Ihsan made a soft noise of appreciation, as did many others. Demir was dressed in pants much like his usual, save the fabric shimmered and was faintly sheer at the legs. They were black at the top but slowly shifted to a bright red-gold at the bottom and shot through with gold threads. His skin gleamed, and gold hoops decorated with rubies sparkled at his nipples and stomach, all connected by a gold chain studded with more rubies to a matching chain around his throat. His eyes had been lined in black paint that flowed out into curling, flowering vines down the sides of his face and under his eyes.
He held a staff loosely in one hand, spinning it easily to hold in front of him at an angle. A concubine came forward and lit the ends. Demir held the staff out in front of him, parallel with the ground, and bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, it is an honor to perform for you this evening."
Ihsan smiled. "Lord Demir, I thank you for the entertainment."
"My pleasure, Highness," Demir said quietly. Rising to his full height, he began to dance.
How Ihsan had not paid more attention to Demir, and his rare fire dance, when he was younger, Ihsan did not know. But if he could give that child a good shaking, he would. Ihsan had no words for Demir's performance. He moved like the flames he controlled, twisting, darting, spinning, forming circles and waves and loops with the flaming staff. Every voice in the pavilion had ceased, even more quiet than they'd been for the singing. The only sound was the drums pounding the rhythm for Demir's enthralling dance.
When it finally came to an end, Demir on his knees, head bowed low, Ihsan bit back a selfish request for an encore. Demir was dripping sweat, his hair damp and sticking to his skin, but he still looked breathtaking, as enthralling and untouchable as fire.
Ihsan nodded to Sabah, who poured a dish of wine, and started to bid Sabah take it to Demir—but Sabah gave him a look, gestured with his head, and Ihsan followed where he indicated.
To Haluk, whose eyes remained fixed on Demir as though it would cost him something dear to look away.
How had Ihsan missed that the other night? He nodded to Sabah, who handed off the dish to Haluk and gestured to Demir. Haluk looked briefly surprised but quickly masked it as he rose to his feet and walked across the pavilion to the still-kneeling Demir.
Kneeling in front of and slightly to the side of Demir, Haluk bid him look up with a light touch to his arm, then offered the wine for Demir to sip while he held the dish—a high and rare honor. Demir's eyes flew to Ihsan, but he looked away again when Ihsan smiled.
"If ever a performance could be described as perfect, Lord Demir, it is yours. I am honored you would expend such effort for me. I hope you will join us for the rest of the meal."
Demir bowed his head again as Haluk withdrew and returned to the table. "It would be an honor, Highness. Allow me to make myself presentable for the table and I shall."
"We eagerly await your company." Ihsan watched him depart, then shifted his attention to Haluk as he resumed his seat. Pitching his voice low, he said, "I remember a recent conversation about sad eyes."
Haluk flinched. "Not the same thing, Highness."
"I think it is, though I do not know how I missed it before."
"It is nothing," Haluk said firmly. "Merely the remnants of an infatuation. I was a young man ordered to watch over a boy prince. I think you would be hard-pressed to find anyone sexually inclined who did not think about having the Harem Master to warm their bed."
Kitt gave a fleeting smile. "Even those not sexually inclined would probably still enjoy watching, or maybe just cuddling up close."
Ihsan returned the brief smile and let the matter drop for the moment. He was far from convinced by Haluk's argument, if only because he remembered vividly how Haluk looked he was denying his feelings. Sabah knew it even better, so it was equal parts endearing and exasperating that Haluk thought he was fooling them.
Though perhaps it was only self-preservation. It was not as though Haluk would ever be able to act on his feelings, be they lust or love. "I was going to have you serve him the rest of the banquet, but you can switch with Kitt if you prefer."
"No," Haluk said quietly. "I am happy to serve, my prince, always."
"Mm." Ihsan turned back to his guests. "I hope you are enjoying the banquet so far, my lords?"
The Rittuen ambassador, Setter, beamed. "Yes, Highness. Always. I've always wanted to see the fire dance. I am honored and ecstatic I was able to do so. My grandfather spoke of it often, and my father was most disappointed he was not assigned here so he might see it and so much more of Tavamara for himself."
"Oh? Is ambassador an inherited position in Rittu? I have never heard that." Ihsan opened his mouth as Sabah offered up a bite of food, a piece of chicken in a thick, sticky sauce. Ihsan ate it, then licked remnants of sauce from Sabah's fingers.
Setter laughed. "No, it's not inherited. We're not very good at staying still, my family. My mother was in Havarin the last time I heard from her and my sisters in Tritacia. They came here to visit me just a few months ago."
"I see," Ihsan replied with a smile, then shifted his attention to the others, who conversed politely but with a stiffness so common to most foreigners as they made a clumsy show of not gawking at the concubines and the way Ihsan and his father interacted with them.
He was surprised his father had not invited anyone from the council to sit with them. Well, not surprised, but the rudeness was dismaying. Even if his father and the council were at odds, he should be considerate. Especially when the council was strongly considering abolishing the harems. But if Ihsan thought about that for too long he would ruin his good mood.
Movement caught his eye, and he watched Lord Demir approach, dressed in a new set of gold-trimmed black pants and skirt, all his jewelry the same, and his make-up redone in stylized orchids down the sides of his face. He bowed low as he reached the table.
"Sit, please," Ihsan bid. "You gave a fine performance, truly. How do you have time to master such a thing amidst all your other duties?"
Demir smiled. "Early mornings, late nights. I have no doubt it is much easier than running a kingdom, Highness."
"Perhaps," Ihsan said with a laugh. Servants appeared to clear away the third course and lay out the fourth: platters of various roasted meats, rice, noodles, all manner of sauces, and a whole new set of wines, dark and spiced to accompany the heavier foods, pale and light to match the seafood.
Kitt poured wine, took a sip, and then offered it to Ihsan, smiling faintly when Ihsan kissed his fingertips before sipping the wine. Nearby, Demir seemed disconcerted to be served by Haluk, but he did not protest.
"Prince Ihsan," Jove said. "Might I be so bold as to ask a question that must linger on all our minds?"
Ihsan took a sip of wine offered by Sabah. "You may ask, but I may not answer."
"Of course, Highness." Jove pressed a hand lightly to his chest. "I am honored by your indulgence. Your scars are the source of my curiosity. If it is not painful for you to speak of them, what caused such a terrible injury?"
As questions went, there were worse that could have been asked. "The tale is not an exciting one. It was in the midst of a battle against Lavarre soldiers. They have this particularly nasty trick: a thin metal ball packed with shards of glass and metal and explosive powder. When they ignite it, the shrapnel bursts out in all directions. I was standing close to one when it went off and had time only to throw up an arm that shielded my eyes. When I woke, I was in a prison camp, where I spent two years of my life."
"You must be quite strong to endure so much pain and strife," Setter replied. "I broke my finger once. My lovers at the time said I whined more than a child."
Ihsan laughed. "Oh, I do not claim to have taken it well. I woke up covered in bandages, screaming with pain. It seemed to take forever before I could move again, and it was months before I could move without serious pain." He reached out, trailed the back of his fingers down Kitt's cheek, and smiled when Kitt kissed his fingers. "Thankfully I was distracted from it most days by an unusual companion."
Setter regarded Kitt, brows slightly drawn. "Am I mistaken in thinking he is Rittuen?"
"He is," Ihsan said and gestured that Kitt and Setter could speak freely to each other.
Kitt smiled. "An honor to meet you, Lord Setter. I know your name; I believe I met your father once when I was very young. He was visiting the temple where I was raised."
The faint pensive look on Setter's face sharpened. "The one he visited on behalf of the king."
"Yes," Kitt said.
"A prestigious temple," Setter said somberly. "The Holy Dragon would be pleased to know His Shadow has stretched so far."
Kitt shrugged and offered wine to Ihsan. "The Holy Dragon is not my concern any longer."
Ihsan tipped his face up and kissed him softly. "I—"
A choking cry of pain followed by a harsh coughing fit cut off his words. Ihsan turned back to the table in time to see Jove cough so hard he slammed into the table, upsetting dishes and carafes. Tessel reached out, trying to steady him, but he was distracted when Lady Myre began to cough as well.
Then the entire table seemed to dissolve into a morass of coughing and crying, blood and spittle painting their lips and hands and napkins.
"Guards!" Ihsan bellowed, right before his father collapsed. "Protect the king, take him to his room. Summon the healer to his chambers. I want everything at this table secured and taken away for examination. Someone—" He broke off as Sabah and Haluk succumbed to the poison. What had they had to eat or drink that he and Kitt had not touched?
"Highness—" Demir gasped out, then muffled a coughing fit in a napkin. "P-pudd—" he tipped forward but was caught at the last moment by Kitt, who hauled him back to lay on the floor instead.
Kitt looked up at Ihsan. "We need to get you back to your room."
Ihsan nodded. "We are taking Haluk and Sabah with us. I will not leave them. Lord Demir as well. Guards!" More guards came running, until at least twenty of them surrounded the table. "Take my concubines and Lord Demir to my chambers. Put guards to watch over the afflicted ambassadors. Find out who is responsible for this poison! Captain Fatih, I expect an update on events within the hour."
"Yes, Highness."
Rising, Ihsan strode off with Kitt at his side, guards around them with swords drawn. Someone who used poison would not be likely to attack him directly, but there were plenty of others who would use the turmoil to their advantage.
Safely back in his room, Ihsan waited impatiently as Sabah and Haluk were laid out on his bed and Lord Demir on a hastily made pallet. Dismissing the guards, Ihsan went immediately to his men. "Kitt, will they be all right?" Sabah's skin was clammy, and the blood on his lips provoked a fear Ihsan had hoped he'd left behind with the war.
Kitt climbed into the bed, examined them both, then climbed out again and vanished into a storage room off to one side of the bed. He returned after a moment with a small, dark green leather chest. "I think they've been given a type of spider poison. I do not know what you call them here." He switched to Rittuen. "
Golden Spinners is what we call them. Large, fat, dark brown spiders with gold stripes on their back. They spin webs that appear gold; they blend into the foliage of the forests where they are found in Rittu.
"
"We have no such spider here," Ihsan said quietly in Tavamaran. "Does that mean this was done by someone from Rittu?"
"No," Kitt said, withdrawing a small glass bottle filled with a dark, yellow-green liquid. Pouring it into a cup he retrieved from the table, he diluted it with water, then carefully made Sabah and Haluk drink it. "It's a popular choice for this sort of thing. One moment." He crossed to the pallet and gave the last of the cup's contents to Demir. "The rest of this should be given to the others." At Ihsan's nod, he took the bottle with the remaining liquid and left to find a guard.
On the bed, Sabah and Haluk both seemed to rest easier, though they still looked far too fragile for Ihsan's peace of mind.
He looked up when Kitt returned. "Tell me more."
"Golden Spinner poison is a popular choice for this sort of thing, like I said, but it's a popular choice for amateurs and the cheap assassins that only a fool would hire, or somebody who does not do this kind of thing often. Some assassins and mercenaries use it as a warning strike, a sort of
I could have killed you, but I did not. Now you will be afraid
. That's not what I think happened here. I think somebody panicked and inexperienced wanted you dead. I can find out."
"Do it," Ihsan said. "What do I need to do for them while you are gone?"
"Give them water when they stir, keep them warm." Kitt smiled, the cold, sharp smile Ihsan had first seen when Kitt murdered the guard who'd tried to rape a couple of boys in the prison camp. He'd stabbed the man so he would bleed out slowly and in great pain, then left him where no one would find him in time. Everything had changed for Ihsan and Kitt that night. "Thanks to Lord Demir, I know the poison was in that savory pudding I was avoiding."
"That would explain why you and I were unaffected." Ihsan had been fond of puddings as a child, but he had eaten the vilest concoctions in that prison camp that had put him off such textures for the rest of his life. Kitt hated them for the same reason. "Find out who did this but do not kill them."
"As you wish." Stripping off his harem clothes and jewels, Kitt dressed in well-fitted dark brown clothes that hid all of his skin from sight save the top halves of his fingers and his head, though the covering for it lay about his shoulders waiting to be pulled into place.
Ihsan nodded at Demir. "There should be a key on his chain, a small one with many teeth, that opens the secret passages. Use the entrance in my storeroom. I'm sure from there you can find your way out of the palace. There are two exits: one leads to the city-side of the palace; the other to the opposite side."