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That was only the first step. He’d need to gain Aren’s trust before the man would ever agree to an organized rescue attempt. And Keris needed time to convince Coralyn that the harem should risk their own lives to help a foreign king.
His aunt’s brow furrowed, then she shook her head. “If I suggest as much, he’ll believe me a pawn in one of Serin’s tricks to try to catch the Ithicanians who are undoubtedly in Vencia. He’s no fool.”
“Debatable,” Keris answered. “But in any case, that’s why you aren’t going to offer him anything—you’re going to wait for him to ask for it, which he will.”
“Why? He has no reason to trust us and many reasons not to.”
“Because you’re going to give him certainty with the knowledge you have a common enemy.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “The Magpie.” At his nod, she cocked her head. “And what, pray tell, is in this for you?”
Possibly nothing. Possibly an alliance that would see Valcotta freed of this place. “I’m merely fulfilling my half of our agreement. This was what you wanted in exchange for keeping Zarrah Anaphora under your wing while I negotiated with the Empress.”
“Bullshit, boy. You weren’t sitting out in the rain fretting about your deal withme. What are you up to?”
Rising to his feet, Keris held his arms wide. “Playing the game, Auntie.” And without another word, he left the room.
46
ZARRAH
Zarrah tried not to scowl as the servants gathered the cutlery used for the garden lunch, one of the guards carefully counting each piece before following the servant to the kitchens, where everything was washed and locked up for the next meal. It was the same for glassware and every other mundane object the harem might require that could potentially be used as a weapon: kept under lock and key and strictly accounted for. And though she’d been here for days, she’d hadn’t been able to steal so much as a spoon without them noticing.
It’s no matter,she reminded herself.A length of fabric torn from a sheet is a weapon. The clasp on a broach is a weapon. A pillow is a weapon.
I am a weapon.
Seated next to her, Sara shifted restlessly, eyeing a plate of desserts at the center of the table, of which she’d already had three. Zarrah asked, “Would you walk with me?”
The little princess looked to Coralyn, who gave a slight nod, and then said, “Gladly, Zarrah. But only if you tell me more stories of battles.”
Smiling, Zarrah rose and helped the child to her feet. What the girl needed was a cane, but that was another thing Silas apparently considered a weapon. It made Zarrah sick how little regard he showed his own children, but Sara seemed unconcerned, gripping Zarrah’s arm to steady herself as they moved slowly down the path.
“Let us walk around the tower and then back.” Zarrah knew the limits of the child’s endurance well, for Sara had been her constant—and only—companion. The harem still kept their distance, and Keris… Keris, she hadn’t seen since their walk in the garden on her first morning in Vencia.
She wasn’t the only one who’d noticed his absence.
“Boy keeps the hours of a two-copper courtesan,” she’d heard Coralyn complaining earlier to Lestara, a rare beauty who, despite not being Maridrinian by birth, seemed to hold the greatest grievance against Zarrah. “Out all night and then sleeps all day. It’s insufferable.”
Lestara had only shrugged. “Can you blame him? There’s little to entertain him within these walls. Once he inherits, I think you’ll find we can scarcely get rid of him. Not that I’dwantto get rid of him.”
“Mind your words, girl,” Coralyn had snapped. “If Silas hears talk like that, you’ll suffer. As will Keris, despite him showing no more interest in you than he does Elouise.”
The wife Elouise was the eldest in the harem, wrinkled, deaf, and smelling of prune juice. Zarrah had struggled not to laugh at the look the comparison brought to Lestara’s face, although she could hardly blame the woman. Silas was old, smelly, and sadistic, whereas Keris was young, handsome, and charming. The woman probably prayed nightly that her husband died in his sleep and wept every morning to discover he had not.
But regardless of Lestara’s dreams for her future, she was right in one thing: Keris had been notably absent. And not knowing the reason why was driving her to madness.
“Tell me a battle story, Zarrah,” Sara said, interrupting her thoughts. “One from long ago when you were young.”
“As opposed to recent battles, where I am old and feeble?” Smiling, Zarrah dug into her memories, bringing forth a tale the princess would find worthy. The words flowed from her lips even as her eyes went to the tower, and the guards standing at the entrance of the base, both armed and deadly. More patrolled the bridges linking the tower to the buildings, leaving every entrance under guard. And the men never abandoned their posts.
She circled the base of the tower, pausing when she heard the child’s breathing begin to labor. “Rest here.”
They sat together on a bench, the tower blocking them from the harem’s sight, though Zarrah’s pair of guards stood nearby, expressions bored.
“I will be leaving the palace soon,” Sara said, toying with the fabric of her dress. “My father is sending me away.” Twin tears rolled down the girl’s face. “I don’t want to leave.”
Your life will be better away from this place, away from your father,Zarrah wanted to say, but instead asked, “Have you ever been outside of Vencia? It is a very beautiful country.”
