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“I’m not allowed to learn to fight,” the girl said. “Only the boys are. It’s not fair.”
It wasn’t fair the way Maridrinian women were limited, but Zarrah said, “Not all battles are won with fists and swords. Some are won with words and a clever head.”
A faint smile rose on Keris’s lips, but he said nothing.
“That sounds dull.” The girl drummed her heels against her brother’s chest as though he were a horse. “Walk faster, Keris.”
“Then I’ll be too winded to give our guest a proper tour of our home. What will Auntie Coralyn say?”
“Horses don’t talk,” the girl declared. “I will give the tour.”
With the guards on their heels, they walked through the gardens and buildings, Sara keeping up a steady stream of explanation about the purpose of every building and every room, pointing out guards on the walls and even going so far as to tell Zarrah that Silas’s rooms were near the top of the tower. It was a positive wealth of detail that Keris could never have provided without raising serious questions but which the guards seemed to ignore as the prattling of a child.
And it all served to confirm what Keris had already told her: finding a way to the king would be no easy task.
Maybe an impossible one.
Only when Sara finally ran out of things to tell her did Keris ask, “Do you feel sufficiently exerted, Lady Zarrah? The midday sun does not agree with me.”
She risked a sideways glance at him, seeing that his skin, which was far more used to the moon than the sun, was beginning to pinken. A teasing remark rose to her lips, but Zarrah bit down on it. One did notbanterwith one’s captor. “Yes.”
“Good.” They circled around to where the wives were gathered. Keris lifted his sister off his shoulders and set her next to a wife, the woman a handful of years older than Zarrah and extremely beautiful. “We’ll go riding soon, Sara,” he said. “I promise.”
“I hope your horse is faster than you are.” The girl stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Good day to you, brother. You may leave now.”
The women all laughed at the dismissal, the one who must be her mother saying, “You are so kind to her, Keris.”
He made a face. “Kindness has nothing to do with it. She’s been raised by the harem, which means she tells me what she wants, and I have no choice but to obey. And on that note, I will now flee before any more demands are made on my time.”
Twisting on his heel, he walked away.
Zarrah watched him go, ever curious as to what was real and what was an act when it came to him. Whether he knew himself.
Sensing eyes were upon her, she turned her head to find Sara’s mother watching her, gaze curious. Which was a welcome change from the hate most of the women directed at her. “Your daughter is quite clever. You must be very proud.”
“I am. Sadly, her father sees only her flaws.” The woman glanced down at the girl, who was embroiled with a wooden puzzle. “She is to be sent away to the church.”
Not the worst life, but a hard one. And not one, Zarrah thought, suited to the girl’s temperament, which meant she would suffer. Judging from the way her mother’s jaw quivered, she was in agreement. Part of Zarrah recoiled from confessing anything to these people, yet she found herself saying, “My mother was taken from me, so Sara has my sympathy. It is a harsh thing for a girl to grow up absent her mother.”
“There is nothing I can do.”
Likely true, but Zarrah despised the passivity. The resignation and acceptance of defeat before the battle had even been fought. “My mother begged for me to be spared right until the moment your husband cut off her head.”
The woman flinched, then looked away. “I’m sure she was a great warrior and prepared for such sacrifice.”
Staring at the bodies hanging from the wall, Zarrah closed her eyes, trying to remember her mother’s face while she’d been living but seeing her only in death. “She’d never lifted a weapon in her life. But all good mothers will die for the sake of their children.” Then she inclined her head. “If you’d excuse me, my lady. I’ve spent too many days confined, and I would walk some more.”
She started to move away, but the mother caught her wrist. “Zarrah.” Their eyes met, and the mother swallowed. “I spent a year in the room where you currently reside. During that time, I came to appreciate the tapestry that hangs behind the bed. It has the most exquisite…depth.”
Zarrah felt her curiosity flicker to life, because if this wife had once considered herself a prisoner… “I will give it close attention. Enjoy your afternoon.”
43
KERIS
What in the name of God had possessed Coralyn to dress Valcotta like that?
Waiting for the guards to open the gates to allow him to pass, Keris scrubbed his hands back through his hair, trying and failing to push away the image of Valcotta in that scrap of bronze silk under which she was clearly wearing nothing at all. He’d been hard within an instant, and if not for Coralyn insisting that Sara accompany them, he’d have spent the entire walk searching for a way to get her alone.
