The Harem Master (10 page)

"Only me," Demir replied. "He thinks that the council's decision regarding the harems is a closed matter, and that after the harems are abolished I will be amenable to his suit."

"After the harems are abolished?" Ihsan set his empty wine dish down with a hard clack. "What are you talking about?"

Demir frowned. "Has no one told you of the matter yet? Tavamara faces increased scrutiny and disapproval from our allies and trade partners for our harem practices. Combined with His Majesty's… mercurial nature, the council thinks it might be wisest to end the practice once and for all. The council is convening early and discussing the matter at length. The first hearing is in a few days, though I do not know the exact date."

"No," Ihsan said. "That is not going to happen. I'm not going to surrender a sacred practice because of a bunch of ignorant, narrow-minded heathens and my father's selfish, malicious tendencies. I will tear the whole court apart for daring not to tell me of the matter. Thank you for informing me, Lord Demir."

"Highness," Demir said and bowed slightly.

"Finish your wine, please, but you are free to go."

Demir drank the wine, though it still felt strange to sit so casually there with Ihsan when for the past few days Ihsan had barely spoken to him, and always with icy formality. Ihsan's anger with Bulut seemed to have made him forget he did not care for Demir, either, and Demir had no desire to linger long enough for Ihsan to remember. Best to say what he had come to say and depart. "There is something else I needed to discuss with you, Highness. It was my real reason for coming here."

"What is that?" Ihsan asked, hand stilling where he had started to reach for his papers again.

Drawing a breath, letting it out slowly, Demir said, "Your sister is not dead."

Silence met his words, and then Ihsan said, low and sharp, "What are you talking about?"

"We—Captain Fatih and I—smuggled her out. His cousin is the executioner and helped us arrange the deception. We snuck her out of the palace, got her onto a ship. I do not know where she is now, but she is alive and safe."

Ihsan stared at him, then dropped his head into one hand, elbow braced on the table, and gave a shaky laugh that was mostly a sob. "Zehra is alive. I cannot believe it." He looked up after a few more minutes, tears on his cheeks. "Thank you, Lord Demir, and for telling me." Sabah held out a handkerchief and Ihsan wiped his face, then drained the wine dish that Sabah filled for him. "Kitt and I saw you and Captain Fatih sneaking out of one of the secret passages a few nights ago. Is that what you were doing, smuggling someone out? How often do you do this?"

"You saw us?" Demir bit back a curse. If Ihsan had seen them and they had been wholly oblivious to it, there was a good chance others had as well.

He startled when Kitt rested a hand on his arm briefly.

"Kitt," Ihsan said sharply. "Do not touch."

Kitt blanched. "My apologies. I'm still unused to all these new rules, and used to comforting through touch. I did not mean to take the same liberties that Bulut did, Lord Demir."

Smiling faintly, Demir said, "It's all right. I know the differences in how people touch me, and a foreigner can be forgiven a few errors."

"You're the only one who calls me a 'foreigner' instead of a 'heathen'," Kitt replied, smiling crookedly. "Even this lot prefers to say heathen when speaking of anyone not from Tavamara."

"We mean no offense, Kitt," Ihsan said quietly. "I'm sorry. We'll have more care."

Kitt shrugged. "I've been called worse than heathen. I don't care. It was just an observation."

"All the same." Ihsan sipped at his wine and turned his gaze back to Demir. "So you have smuggled others out?"

Nodding, Demir said, "Yes, whoever we can. All the concubines he's ordered executed, a handful of servants."

Ihsan opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut again. He shook his head and said, "I am eternally in your debt, and Captain Fatih's, for what you both have managed to do. How did you obtain a key to the secret passages?"

"You probably don't want to know, Highness," Demir said quietly. "Your father is careless."

"Yes, he is." Ihsan gestured. "Thank you again for the information, Lord Demir. If Lord Bulut continues to bother you, inform me at once. I was going to wait until I was king to remove him, but I will press the matter now if I must."

Next to Demir, Kitt shifted as though restless. Demir turned to look at him, caught the lack of expression on his normally vibrant face. Something about him… he was good, very good, at appearing to be light-hearted and carefree, but Demir had spent his life around liars and deceivers. Kitt had shadows in his eyes, moved like a man trained go about quietly and unnoticed. What was Kitt hiding?

But that was a problem for another day, and he might be letting his imagination run away with him anyway. "I am always happy to serve, Highness. If you've no further need of me…"

"You're free to go. We'll see you at the banquet tonight."

"Yes, Highness."

"I hope the rest of your day is better than it has been so far."

Demir rose to his feet, then bowed low. "Thank you, Highness. The very same to you."

It was much easier to breathe when he was back in the hallway. A man twelve years his junior should not make him feel like a fumbling boy, but Ihsan did so anyway. Merciful Divine save him from royalty.

At least Ihsan knew Zehra was alive. More selfishly, Demir was happy to be back in Prince Ihsan's good graces. He could barely manage the displeasure of one royal. And Merciful Divine, he was a fool, because that brief encounter, the way Ihsan had taken his side regarding Bulut
and
approved of what Demir and Fatih were doing.

Demir was right back to fervently hoping that Ihsan might truly be the ally they'd been desperately needing for so long. Drawing a deep breath, he let it out slowly, then walked quickly through the halls of the palace, eyes sweeping constantly for Bulut. Mercifully, he reached the pavilion without further incident.

The Sunburst Pavilion brimmed with activity as servants bustled back and forth in a hurry to have everything ready on time. As crown prince, Ihsan should have been given a proper welcome the day after his arrival, but nothing could be done without the king's permission, and he had very pointedly been slow to give it.

Even this celebration was not all it should be, but Ihsan had not seemed perturbed when he'd acknowledged it. On the other hand, for the past three days Ihsan had been pushing himself hard trying to relearn all he had missed the past five years. A daunting task, to say the least, and further hindered by an angry council, a scheming Steward, and a volatile king. It did not help matters at all that none of those parties liked to communicate with each other.

Whatever happened with that mess, Demir just hoped no more harm came to his charges. He was tired of concubines dying because they were the easiest target for Kagan's anger. He was despondent that nobody else seemed to care until it was their son who died.

Banishing the gloomy thoughts, Demir put his full attention on the pavilion. All seemed to be proceeding accordingly, and they had left the necessary amount of extra space between the tables and the performance area.

It wasn't often they got to perform outside; normally it was a cause for excitement. Demir had only been dreading it, for who wanted to perform for someone who despised them? But after the surprisingly positive meeting with Ihsan, a small bit of excitement flickered to life.

He was stirred from his thoughts as a handsome, unassuming man approached and bowed his head. "Lord Demir, does all meet with your satisfaction?"

Demir bowed his own head in reply. "Yes, Master Riya. I thank you for accommodating us."

"Always an honor," Riya demurred. He had been Master of the Grounds for twelve years, since his predecessor had died early and unexpectedly of a bad heart. He was only a year older than Demir, and they had been friends as boys, though they'd drifted apart as their duties called them in different directions. "I'm looking forward to the performance, my lord. It's been a long time since we've seen a fire dance."

"Not since my mother left." Demir smiled faintly. "Hopefully I live up to her memory." Hopefully the lack of time to practice would not humiliate him and therefore the harem and His Majesty. When the harem ran as it should, he had personal time in which to practice the performances expected of him at important functions. Under Kagan, he only managed to practice by foregoing sleep. But there was nothing he could do about it except his best, so better not to dwell. Worrying himself to death guaranteed failure.

Riya laughed. "If I recall, my lord, you quickly outpaced your mother's lessons, to her distress and the detriment of your eyebrows."

"You recall correctly," Demir said, provoking another laugh. "I…" he paused as he saw a cloud pass over Riya's face, pushing out the levity that had filled it. "What is wrong?" he asked quietly, then shook his head when the answer provided itself by way of several loud voices speaking in rapid, jagged-edged words, growing louder as a group of men stepped out of the palace.

Demir recognized the voices of the ambassadors from Hadge, Gollen, and Havarin. They were all speaking in Havarian, a coarse, ugly language Demir had loathed learning. He dismissed Riya with a nod toward a cluster of servants awaiting Riya's attention. Smiling stiffly, he approached the foreigners and bowed. "My lords, I hope the day is treating you well."

They chuckled in that slimy way of theirs, and he did not need to glance up to know they were exchanging leering looks they believed to be subtle. As though Demir was too stupid to know when crude foreigners gawked at him like a prize cut of meat in the market. "It's a good day," replied Lord Jove, the Ambassador of Havarin. "How are you, Lord Demir?"

"Well, thank you, my lord. Have you come to sneak a look at tonight's performance?"

"I've heard it is going to be impressive." He scratched idly at his heavy, gray-touched brown beard. "Quite the return for a prince who abandoned his people."

Demir kept his head bowed. "His Highness never abandoned Tavamara; he left the palace to protect us. We are happy to have him home. The kingdom always rests easier when the heir is by the king's side. Surely it is not so different in your kingdoms?"

They laughed, but did not answer the question. Demir smiled politely and bowed again. "If you will excuse me, my lords." He strode past them, headed for the doors, but stepped behind the high trellises covered in ivy and white flowers instead and listened.

"That one needs the arrogance fucked out of him. I don't understand why a man who babysits whores all day gets to be called lord."

"Let it go, Jove. I doubt the king would fuss if you fucked one of the whores, but you touch that one and he will remove your head."

"I'm not entirely stupid, Tessel. I'm just saying that it's obvious he knows he is untouchable. If he belonged to me that nonsense would be beaten right out of him."

"I'd rather put him to work teaching his exotic arts to other whores and keep the profits pouring in,"
Tessel replied.
"Fucking him would certainly be a bonus."

The third man sighed.
"Stop thinking with your cocks and switch back to your brains."

"There's nothing we can do until we know how the wind blows with Prince Ihsan. I wish he had stayed dead."

"Don't we all. Come on, let's go down to the harbor. I want some real food before I must endure another tiresome banquet of snacks and ridiculous Tavamaran spirits."

The conversation turned to what constituted good food after that, and Demir slipped hastily away through a servant door before they walked past the trellises and saw him.

What were they waiting on until they could take Ihsan's measure? If they thought Ihsan would condone mistreatment of the concubines…

His lip curled as he recalled their talk. Exotic arts. Did they not know how to fuck where they came that they thought it was exotic? He wasn't exotic; he was a teacher and protector. Surely that was not so strange a concept just because his charges were concubines. Why were most foreigners so stupid?

His traitorous mind spun with thoughts of Kitt—brash, bold, but sweet, no matter what his secrets.

Demir hoped Ihsan had enough power to make the council listen. But Ihsan had been gone a long time, and one man would not be enough to overcome Kagan, Bulut, and the council, especially when it was clear that Bulut and the council were happier listening to foreigners than their monarchs.

Slipping out of the servants halls, Demir rounded the corner to a main hall and from there quickly returned to the harem hall. But when he reached it, the hall was far too quiet. Demir looked at the guards. "What's wrong?"

"His Majesty," one the guards replied. "He struck Maru, broke his nose. The healer is tending him, but…"

Demir immediately headed down the hall where Kagan's concubines lived. A cluster of them stood in and around the doorway to the room that Maru and his twin brother Haru shared. They scattered like birds when they saw him, and in much the same fashion would return once he was in the room.

The healer, Sule, looked up when he heard the door slide shut. His face was set in grim lines. "Lord Demir. I've treated his nose and gave both him and his brother a mild sedative. They were quite distraught."

"Why?"

"I do not know the details, but His Majesty was extremely angry about whatever happened in his office. He struck Haru, left his face bruised. Maru came to his brother's defense and that is when His Majesty really lost control and broke his nose. Apparently His Majesty was threatening to punish the entire harem, though I believe somebody calmed him down and convinced him to forget the notion." But the long look he gave Demir said he did not think that would actually happen.

Damn it. If the whole of the harem was to be punished, that included him—and if he was too severely injured by whatever Kagan did to him, it would be that much harder to keep protecting them.

Merciful Divine, he would like everything to stop going wrong for one day. He would settle for one hour. If he truly was to be thrown out when the harems were abolished, at least there would be nothing to press down upon him so heavily he felt like he was being suffocated. At least he would not spend every day of his life afraid for himself and dozens of others.