure she's all right? To have come this far only to be…"

"She is used to this sort of nonsense, believe me," Fahima replied. "She's dealt with worse . Being the widow of a traitor is no easy thing, and she was an outlier in her family to begin with, so being picked on by insecure, petty children masquerading as grown adults is nothing new."

That just made him angrier. Relanya didn't deserve to be treated so, and she certainly didn't deserve to be used to it. She was a princess, and in all the ways that mattered, not simply by birth. He'd make her his princess in a moment, and do and give everything her heart desired, as was proper and right.

But she was meant to be queen, and she should be queen, and he would make the whole of the court suffer miserably if that was what it took for them to behave.

"Don't make them suffer too much, darling," Fahima said, but there was only affection and approval in her eyes. "Come along, then. Bakhti will be escorting her to dinner, and I want the rest of us there waiting so all eyes are on them." She rose with a grace that could only be envied, never replicated, and Aradishir rose to join her, their harems gathering around them, bodyguards in front and behind as they headed off through the palace to the waiting banquet.

At the banquet table, he took up his usual place directly opposite his parents. He always hated having his back to the room, but there was no helping it, and as the youngest that was his place. Bakhtiar would have his usual place on the side of the table to their father's right, and a space had been set for Relanya to sit there as well, with both of his concubines between them. His sister and her husband would have their usual spot, and the remaining spaces occupied by various concubines. A family dinner and show of support—and force.

It certainly wouldn't hurt people to be reminded that amongst the concubines were: a guard, a thief, an assassin, a pirate, a temple duelist, and—perhaps most notorious of them all—a foreign general who'd chosen their father over becoming royalty himself. In summary, it would be stupid in the extreme to attempt to harm Relanya or anyone else. Far more likely, people would simply make snide remarks and the like, but this would also at least force them to whisper or save their mean words for later.

Servants brought wine, a bit earlier than usual, and nobody else in the hall had been served, but that was precisely the kind of move his mother would make. It was a soft, pale wine, only slightly stronger from the extremely mild ones given to older children to start teaching them how to properly drink wine.

He'd just finished his first cup when voices rose, conversation increasing, a small gong sounding to announce the arrival of the crown prince. Aradishir itched to turn and look, but that would be rude, turning away from the table to gawk. Even if he would happily stare at Relanya all day every day and never grow bored.

Moments later Bakhtiar and Relanya took their seats, and Aradishir smiled warmly in greeting. "Good evening, Your Highness. I am sorry you did not have a very good day."

"It's improved significantly since my unfortunate conversation with some of your noblewomen."

"I'm happy to hear it." The starter wine came then, along with appetizers. When they all had their food and the fresh wine had been served, Relanya said, "How was your day, Your Highness?"

"Fruitful, I may finally be making progress on my battle. Time will tell." As slavery wasn't really a subject for dinner, Aradishir shifted the topic to other subjects, and from there everyone else joined in, keeping the conversation lively and flowing.

As the first course was taken away and the second course brought, fragrant meats, rice, vegetables, and more, Aradishir asked, "Have you arranged a new tour of the city? One that might come with less disruption."

"Disruption?" Bakhtiar asked. "What do you mean?"

Jahanara gave him a look of disbelief. "Did you not hear that assassins attacked them?"

"When exactly would I have heard that?" Bakhtiar asked. "While I was throwing up every ten minutes from food poisoning nobody could pin down? While I was unconscious because the pain in my leg combined with the aforementioned poisoning was making life literally unbearable? Or when I struggled to get back here as soon as possible anyway so nobody was further burdened with my duties?" He clearly had more to say, but bit it back at a look from their mother, scowling at his food instead.

Jahanara looked ashamed. "You're right, I'm sorry, that was stupid."

Bakhtiar nodded tersely. "What happened?"

"They followed us through the city and used a sandstorm to try and get the better of us. Erfan was injured, badly but not severely, and your princess here is far more capable than me in self-defense. She was quite impressive."

"It's standard for most of us who dwell on the ice, as the predators there are few but extremely deadly," Relanya replied. "Your team was most impressive."

"Well, hopefully Bakhti can offer you a quieter tour. You should be certain he takes you to the Grand Theatre. Mother and Father sometimes have the troupe come to perform for us here in the palace, but seeing a play in the theatre proper is always a treat."

"It was," Shah said wistfully. "I only got to do it twice before I was bound to the palace permanently. Thankfully they are willing to perform here."

Willing. Like anyone would refuse a request—and the obscene pay—from the king and queen. "Do you have a favorite play? I've always been fondest of Follow the Star ."

"I love that one," Relanya said. "We don't get many foreign plays in Penna, but that is one of them, and I've watched it many times."

Well, that was the greatest thing he'd ever heard, and it was all he needed to launch into an avid discussion of the play with her, a conversation that carried through the second course and most of the third, before his mother gave him a warning look, and he reluctantly moved on to other things that would include everyone else at the table.

Throughout, Bakhtiar was quieter than usual. He conversed with the rest of them, paid attention to Relanya, but anyone could see his actions were rote, not heartfelt. Maybe he was simply in too much pain to focus properly.

As dinner wound down, the last of the platters and drinks taken away, Bakhtiar made to stand—then abruptly collapsed again, wincing and falling against Kurosh.

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" Fahima asked.

Sitting up again, Bakhtiar gave a sharp jerk of his head. "Not really. My leg is killing me. Shir, would you do me a favor and escort Princess Relanya for me? Your Highness, I apologize I cannot do it myself."

"Of course. I hope you start to feel better soon, Bakhti. I know it's unlikely, but try to stay in your room tomorrow and just rest , hmm?"

Bakhtiar gave him a grateful smile, and then a couple of guards helped him up, and his concubines escorted him away, no doubt to take a secret passage back to his room, a shorter and quieter journey.

At his mother's nod of dismissal, Aradishir rose and bowed to Relanya before offering a hand. She smiled and accepted it, rising gracefully to her feet with his support, and then settled her hand in the crook of his elbow. They walked in step easily, concubines, handmaidens, and guards around them.

"So what are you up to tomorrow?"

"His Highness is escorting your mother and me to the temple. I'm quite excited. Charity work means a lot to me, but for my family and most nobility, it's simply a chore done for appearance's sake and with minimal effort. He also said he would take me to see the aviary kept in another temple."

"Lasharana Temple, on the opposite side of the city, built about thirty years after Kelestar Temple." Kelestar had always been bound to the royal family, even older than the palace itself, older even than the city. "Kelestar has birds too, but not nearly as impressive as Lasharana. You'd like that temple. It's devoted to a minor but important demigoddess of hidden water."

"How charming. I've never heard of a god so specific, but in a place where water is rare and precious, hidden caches of it would be invaluable and nigh spiritual indeed. I cannot wait to see it." She started to say something else, then only closed her mouth with a snap and gave a bare shake of her head, as though reprimanding herself or trying to dislodge a thought. "Thank you for the escort, Your Highness. It's a charming practice I've already grown quite fond of. " She smiled softly, slowly let go of his arm, and slipped away into her room.

Aradishir stifled a sigh and trudged back to his own room, ignoring the weight of his concubines' unspoken words.

Back in his room, he washed and dressed for bed.

"You could say something," Merza said at last. "I think it might go better than you think. Nobody is taking well to the idea of her as queen, and strategically, it might be wise to have her still marry into the family but not as crown princess. I saw their faces tonight. Everyone is thinking it."

"What about Relanya? She's a person, not a pawn. She came here to be queen, her family is expecting her to be queen, and I doubt she'd feel terribly happy about broken promises and being thrown to the youngest and least important child."

"You are vitally important, Shir," Heydar said quietly. "You do not get the attention and admiration you deserve, but those who do the hardest work seldom do. I think Relanya looks at you longingly when she thinks no one else is looking, and would be far more amenable to the change in marriage arrangements than you think or want to hope for. Suffering in silent misery never helped anyone. I know that better than most. You should talk to her and then to your parents."

"I agree," Javed said. "All this keeping feelings bottled is hurting everyone. Bakhti, who clearly doesn't want the marriage, but is pushing anyway because it's his duty, and he does like to make people happy, even if that doesn't always seem obvious. Relanya, who is seeking freedom from a life that clearly made her miserable, and you."

Aradishir drew a deep breath and let it out slowly before finally saying, "All right. I can't really argue when you keep speaking so much sense. And what did you say before? If all I get is rejection, at least that is closure. Do you really think she…"

"I think she is just as enamored of you as you are of her," Javed said. "Who wouldn't be?"

"Plenty of people," Aradishir muttered.

Merza smirked. "I think she's looking forward to making babies with you."

"You be quiet!" Aradishir hissed, while Heydar and Javed laughed because they were all brats forever encouraging each other. "I—"

He stopped as a loud, pounding knock came at his door, the kind that spoke of urgency. Heydar crossed the room to open it and admitted city guards who appeared to be escorting a frantic looking man dripping blood from a cut on his forehead and another across his left arm. He also had an arm across his stomach, but at least there didn't seem to be blood there.

The man also looked close to either collapsing or doing something reckless and drastic. Who in the world was this?