The King's Harem

by Derr, Megan

  Freeing one hand from Shah's waist, Witcher used it to pull Shah's head down and took a kiss. Letting Shah control it, more than willing to be led, he didn't break it until the need to breathe was impossible to ignore. When he looked back down the hallway, it was empty.

  "Perhaps we should retire?" Shah asked, amused but pleased.

  "As my king wishes," Witcher replied, letting him go. They continued on toward their rooms, hands clasped.

  Rakiah

  "Sir, your mother is requesting you slow down and stop trying to leave your family behind."

  "And here I thought I was succeeding, not merely trying," Rakiah said with a smile, sharing a laugh with the tolerant guard. He glanced back toward the blue and gold palanquin in which his mother traveled, his father and brother on horseback on either side of her. She had them, why was his presence required as well?

  Didn't they know he was nervous enough without having to converse about the weather and how grandmother was being such a wretched beast again? Honestly, if he wasn't so anxious he'd wish to be at the palace right now.

  Unfortunately, even wishing such was the case wouldn't change the fact that he still had one more day to fret over it.

  One more day.

  Would the king still remember him? Probably not. King Shahjahan had plenty to think about; he wouldn't remember one silly, noisy kid.

  Oh, why couldn't it be over already? Rakiah held his horse up and waited for the palanquin and company to catch up. The wind whipped at his hair; he just barely snatched back the ribbon it tried to take away and rebound the waist-length mess with a vengeance.

  He should have just braided it, but that would be doing what his mother wanted. Rakiah shook his head at himself and pulled up the head covering he'd discarded earlier. He hated them, but the sun and wind were bad enough, even away from the sands, that he had to concede defeat. His biggest complaint was how it limited his view.

  Now all he could see without turning his head was the castle, only a day or so away.

  Why did his parents have to drag it out? He knew they were, and he could see his brother laughing from here, the wretch. If he made one more joke, Rakiah was going to send him off his horse in the most humiliating way possible.

  "Feeling restless, little brother?"

  "Do you want me," Rakiah asked pleasantly, "to remind you why I'm the better horseman?"

  "Now, children," their father said soothingly, though he was obviously trying not to laugh. "We can't present hooligans to the king, so comport yourselves."

  "Yes, father." Rakiah pointedly rode a bit ahead of them, choosing not to hear his mother's command to stay beside his father. He was already going insane; did they want to break him before he got to see the king again?

  And were they going to embarrass him? Oh, he could just see his brother doing that.

  Suddenly Rakiah wished they were still days and days away, so he had time to find a place to lose his brother. And his parents.

  *~*~*

  "Now remember what I told you, Kiah. Behave."

  "Yes, ma'am," Kiah repeated dutifully, tugging at his stupid hair—why'd Mom have to braid it like a girl's hair—and began to think about what he'd do once brother was finished being … whatever it was. He'd go back to that cool fountain, and talk to the guards.

  "Kiah!"

  "Yes, ma'am!" Kiah said, jumping. "I'll behave."

  "Somehow I doubt it," his mother said, but she was making that funny face that meant she'd start laughing when he couldn't hear. "But I told you to go stand with Daddy. Remember: no talking, no fidgeting. We want all the grown-ups to think you're a good boy."

  Kiah nodded and wished he was already playing in the big, pretty fountain he'd seen before. Like the one in the square back home that Dad was always complaining was too much.

  Dad was always going on about something, which made no sense since he usually seemed pretty happy at the same time. Mom just nodded and said 'yes, dear.'

  God, this was all his brother's fault. He was going to push him in the fountain for the braided hair and the stupid clothes and now he had to stand in front of a bunch of grown-ups and listen to them go on and on and on just like at the stupid meetings Dad was always having and then had to come in and say hello and—

  "Kiah!"

  "Yes, ma'am!" Uh-oh, that wasn't a 'I'm going to laugh later' look. That was a 'you're about to get it' look. Kiah hurried along, catching up to and walking beside his father, who settled a hand on his ever-wandering son. He hated his stupid robes, all long and hot and stuffy, and he was going to trip he bet, right in front of everyone.

  Why did he have to go? "Dad, why do I—"

  "Shh, Kiah. Not right now."

  Kiah gave a long, loud sigh but subsided. There was no making them listen when there was Big Important Stuff to do. Like Brother being all weird. Why couldn't they just leave him with Night Dancer?

  Brother was so going in the fountain, even if did earn him a sore rear afterwards.

  The hand on his shoulder tightened in warning as they entered a long room, packed with all sorts of people—fancy people, plain people, scary people. Immediately bored, because he couldn't go ask all the people questions, Kiah looked around for something more interesting to look at.

  His eyes flitted toward the front, even as he bowed and spoke as he'd been instructed to—tortured really.

  Oh wow. His hair wasn't as pretty as that. So long. It went on forever.

  It was even prettier than Night Dancer's mane after Dad helped him brush it over and over again.

  Kiah felt someone pinch him and realized he was supposed to be bowing. Hastily he did so, but not before he saw the man next to the pretty one with long hair looking at him. He had the same funny face Mom did when she was trying not to laugh after he 'wreaked havoc everywhere.' And he looked like one of the heroes from the books Mom used to read so he'd get bored and fall asleep.

  Except he was in the stupid court instead of on a horse fighting sand monsters. Kiah thought the sand monsters would be cooler than listening to Brother be all weird and have to bow up and down and up and down.

  "Ow," he accidentally said when Mom pinched him again.

  It got him another pinch, and Kiah tried to stop thinking about heroes on horses and the man with the long, pretty hair. Up, down, Brother and Dad talk, then up and down again.

  Then they were finally going back out, away from the stupid court—even though he was a little sad he wouldn't get to see the hero and pretty-hair man again.

  As soon as he got out of the stupid clothes, he was so pushing Brother in the fountain.

  *~*~*

  "Forget how to walk, Kiah?"

  Kiah looked at the knowing grin on his brother's face and wiped it out with a swift kick to the shins. "No," he said, not really liking the shake in his voice. He really wished this part was already over.

  He smoothed the front of his dark red robes and resisted the urge to fiddle with the ribbon holding his hair back. At least it wasn't braided. Honestly, why couldn't she just be happy braiding her own hair?

  Realizing he was scowling, Kiah smoothed the expression from his face and took a deep breath. There was no reason to be this nervous; none at all.

  "You're forgetting how to walk again," his brother said with a laugh. "Honestly, you're worse than a woman on her wedding day."

  "Do you want to get dunked in the fountain again?" Kiah asked icily. "Because I remember exactly where it is and I've only gotten better while you're getting fatter."

  "Oh, shut up," his brother said with a chuckle.

  Kiah kicked him again, then turned away as his parents finally joined them in hallway.

  "Ready, Kiah?" His mother asked.

  "Yes," Kiah managed.

  Gods, he just wanted it over with, whatever humiliation he had coming. There was no way the king remembered him. Or Nandakumar. It was stupid. He wouldn't need Kiah for anything, not by now. There must be hundreds better than him, with far more everything than some
one who spent his time raising horses far from any city.

  He wasn't sure what was worse, that the king might have forgotten him, or that he remembered but wouldn't be able—or want—to keep his promise to give Kiah a place in the palace.

  It was a good thing he hadn't eaten anything. Kiah didn't think a full stomach would be a good thing to have right now.

  He knew the ceremony by heart as he filed alongside his family into the courtroom. Refusing to let his eyes wander toward the throne until he had no choice as they knelt to kowtow in greeting, starting the ceremony of formally presenting him to the court and acknowledging he was old enough to be a real part of the adult world.

  Kiah finally allowed himself to look up.

  The King Shahjahan in his memory had been a hero to worship, someone for whom he would someday do noble deeds astride the greatest horse to ever live. But the Shahjahan before him now was not a hero to worship. The king was definitely every rumor Kiah had ever heard: handsome and male and not good for his peace of mind at all.

  And there was Nandakumar, smile faint but there, hair still so long and pretty. But the starry eyes of a child had been replaced by a young man who wanted to touch it for different reasons entirely.

  Oh, he didn't need this. Not what he'd been expecting at all. Kiah focused on what was being said and not the turmoil in his own head.

  "Rakiah," Shahjahan said warmly, jarring him. "I saw your name on the list of presentations and was glad. I had thought it was about time we saw you again. "

  Kiah struggled to remember how to speak, and finally found his tongue when his mother pinched him—hard. "Majesty," he bowed low. "I am honored you recall me."

  "Did I not promise I would, Rakiah? You have grown up well."

  "Thank you, Majesty. I am honored you think so." He dared another look up, but couldn't bear to do it for long. It just … hurt. Had he felt this way the whole time? That was silly. He'd only been a child. Children didn't fall into such things.

  "I'm rather undecided as to what to do you with, Rakiah." The voice drew his head up, despite Kiah's efforts to keep it down. "Regretfully, you've arrived on a busy morning, but I welcome you warmly to court, and to your full life. Go for now, and enjoy the entirety of my palace. We will talk again later."

  "Yes, Majesty. Thank you." Kiah fled as quickly as decorum would allow him.

  "Well," his mother said with one of her frowns. "That wasn't quite what I had expected."

  "Rather quiet after all the waiting," his father agreed. "Well, Kiah?"

  Kiah looked up at the sound of his name and stared blankly at his expectant family, then said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm going for a ride." He ran to his room to change, expecting someone to shout after him, if not stop him, but no one did.

  *~*~*

  "Look at the horses! Dad, can I do that?" Kiah scrambled up the railing to better see the men and horses practice.

  He and Night Dancer could do it easy. It would be just like the one at home, only bigger and better. "Come on, Dad. Can I? I'll go get Night Dancer!" He jumped down and turned to run for the stables.

  His dad grabbed the collar of his roes. "Kiah."

  Oh, not that tone.

  "I said I would show you the royal horses. This isn't a place for you to play. Now watch like a good boy or we'll go back to our rooms."

  "Yes, sir." Kiah gave a long sigh and climbed back up. Watching the men and horses avidly, memorizing everything they did, he was determined to imitate them all the minute he got Night Dancer back. "Dad, please. You know I can do it! Please!"

  His father laughed. "I would if I could, Kiah. But that's not mine, and I don't have permission to let you try it. Besides," he winked, "your mother would kill me."

  "Darn Mom," Kiah grumbled, and draped himself over the gate. "Not fair."

  Laughter broke into his moping, and Kiah turned around to see who was laughing at him. His eyes went wide. Oh. Oh. Oh. It was the hero from earlier! And he had the pretty-hair man with him. Kiah scrambled off the fence and moved to stand near his dad, stealing looks but trying not to stare—Mom always yelled at him for that.

  "Do you like horses?" The hero asked.

  Kiah nodded his head furiously.

  "Tell me about yours."

  Kiah looked up, surprised, then looked at his dad.

  "Go ahead, Kiah."

  He didn't need any further prodding and launched into telling the hero all about his horse—just the right size for him, black as night, faster than even some of the big horses, Dad said he's good stock. "And I can do our obstacle course perfectly every single time. Even the high jumps that Red Sky won't try."

  The hero laughed. "What is your name?"

  Kiah looked to his dad again, nervous, because usually people only asked his name right before they started yelling at him. But his dad nodded and smiled, so Kiah told him. "Rakiah."

  "Rakiah," the hero said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

  "Nice to meet you," Kiah said, remembering what Mom had taught him.

  "My name is Shahjahan." He put his hand on the arm of the pretty-hair man. "This is Nandakumar."

  "Nandakumar," Kiah repeated. "Shahjahan."

  The hero laughed. "Yes."

  "Majesty," his father said sharply. "Call him 'Your Majesty'"

  Oh, that tone was Trouble. Kiah nodded his head, bobbing it up and down rapidly. "Yes, sir. Your Majesty."

  Shahjahan laughed again. "Would you like to try the course?"

  "Oh! Could I?" Kiah looked at him in disbelief.

  "If your father says you may."

  His dad laughed. "Like I could say no now. If the king says you may, then of course you can, Kiah." He bowed. "Thank you, Majesty." He gave Kiah a Look. "Now bow, and then go get your horse. Make sure you mind your manners."

  "Yes, sir!" Kiah bowed hastily then dashed off.

  *~*~*

  Kiah took full advantage of the permission granted to use the entirety of the castle, but even had he been confined to his rooms, he would have snuck off to run the training course. Summer Storm took to it exactly as he had known he would; Kiah felt a pang for the horse he'd first ridden this track on—Night Dancer had died two years ago, adoring and hardworking til the end.

  But Summer Storm did it more splendidly than even his faithful first horse. He was light and quick, making the jumps with fluid grace, and Kiah knew his horse was the equal of any in the palace.

  "Come on, Summer," he urged quietly but eagerly as they reached the only jump that Night Dancer had not been able to take. Summer Storm seemed barely to notice the challenge, as eager as he—and took the jump easily. Kiah laughed in delight and pulled on the reins, causing Summer Storm to rear up, making him laugh all the more before he let him cool down by circling the ring.

  It was only as he passed it, lying on the hard-packed dirt, that he realized the ribbon had come out of his hair. How he hadn't noticed, Kiah didn't know—but then he seldom noticed anything when he was riding.

  Nor did he notice the men until he reached them, attention exclusively for his horse.

  Three of them, all bare-chested, the unmistakable sign of the king's harem.

  He really was an idiot, being knotted up over a king who had men like that at his fingertips. According to the law, now that he was twenty one and formally presented to the court, Kiah was a full adult—but he suddenly felt still very much a kid.

  Hiding with his horse when the real world was more than he could take.

  "You ride horses like Nanda plays music," said the first man. His grin was the sort his mother liked to call troublesome—his dad always said that meant she really liked it, and that it was only trouble because she let them get away with stuff. His hair was short, and he had a more relaxed manner about him than the other two.

  The second had shoulder length hair and skin not quite as dark as the first man's. He was … still, even as he too smiled at Kiah. "A fine horse. I think it puts some of the royal stock to shame. What's his name?"
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  Kiah realized belatedly, horrified, that he was still mounted. He scrambled off his horse and ducked his head in a belated bow. "His name is Summer Storm."

  "You don't have to bow to these clowns," the third man said, laughing at their replies. He was exotic, nothing like the few foreigners Kiah had seen before. His skin was almost white, and his hair was like pale gold. Eyes the color of the sky.

  Kiah looked away when he realized he was staring.