Kismet's Kiss: A Fantasy Romance (Alaia Chronicles) (21 page)

But as for Dabir’s question, the sultan of Kad would
never
bend.

Kuramos stared around the vast, empty room. Varene was still an infidel, one who would soon go home to Teganne, to her life there as the Royal Healer…and life would continue as usual here. If Naaz the Vengeful, the Merciful, allowed such grace to him.

He turned and leaned on the window ledge. The parting would be inevitable, and the world would move on as it had for decades upon lonely decades here in the palace of the Great Sultan of Kad.

T
wo halls away from the sultan’s door, Varene finally slowed down. She sagged against a cool white wall and tucked the stray locks of her ponytail behind her ears, remembering as she did the sensual stroke of Kuramos’s fingers on her nape. She swallowed hard and set herself to counting the number of tiles in the mosaic cityscape on the opposite wall. When her breathing slowed, she proceeded toward the Infirmary at a dignified pace.

When she reached the statue of Naaz above the door, Sohad burst from the exit and nearly smacked into her. “Healer! Priya and I have been looking for you.”

Guiltily, she realized the sultan’s quarters didn’t seem a likely place for her to be. “I was just—”

Before she could finish, he grabbed her sleeve and tugged her toward the other end of the hall. “Come. Priya says Prince Tahir is awake!”

“Tahir? How is he?” She clamped his hand.

“I haven’t seen him, I tried to find you first—”

“Get the sultan. He’s in his quarters!”
And don’t ask me why I know.

“I will. We’ll meet you in the prince’s rooms.”

She sped through the halls and the harem courtyard to Tahir’s chambers.

To her surprise, Kuramos and Sohad pounded into the courtyard from the opposite direction, Kuramos in the lead, swift as a falcon. As the three of them raced down Tahir’s hall together, Varene and Kuramos exchanged a wide-eyed look fusing hope and dread.
Please,
Varene prayed to whatever entity might be listening.
Please let Tahir survive.

Kuramos entered the room first, just in time for Varene to view the joyful smile Tahir bestowed on his father. Sulya sat at Tahir’s side, tears streaking her beaming face.

“
Zyru
!” Kuramos infused the word with more love than Varene had thought possible. He knelt at the bedside and reached for his son’s hands. “Are you well, my little lion?”

“Yes,
Abha
!” Tahir, sitting up, nodded several times in his enthusiasm.

The knot in Varene’s chest dissolved in a flood of relief.

Kuramos leaned down and touched his forehead to his son’s with a whisper: “Tahir, my heart is too small for this much joy.”

Varene’s eyes welled at his words. Tears also rolled from Sulya’s jade eyes and down her porcelain cheeks. She slid her manicured hands over her husband’s and squeezed.

Still by the door, Varene curled her fingers into her palms. Watching the beautiful Sulya touch her husband so freely made Varene blush.

A hangnail snagged Varene’s palm. Her skin had grown dry from all her hand-washing, and certainly proved she was no pampered lady.
Which is fine
, she thought.
My life’s work is to mend bodies and heal.
Even as she rubbed the hangnail, she gazed at Sulya’s flawless fingers and felt herself substandard. Then she blushed deeper at her searing jealousy of Kuramos’s wife.

The Healer knew she should examine Tahir before everyone’s hopes soared, but was reluctant to disturb the family’s bonding, especially after her realization. Not knowing what else to do, she fidgeted by the doorway and finally coughed. “May I, O Lord?” she murmured, deliberately using the formal salutation.

“Of course, of course, Healer.” She’d expected him to use her formal title in response—that was only right, under the circumstances—but it still caused a twinge of pain.

Sohad trailed behind her as she moved to the bed. Several more moments passed before the sultan relinquished his son. Eventually he stood and drew the hovering Sulya away with him. His wife looked down at her son’s bright face and bit her lip.

Tahir’s skin held a healthy color and the purple smudges were fading from under his eyes. “You look better,” Varene said. “How do you feel?”

“I rode my stallion,” he said proudly. “The one Father promised me.”

She touched his temples; he was no longer fevered. “You rode him, hmm? That must have been fun.” She lifted his small hand and gently pinched up a fold of skin, then sent her kyrra deeper, searching, testing. “Could you feel the wind on your face, young prince?”

“Yes, and my stallion’s mane, too!” He wiped his other hand across his nose. “It stung me as we galloped. But we went so fast, no one else could catch us.” The thrill of that suffused his face.

“You did, didn’t you?” She smiled down at him, immensely cheered by the signs of his improvement. “So fast that not even the illness could catch you, little racer.”

A gasp behind her made her turn. “So is he…?” Sulya’s eyes pleaded with her.

“He’s well on his way to recovery,” Varene said with a comforting smile. “He’s still dehydrated, but now that he’s awake and refreshed, he’ll be able to drink as much as he needs. Please make sure he does.”

Sulya nodded and stared at her son as if no amount of time with him could ever be enough.

Varene’s gaze flicked to the sultan, whom she was gratified to find watching her. The praise she saw in his eyes warmed her, sustained her.

“This is a gift of the heavens,” Sohad breathed from the foot of the bed, staring down at the boy. “I wasn’t sure…I didn’t know if I could believe in you, Healer,” he admitted. “But this—this must be Naaz’s will.”

“Praise to the Divine Mother!” Sulya shouted. She turned and threw her arms around Kuramos.

Surprised, the sultan held her for a moment, avoiding Varene’s eyes and expecting the flashy embrace to reach a timely end. When it did not, he spotted Sulya peering at Varene and surmised his Sixth Wife had decided to be the center of attention.

He stepped back and took Sulya’s hands in his own, distancing himself. “Our son is going to be well now. You should go to your own bed and sleep. Regain the hours that you’ve lost.”

She shot a look at Varene. “But I want to be here while—”

“Sleep, Sulya.” His voice was firm. “Your work as a mother has paid off. Tahir is here to bask in your love, and now we can be sure he’ll still be here when you are rested.”

The compliments seemed to soothe her ruffled feathers, but she wasn’t yet ready to concede. “Yes, O Lord, I’m sure that’s true. But I—”

“Go rest, Sulya.” His exasperation was rising, and Sulya sensed it, too.

“I hear and obey, O Lord.” Her throaty voice wielded a cutting edge as she departed.

“Healer and Assistant,” he said with an encompassing glance, “you have my leave. Go and check on your other patients.” Sohad, closer to the door, made his obeisance first and exited. Varene followed, valiantly trying to veil her hurt at being dismissed.

“Varene,” Kuramos called softly as she was about to cross the threshold. She hesitated, then turned to him.

He took a deep breath, letting his feelings fill his chest and lift his words. “Healer Varene,” he said, gazing into her blue eyes. “Know that you have wrought a miracle.”

As his heartfelt thanks reached her, her mouth rose, branding her radiant smile into his soul.

When she passed out of the doorway, the room seemed once again bereft, until he looked down at his son and sank to his knees. By Tahir’s bedside, as his youngest child conversed with him and then floated into a healthy, untroubled sleep for the first time in days, the Great Sultan of Kad shed his own tears. They rolled down his cheeks for the healing of his family, and in gratitude for the sorceress who had given him back his cursed soul.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T
o Varene’s joy, the other patients followed Tahir’s lead. The adults stayed in the trance for a few hours longer—children always seemed to heal faster—but by late afternoon they’d all emerged on the mend from their magical sleep.

All three of the medical staff (as Varene had begun to think of herself, Sohad, and Priya) were kept busy bringing sherbet and iced juices to their patients. Their coughs dried up, their fevers shrank, and their skin regained its elasticity. Early that evening Varene fell into bed exhausted but happy, and when she finally woke, Priya was padding in to bring her some sustenance.

Varene sat up, blinking at the bright light and relieved to find the heaviness gone from her limbs. “Mmm, thank you. How long did I sleep?”

“Thirteen hours.” The handmaiden smiled and held out Varene’s linen gown.

Varene rose and slipped the burgundy linen over her head, then tugged it into place with Priya’s help. “Our patients are all doing better?” She slid her feet into the caramel silk slippers that replaced the old black pair lost in the riot.

“Much.” Priya leaned down to tighten the gown’s sidelaces. “Most are keen to leave their pallets and get back to their jobs.”

Varene inhaled, reveling in her success. “That’s good to hear.” She took the bowl of rice pudding with cinnamon and almonds that Priya offered her and sat on the divan to eat. “We can’t let the patients jump back to life as usual, though. They’ve survived, but we still need to determine how the illness spread. I want to make sure there will be no second wave.”
And then I’ll go home.

She sighed, remembering the heated look she and Kuramos had exchanged when she’d mentioned her departure.

Priya began to make the bed. “I’m sure you’d be able to stop another outbreak,” she answered confidently.

“Not if I’m not here.”

The handmaiden paused, hands grasping the edge of the blanket, and peered at her. “You’re not going to stay in Kad?”

“I have a home and a career in Teganne. I have to go back.” And it would be wonderful to see Alvarr and Jilian again, and sleep in her own snug bed high in the castle, waking just as the sun lit the emerald fields and danced along the high forest boughs… Though here in the golden heat of Kuramos’s palace, it was odd how far away her life in Teganne felt.

“Of course.” Priya gave an uncertain smile. “It’s just that Sohad—” she said his name shyly— “told me he was hoping you might teach him some of your techniques.”

“Did he?” The thought pleased her. Sohad, who had literally turned his back on her healing two days before, now wanted to learn more. Kad might despise magic, but Sohad’s interest was a tiny and promising step. “I’d enjoy teaching him, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has the
kyrra
for it. Though if he’d really like to train, perhaps he could come to Teganne and apprentice with me there.”

Priya’s big eyes wavered. “Oh. Well, yes, I’m sure that would be best.”

Varene watched her for a moment, then shot her a sympathetic look. “You don’t want him to go.”

“Of course I do.” Priya resumed her sheet-pulling. “He’s talented. He should have the best training. And that means he should go wherever he can find it.”

“I meant, you don’t want him to go without you.”

Priya’s cheeks flushed and she smoothed a corner of the bed with more vigor than the sheets warranted.

Varene smiled. “I’ve seen the looks you two give each other. He seems to be a good man.”

In the ensuing silence, Priya straightened, looking down at her toes.

“It’s all right,” Varene finally said as she scraped the pudding together for her final spoonfuls. “We don’t need to talk about it. I didn’t mean to pry. Forgive me, please.”

The rosy tint remained in Priya’s cheeks and one hand fluttered up, shyly waving off the apology as she moved to another corner of the bed.

“Well.” Varene cleared her throat. “I need to investigate the cause of the illness. Are you willing to help?”

“Yes, of course. I’m curious about it, too.”

“Good. Perhaps we’ll begin by talking with the sultan’s wives.” Varene stood and laid the bowl on a side table.

“All right, my lady, though most of them are no longer in their beds.”

Varene glanced at her in surprise. “So soon? Where are they?”

“In the
hammam
.” Priya tugged the final wrinkles from the blanket.