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We spoke a while longer before heading to bed. I would admit nervousness at the knowledge monsters might find a secret entrance into the city like I had. How long before they found their way to us? Shouldn’t the King warn people of the imminent danger so they could relocate? At the same time, was anywhere really safe?
But what could a pleasure dancer do? I wasn’t a hero. Nor, as it turned out, a very good spy when I didn’t have my potions.
The day after my return, I didn’t want to be on stage, and yet, at the same time, I had no reason to not resume my usual life. I entered the stage to the thunderous applause and danced, not planning on taking anyone upstairs after. Let them tip and think I’d been insulted they’d not tipped enough. The crowd was full, and veils masked most of the patrons. As if that would keep their secret. It wasn’t hard to recognize most. The corpulent fellow being a regular, Lord Xiim. The tall and skinny man, Aqqa. And the one in the front row, legs astride, arms crossed, expression staring intently…
I almost fell over as I realized the King sat in the audience. With only two of his guards. Others might not realize who sat among them, but I could sense it. That presence emanating from him made me nervous, but I couldn’t fumble now. I finished my routine to grand applause and escaped to my boudoir on the third floor. I ripped off my face covering once the door closed and paced.
Surely it was a coincidence he’d shown. He had no idea. The Sharia he’d met had nothing in common with me.
Palla arrived, looking excited. “You should see the ridiculous amount that soldier in the front bid.”
“That soldier is the King,” I replied flatly.
Palla’s jaw dropped.
My mind spun. Did he know? Had Jrijori told him? If he had, then the King must have lied and tortured him.
What should I do? Turn him down and he might get violent. Accept to meet with him, and do what? Pretend he was just another client? That would never work. It wasn’t as if I could drug him and make him believe anything.
The decision was taken from me. Without a knock, the door flung open and the King stalked in.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
The moment the door to my boudoir flung open, I dove for my veil. Only once I covered my face did I whirl and indulge in some well-deserved indignation.
“How dare you invade my quarters. Leave at once.” I lifted my chin as Palla took a spot to my side, hand on her weapon, not yet unsheathed. A weird situation to find ourselves. No one had ever dared breach the rules of the gradeena before.
We’d never had a king visit either.
The ruler of the country strode in, the dark veil hiding his features, but I could imagine the disdain as he took in the overtly opulent space. Velvet fabrics. Plush cushions on everything. I knew what he’d think. I’d created the illusion to be seamless, after all. It still hurt when he said, “You’re a tizana.”
The proper term and yet, in that moment, I felt dirty. I wouldn’t let him shame me, though. I’d done nothing wrong. I’d survived and provided for myself. I didn’t beg for anything. And I worked damned hard. I was so good he believed I was a whore.
The truth swung to the opposite. I’d never been like that with a man. I’d dabbled here and there. Kissing. Some touching. But never the whole thing. Given my age, more curse than miracle. I’d held on to my virginity as if it were some prize deserving of the perfect man.
Perfect men didn’t exist.
But charismatic ones did.
The King advanced on me, a prowling menace who stared me in the eye. No way he recognized me, not with the heavy makeup enhancing my lashes. Glitter dusted my brows. Every part of me remained covered except the slit where my eyes peeked. Even my height shifted, as I wore sandals with thick soles.
He stopped in front of me, a wide, looming presence, pretending to be a soldier. It meant I could be terse as I snapped, “Leave my room right this instant.” I fought to not tremble as he tucked his hands behind his back.
“No.”
“Either leave on your own or I will have my guard eject you.”
That had him glancing at Palla. “She can try.”
“There are rules.”
“That don’t apply to me.” He didn’t hide the arrogance.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t just barge in.”
“Hardly barging, given the price I paid.” A dry reply. He reached for his veil and removed it. As handsome as I recalled. “You know who I am.”
I clung to my pretense that he was a soldier and not a man who could order my death. “Your behavior is unbecoming as one of the King’s guards. I shall file a complaint.”
