Kismet's Kiss: A Fantasy Romance (Alaia Chronicles) (13 page)

“We work together in the palace as we need. We’re alone in this room right now.” She swept a hand toward the shelves and retrograde physician’s instruments, the only witnesses to their conversation.

“Among the palace residents, with the sultan’s blessing and knowledge, is one thing. Outside the palace walls is entirely another.”

“I am the Royal Healer of Teganne! Can I not walk about in the Sultanate of Kad by myself? Must I be led like a sheltered child?”

His eyes sparked with annoyance, and then with something new. “Bring your maidservant, then. If anyone has questions, you two are chaperoning each other.”

“Priya? Well, I suppose I could…” She sounded dubious, even to her own ears.

“She’ll do marvelously.” Sohad turned away and gathered up the withered Kaddite twigs.

“You may be right,” Varene said, recalling the looks he and Priya had exchanged. “Hmm, I’ll go get her.” She sailed toward the nearby quarters the maidservant was preparing.

V
arene couldn’t be sure when her duties to her patients might allow her to rest, but upon entering her quarters, she saw that Priya had thoughtfully turned back the scarlet and gold sheets and was now freshening the ornate room, opening the curtains to let air circulate.

Varene crossed toward her on the rich rugs. “Sohad and I must go to the marketplace to look for sugarwort for the patients. He was concerned about propriety, and wants someone else to come.” She cleared her throat, and let the merest hint of a smile lift her lips. “He specifically asked that you join us so we could chaperone each other.”

Priya’s dark lashes ascended, revealing the excitement in her umber eyes. All too soon, her gaze lowered, screening her emotion. “Of course. I’m happy to help you both.”

I’ll wager you are!
“Excellent. Let’s be off, then.” She headed for the door.

“Oh no, my lady. You can’t go in that dress.” Priya glanced at Varene and bit her lip in regret.

Flummoxed, Varene looked down at her indigo gown. It wasn’t a delicate evening frock by any means, but it was both fashionable and perfectly respectable for workdays in Teganne.
And it fits me rather well
, she thought, piqued. “Does one dress up to go to the market in Kad?”

“No, not at all. It’s just that…well, your clothing marks you as Tegannese. As a foreigner.”

Varene planted her hands on her hips. “Is that so heinous a crime?”

“N-no, not to me, my lady.” Priya’s eyes widened. “Please, I meant no offense…”

She sounded so remorseful that Varene relented at once. “I’m sorry. I’m just prickly about such things today. You’re only trying to help, I know.” Varene sat at the edge of the vast bed, smoothing her offending foreign skirt. “What do you worry would happen if I went in my own garb?”

“Well, of course you would not get the best prices,” Priya reluctantly began.

Varene gave a wry smile. “Given our mission and the extent of the sultan’s coffers,” she said, glancing at the room’s magnificent furnishings, “that concerns me very little. What’s the real reason?”

Priya bit her lip again. “Kaddites are often…cynical. Mistrusting. And these days, there are rumblings.” She eyed the open door and dropped her voice to a whisper. “The Great Sultan is a wise ruler, and a just man.” She bowed her head in homage. “But there are others in Kad who seek to end his reign. And his life.”

Varene’s lips dropped open in dismay. They’d kill Kuramos—a man as ferocious and intense as the sun he worshiped? Murder him, and likely his children, too, to free the throne for someone else? She took an uncertain breath. “I didn’t know there’s a rebellion at hand.”

Priya shook her head. “Not an armed one. More subtle, more devious. There are many powerful families among the nobility.” Again her voice hushed. “They’ve long coveted this.” One of her small hands swept around her, indicating the palace and its splendor. “And the power of the Leonine Throne.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised to hear there’s envy, or even treachery. Power incites it.” Yet somehow Varene couldn’t imagine anyone else on the throne but Kuramos. Majestic, fierce, and inexorable, like his goddess. And a ruthless defender of his family.
May Mother Fate see him succeed.
“But I still don’t see why a gown like mine would cause problems at a market.”

“My lady, Kaddites are no longer sure who to trust, even amongst ourselves. Fewer still are willing to put their faith in those from other lands.” She spread her hands in apology. “Please, let me find Kaddite clothing for you. Something that would not draw attention to you as an outsider.”

Varene set her teeth. All she needed was some healthy sugarwort and soon, and this seemed like a lot of trouble for it. Perhaps she could just send someone else.

But given the shabby remnants in the palace stores, she couldn’t trust others to care, or perhaps to know, enough to get the quantity and quality needed. The health of her patients depended on the caliber of her healing, and her healing depended on the caliber of her materials.

“I understand. But is there perhaps a covering, a robe or a cloak, that I could wear over my clothes? I don’t have the time to find and be fitted for other clothing.”

Priya looked doubtfully at Varene’s gown, but nodded slowly. “Perhaps. Wait here, please?”

“Certainly.”

The maidservant pattered out. Varene rose from the bed and wandered to her patio. It opened to a cozy garden adjoining a much larger one surrounded by other wings of the palace, and both were clearly flourishing under the bright blue skies of Kad. When she turned to look behind her, though, the sun was already well below the palace roof. “Damn.” She bounced on her heels in agitation.

“Psst! Healer!” came a whisper.

She spun around, glancing about the garden for the source, but no one was there.

“Up here.”

Up?
She raised her gaze toward the roof on the other side of her garden. At the edge of the tawny tiles sat Gunjan the jencel-bird.

“Gunjan! Hello.”

“Are you still in one piece, Healer?” He cocked his iridescent black head.

“Of course. Why? Oh, yes, when I last saw you, things were a bit…chaotic.” She smiled up at him. “Which reminds me, thank you for your help, diving at the guards the way you did. You’re quite the protector!”

His head rose proudly on his neck. “My pleasure, Healer. And you seem to have escaped from the sultan unscathed, too. Well done.”

“Should I have expected otherwise?” Her arrival had been climactic enough.

Gunjan waved a wing smugly. “Well, the sultan always sends
me
back to the Cage after I messenger for him. But in all the hullabaloo of your arrival, he must have forgotten.” A birdy chuckle floated down. “Anyway, I heard your voice and flew over to see how you were.” He ducked his head and peered into her quarters. “
Very
nice, for a human. You must have pleased him.”

“Not likely. Five members of his family are still deathly ill, and five servants, as well.” She sighed. “This room is near the Infirmary. I’m sure that’s why it was assigned to me.”

He clucked at her. “There are others closer, and not nearly as grand.” He dropped from his perch and settled on a tree limb a few feet from her. “I heard you say you were leaving. Where are you going?”

“Only to the city marketplace,” she said. “To buy sections of a plant I need to help my patients. Maybe even cure them.” She exhaled a frustrated breath. “But I don’t even know if there will
be
any there, or anywhere else in Kad, for that matter. I have all I could ever need at home in Teganne, but I can’t reach it now.” In fact, she’d had fresh sugarwort in her sorting piles when Gunjan had pecked at her window.

Gunjan! He’d flown to Teganne at speed, and could again. “By Fate, I can’t reach my sugarwort now—but
you
can!”

“Me?” He flapped his wings and retreated a step. “Oh, no. Nooooo. You want me to fly all the way back to Teganne?” He swiveled his head back and forth as if shaking off a rainstorm.

“Yes. You could reach there by morning, couldn’t you? And if I can’t find any sugarwort at the market, at least there’ll be some coming.”
If it isn’t too late.

“My wings are still tired—it’s a very long way, Healer! In the dark, you know.”

“Ah,” she said, shaking her finger at him, “but you know the route now. It’ll be familiar. And you said, ‘these wings are among the swiftest known to birdkind’—remember?”

“But… How do you expect me to bring anything back? I can’t fly with a rucksack on my back!”

“No, of course not. You can tell someone else to come—with, say, half my dried sugarwort twigs—through the same FireRing you and I used to come here to Kad.”

When he still hesitated, she played her best cards. “Gunjan, you’re proud of your sultan. I heard it in your voice and your words back in Teganne. You were able to persuade me to come not just because you were bringing a message, but because you care. Because
you
want the sick to be healed. See? You’re a protector, just as I said. Just like the sultan, himself.”

Gunjan’s head soared up as if his ego could send him aloft without wings. But then he drooped and sighed long and hard, a much-put-upon sound that made Varene smother a chuckle. “All right, I’ll go.”

“Wonderful! Now listen, please. I don’t have time to find the sultan now—I must get to the market. But you know his palace. Fly to him. Tell him the mission I’ve given you, and that he’ll need to let someone through the FireRing with the sugarwort. And thank you!”

At the sound of Priya’s footsteps, Varene turned back to her quarters. Gunjan startled her by zooming past her head and through the room toward the door.

Varene called after his disappearing form. “Gunjan—have Kuramos tell his guards not to wave their spears around this time!”

Priya’s mouth hung open as she stared after the bird who’d winged by her, too.

Varene gave an amused shrug. “He’s on a mission. Now what did you find for me?”

Draped over the maidservant’s arm was a sepia veil to cover Varene’s blonde hair, a color rare in Kad, and a mass of fabric in a cinnamon hue. Varene tugged her ponytail down to the nape of her neck to make it less obtrusive and wrapped the veil over her head. Priya tucked the ends over Varene’s shoulders and gave an approving nod.

The cinnamon garment turned out to be a loose robe with long sleeves. Priya fastened three toggles across Varene’s front, entirely covering the Tegannese gown. The lightweight wool robe was rather shapeless, but Varene swiveled for a moment, enjoying the feminine drape and sway of the many folds at her ankles.

Priya’s brows drew together in a frown. “This might be enough, but your skirts are visible below the hem. I do wish you’d let me find you some proper Kaddite clothes—”

“Thank you, but this will do for the moment. Clothes can’t be our priority.” She grabbed Priya’s hand and strode decisively toward the door. Fortunately, the maidservant ceased her arguments as they moved into the hall.

“By the way, Priya, whose robe is this?”

“The Sha’Lai’s,” she responded in a hushed tone. “She let me borrow it to cover you, on pain of a whipping should anything happen to it.”

Varene swung her head around and gaped at the maidservant.

“Oh,
my
whipping, of course, not yours.”

Varene jolted to a stop in the middle of the hall, aghast.

Only when one of Priya’s beautiful brown eyes gave an exaggerated wink did Varene dissolve into laughter.

CHAPTER TEN

W
hen Varene and Priya reached the Infirmary, Sohad was waiting with money he’d procured from the steward Hamar. He held himself tall and straight as a pine, doing his best to look calm and important, but Varene spied the anxious glance he shot at Priya.
Yes!
Varene thought, delighted.

Priya, for her part, acted nonchalant, taking on an air of being too busy to notice Sohad, punctuated by the occasional surreptitious glance to see if
he
was glancing at
her
.

Well-played
, thought Varene, and vowed to bring these two into each other’s company as often as possible, all while pasting an oblivious look on her face.