The Harem Master (35 page)

She took her seat as the guards obeyed, grateful for the pale, faintly salty wine that Canan offered up, draining the dish and taking a swallow from a second before the guards had returned. They dragged in Bulut, who wore only a bright yellow under robe, lip split and bloody, left eye swollen shut, and a cut on his left cheek. His hands were bound behind him, and the guards dragged him in—literally—as it did not seem like Bulut could walk.

A shiver ran down Euren's spine as Kitt strode in behind them, dressed head to foot in well-fitted black clothes, his hair bound back and covered with a black scarf. Even his skin had been treated to reduce the absolute paleness of it and make it look like he'd tanned heavily in the sun. A short sword hung from his left hip, and she could see daggers strapped to his thighs, more tucked into his boots, and there was no telling what else was hidden on him. She knew from previous conversation that the pouches on his belt held poisons and other nasty substances to kill when a blade wasn't feasible.

Someone swore in Rittuen, and Euren turned to look at a man she recalled vaguely. He'd been Rittu's ambassador in Tavamara for as long as she could remember, though she'd never paid him any mind growing up, past the fact he was nice to children and often gave them sweets, toys, and other treats from time to time. He'd once given her a sugar flower, a rare treat for a soldier's daughter.

He looked more than a little alarmed as he stared at Kitt, and the two people in his party looked positively terrified. So they must know what he was—had been. Merciful Divine, she hoped Ihsan survived, for a thousand selfish reasons, a hundred practical ones—and one of them was that she was not sure what Kitt would do if Ihsan died. "Lord Kitt, what proof have you that Master Bulut is responsible for the assassinations?"

"I investigated the matter thoroughly, Your Majesty," Kitt replied, keeping his head bowed as he kneeled a couple of paces in front of Bulut. "I examined the bodies of the assassins, used descriptions to determine the places they frequented and where they could be found. After that, I asked around and have several witnesses who described a man fitting Bulut's description. It did not take long from there to find him hiding in a pleasure house in the harbor district, waiting for his ship, set to depart in two more days."

Euren nodded at him before looking at Bulut. "Do you deny any of this, Master Bulut? What have you to say?"

"I find it laughable I am being punished for something everyone wanted to happen, for being the only one willing to do it," Bulut said bitterly.

"Thank you for confessing," Euren replied, then looked at her father. "Captain, chain him in the execution yard. See he is watched by no less than six guards at all times. Make certain he is given food and water at meal times and not overly taxed by the weather—but he is not to be taken inside. Master Bulut, you will be executed at the end of the mourning period. Take him away." She waited until he was gone, then said, "Court is dismissed. Questions can be addressed to Steward Cenk beginning tomorrow. I am afraid that today we are too busy. Thank you for attending."

She sat, taut as a bowstring, as everyone slowly filed out, their whispers filling the room, their curious, judging looks sharp as any knife. Euren ignored them, or tried to at least. She had every right to be on the throne. She'd done nothing wrong. She was the easiest one for everyone to blame, however, though much of the hostility would ease when everyone realized just how deeply their councilors had betrayed them.

Drawing a deep breath, she let it out slowly, then repeated the motion three more times until the urge to scream passed.

It was still a blessed relief when the doors finally closed, leaving only Euren, her harem, Kitt, Cenk, and Fatih. She slumped in her seat. "All this, and it's not even lunch time."

Cenk and Fatih chuckled. "Better get used to it, my queen. Especially with all the upheaval we're causing," Cenk said.

Fatih climbed the steps and offered a hand, embracing her when Euren accepted it and rose. She wanted to stay right there, warm and safe, where no one would dare hurt her. But she was queen. It was her job to protect everyone else.

Not so different from a guard, at the very end of it all. "I need to write letters to Demir and Haluk. Then we must figure out how to deal with the council." She glanced at Kitt as he joined them. "Go back to Ihsan and change into something less terrifying. I thought the Rittuen party was going to pass out."

Kitt smiled crookedly, a touch of ice in it. "To most of Rittu, I am something like a legend. A scary story. Very, very few actually believe there is a secret order where children are trained to be assassins for the crown. Even fewer know it's true. Seeing me, as I am, is much like waking up and finding the nightmare came with you." He shrugged. "At least finding Bulut was easy. Being queen suits you, Majesty, but we always knew it would." He kissed her cheek, then turned and strode off, the door slamming shut behind him.

Euren blew out a breath and did not protest in the slightest when Canan took her hand. "Onward, then. I need to write letters. Do not hesitate to disturb me if something else goes wrong." Harem around her, she strode from the courtroom, and guards once more gathered around to escort her to her office.

"So have you thought of what you are going to do from now on?" Nuray asked, sipping at her tea. It smelled sweet and nutty, a tea Demir's father had blended years ago and which remained Nuray's favorite. Demir had never known her to drink any other tea, in fact, unless it was served to her by someone else.

"No." He sipped his own tea, which was dark and sweet, much milder of flavor. "Given my skillset, I suppose a pleasure house is the most logical decision. Perhaps something focused on training, give the prostitutes a chance to make better wages right from the start when they take work at the various houses." He sighed and drank more tea. "But to be honest the ideas hold no draw."

She smiled and patted his hand, her own wrinkled and thin but as strong as he remembered from boyhood. "No, being a master in your own right is not what you want. You have always been a master because that is the service asked of you, and at heart, all you want is to please your master."

"Please stop being astute," Demir replied, setting his tea aside, no longer thirsty.

Her smile faded, and this time she covered his hand with both of hers and left them there. "Demir, there is nothing wrong with that desire. You of all people should know that. I thought you were happy with the arrangement, otherwise I never would have expected you to take my place."

"I've always been happy with my life, and I could never bear to break tradition."

"Tradition." Scoffing and withdrawing her hands, Nuray said, "I am extremely proud of our family traditions, but the bloodline is not as pure or unbroken as you might think. Neither is the royal line, come to that. But kings and concubines excel at keeping secrets—especially each other's. I would rather have my son happy than preserve a tradition that is not even remotely as pure as carefully spun lies would have everyone believe. Stop thinking of what you can do, and should do, Demir. You are nearly forty years old, plenty old enough to show more sense than that."

"According to you, I only have sense in regards to others, not myself."

"A statement you've never disproven."

He made a face and picked up his tea, taking a small sip. When Nuray only kept staring, patiently waiting, Demir conceded defeat. Whatever his skills, he had never outlasted his mother's patience, and Divine knew that he had tried his best growing up. "I can't have what I want, mother. Certainly not now, unless I want to be a palace concubine or join a pleasure house, and neither of those options appeals."

"There are plenty of men and women who would be happy to have you," Nuray said. "I suspect there is a man in my house this very moment who would be more than happy to grant your every desire."

Demir tensed and abandoned his tea again, chest tightening with a twisting, stabbing ache he was becoming entirely too familiar with. "Haluk belongs with Prince Ihsan. I would never show such disrespect to either of them."

"There are no more royal harems," Nuray said. "Whatever their feelings, the law forbids the relationship unless Haluk joins the palace harem, which I do not think he will do."

"Laws could change again, especially once they abolish the slave trading arrangements and get rid of responsible parties. If they can prove that was the true motivation behind attacking harem tradition, the royal harems will be reinstated."

Nuray shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not."

"Better to be cautious than to become attached to something that will be ripped away."

Narrowing her eyes, setting down the teacup she'd just picked up again, Nuray said, "You are being—"

The pounding of feet across the floor cut her off, and they both turned as a frantic-looking servant came barreling out of the house and across the large porch, made of beautiful gray and blue tiles that gradually vanished into the sand, granting easy access to the beach that spread out from the back of his parents' house. Beautiful, but it wasn't Tavala. Demir had enjoyed their occasional visits to the beachside house growing up, but he'd always been much happier to return to the palace. Even now, over a week later and still feeling the sting of betrayal, he missed it.

Dropping to his knees just a couple of paces beyond their table, the servant held out a missive. "Lord Demir, this came for you. Another came for Master Haluk. It's from the royal palace, delivered by falcon."

Fear shot through Demir, and he reached out to grab the note. Who would use the falcons to send a note? But the royal seal was answer enough. Breaking it, he unfolded the paper and read.

When he finished, he dropped the papers on the table and rose to his feet. "I must return to the palace."

Nuray frowned, picking up the papers when he nodded that she may read. He didn't wait for her to finish, however, but raced back into the house and down the hall to his room—nearly colliding with Haluk, who came flying around the corner from the study. "Apologies!" Haluk burst out. "The servants said you received a letter as well. I am sorry, but I must go back. Ihsan—"

Stepping in close, Demir grabbed his shoulders, squeezed gently. "Of course we will go back. I could not leave the harem floundering, or remain here when Ihsan is hurt."

"You can't go back," Haluk snapped, shrugging his hands off and then grabbing his arm. "You're in more danger than ever."

"I have a duty." Demir pulled his arm free and stepped away. "I will go and speak with Emre and the others, bid Prince Altan and Lady Irmak farewell." He strode off before Haluk could reply, stifling a sigh when his mother found him as he was crossing to the other side of the house where most of the general use rooms were located. "Mother, do not say what you are thinking."

She scowled. "You truly want to go back? After the way they treated you?"

"I cannot abandon the concubines if they need me."

"You refused to have anything to do with them before."

"Because King Kagan and the council were in charge. He is dead and they are in prison. Prince Ihsan is badly wounded, may even be—" He broke off, head turning to the side, eyes closing briefly. Opening them again, he said, "Queen Euren has asked kindly for my help and says that I am of course free to go the moment the concubines no longer need me. She says I am under no obligation to agree and that I've more than earned the peace she hopes I am finding here. I cannot refuse."

"You're still in danger," she said gently. "And Prince Ihsan… Well, I am not fit to speak about that. I barely recall the boy he was; I certainly do not know the man he has become. It speaks well of him that he inspires such fierce loyalty in all my house guests. In you. I still say you would be wiser to seduce the soldier than go back into that mess and risk your life for a reckless prince you barely know. We are faithful and loyal, Demir, but not blindly so."

Demir shook his head. "I'm not blind."

"You're not seeing clearly, either," Nuray said quietly.

"Perhaps not. I'm still going back. The royal palace is where I belong. I walked away for my own sake, but if there is now a chance to save it, then I will return for the same."

"Fine. You're old enough to make your own decisions." She hugged him tightly, then handed back his letter. "Your father will be sad you left before he returned from his errands."

"My deepest regrets and apologies to him," Demir said, kissing her cheek before drawing back.

She sighed, rested a hand on his cheek. "You have grown up well, Demir, and mostly all on your own. I can only steal so much credit. Go speak with your companions. I will see your belongings are packed." Kissing his cheek, she then turned and bustled off.

Demir watched her go a moment, then hurried off to the sitting room where he had last seen Cobra gathered.

When he arrived, however, it was only Lady Irmak and Meltem, bent over a pile of books and papers, probably practicing Meltem's reading abilities. The subject had come up a few nights ago at dinner, when Meltem and the other Cobra had admitted reading was not their strong suit, having little need of it in a place where paper did not weather well. Irmak had immediately volunteered to help. "Where are the others?"

"Most of them went outside to practice, a couple went for a ride," Meltem replied, eyes still on the book she was reading. "I believe my brother and Prince Altan went to flirt somewhere more private."  She slowly looked up, putting a marker in the book—and dropped it completely when she saw his face. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

Demir nodded and held out his letter for her. "King Kagan was assassinated, by men hired by Bulut. Prince Ihsan was severely injured; they are not certain yet if he will survive. Haluk and I have been recalled, and of course, Euren said she hoped you would come as well."

"Is Euren well?" Meltem asked as she stood up, fear in her voice and anger in her eyes.

"She's fine," Demir said. "But we must go quickly."