Kismet's Kiss: A Fantasy Romance (Alaia Chronicles) (31 page)

“Mmm. You should join a harem. Then your problem would be solved.”

“You’re kidding.” Varene opened one eye and peered over the pillow at the other woman. “Sorry, I meant no offense. It’s just not something I could do. Anyway, how could a harem be a solution? I mean, sure, there’s a man, but you all have to share him.”

“Goodness, Kuramos would be exhausted if he were solely responsible for all of us! He’s a remarkably virile man, but men do have their limits.” Whereas Zahlia sounded like she had none at all. “That’s where I come in.”

“So you’re his…designated second?”

“Indeed.”

“Is that common in Kad?”

“Absolutely. Life would be boring without it. All those wives, just one husband. Why should we suffer?”

Varene tapped a finger on her chin. “How open is this arrangement? I mean, what if one of the wives doesn’t desire women? Are other men allowed to…”

Zahlia gave her a droll look. “Do you think that’s something our sultan would accept? I’m not such a fool as to try it. He lets his wives ‘share’, as you so quaintly put it, amongst ourselves, if we like. But no, he’d never allow another man to be with us. After all, we are his wives, and he is the sultan of Kad. He couldn’t allow it and not lose honor. Honor is the paramount virtue for any Kaddite, but a thousand times more for our sultan!”

“I don’t understand.” Varene frowned. “You may, um, enjoy yourselves with the other wives, but not with other men. Yet you were offering to let me…I mean, you
would
be offering him, hypothetically, if…”

“Men are men. And Kuramos is the sultan. If he wishes to dally with a woman, why should I object?”

“You’re his wife, for one thing!”

“Feh. He deserves his playtime. Not that all the others would agree with that.” Zahlia’s lips took a sour twist. “We had…a system, shall we say. A successful one. When Kuramos forged another political alliance and a new wife joined us, she would find her place in the system, and somehow it always worked out. Until Sulya.” Zahlia waggled her finger again. “Now
there’s
another woman who won’t share.”

“Yes, she’s…possessive. Bristly.”

“You noticed.” The sultana chuckled.

“I came here to help,” Varene mused, “but I swear she detested me from the moment I set foot in Kad.”

“Sulya was raised to be the only woman who mattered to her husband. She has a sixth sense for rivals.”

“I’m
not
…” Varene began, then stopped herself. Wasn’t she? In a hypothetical world in which Kuramos was single and was free to be with her, she’d be in a very different state of mind. Because she
did
want him. She wanted to take him to her bed and do all manner of things with him, and have them done to her…

And that was the problem. They weren’t living in that fantasy world. He was already married.
Married
. Even if there were six wives, even if they were fine with “sharing” of sorts, Varene could never agree to that. She would want him to herself. And she couldn’t begrudge Sulya the right to her own husband.

“Royal Healer?” Priya’s tentative voice rose from beyond the room.

“She’s in here,” the sultana called. “Please enter.”

Priya obeyed, and gave a deep bow to the sultana, then addressed Varene. “My lady, more patients have arrived, if you’re willing to see them.”

“Yes, of course.” She rose from the bed with an apologetic gesture to Zahlia.

“Too bad.” The sultana swung her graceful legs to the floor. “Perhaps we can do this again sometime. The sherbet, I mean.” Her eyes twinkled.

Varene laughed. “I’d enjoy that. The sherbet was divine, as was the company.” Feeling playful, she followed Priya’s suit and performed her first Kaddite bow.

Zahlia made a graceful flourish of her hand, setting her bracelets jingling, and winked. “Be off with you both. I think I’ll go find Rajvi.”

As Varene and the handmaiden departed for the Infirmary, Zahlia’s coy voice sauntered after them: “Remember my suggestion, dear Healer.”

“I doubt I could ever forget it!” Varene called back.
But there’s no point in heeding it—my time in Kad will be over soon, and I don’t need that kind of trouble.

P
riya had not been quite forthright. She’d said only that “more” patients had arrived—but the Infirmary’s main room was packed with eleven of them, either sick or injured, some with relatives in tow, and all curious about the real nature of the sorceress in the sultan’s palace.

Sohad had given Varene an overwhelmed and thankful glance as she’d walked in. It took three hours to work through all the patients, with him bandaging or sewing up those least injured and Varene concentrating on those who most needed the investigative or strengthening aid of her magic.

When the last patient departed, she straightened and pressed her hands to her aching lower back. “Well done!” she told Sohad and Priya. “Efficiently handled, and every one of those people will mend.”

“We make a good team.” Sohad gave a pleased nod, then slid his gaze to Priya, who smiled.

“We do,” Varene agreed.
A shame we won’t be one for long.
She leaned back and stretched. “What I want right now is a hot bath and a good chair.” Sohad echoed her with a wistful groan.

Priya laughed. “I’ll come help you, my lady.”

“No, no,” Varene said. “I’ll be fine. Shoo. You two go enjoy yourselves.”

Priya shook her head, and her mouth took that firm line that indicated her backbone was in gear. “Duty—and friendship—first, my lady. You’ve worked long and hard and deserve some pampering. Let’s go.” She took Varene’s elbow and strode toward the door.

Varene chuckled as she allowed herself to be led. “My orders are noted.” She and Priya waved goodbye to Sohad, who looked distinctly disappointed to be abandoned.

Once they were out of earshot, Priya began to giggle. “He needs to know I’m not
always
available to him.”

“Ah.” Varene and the handmaiden shared an us-against-them look. “Excellent strategy.” She wondered if that would work with Kuramos.

No!
She gave herself a mental shake.
You’ll soon leave for home.
The last thing she needed was to become more entangled.

She turned into her quarters with Priya just behind her and her mind on the evening’s pleasures—a hot, solitary bath, an early bed, and a restful night of sleep. Something new rested at the foot of the bed: a trunk of burnished wood with a cascade of orange blossoms and red roses spilling down the sides.

Uh-oh.

“Ooh!” Priya said, staring. “How beautiful!”

Beautiful, yes…but Varene eyed it sideways. The trunk could only have come from the sultan—and therefore whatever was in it would likely twine her further with him and with Kad.

“Don’t you want to open it, my lady?”

Priya’s surprise at the delay finally nudged Varene into motion. She lifted the armful of blossoms and laid them on the bed, trying not to be charmed by their heavenly scents and failing miserably. The trunk’s lid was carved with a sun above desert hills, and rose on hinges smooth as melted butter.

Silken garments shimmered in the light of the late afternoon sun—golden veils, skirts in royal purple and champagne, blueberry and garnet, cherry and snow. Slim-fitting pants in mulberry and custard and licorice. Kaddite brassiere tops to match, encrusted with pearls and emeralds and sapphires of every shade. In the center of them all lay a bundle of swan-white silk tied with a string of glimmering black pearls.

She untied the pearls and released the bundle, its many layers as soft as butterflies’ wings against her fingers. Beneath them, nestled in a final layer of silk so sheer Varene could already see the sparkles, coiled a necklace and earrings of purple sapphires and diamonds, sparkling in the warm light like faerie stars.

She held the necklace to her throat, and Priya’s mesmerized intake of breath matched her own.

“I’ve never seen such lovely things, my lady. Not on the courtiers’ ladies, or the ambassadors’…not even on any of the sultanas.”

Varene let the necklace dangle from her cupped hands like molten wishes.
They’re only gems, just clothing—merely THINGS
, she admonished herself. Nothing she hadn’t been around before. But in truth, she’d never seen the like—or felt anything as exquisite. And the fabrics of Kad were as seductive as its sultan. She let the garments slide across her fingers, her wrists, her arms, and a sensual thrill rose from her awakened skin.

Beneath the bundle of the necklace lay a note of crisp parchment and calligraphy. Absurdly, her hands shook as she picked it up.

To the Royal Healer who has given me back my world, I give all the colors of Kad. May she wear them in health and in joy for as long as the sun and the moon dance across the sky.

Tonight my family will also dance. We will celebrate those who passed through the Sands of the Dead to sleep at Naaz’s feet, and the woman who helped others to heal and to live. You and your two assistants will be the guests of honor. Be ready a half-hour before sunset.

She handed it to Priya, who read it with entranced eyes, then glanced out the window. “Not much time left, my lady.”

“Time enough to get clean.” She turned to the handmaiden and made a shooing motion. “Now go get ready, yourself! You’re a guest of honor, too.”

The handmaiden hesitated. “I said I would help you, and that’s my duty.”

“I appreciate your duty, but you’ve more than fulfilled it today, and I’m quite capable of washing myself and getting ready for an evening. So go. Go!”

A tentative smile bloomed on Priya’s lips.

Varene gave her wrist a quick squeeze of friendship, and of thanks. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Then she was alone. She loosened the side-laces of her gown and pulled it over her head, and her shift as well, and immersed herself in the deep bath. Steam curled over her, rising to the ceiling in elegant swirls.

Friendship…what a welcome surprise. Without even realizing it, she’d made new friends among Kuramos’s household—Priya and Zahlia, Maitri and Rajvi, too. Mishka was a shy delight, and Tahir a joyful miniature of his father. Burhan was a true gentleman and a credit to Kuramos as well, and though she knew little yet of Taleen and Nireh, she liked them, especially the reserved Taleen. And the self-involved but kindhearted Gunjan made her laugh. The only sore spot was Sulya.

But of all of them, only Zahlia knew of Varene’s feelings for Kuramos. Sulya suspected them, and her enmity about that was blazingly clear. What would the others think if they discovered the truth?

She dipped her chin in the water and squeezed her eyes shut. If she were one of Kuramos’s wives, she wouldn’t wish to know her husband was eyeing another woman, and that the woman was eyeing him back.

It would be best for everyone involved if Varene left, and soon. She could start the long fydd journey back tomorrow. She’d cured all those she could and discovered the origin of the illness so it could be prevented in the future. Truly, what reason was there to stay?

For him
, whispered an inner voice. A selfish voice, surely, because to do as it urged would injure those around her. Zahlia might not mind, but Sulya certainly did. And what of the other wives, and his children?

She ducked lower in the water, making soft bubbles with her mouth. She shouldn’t have been so honest with Zahlia. What if the sultana told the others? Varene’s job was to heal hurts, not inflict them. She didn’t want to be responsible for others’ pain. She already had been, long ago. And had been responsible for their deaths, too.

Her ring formed a dull gleam in the water as she stared at it. Resentment flared up through her chest and throat. She grabbed the ring, trying to force it over her knuckle and off. She would throw it across the room…toss it and its memories as far from her as she could.

Even in the water, the ring wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t slide from her finger to free her.

Trapped.

Maybe that’s as it should be
, she tried to tell herself.
You wear the ring for a reason. Your previous mistake with a married man cost lives.

When she’d finished washing, she wrapped a towel around herself and stepped back into her bedchamber. A songbird warbled in the descending light. She ran the brush through her damp hair and pulled it back into its habitual ponytail.