Page 10 of A Filling of Fables and Firelight

“So what else did the poor boy do?” the old woman asked. “I’m assuming there’s more to the story than him entering the room?”

Aida snorted. “This is Rana we’re talking about. The fact that he interrupted her while she was working is crime enough for her.”

“First of all, I resent whatever you’re implying.” Rana glared at Aida without malice before turning to Teta. “Second, since when are we referring to the Sultan as ‘the poor boy’? He’s got more power and wealth than anyone in the empire, and he barely even works for it—which I don’t understand because he’s obviously intelligent enough that it wouldn’t even take that much effort. Now he has six gorgeous women all competing with one another to be his wife. If that warrants sympathy, I don’t know how the rest of the male population of El-Huram are surviving.”

Teta gave her a pointed look. “He’s just lost his father. You, of all people, should understand what that’s like.”

A pang of guilt and sympathy pricked her heart. “He certainly doesn’t seem heartbroken about it,” she argued weakly. “It hasn’t seemed to put a stop to his propensity for parties and flirting.”

“We all carry grief differently,” Aida added quietly, thick emotion coating the words. “Maybe he’s trying to forget. As Sultan, he doesn’t necessarily have the luxury of shutting the world out.”

Teta nodded. “Zamar tells me he’s taken things quite hard.”

“Who’s Zamar?”

“One of the Sultan’s viziers, and a friend of your grandfather’s. He’s known Kamaran since he was young. The Sultan’s death was unexpected for all of us, but for Kamaran even more so. I imagine he thought he had many more years before the weight of ruling was placed on his shoulders.”

“Very well, he’s a poor boy.” Rana held up her hands in defeat. “It still doesn’t give him an excuse to be rude.”

“Was he?” Teta asked.

“He practically accused me of lying in wait to trap him, as if I couldn’t possibly have any other reason for being in the palace other than trying to get his attention.” She rolled her eyes as she returned to her search. “I’m a seamstress.”

Aida tilted her head curiously. “Does he know that?”

“I had a needle in my hand.”

“Maybe he didn’t notice.”

“I…might have threatened him with it.”

Aida let out a bark of surprised laughter while Teta gasped, “Rana!”

“He was being rude!” She popped her fists on her hips. “Besides, he didn’t seem offended. If anything, it seemed to make him understand how ridiculous he was being.”

“I see.” Teta’s gaze turned contemplative. “What then?”

“He asked me my name, and then he left—presumably to go bother the women who actually desire his company.”

“That’s it?” Aida raised an eyebrow. “From the way you prefaced this story, I was certain there was going to be something much more scandalous. It sounds as though you just caught him by surprise.”

Rana finally located the bolt of fabric she was searching for and pulled it out from the pile. “He practically demanded my presence there. Why would he be surprised when the seamstress he hired is exactly where he said I should be?”

“To be fair, Dan is actually the one he hired. He just delegated the responsibility to you.”

“What did I do?” Rana’s employer poked his head through the open door, wearing a good-natured smile on his handsome face. He was around the same age as Kamaran—the Sultan, Rana reminded herself—but to her the difference between the two could not have been more stark. Dan was open and honest and patient nearly to a fault, while the Sultan’s charm came in the form of suave manners and carefully chosen words of flattery.

“You sent Rana to the palace in your place.” Aida moved to stand beside him, leaning into his shoulder as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “We were just discussing whether or not Kamaran would have known who she is.”

Dan’s smile morphed into something more serious as he looked at Rana. “Did he do something?”

Rana brushed the question away. “I’m sure Aida will tell you all about it later. While you’re here, though, do I have your permission to take this?” She held up the bolt of sky-blue linen. “I’m supposed to make the contestants dresses that both match, so that they’re all starting at an equal point, and that will help them blend into a crowd of us lowly commonfolk.”

Dan nodded thoughtfully. “Linen is a good choice. It’s accessible enough that it won’t look out of place, even if the color is more unique.”

Her lips pulled up in a dry half-smile. “I have to make it appealing somehow. I have a feeling they won’t take kindly to being dressed like peasants.”

“Oooh.” Aida leaned forward eagerly. “Is this for one of the trials?”