by Anna Kashina
Kara continued to look ahead. She was aware of the way Egey Bashi was studying her face, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” he said.
Kara squared her jaw. “I saw Meera’s men look at me, especially after she proposed the exchange.”
“And?”
“At the Olivian court, am I expected to receive… offers from their men?”
“You are a very attractive woman. You also look exactly like one of their own. I’d say they’ll try, yes. Do you have a problem with it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She glanced at him briefly, noticing the way his gaze softened as he watched her.
“I find these kinds of relationships very odd,” she said.
“At the times of the Old Empire,” Egey Bashi said, “the emperor and the nobles used to maintain harems of females.”
“Yes, I heard.”
“These women were kept far stricter than the Shayil Yaran women keep their men. They were expected to spend their lives in seclusion, hidden from other men’s eyes. This kind of an arrangement, however imperfect, worked for centuries. Of course, men are different in that regard.”
“Different? How?”
“If you keep a bunch of men in seclusion competing for affections of one woman, they would all kill each other before long. You need to give them something else to do. To make it work seamlessly, you should also keep their options open to other women. The noblewomen here show off their men and share them freely. Those who assume you are one of them would expect you to do the same.”
“So, how do I deal with this exactly?”
“By coming to terms with it. You don’t have to agree to anything, but if you show the kind of discomfort you are showing now, it would affect your negotiations too.”
“Would it?”
“The Queen is a talented politician, or so I heard. If she sees how flustered you are at the men’s attention, she would make sure you are surrounded by them any time you are having an important talk. A distracted opponent is much easier to manipulate.”
Kara nodded. This situation stirred up the worst memories about her training, overcoming her fear of men in order to get her Diamond ranking. She had done it once. Now, with so much depending on her, she had to find that strength again. She had no other choice.
27
Aljahara
“The desert gear was bad enough,” Ellah said. “Are we now expected to wear this?”
Kara gave the clothing laid out over the bed a long, hard stare. Damn it, they couldn’t possibly be serious about it. “They have different customs here.”
“Yes, but…”
“I think we must, if we want the Queen to give our request her full consideration.”
“You don’t really mean it, do you?”
Kara swallowed. This would indeed have looked like a bad joke if she hadn’t spotted similarly dressed women in the inn’s common room early this morning. The inn was one of those on the Majat Guild’s payroll, but it also accepted regular customers and was apparently popular with the upper classes.
“You can probably get away with wearing your regular dress,” she told Ellah. “You look like a foreigner anyway.”
Ellah looked relieved as she edged away, wrapping her cloak around herself in a forceful gesture, as if to prevent anyone from ripping it off.
Kara sighed as she stepped decisively toward the bed. She had already changed from her usual clothing once, and the change served her well on their trip through the desert. She supposed she should view it as normal that she must now wear this outfit, even if she couldn’t help feeling bitter that as the negotiator she was the only one in their party obliged to dress according to local customs. The innkeeper did try to offer court clothing to the entire party, but Mai had pointed out to her, politely but firmly, that in this official embassy he and his men should retain their normal appearance. Kara couldn’t help wondering how much of his firmness was due to the fashion of the local garb.
She did her best to distance herself from the process as she donned the wide silky pants with an ornate belt that settled low over the hips, and a gold-embroidered sleeveless blouse that looked more like a scarf wrapped around her upper torso, seemingly designed entirely for the purpose of outlining her breasts. The clothes left her stomach bare, low enough to see her belly button.
The light silver sandals that came with the outfit fastened in numerous straps, offering far less support than her usual boots. Feeling defiant, she clipped on her knife belt and strapped on her sheathed blades across her back.
Her resolve weakened when she saw Ellah gaping. The girl’s widened eyes drifted down to Kara’s bare stomach before returning to her face.
There was no mirror in the room, far less luxurious than the one Kara had been originally offered to share with all the men, but she hadn’t minded that much until now, when she realized that she would be expected to wear this garb to the inn’s common room without having any prior reference point.
“What?” she demanded.
“You look… amazing,” Ellah said.
Amazing. Kara forced herself not to dwell on it, taking care to adjust her sword sheath to lie more naturally against her back. The deep violet silk, by the innkeeper’s admission specially selected to complement her eye color, was actually comfortable enough not to suppress any movements if it came to fighting, but she definitely wasn’t used to showing so much skin.
She paused for a moment to compose herself, before opening the door and stepping into the hallway outside.
Her arrival in the inn’s common room was met with dead silence. She tried to distance herself from the way everyone was staring at her as she made her way up to Mai and Egey Bashi.
“Are you sure this is really necessary?” she asked.
Mai closed his mouth slowly, his stunned expression so unlike his unusual calm composure. Even Egey Bashi seemed momentarily distracted, his wistful look making her feel angry. If the men in her own party, ones she trusted, were staring at her this way, what could she possibly expect at the Olivian court, where everyone, apparently, had only one thing on their mind?
“Rules or not,” she said, “I’m going to bloody change back into my own gear. Wait here.”
She turned to go, but before anyone could respond, the innkeeper hurried toward her. The elderly woman was beaming, her large lamp-like earrings clinking in rhythm with her steps.
“My lady Kara! You look so wonderful! So much like…” The woman paused, stepping backward and around to look at Kara from different sides. Her expression turned wistful, her eyes darting to a lit alcove on the wall.
Behind her a group of servants was staring too, talking to each other in hushed whispers.
“What is it?” Kara demanded.
The innkeeper looked at the alcove again. Kara strode forward to have a good view, Mai and Egey Bashi in her wake.
The painting hanging in the niche was clad in a heavy ornate frame, surrounded by glowing lanterns to illuminate it so that it stood out in the room’s dim lighting. It depicted a woman in flowing red silks, adorned with heavy golden jewelry.
Kara’s mouth fell open as she saw the woman’s face.
She never spent much time looking in the mirror, and of course mirrors were very different from paint when it came to portraying reality, but even she could spot her undeniable likeness to the woman in the portrait. Her own new clothes were of a different color, and without the special sheen that must have come from the exceptional quality of the fabric. She also wore no gold, covered instead by numerous straps from her sheaths and weapon belts. But there was also something incredibly similar, not only in the woman’s features, but also in her posture, the way she tilted her head and lifted her eyebrow, as if listening to a conversation beside her.
Kara spun around to face the innkeeper.
“Who is this?” she demanded.
The older woman took time to answer,
looking at Kara distractedly. “Queen Jameera. She ruled about twenty years ago.”
Kara looked back to the portrait, trying to shake off the eerie feeling, as if she was looking at a painted depiction of her own face. “What happened to her?”
“She died in childbirth, to everyone’s sadness. She was a great queen. People of Shayil Yara still mourn her. Her Majesty Queen Rajmella is her younger sister.”
Kara nodded. The explanation seemed normal, right up to the fact that for some inexplicable reason this dead queen looked so much like her. She glanced at Mai and Egey Bashi, their distracted expressions telling her more than words.
“This seems like yet another reason to change back into my gear,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to offend the Queen by showing up at court looking like her long-dead relative.”
The innkeeper shook her head earnestly. “Oh, no. On the contrary, the Queen will be so pleased that you took the effort to abide by our customs. This portrait – it’s unofficial, painted in the Queen Jameera’s younger years, before she assumed the throne. Some of these paintings still circulate through the city, but they would only have the official ones up at the palace, painted when the Queen was in her prime. I am certain no one would even spot the likeness. Besides, Queen Jameera favored garnet and red. Purple was not her style.”
Kara exchanged a questioning look with Mai and Egey Bashi. If she looked the part, if she did everything right, their chances of getting out of here as soon as possible were higher than if she took any other course of action. Which meant she had to show up at the palace dressed properly for the audience and behaving according to local customs. Besides, she couldn’t help her looks, could she? Most likely the portrait here just happened to appear more similar to her than any others.
“If you show up at court wearing your gear instead of the local clothing,” Mai said, “we might have a harder time getting what we want.”
“I agree,” Egey Bashi put in. “Besides, a likeness to a random portrait of a popular Queen is hardly damning, is it? Given that you couldn’t possibly have any relationship to Queen Jameera, no one would probably give it a second thought. I’d say we go and get this over with.”
Kara glanced down at her bare stomach. With all this strangeness, she temporarily forgot even to feel embarrassed, but now the thought that she was about to march through the city dressed like this hit her anew. She glanced at Mai, hoping she didn’t look as trapped as she felt, knowing he understood exactly what was going through her head.
“It looks natural on you,” Mai said. “If I haven’t been used to you dressed differently I wouldn’t even give this a second thought.”
She nodded. He was right. For someone who didn’t know her, she would look exactly like other Olivian ladies, which was what she wanted. Besides, the fascination she saw in Mai’s gaze when she first stepped into the room could be worth going into this little bit of trouble. If she kept by his side, if she let everyone know very clearly that she wasn’t available, things could hopefully go smoothly at court. If she did want to get this negotiation over with, she would do best to play along.
The palace was only a short walk away, but Kara’s showy sandals with thin soles and ornate silvery straps did not provide enough support for her feet. She was finding it difficult to maintain her warrior’s stride, even if she was never going to show it. Keeping her chin high and her shoulders square, she walked in the lead with the confident look of one who owned the place. She hoped it looked convincing.
The way people in the streets followed them seemed curious at first, but after a while it started to unnerve her. She supposed her suite of fair-skinned northern men should stir a reaction, but she never expected it would draw such a crowd. She couldn’t understand this at all. As far as she could tell, she looked exactly the same as the noble Olivian ladies, perhaps dressed a bit more elaborately for the audience with the Queen. People here should be accustomed to a woman and her harem walking through. Did they sense something different about her?
Her resemblance to the portrait back at the inn could be the only other explanation. Yet this, too, seemed superficial. Everyone knew this Queen Jameera – or whatever was her name – was long dead. Surely they wouldn’t possibly fret over a stranger bearing a fleeting likeness to her?
By the time they reached the palace, the crowd at their backs grew so large that it flooded the entire plaza. Their excited chatter gradually turned into a chant. Kara strained her ears but couldn’t understand the words.
“What are they saying?” she asked Egey Bashi walking just behind her.
Egey Bashi hesitated. “I am not sure. It sounds like ‘Aljahara’, I believe.”
“Some word in a local language?”
“They use mostly common speech here in Tahr Abad. The only prevalent local dialect is that of the Cha’idi nomads, but this doesn’t sound like it.”
“Perhaps a name?”
Egey Bashi glanced around at the people crowded behind to watch them ascend the palace steps. “Damned if I know. The way they look at you does seem curious. I’ll see into it as soon as I can, and perhaps find out the meaning of their chant if the circumstances allow.”
Kara shut her mind to the crowd’s noises as she approached the guards stationed at the large palace gate. Trying to look as haughty as she could, she handed them the Queen’s invitation letter she had received through the innkeeper early this morning.
The guard on the left read it, then lowered the parchment and looked over her entire party with a suspicious eye. “The Majat Guildmaster, eh?”
“Aghat Mai,” Kara pointed with her upturned palm, following the Olivian custom.
“And the rest of the men?”
“The Majat of Aghat Mai’s suite. And Magister Egey Bashi from the order of Keepers, with his apprentice, Ellah.” They all agreed that hiding Ellah’s gift of truthsense was the best strategy that could give Kara the maximum advantage during the negotiations. She glanced at the girl’s hand, folded over her white robe with one outturned finger. Kara hardly needed this indication that the guard was being truthful – especially since he was the one asking the questions right now – but she felt reassured anyway. Ellah was paying attention. If she heard a lie, she would hold out two fingers to signal it without alerting anyone else.
The guard shuffled his feet in place, as if hesitating. Kara waited, looking at his golden shoulder plate shaped like a lion head, holding his crimson cloak in place. The man was from the Golden Lions battalion of the Queen’s elite guards. She knew them to be formidable warriors, even if they couldn’t quite compare to the Majat.
“Queen Rajmella has ordered accommodations to be prepared for you at the palace,” the guard said. “You all must leave your weapons there before you are allowed into her presence.”
Kara looked at Mai, his quick shrug of acceptance giving her a cue. She supposed it was all right to stay at the palace, even if it did change some of their original plans. She also saw no threat in the idea of leaving their weapons behind in their living quarters, as long as they could also leave someone to guard them. It made sense that the Queen would not want to let a small army of Majat’s top Gems come into her presence fully armed. And, given their combat skill, having no weapons hardly put them into any extra danger. If a fight erupted, capturing the guards’ weapons to defend themselves should not be difficult at all.
“We thank the Queen for her hospitality,” she said.
The large suite of rooms opened to a private courtyard, dominated by a large pond inlaid with blue marble and gold mosaic. It seemed even more luxurious than the royal suite Mai had been previously offered at King Evan’s court. The only step back in comfort lay in the fact that in these chambers there were no beds. Instead, each room contained low and wide cots covered with soft rugs and piled up invitingly with pillows, each of the cots large enough to sleep ten. Kara didn’t want to venture any guesses into what these cots were normally used for. They would just have to think of this as camping, a
nd space as evenly throughout the rooms as they possibly could.
Walking through the suite, Kara felt instantly reassured. The size and luxury of it befitted the Majat Guildmaster’s station, showing that the Queen acknowledged the embassy and was prepared to follow the protocol. In fact, even the invitation to stay in the palace went along with the rules. Mai’s station required an in-palace apartment rather than a room at an inn.
The servants helped them settle in, serving small basins to each of them to wash their hands and faces, followed by light refreshments – mint tea and tarts, filled with sliced almonds and rose petal jam. Another group of servants came in as they were strapping off weapons, bringing in the gear and packs the Majat had left at the inn this morning. Clearly, the Queen took her offer of hospitality seriously enough to make sure her guests settled in fully, even if Kara couldn’t help wishing that this could be a very short stay. She did not relish the impending prospect of walking into a room full of people dressed the way she was, let alone without even wearing any weapons.
They were just getting ready when a commotion at the door to their suite announced the arrival of a tall, majestic woman, dressed in flowing green silks that left her stomach bare and her full breasts bulging out of the tightly fitted blouse. She looked to be in her forties, and not in the least abashed by the effect.
“Aghat Mai.” She folded her palms together in a respectful Olivian greeting. “Lady Kara. I am Hamala, the grand vizier of Shayil Yara. Queen Rajmella sent me to greet you personally and to escort you into her presence.”
Kara mirrored the greeting gesture, looking at the woman with curiosity. Hamala’s keen eyes seemed to miss nothing as they glanced around their entire group with a quick appraisal, briefly pausing on Ellah, who stood next to Magister Egey Bashi wrapped in her white Keepers’ cloak.
“Please follow me,” Hamala said.