The Edge of the Blade

by Jeffe Kennedy

  Shaking off the melancholy, I forced my thoughts into next steps. Karyn should arrive later that day. I needed to speak with her. If I could convince her to take the chance at freedom, I’d offer to help, and escape with her in her entourage the next morning. I deliberately set aside worries of where I’d go. If I could escape the Imperial Palace, I would. Then I’d think about how to get my information back. It all relied on a very big “if” at this point. I’d been so certain that any woman in her right mind would jump at an opportunity to be free, to live her own life, but some of these women seemed far from rational in their calm acceptance of their lives. How much did Inga and Helva, for example, know of what went on in the entertainment salons?

  Quite a bit, I hazarded, from hints they’d dropped. People would turn a blind eye to a great deal of suffering, so long as they never felt the pain themselves. Not a charitable thought about the sisters who’d been only kind to me. Still, plenty of very nice people allowed atrocities to occur by pretending they didn’t know, or that they couldn’t do anything. It’s not me doing these things, they tell themselves. I am kind and generous.

  Sometimes it took the people like me, the ones who aren’t so nice, to take a harsh stance and destroy the pretty salons where the powerless suffered.

  Which I couldn’t do if I left. Thinking of it that way, whichever Karyn chose, my own options would narrow to a single course. For the moment, I needed to focus on the day ahead, the next hours. No matter how events shaped up, this could be my last opportunity to dig up information on the Star of Annfwn.

  A sound at the door pulled me away from the view and my thoughts. A sleepy Runa, waking up to take over so her sister could sleep, answered and took something from a male servant. She brought it to me, a box wrapped in silk and tied with bright ribbon.

  “You have an admirer, Ambassador.” She smiled shyly. “Perhaps you will find true love and a husband here yet, then stay with us forever.”

  I managed a reasonable smile in return, by dint of clamping my molars together to suppress a shudder of horror. But I had to ask. “And what of you—do you have an eye on someone to marry?”

  She blanked with shock, then slowly shook her head at my ignorance. “Daughters of concubines do not marry, Ambassador. We live to serve only.”

  “In the entertainment salons,” I finished, though she hadn’t left me an opening.

  She blanched, casting her eyes down and twining her fingers. “You have been there? I know some women go, to savor rather than to serve.”

  Like that fucking priestess. What others? “Not to participate,” I assured her, unwilling to have her afraid of me in that way. “But I observed . . . some extreme sex play.”

  She canted her head, part releasing tension in her neck, part shrugging off some thought. “It’s not so bad. If one is obedient, docile . . .”

  “Enthusiastic,” Sunniva offered in a sharper tone, emerging from the bathing chamber.

  “That,” Runa agreed. “Then we are spared the inner salons. And we need serve only a few times a year and are otherwise left alone.”

  Sex only a few times a year, and the rest a respite. It curdled my gut. Like mother, like daughter. Maybe so, but whether my idea or some legacy of my mother’s—I wanted to rescue them all. Instead I opened the box. The big knife lay nestled inside. Kral had moved quickly, a gesture that touched me more than any admirer’s gift might. I’d take its return as a good omen. That’s why my heart felt lighter. With a feeling of setting my feet on the right path, I fitted the blade into its sheath and added that to the belt I’d wear later. Let them try to take it from me again.

  “Will there be a formal breakfast this morning?” I asked.

  “Not today. The ladies are taking their meals in the seraglio, anticipating the arrival of Her Imperial Highness Karyn Konyngrr,” Runa answered. “There will be a reception and an audience with Hestar tonight, so they rest in preparation for that.”

  “Would it be possible for me to join them, when Karyn arrives?”

  “I’ll send a message. I’m sure the Imperial Princesses will all be pleased to entertain you.”

  Suppressing a shudder at that word—“entertain” would never mean the same to me again—I gratefully sank into the hot water.

  I ended up falling asleep soaking in the tub. What came of gallivanting all night, along with being up most of the night before. Oh, well—I could sleep when I was dead. Which might be sooner rather than later. Something to look forward to!

  It worked out all right, as Runa woke me after a nap of a couple of hours with the news that Karyn had already arrived, and I should finish my bath, then join the ladies at my leisure. The water was surprisingly still warm. Runa’d been adding to it, she confessed, so it wouldn’t cool. Distressing that I’d been so out of it I hadn’t awakened at that.

  I finished bathing in short order, dressed, and we left Sunniva to sleep off her own night’s vigil. We turned in the other direction from my rooms, proceeding through a final door.

  I don’t know what I expected. More of the same, I supposed. Instead we entered a place that, had I awoken within it, I’d never have imagined to be inside that ornate stone edifice I’d been memorizing.

  The seraglio did not lie in the tower as I’d mapped in my head. In retrospect, seeing the real thing, I understood that I’d entirely mistaken how very large the seraglio was. It would never house so many women in such luxury, placed on the upper floors of my towers as I’d imagined it.

  No, instead of ascending, we went down a set of stairs that wound squarely around the center of the tower. So far that I lost track of levels. The flights of stairs didn’t match the height of the floors on the other side of the internal walls, so parsing the difference wasn’t easy. Surely we descended below lake level by the end, the mass of stone and water looming over my head with oppressive weight.

  “Is there another way out of here?” I asked Runa, who looked surprised.

  “That wouldn’t be safe,” she said, by way of not exactly answering the question.

  “I don’t like this,” I muttered to myself, but she replied.

  “Nobody does at first, who wasn’t born here. But once they see how beautiful, they learn to love it.”

  And then we stepped into paradise.

  Of a sort.

  Perhaps it was the unrelenting oppressiveness of the endless gloomy stairway, but the seraglio served itself up before me like an unexpected oasis in the heart of the Aerron desert. Stone columns held up a high ceiling, tiled in shining blues and golds, so mirror bright they reflected light like the sun. More of the crystalline lamps hung from the tiles, but fashioned to be smooth, so they glowed rather than refracting the light in jagged pieces as they did above. An enormous lake filled the center of the room, also tiled in shimmering colors, so the shallow end showed aqua as Inga’s eyes and the deep a blue like darkest midnight.

  Warm as summer in Elcinea, the room allowed women to loll about in all states of undress. Some swam naked, while others relaxed on the bordering tiles. Flowering plants and trees with feathery palm fronds as in Nahanau scattered throughout, creating intimate conversation areas or larger communal spaces. Everywhere women wandered barefoot, in klúts or less, smiling and talking in soft tones. Fruit actually hung from some trees.

  “See why some choose to never leave?” Runa murmured. “This is far better than the world of men.”

  “No wonder you all have such white skin,” I replied. “Even I would turn fair left in here long enough.” I hadn’t meant it as a joke—far from it—but Runa giggled.

  “This direction to meet the Imperial Princesses,” she said, taking my hand, lacing her slim fingers with mine in a familiar way. A strange place with different manners entirely, the seraglio.

  She led me through another section, screened off from the rest, boisterous with the shouts of young voices. Children. Hundreds and hundreds of them, boys and girls, playing games, swimming, and dashing about with the reckless, careless glee t
he young of other people often showed. Among my people, children were expected to spend free time refining their skills. Any games involved thinly disguised lessons in tracking, making weapons, building strength. These children simply played, making me realize I’d missed their presence in the palace above, that silent and sterile place.

  The princesses, other wives, and several older women I hadn’t yet seen sat in an alcove at a polished table inlaid with colorful mosaics. One side of the alcove opened to the lagoon, and the other three walls were graced with paintings so vivid and lifelike that, if I didn’t know perfectly well we were under tons of rock and beneath a lake, I’d have believed we overlooked bountiful orchards and a calm, tropical sea.

  Illusion, all of it. The insidious kind that again layered loveliness over brutal reality.

  Inga rose to meet me, taking my hands in hers, Runa slipping away in her invisible fashion.

  “Beautiful, is it not? You are, of course, welcome to take rooms here, Ambassador.” She indicated with a wave of her hand the balconies and walkways that bordered the high walls, warmly lit hallways leading off to various apartments. “Though I know your important work requires you to be more convenient to court and your various meetings. It’s good of you to take time to visit us here.”

  Her words, as always, carried layers of meanings. Probably if I had nothing else to do but lie by an artificial lagoon all day, I’d think of clever ways to drop hints also. Or, who was I kidding? I’d be more likely to spend my time chipping with my dagger at the weakest spot I could locate, whether it drowned us all in freezing lake water or not.

  “Your Imperial Highness is most gracious.” I tried a smile to match hers. “I understand you have a visitor for me to meet.”

  “Indeed.” She led me to the table, and a young woman rose. Exceedingly nervous, tremendously lovely, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on her knotted fingers. Instead of the pallor of the other ladies, her skin glowed with the kiss of the sun, her blond hair a marvel of colors from deep gold to bleached white. “This is the Imperial Princess Karyn Konyngrr af Hardie,” she said, confirming my guess.

  Karyn’s eyes flicked up to mine, a gorgeous deep blue, full of sick fear. “Ambassador Jesperanda,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, then fell silent. Apparently my reputation—and plenty of gossip—had preceded my arrival.

  “Shall we eat?” Helva interjected in a cheerful tone, tugging at Karyn’s hand, urging her to sit. “This is Karyn’s first visit to the seraglio of the Imperial Palace also, Ambassador. I believe you two have much in common.”

  “More in common than Kral’s wife knows,” one of the other ladies snickered, and I, still edgy with wanting to kill something, had to restrain myself from throwing a knife at her. Just to slice off one of her pretty curls, perhaps nick her fair cheek to draw a bit of blood, as she tried to do with her cruel words to Karyn. Indulging my restlessness and not above intimidating the nasty one, I pulled one of the shirikins I’d added to my costume, to acquaint myself with their heft and weight again.

  Made of sleek, squared-off metal for most of its haft, the shirikin narrowed to a wicked point, finer than one of Runa’s sewing needles. Slimmer than my smallest finger, it moved with speed when thrown and danced gracefully as I idly spun it. All the ladies’ gazes fastened on the flicking glint of it, though Inga raised hers to mine, a wry acknowledgment in her lovely eyes.

  “How did the journey treat you, Your Imperial Highness?” I inquired. “It seems you arrived quickly.”

  “As always, Dasnaria’s roads were impeccable. And I, of course, hastened to answer my husband’s summons with all alacrity. It would not do to disappoint His Imperial Highness Prince Kral.” She met my eyes then, something of defiance in them, not quite in accordance with her subservient word choice. “Whatever he requires of me, I will be happy to offer him. His happiness is mine.”

  Yeah, mine, too, but not in the same way. Ha! “Perhaps after we eat, you and I can walk about the seraglio together, to explore its many charms.” Danu, I began to sound like these women. I couldn’t get out of here fast enough. How difficult could swimming through icy lake water be?

  Inga and Helva took over the conversation, asking Karyn for gossip from the outside world, which she knew distressingly little of, beyond her own lands, and offering their own, which mainly involved other wives and children. I listened for any clues relevant to my own interests and watched for a woman who looked like the priestess. If I didn’t spot her, I’d have to take Inga or Helva aside to ask them directly.

  It could be that all spies reached a stage where pointed questions yielded greater return than subtle scouting. Perhaps that’s what my mother had finally done. Not a promising path, in that case.

  Though Karyn dawdled over her meal, finally she could delay no longer. At Inga’s encouraging nod, she rose and walked with me to a path strewn with flower petals that seemed to circumnavigate the vast hall.

  “I know you are my husband’s concubine,” she said, admirably—and surprisingly—leading with the attack as soon as we walked out of earshot. “He may not have signed the contracts, but the ladies assure me it’s true.”

  I’d already weighed out how honest to be with her. Obviously Kral’s ideas of secrecy didn’t factor in the way speculation traveled like static bursts from woman to woman in the seraglio. For a sequestered group, they sure knew a whole lot about relationships in the palace. Came of having invisible female servants everywhere, not much else to think about—and a huge stake in the outcomes.

  “He’s been my lover, yes,” I told her, and went straight for my core message, which I’d emphasize as often as necessary to get her to believe. “Where I come from, women are not concubines. We take lovers as we wish, to keep or release. I want you to know I never intended any insult to you or your marriage bonds. When I first took Kral to my bed”—that phrasing made me absurdly happy—“I had no idea he was married.”

  “If you had known, would you have refused him?” She posed it as a question, but the challenge in her voice made it clear she thought otherwise.

  “I don’t know.” I really didn’t. “I like sex and Kral’s a handsome man. I thought it would be a onetime deal. It didn’t occur to me to think about his life beyond that one night. I didn’t expect to become embroiled in it. But causing you pain was never something I wanted, then or now. If you ask me to never touch him again, I won’t.”

  She cast me a surprised sideways glance. “Then you do not seek to become his wife?”

  Always with this. “No. I don’t want to be anyone’s wife, least of all His Imperial Highness’s.”

  Stopping midstep, she surveyed me with astonishment. “Why bed him if not for that?”

  I wanted to roll my eyes at her. Virgin, I reminded myself firmly. Lately I seemed to be surrounded with these women who’d never shared a campfire with anyone. “For sex, Karyn. It’s fun, great exercise, infinitely interesting. A great way to feel good and make someone else feel good at the same time.” And that sense of connection, that feeling that hummed still deep inside, as if Kral had left something of himself behind.

  “I wouldn’t know,” she replied, understandably bitter, and resumed walking. “But the stories I have heard don’t mesh with that.”

  “People like to tell bad stories. When we have time, I’ll tell you a few juicy ones.”

  “We have time now, don’t we?”

  I followed her gaze to the group of children playing some game as an older woman perched on a bench kept watch with an affectionate smile. Looking on this scene, it seemed as if time didn’t move. As if the sands weren’t slipping away until evening, when Kral would pose his question to Karyn.

  “We don’t. I don’t, that is, and I’m afraid I’ve drawn you into this.” The immense selfishness of my actions hit me then. I had no idea if Karyn liked her life. The women here sure seemed to. Who was I to impose my values on her? Maybe the freedom I cherished would feel as terrifying to her as being imprisoned in this p
lace would be to me.

  “Let’s sit.” She picked out a small, pillowed sofa under a tree whose branches wept with pink blossoms. How did they encourage the plants to bloom like this? “Tell me,” she commanded, all regal princess, despite that she must be at least five years younger than I. “I detest dithering.”

  I bit back the retort that I never dithered. At least, not with knives. Difficult conversations apparently posed an entirely different challenge. “Tonight Kral will offer you a divorce if you wish it. He’ll release you to do whatever you want to with your life. You can go anywhere you like, marry again or not, have sex, have children. It will be your choice. The freedom to decide.”

  She sat, stupefied, then burst into tears. And not ones of joy.

  22

  It sucked up a lot of precious time, calming her down again. Especially as no one came to my aid, though plenty watched us sidelong and fell into murmuring conversations. I could only guess at what they speculated: what the evil witch of a man-stealing foreign concubine had done to the innocent and lovely Imperial Princess. Helva lurked nearby, eavesdropping, no doubt thinking I hadn’t seen her.

  Danu save me from female Dasnarians, too.

  Another area of skill I sadly lacked, comforting a weeping woman. I’d never been the hold-her-hand-while-she-cried kind of friend—I was more there for the phase of “let me help dispose of the body.”

  Unfortunately, in this case, the culprit to be killed was me.

  “And you say you don’t want him for your own,” she finally accused through watery sobs. “You aspire to displace me entirely! You don’t want to be concubine or second wife; you want to be an Imperial Princess.” Her tears made the last almost unintelligible, but I got the gist.

  “Oh, stop it,” I snapped, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her a little. If only I could shake actual sense into her. “I swear by Danu’s clear eyes and bright blade, I do not now, nor will I ever, want to be an Imperial Princess of Dasnaria. Quite frankly, I’m utterly bewildered why you want the job.”