The Harem Master (17 page)

Read The Harem Master Online

Authors: Megan Derr

Tags: #LGBTQ romance, Fantasy, Tavamara

BOOK: The Harem Master
5.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Demir bowed, mostly to hide whatever thoughts and emotions he was not able to keep from his face. The very last thing he needed were images of what it would be like to train Haluk and Kitt. Keeping a professional distance was normally an easy thing, but Ihsan and his men crumbled that meticulously built wall as if it was made of sand. "Yes, Highness. I should be able to send word to you tomorrow morning at the latest."

"You are wonderful, Lord Demir. I appreciate all you have done and continue to do for me." Ihsan smiled warmly.

Bowing again, chest aching, Demir said, "I live to serve, Your Highness. If you will forgive me, I had best return and get ready for the meeting."

"Yes, it would definitely look strange if the crown prince and the harem master arrived late," Ihsan said. He spread his hands. "Lord Demir, I will not permit you and the harems to be cast out. I know I was gone five years and have been back only days, but I mean to fix all that has gone wrong in my absence. I am sorry this is happening at all."

"That is not your apology to make, Highness, but it is appreciated all the same," Demir replied, giving a final bow. "I trust your words. Farewell for now, Highness."

"Be well, Lord Demir. Kitt, escort him."

Kitt rose and walked with Demir back into the storeroom. The escort was hardly necessary, but the courtesy was warming—more so than Demir should permit, but after years of enduring Kagan, a leader as capable and kind as Ihsan was affecting him like strong wine on an empty stomach. "Thank you," he said once they'd stepped into the passage.

"Lord Demir," Kitt said, "while I have the chance, might I ask a favor?"

"Of course. What did you need?"

Kitt grinned. "I want new piercings. I thought to have them done during the meeting. Where does one get such things done around here?"

"I will send the piercing artist to you; he is visiting today to attend a few others and will not mind attending you as well. If Lord Sabah or Lord Haluk is not around when it is done, ensure a guard remains with you throughout."

"Yes, Lord Demir. Thank you for all your help." Kitt bowed low as they came to a stop in front of the door that led to Demir's room. His grin widened when Demir scowled at him. Blowing a kiss, he left.

Demir stared after him for a moment before turning away with a shaking head and stepping into his room. Once he was there, he headed to the entrance hall and signaled Ruth. "With one thing and another, I nearly forgot—find the piercing artist, tell him that if he has the time, Lord Kitt would like to have some piercings done today. Pay him from the general funds."

"Yes, Harem Master," Ruth replied and signaled to one of the other guards as Demir returned to his bedroom.

Stripping off his clothes, he threw them in the basket for washing, then slipped into the washroom for a quick scrubbing. Back in the main part of his bedroom, he pulled on loose black pants. Rather than the usual black skirt that went over them, however, he tied into place one made of deep red fabric trimmed in red and black blocks, each one embroidered with the stylized orchid crest of the harems in gold thread. He wrapped the gold chain bearing his keys around his hips, thumbing each key, counting by feel, fingers twitching when he reached the place where his secret passage key should have been. At least it was safe with Kitt, though Demir would be happier to have it back.

Satisfied the keys were accounted for, he went to his dressing table and sat down, decorating his eyes with simple lines, the ends faintly echoing the leaves of the orchid crest. He changed out the gold studs in his ears for large gold and ruby hoops. Smaller ones went in his nipples and navel. He slid gold and ruby rings on his fingers, then fastened a gold collar around his throat and matching bands at his upper arms and wrists.

He looked at his appearance in the wide, floor-to-ceiling mirror next to the dressing table. Satisfied with the jewelry, he combed and braided his hair, leaving the long tail to fall down his back, secured at the base with a gold band.

He was as ready to fight for the harems as he could be, and Merciful Divine, please let the council hear reason and cease listening to the ignorant words of foreigners.

There was a soft rap at his door, which must mean a guard or servant. No one else, save a concubine with an emergency, was allowed to enter his private quarters without permission. Unfortunately guards and servants seldom came to him unexpectedly with good news. His concern grew when he saw Ruth. "Is something wrong?"

"Lord Bulut requests an audience," Ruth replied, mouth flat. "I told him you were occupied and would not be free until after the meeting, but I can only rebuff the Steward so far."

Demir reached out to rest his hand briefly on Ruth's folded arms. "I appreciate you tried at all, thank you. I'll deal with him. See to the concubines and let no one else enter the hall, no matter what. If they want entrance, they must wait for me to be present. If you feel it best, lock the hall down. I hope that nothing will come of the meeting and I'll have worried for nothing, but better to plan for the worst."

"Of course, Harem Master. Blessing of the Divine go with you." He briefly covered Demir's hand with his own, then dropped his arms and strode off.

Taking several deep breaths, bracing himself for a long, difficult, unpleasant night—that was apparently going to begin with Bulut—Demir left the safety of his room and headed back out to the harem hall.

As always, Bulut was dressed gaudily, and it was all the more offensive considering the meeting only minutes from starting, like he was not taking seriously the royal harems were on the verge of vanishing forever. His robes were a bright, bright blue, like shallow ocean waters in full sunlight. They were trimmed in gold and silver with tiny bells at his cuffs that tinkled whenever he moved. His hair was pulled back, mostly hidden under a flat-topped hat with heavy embroidery on the wide sides. Thick silver and gold hoops were in his ears; even his slippers were silver trimmed in gold.

They weren't going to see a play, for Divine's sake. Had the man no taste or respect? "Steward, I hope the day finds you well."

"Well as can be expected." He looked Demir up and down like a man perusing goods at the market. "I came to see if you have reconsidered my offer."

"Though I am flattered you would think of me, Steward, my answer remains the same. I will not save myself while those who look to me for protection are left stranded. My duty is to the harem hall."

Bulut nodded and bowed his head but not before Demir saw the anger simmering in his eyes. "Your devotion is admirable, Harem Master."

"Most admirable," a familiar voice said softly, making Demir startle. His gaze snapped to Ihsan, standing just inside the entrance to the harem. "Of what offer do you speak, Lord Bulut?"

"I was granted Right of Concubine by His Majesty," Bulut said stiffly. "I offered Lord Demir a place should the harems be dissolved."

"If the harems are abolished, then the Right of Concubine goes with them," Ihsan replied, staring until Bulut dropped his gaze. "Should the Harem Master's services no longer be required, he will be generously compensated for his years of perfect devotion. I am certain you must be on your way, Steward, to see that all is in readiness for the meeting."

Bulut bowed. "I would not be here if all was not in readiness, Highness."

"Go make certain of it again," Ihsan relied coldly.

"Yes, Highness." Bulut held his bow a moment longer then rose and left the room with quick, angry strides.

Demir belatedly bowed, realizing he was staring. Ihsan was so very hard not to stare at, fiercely beautiful as he was, every line of what he had endured, overcome, showing in his scars, the way he held himself. The finery he wore only enhanced his beauty. He wore a tight black top and a long black skirt slit up to the thighs over each leg, the edges trimmed in gold and red thread. He'd pulled on dark red sleeves decorated with gold flowers; gold and ruby flowers affixed the sleeves to his shirt, and a matching pin secured the knot into which he'd pulled his hair. But the most remarkable touch was the necklace resting in the hollow of his throat: a simple gold orchid.

Swallowing, Demir finally managed to ask, "Your Highness, how can I serve you?"

Ihsan made a soft, indecipherable noise, like a word cut off before it could quite take shape. "Sabah posed that it would be wise for us to arrive together, to make clear where I stand on this matter and that you and I are united. I agreed with him—was vexed I had not thought of it myself."

Slowly rising from his deep bow, Demir replied, "I am honored by your efforts, Highness, and that you have worked so hard since your arrival. Not even the recent attack seems to have slowed you."

"War, and being a prisoner of war, make a great many other things remarkably easy to bear," Ihsan said, mouth twisting. "Shall we?"

Demir nodded, lifting a hand in farewell to Ruth as he followed Ihsan out into the hall. "You did not bring any of your harem with you, Highness?" He'd known Kitt wasn't coming, but he'd thought one of the others would be in attendance.

"I almost did, but I felt it would be regarded as flaunting under the circumstances."

"You have a point." Certainly the council would take it that way, instead of seeing it for the loving devotion it was.

They lapsed into a silence that felt shockingly companionable considering they were still largely strangers. Sharing secrets tended to create a false closeness, though. Not letting that happen had been one more element of his training growing up.

But Ihsan seemed to excel effortlessly at slipping through his barriers. A man starved to death was grateful for the barest bite of bread, he supposed. That was not fair to Ihsan, however, who was much, much more than a bite of bread.

Thoughts of Ihsan fled as they approached the enormous dark blue double doors marked with the crest of the council in silver: a crown in the center surrounded by ten small circles which in turn were surrounded by ten slightly larger circles. Each circle bore a different crest, marking the ten Councilors of the Court and the ten Councilors of the Land.

Guards pulled the doors open, bowing low as Ihsan walked past. The quiet buzz of conversation faded off as everyone turned away from the table and bowed low enough to press their foreheads to the floor. Behind Ihsan and Demir, the doors closed with a dull thud.

Eight

Ihsan bid the councilors sit up, regarding each one and making note of who met his eyes and who did not. Most of the room was taken up by an enormous table, made of pale, near-white wood. There were ten councilors to each side, eleven men and nine women. At the end of the table nearest the doors, Bulut slowly rose from his bow and turned back around in his seat, immediately returning to the stack of papers through which he'd been sorting. Each councilor had a plate of snacks and pot of tea in front of them; later, if the meeting lasted long enough, fresh food and wine would be brought.

Gesturing for Demir to follow him, Ihsan walked around the table and down its length to the seat at the far end, facing the door. "Sit with me, Lord Demir." He took his seat on a large, deep blue cushion, settling his skirt around him. Demir settled on the cushion to his right, where normally one of Ihsan's concubines would have sat to serve him through the meeting. The image of Demir serving him stole Ihsan's breath momentarily. As if Demir would ever settle for being the concubine of a young, foolish, ugly king.

Shoving the beautiful, impossible notion aside, Ihsan took a small sip of tea to wet his throat. "I think we can leave off formalities and come straight to the point, Councilors. You want to discuss the dissolution of the harems. I think that is a foolish idea, so if you want to persuade me you had better hope your arguments are as worthy of my time as you arrogantly believe. Who wants to begin?"

No one immediately spoke, which he found unsurprising. They were proposing to end a sacred, centuries-old tradition. It had changed much over the years, but always for the better. Even in the worst days of Tavamara's history, proposed changes had been for the good of the harems. To get rid of them entirely…

Ihsan looked over each councilor again as the silence stretched on. His gaze rested on Lord Cenk, Councilor of Finance. He offered Ihsan the barest nod and smile. Ihsan had not had chance to speak with him before the meeting, but even discounting that his own son was a concubine, Cenk did not seem the type to want to disband them. His bloodline had several concubines to it, most of them prestigious and well-recorded in history books. So traditional and honorable a man would not betray his lineage by abolishing what they had once done.

He moved on, increasingly angry that none of the councilors would meet his gaze. If they did not—

Ihsan stopped as he came to the man in the fourth seat from him on the right, where Lord Geye or, at worst if he was truly too ill, Lord Arda should have been sitting. "You are not the Councilor or Deputy Councilor of Agriculture," he said, and everyone jumped at the sharp bark of his words. "Who are you and where are the councilors who should be here?"

The man in the Agriculture seat recoiled and bowed so low his head nearly hit the table. "Lord Geye was too weak to stand, Your Highness, and no one can locate Lord Arda. My name is Simana—"

Cutting him off with a sharp gesture, Ihsan addressed the whole room. "You dare to summon me to a meeting that affects a nigh-holy tradition, a meeting that will forever reshape our culture, and think a third-level replacement is sufficient? It is obvious you do not take this matter seriously enough, Councilors. Tell me why I should not dismiss this meeting right now and make you wait until I feel you are worth my time."

Lord Cenk replied, "We apologize for the unintentional rudeness, Your Highness. We did not know until only minutes before your arrival that Lord Arda was missing. We thought it better to summon Master Simana and carry on than cancel the meeting at the last moment. Master Simana knows that he has no speaking rights in this meeting, and as today is only to discuss the matter, not cast a vote, we thought it would be acceptable. But if you prefer to call the meeting off, Your Highness, of course we will do so and apologize again for troubling you."

Other books

03. War of the Maelstrom by Jack L. Chalker
Nightmare Before Christmas by Daphne Skinner
A Vicky Hill Exclusive! by Hannah Dennison
Year of No Sugar by Eve O. Schaub
Boxcar Children 54 - Hurricane Mystery by Warner, Gertrude Chandler
Flowing with the Go by Elena Stowell
El enigma de Copérnico by Jeam-Pierre Luminet
The Fall of the Year by Howard Frank Mosher
Take a Chance on Me by Carol Wyer