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Wait—“What?”
“All right, and drinking. And a very amusing speech, apparently, so well done there. By all accounts it was one of the better speeches we’ve given at one of the kahyalar’s parties, they’re all telling me so. But no one minded the rest of it. Why are you so upset?”
She wasn’t even talking about Siranos. He breathed again, and it came easier this time. “I—I thought you might have, um, felt like I was behaving disgracefully.”
She shrugged again. “There are times for perfect decorum and there are times to, ah, loosen one’s sashes. As it were.” She shot him a wry sidelong glance, and he felt his face go scarlet and wished his hands were free so he could hide his face. He suspected now that Zeliha had given him an infant to hold for exactly this reason. “Nothing wrong with a moonlit walk around such romantic environs as a laundry pond. It was a laundry pond, wasn’t it?” The discreet walkhadtaken them around some kind of pond, but Kadou hadn’t noted much about it. “But I’d better stop teasing, or you’ll blush so hard you’ll have an aneurysm.” She dropped her voice. “In all seriousness, though . . . Tadek Hasira? Really?”
He looked back down and found a loose thread to fiddle with on the lace-trimmed hem of Eyne’e swaddling. “What about him?”
“You’re seeing a lot of him lately. Again. Notjustmoonlit walks, I hear.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Heseems to think it is. Look, I have no problem with you taking a lover intheory,and if your heart is called—or whatever bit; maybe it’s not about hearts—”
“Zeliha.”
“Sorry, fine, sorry—if yourheartis called by one of our kahyalar then I trust you’re doing your due diligence in having sensible, honest conversations with him about the complex issues that might come up, expectations and so on. My concerns have nothing to do with that. I merely . . . question your taste about thisparticularone.”
The low thrum of anxiety he felt every time he thought of Tadek these days—too much initiative, too cunning for his own good, asking questions Kadou didn’t want to know the answers to—was enough to quench his blush, at least. “It’s not like that anymore. It used to be, and then we . . . stopped. He was reassigned. Now we just . . .” He waved vaguely. “Talk. Sometimes.”
Zeliha looked even more dubious. “You’renotsleeping with him?” Their attachment, such as it was, had been brief. When Zeliha had announced her pregnancy, Kadou had beenwretchedwith terror about losing her. Tadek, stationed right at the door of his very chambers, had witnessed him have a few of his episodes of nerves. He had been sokindabout it, and so warm, and had worked hard to make light of it, to make Kadou smile, to hold his hand and comfort him, and . . . things had happened. They both knew nothing could come of it—they’d even talked about it afterward, still naked and sticky in Kadou’s bed—and Tadek had only laughed off all Kadou’s worries and ethical concerns, and had kissed his eyes and told him that he was at His Highness’s service for as long as His Highness required and inwhatevercapacity he desired—this last, of course, murmured directly against Kadou’s neck with a slow smile. It had not made Kadou’s sense of ethics feel any better to know that Tadek thought of this as part of his service or his duty, but he had been so afraid, and he’d felt so alone, and he had known in hisbonesthat he couldn’t breathe a word to a single soul of his episodes of being overcome with cowardice over imaginary terrors. Tadek had been all he’d had, his only confidant, and Kadou had been too desperate for comfort to turn down his offers as he should have. But the months had passed, and eventually it was time for the core-guard assignments to be shuffled again, and since Kadou had not requested Tadek’s attendance to continue, their intimacy had come to a natural end—until Tadek had come across him in one of his episodes again, and Kadou had given in to yet another moment of weakness and confided in him about Siranos.
“I’m not sleeping with him anymore,” Kadou said firmly. “I’m not. I just . . . He’s nice.” Sometimes. Sort of. He was also catty, a fiend for gossip, and didn’t take anything seriously, which was sometimes . . . exasperating, though Kadou felt hideously guilty even thinking such a thing in the privacy of his own mind.
“Nice,” she mused. “He’s nice.The boys must simply swoon for poetry like that. Do they?” She took one look at his face and snorted. “The thunderstorm look is better on you than blushing. Seriously, though—nice? That’s the best you can say about him?”
“Well . . .” He fidgeted, shifted Eyne to a better position. What hope did he have of explaining it to her? It was difficult to give Tadek’s words any weight. Words were cheap, and Tadek had so many of them, and he flung them hither and yon like he was feeding chickens. Still, he was essentially a good person, and Kadou liked him. Liked being around him. Liked it when Tadek made him laugh, or took his mind off of whatever was troubling him.
But it was difficult to navigate any kind of intimate connection with him, not only because of their relative positions, but because it was frustrating to try to figure out what Tadek wanted from him other than sex. Perhaps he didn’t want anything else besides Kadou’s good regard, which he would have had anyway.
Perhaps it was similar to whatever Zeliha saw in Siranos. In both her position and Kadou’s, having a friend or having a lover were both equally complicated, so you took what you could get and you didn’t ask for anything more than what the person was willing to give you—and when you found someone who saw you and treated you like aperson,you grabbed hold of that and cherished it.
Zeliha sighed heavily. “You need better standards. Surely there’ssomeonein the palace of whom you have a higher opinion thanhe’s nice.”
“Not really. Not like that.”
Zeliha sat up, looking off behind Kadou. “Speaking of lovers. We’ll continue this conversation later,” she said firmly, and then: “Siranos, welcome. Do join us, won’t you?”
Kadou’s muscles locked in place.
Zeliha, perhaps sensing a little of the tension between him and Siranos (which had increased exponentially the moment Siranos spotted Eyne cuddled in Kadou’s arms), shoved them out of the pavilion toward their horses as soon as the mistress of the hunt sounded her horn, and said, “Now, look after each other and come back soon.”
That rather spoiled Kadou’s plans to stay quietly at the back of the hunt and enjoy the scenery and relative solitude. Instead, he’d be obliged to ride beside Siranos, his guards and Kadou’s own kahyalar arrayed around them—including, gods help him, Tadek, who gave Kadou a respectful bow and a cheeky wink when their eyes first met, and who ambled right up to Kadou to hold Wing’s reins as he mounted.
“Highness,” he murmured. “Are you well?”
“Managing,” Kadou said back, softly.
Tadek’s bright eyes met his again. Kadou was expecting a wry smirk, a flirtatious comment, but Tadek’s glance flicked over to Siranos. “Shall I ride beside you?” Tadek asked lightly. “I have all manner of silly gossip and chatter to fill the air with.”
Ah, and there it was—a prime example of why Kadou kicked himself whenever he fell to the temptation of being exasperated with Tadek. The same things that he found so tiresome in some circumstances could be painfully useful in others.
But he couldn’t rely entirely on Tadek, and with the earlier conversation with Zeliha . . . He suppressed a wince. “Not today,” he whispered. “I ought to make an effort, at least.”
Tadek cast another sharp, assessing glance at Siranos. It made Kadou more nervous than even the most egregious flirting would have. “As you wish, Highness. Just give me a sign if you change your mind. It’s me, Gülpasa, Balaban, Yulad, and Selçuk at your back today. We asked to be assigned to you specially.”
Just wonderful. The person who he had to be most conscientious of and the four staunchest of Kadou’s “supporters,” according to Tadek. Oh, what a bad idea it had been to ask for his help with anything covert. Several times now Kadou had attempted to explain to Tadek that he’d gotten the wrong idea, he’d misunderstood what Kadou was asking of him, but time and again, Tadek’s only response was to clasp Kadou’s hands, kiss his palms, and assure him that Tadek had it all under control.
