Atiana had always been good at trump, and one of the things she’d learned was not to play her high cards early. Not unless you knew you could run the trick. And she certainly couldn’t do that, so for now she would protect what cards she did have.
“Ancients preserve me, I did not,” she said to him.
Bahett’s face relaxed. He lifted her hands and kissed them. It was a warm and tender gesture. “I’m so relieved, Atiana. I don’t know what I would have done had they found you.”
“Who were they?”
Bahett’s eyes went faraway. “I wish I knew, but trust me when I say that no effort will be spared.”
“And what of the servant, the eunuch?”
He focused on her once more. “An impostor. We found the one who should have been sent in his bed, his throat cut.” He leaned forward until he was sitting at the edge of his chair, and then he reached out and took her left hand in his. It was not Nikandr’s hand, but it was nice all the same. “Atiana, I will be blunt. It may be best that we abandon our plan. I would not put you in deeper danger, and the chances that Arvaneh will discover our plans are now too great. Clearly she suspects something, enough that she is willing to have you killed before you can learn more about her.”
Atiana had been ready for him to say something completely different. She thought he would urge her to continue her efforts, no matter what the danger might be, but this was a side of Bahett she hadn’t counted on. He had been so adamant in Vostroma, and now, here he was, asking her to back down.
“I have a duty to my family, Bahett, to the Grand Duchy as well.”
“It may be that the Kamarisi will see reason. He may, perhaps, still be led out from under the shadow of Arvaneh’s influence. I still haven’t had the chance to speak to him at length, but when I do-”
“You said Arvaneh is the one pulling the strings. You said the Kamarisi is powerless. There’s something strange happening, and I would learn its nature, danger or not.” He looked as though he was about to speak again, but she talked over him. “My father arrives in less than a week. In order to protect him, to protect all our interests here, I will take the dark, as soon as can be arranged.”
He smiled, the candlelight making him even more handsome than he was in the daylight. “My brave princess.”
She felt herself blush as she pulled her hand away. “Go,” she said, more strongly than she’d meant.
The following morning, Atiana went early to a terrace overlooking an expansive garden. Bahett was hosting a social for the Kamarisi and his retinue to meet the first of the dignitaries from the Grand Duchy who’d come. Atiana would be among the guests, of course, but so would Vaasak Dhalingrad, the younger brother of Duke Leonid and the man Father had chosen to act as his negotiator in the week before his arrival.
For Atiana’s part, she was to meet Bahett’s wives, or at least most of them. Some would be gone, tending to Bahett’s estates around the island of Galahesh. But the most important, including Bahett’s current ilkadin, would be in attendance.
Atiana met them, seventeen in all. They were all pretty, though in markedly different ways. Some were tall with bright eyes. Others had lustrous dark hair and strong cheekbones. Others still had full lips and fuller hips. Atiana felt strange upon exchanging pleasantries with them. They were real women, all of them. She had expected them to have nary a thought in their pretty little heads, but they were refined. They were well spoken. They knew much of the political landscape, if their subtle yet polite hints about her reasons for wedding Bahett were any indicator.
The last to come was Meryam, Bahett’s ilkadin. When it was her turn to speak with Atiana, she clapped her hands. The other women, who had up until this point been sitting at intimate tables with mosaic inlays, stood and with their plates and cups in hand left the terrace.
In moments, Atiana was alone with Meryam at a single table, each of them sipping the strong coffee with the grounds still at the bottom of the cup. Meryam was a mature woman-she would be forty in three days, she told Atiana-and she was beautiful, a woman in her prime, a woman who commanded attention. Many of Bahett’s wives wore bright dresses and jewelry at their wrists and ankles and throats. Meryam wore a ring in her nose, more in her eyebrows, more still in her ears. Her eyes were rimmed with kohl, and her dress was the color of her eyes, a brown so rich and bright it made Atiana think of beaten copper. The skin along the backs of her hands and wrists were marked with beautiful tattoos in the shapes of stars and whorls and bold, angular shapes that highlighted the landscape of her hands.
Meryam asked Atiana of Vostroma, of life among the islands. In return she spoke of Yrstanla and Aleke s ir, her capital. They spoke of life on Galahesh, what the food was like, where the best cheese could be found. They spoke almost nothing of the thing that stood squarely between them: the fact that Atiana, once she was married to Bahett, would take the title that Meryam now claimed as her own.
The time was growing near when the social would begin, and still Meryam choose to speak of nothing but pleasantries.
Soon the other wives returned to the terrace-this time bearing trays with glasses and plates and silverware and food. Meryam stood and nodded toward them. “Ebru will be best to teach you.”
Atiana stood. She felt dismissed and confused, both. She recalled Ebru as the short woman with the saucy tongue. “Forgive me, ilkadin, but wouldn’t it be better if you taught me?”
“It might,” she said, smiling, “but in two weeks I’ll be gone.”
“I don’t understand.”
“To my home, far to the southwest.”
Atiana shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“You will, in time. I’ve lived here in Baressa for twenty-five years. Not once in that time have I returned to my home. I was ilkadin. There was always more to do, and I’ve sired Bahett three sons and two daughters. I’ve earned the right to leave this place and run one of his households there.”
“I thought we’d have time with one another, so I could learn more.”
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” And now a bit of the reception Atiana had expected revealed itself. Meryam stared at her coldly, as if she wished she could watch Atiana flail, watch as Atiana floundered in the myriad of tasks that lay before her. “Now forgive me, there is much to attend to.” Meryam bowed her head, clasping her hands near her forehead as she did so. “Enjoy your time with the Kamarisi.”
For a moment, Atiana could only stare. Meryam returned to the wives, ordering them around the terrace, making everything just so. She wanted to speak more with her, or perhaps Ebru, but in the end decided that Meryam had the right of it. The Kamarisi, and surely Arvaneh, would both be in attendance today. She needed to clear her mind before she met them.
The lords and ladies of Galahesh began to arrive in ones and twos. Atiana moved among them, greeting them, learning their names and where they were from. The talk was idle, and she soon found herself taking in more of the city, which was in full display. As high as the Mount was above the city, the terrace smelled of little more than fresh air and the late-blooming bluemists in the garden below. The western end of the city occupied the largest expanse of the horizon, but the northern run of the straits could also be seen, yet Atiana often found her gaze drawn northward, where the cemetery lay.
“My dear Atiana,” Vaasak Dhalingrad asked near the noon hour, “what keeps drawing your attention so? And what turns your mood so sour? Did you have too much to drink last night? Or have you taken ill like your sister?”
“I have not taken ill,” she replied, wondering when she would see Bahett again. “I only worry over what will come of these talks.”
He smiled and patted her wrist. “All will be well. Do not worry.”
She slapped his hand away. “There are troubled winds ahead, Dhalingrad. Best you remember it. Siha s surely does, and the Kamarisi as well.”