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“What if I take land—if I give the land to the people who deserve it, like Daciana’s mother? I get their loyalty. The boyars claim things based on centuries of blood. The land is theirs by birthright. So I take it from those who oppose us. I give it to people whose vision for Wallachia matches my own. They have nothing to claim other than my favor, and they owe all allegiance to me.” She met Bogdan’s approving stare and offered him a smile. He ducked his head, a pleased flush spreading across his cheeks.
“You cannot kill all the boyars.” Nicolae helped himself to some tea.
“Oh?”
Nicolae looked up sharply, narrowing his eyes. “They did not ask for their birthright. They have done nothing to you, and you have no guarantee that they ever will. I do not think you were wrong to kill that last pig, but slaughtering every noble in the country will have repercussions even
you cannot handle.” When Lada did not respond, he threw his hands up in exasperation, spilling his tea. “They are related to nobility in other countries. You will draw too much attention and too much ire. Someone will retaliate. Besides, they have families. They have influence. And they are people.”
Lada gazed into the flames, letting them fill her vision. “Of course. I will listen to Toma Basarab and accept allegiance from those who offer it. But no one keeps anything without meriting it. That goes for every Wallachian.” She blinked, spots of light dancing in front of her eyes. “Including you, Daciana. So I ask again: why are you here?”
“You have no lady’s maid.”
Nicolae snorted. “You are mistaken. Our Lada is no lady. She is a dragon.”
Bogdan growled low and angry in his throat. Lada laughed, patting Bogdan’s knee. Then she tossed a handful of dirt and dry evergreen needles at Nicolae. “No one asked for your opinion.”
“My opinions are gifts I distribute freely, asking neither permission nor payment.”
“Take your gifts elsewhere,” Bogdan grumbled.
Lada waved her hand. “Nicolae is right. I need no lady’s maid, because I am not a lady. I am a soldier.”
Daciana smiled, smug and self-satisfied. “Precisely. A soldier does not have time to wash her monthly courses from her clothes.”
Lada’s cheeks burned, and she looked at the ground rather than at Nicolae and Bogdan. Daciana’s stomach loomed in the edge of her vision. And then she had a thought.
A terrible thought.
Lada stood, nearly falling into the fire. She grabbed Daciana’s hand. “Come with me.” The girl yelped, struggling to her feet. Lada dragged her away from the camp and into the trees.
“Tell me about being with child. How did it happen? How long did it take until you knew there was a—” Lada swept her hand toward Daciana’s stomach, unable to tear her eyes away from it now. “How long until you knew that thing was in there?”
Daciana’s dark eyes betrayed no emotion. “When was your last bleeding?”
Lada turned her back, stalking several feet away. “I am not asking about that, I only want to know—”
“I am neither stupid nor a gossip. When was your last bleeding?”
“Weeks. Maybe eight? Or nine.” It had been before Hunyadi, when they were in the mountains of Transylvania. Her underclothes had frozen when she hung them to dry after washing.
“Do you bleed regularly?”
Lada shook her head. “No. Only a few times a year.”
“That is fortunate. I am—” Daciana paused, taking a deep breath. “I was so steady you could track the moon by my blood. And when did a man last know you?”
Lada whipped around, snarling, “No man knows me.”
Again, Daciana did not respond with any apparent emotion. “Your breasts would be tender and swelling already. You would be sick. Exhausted beyond anything you have ever known.”
Lada shook her head in relief, then realized she was confirming Daciana’s assumptions. Of course she was. She was a fool. Moving with Mehmed in the darkness, the feel of his skin, the feel of him inside her…
She closed her eyes, because she had worked so hard not to think of it. But as soon as she allowed the memories back in, she wanted to kill him. And she wanted to be with him again.
She did not know which impulse was stronger.
“My sister is like you.” Daciana spoke as though they were discussing the weather. “She bleeds rarely. She is one of the only ones who has never been with child, despite many visits from our boyar, may his soul be damned forever.” Daciana spat on the ground. “She was the lucky one. You will probably have similar fortunes.”
