The Harem Master

by Megan Derr

  He stood out of the way, but close enough to attend quickly should Ihsan require him for something. Ihsan dismissed the servants and, once they were gone, began to undress. His harem stepped forward to assist him. Once he was naked, they helped undress each other, leaving clothes and armor and weapons in an untidy heap.

  They helped each other scrub and wash then slid into the bathing pool, more than large enough to accommodate them, groaning and murmuring as they settled into the hot water. Demir kept his eyes turned away, thoughts on his concubines and the likelihood Kagan would take his ire out on them.

  "Is it rude to compliment your tattoos? Uh, Harem Master. What is the proper form of address?"

  Demir looked back at the bathing pool, gaze falling to the foreigner. Before he could reply, however, Prince Ihsan said, "Lord Demir or Harem Master. It's not rude to compliment, no."

  The man smiled. "Your tattoos are beautiful, Lord Demir."

  Demir ventured closer when Ihsan gestured with a hand that he should. "Thank you."

  The man smiled up at him, wet and pale and lovely. If he could learn restraint and decorum he would make an excellent concubine. "How long did they take?"

  "Three months apiece for the arms. The rest took a year and a half total."

  "Rest?" The man's eyes dipped, lingered on his stomach then dragged slowly down the rest of him, narrowed in thought.

  Ihsan chuckled and cast Demir an apologetic look. "Enough, Kitt. You are tipping into rudeness. My apologies, Lord Demir."

  "No apologies necessary, Your Highness. It is good to have you home again, if I may say." Now perhaps somebody would remove Kagan and they could move forward with a better ruler. He hoped Ihsan was better, anyway.

  Unfortunately, he had never interacted much with Prince Ihsan. They were twelve years apart in age, and always busy with their respective training. Kagan had assumed the throne at forty-four, and Demir had become harem master three years later, shortly after he'd turned twenty-six. Ihsan had been fourteen at the time, and already an angry, volatile young man eager to start a fight—especially with his father. Demir should have begun Ihsan's harem-related training when Ihsan turned fifteen, but that was the year the queen had died. After her death, everything had just gotten worse. Three years after that, Altan was exiled for treason, and three years after that Ihsan had runaway to war. Two years later, Demir had smuggled out the 'executed' Princess Zehra.

  There was no way to know, except with time, what sort of man had returned from war in place of the boy who had escaped to it.

  "It is good to be home, thank you," Ihsan replied, staring at him for a long moment that left Demir breathless and baffled.

  What sort of man had returned? Someone fierce and compelling, rough-edged but comfortable with himself. Though it looked like he'd not had an easy time of it, to judge by the extensive scars on his face, chest, and left arm. He was nothing like the restless, angry, aimless boy Demir remembered. Some of the most beautiful men in the kingdom lived in the harem halls, but Demir had never found them as captivating as he suddenly did the man before him.

  Ihsan was twelve years his junior, his future king, and surrounded by three stunning men of his own age so devoted they had returned home to face the king's wrath at his side, open and unashamed. There was more beauty in that loyalty than in the physical attributes of every concubine combined.

  It left Demir aching, both because it had happened far outside his reach and left him feeling he had failed in his duties… and for reasons he preferred not to admit. He was Harem Master, whatever else he might want was impossible.

  "Lord Demir, your trunks," the servant called from behind him.

  Demir turned, accepting the key as the servant bowed and then handed it to him. "Thank you." When he and the guards had departed, Demir went to the trunks and unlocked them. Two were filled with all manner and size of clothing suitable for a concubine. Some of the items within were bound to suit Prince Ihsan's men until clothes could be made for them. The last trunk was filled with jewels, other accessories, make-up, and a few books on the laws and practices regarding the harem.

  Returning the key to his chain, he turned and faced Ihsan, bowed briefly before saying, "Prince Ihsan, this should be all you need for your harem until fitted garments and other items can be made per your specifications."

  "Thank you," Ihsan said, drawing away from Sabah, who had been curled up against him. He hoisted himself out of the bath, pulled on the dark blue robe that Kitt held out to him, and approached the trunks, his men on his heels. "Let's see what we've got."

  Demir moved out of the way as they picked and pawed through the trunks. He ducked his head to hide a smile when Kitt lifted up a diaphanous length of fabric. "How does one wear this, exactly?"

  "It's meant to wrap around the hips. There is a pair of pants in there that goes under it."

  Kitt shook his head, grinned, and went back to looking.

  "I like what Lord Demir wears," Haluk said. "I always have." He smiled, and Demir smiled faintly back. He faintly recalled Haluk now. He was five or so years older than Ihsan, and if Demir remembered correctly, had been assigned as his bodyguard when Ihsan was fifteen. Loyalty, indeed. Beautiful. To say nothing of his appearance, captivating in its own right.

  Sabah and Kitt both turned from their hunting to regard Demir. "Yes," Sabah said. "The Harem Masters have always dressed beautifully, subtle but no less seductive and powerful for it." He gave Demir a brief sweep, approving without being lewd, as was Bulut's habit. "I agree, we should emulate the esteemed Harem Master. Certainly we will stand out from your father's harem, as you wanted."

  "Thirded." Kitt dropped the silk scrap he'd held up to his face to stare through. "Are we allowed?"

  "There's no law against it," Demir replied, "though I cannot recall it ever being done. My clothes are plain, so as not to distract from the jewels. I am only the caretaker."

  Kitt's brows rose. "If you're 'just' the caretaker, what do the jewels look like?"

  "Enough," Ihsan said firmly, though a faint smile tugged at his mouth. "Kitt, I think there are books in here about manners. Read them."

  Making a face, Kitt nevertheless fetched the books. "I hope someone will help me. My reading comprehension still needs a great deal of work."

  "You know I will," Sabah said with a fond smile that widened when Kitt leaned up and pressed a quick kiss on his mouth.

  Demir turned away, bowed slightly to Ihsan. "If my plain wardrobe is what Your Highness desires then I will see it done. I can fetch extra sets from my room and tomorrow I will see your men are measured and their own sets made."

  "That will do, thank you, Lord Demir."

  "My honor to serve, Your Highness." He dipped into a deeper bow, then departed, mind spinning as he returned to the harem hall.

  Two

  "Holy Dragon, do you get that as a present when you become king?" Kitt demanded. His face soured. "Please tell me that your stupid father does not have that now."

  Ihsan managed a laugh, setting down the necklace he had pulled out to admire. Nearby, Sabah and Haluk laughed with him. "No, my father does not 'have that' now, nor do I 'get it' when I become king. You have such peculiar turns of phrase, Kitt. No one in the royal family 'gets that.' The Harem Master oversees the harems, but he is never part of one. That would be a gross breach of conduct, and an abuse of power in several ways."

  He went back to staring at the jewels, but their sparkle was no longer enough to distract him. Dead. Zehra was dead. How could his little sister… he closed his eyes, pressed the heels of his hands to them, tried to breathe.

  Sabah's arms wrapped around him, a soft kiss pressed to his throat. "I'm sorry, Ihsan."

  "I should have taken her with me, let her stay with Euren."

  "Your father would have definitely hunted you all down and imprisoned you, then," Haluk said quietly. "It is not your fault, Ihsan. Do not let that thought encroach."

  Ihsan nodded, hugged Sabah tight, then forced thoughts
of Zehra to the back of his mind. Focus on the present, on all the problems he needed to fix. He would mourn Zehra when he had taken care of his father and Tavamara no longer had to fear their king. "At least Captain Fatih is still here." They had done their best, he and Euren, to make it clear when they left that her father had played no part in their misbehavior. Had managed to confirm, after a few months, that he was fine, but Ihsan had never rested easy. He would have never forgiven himself if his actions had cost Euren's father his life.

  "Speaking of Captain Fatih… I am surprised he is not here," Haluk said.

  Sabah gave a soft snort. "His Majesty will be detaining him, and my father, for as long as possible. He was not happy to see Ihsan return, why should he let anyone else be happy to see us?" He made a face. "Though I am not convinced my father will not simply strangle me when he comes to see me."

  "Your father is nothing like mine," Ihsan replied. "He'll be happy, whatever else he feels."

  The conversation was cut off by knock came at the door; Ihsan called for them to enter. Demir stepped inside, and Ihsan felt punched in the stomach all over again. Had Demir always been so beautiful? Ihsan must have seen him countless times growing up, but he only had vague memories of a quiet, intimidating figure. Not a man built like a soldier but beautiful enough to shame the whole of the harem. Ihsan wanted to run his hands over all that lovely skin, see what happened to those smoky eyes when they filled with lust, draw Demir into bed and watch the others take him apart.

  If his father had not abused his authority to help himself to his Harem Master, Ihsan would be surprised. He hoped he would be surprised. The thought of such an abuse of power… his hands balled into fists. He might have left to prove to his father he was a worthy son, but he had returned to prove his father was the unworthy one. Ihsan was going to remove him from the throne once and for all. One way or another. "Thank you for your assistance, Lord Demir."

  "Always an honor to serve," Demir replied, dipping into an elegant bow and displaying a back as fine as the rest of him. The tattoos, now those Ihsan recalled—the ones on Demir's arms, anyway. That circle of flowers on his stomach that vanished beneath the hem of his pants…

  That he would like to know more about, but he refused to be his father. Bad enough he'd already been caught staring more than once.

  Demir handed out the clothes, patiently helping Kitt learn how to tie the skirt properly so the slits up the sides fell as they should. "Have you chosen what jewelry, if any, you prefer?"

  "Nope," Kitt replied. "These look fun." He flicked one of Demir's nipple rings.

  "Kitt!" Sabah said sharply.

  Ihsan strode over to them, grabbed Kitt's arm, and tugged him away. "You are causing offense."

  "I'm sorry," Kitt said immediately, meeting Demir's eyes. "I don't think I'll ever get used to how much more… contained Tavamarans can be."

  Demir laughed, so open and bright with it, Ihsan caught himself staring again. Catching him, Demir immediately sobered. "Apologies, Your Majesty. It is only that all the foreign dignitaries who come here complain that we are too open, too lewd. Many are frustrated or confused by our bisexuality, and nearly all of them are offended by our harem practices. You must know all this, but it's become more of a problem lately." He glanced at Kitt again, a ghost of his laughter in the smile that briefly curved his lips. "Then your concubine says we are too tame. I know a little about Rittu, but not much."

  "We are very, very open compared to other cultures," Kitt replied. "I got in a lot of trouble abroad before I understood the concept of monogamy. I still don't understand most countries I've visited." He wrinkled his nose. "Tavamara is the first that does not feel as though it is made entirely of idiots."

  "Not entirely," Demir said with another tiny smile. It slid into a pensive look as he shifted his gaze to the trunk of jewels. Going to it, he knelt and rifled through the contents briefly. When he rose, he held a large, flat black velvet box. "I think this will suit you, if it pleases His Highness."

  Ihsan's mouth quirked. "It if pleases them, it pleases me." Demir bowed his head to acknowledge the words. Ihsan had to curl his fingers into the folds of his robe to avoid reaching out to touch the bared neck, stroke it to show his admiration and approval of all Demir did.

  That beautiful discipline, the obvious desire to serve, the way Demir was in every way the epitome of all a concubine should be… it was not something Ihsan had appreciated when he'd run away. He'd had too many other things on his mind to care about something that at the time had seemed so trivial.

  True loyalty and devotion were rare and precious; he was lucky to have the men he did. And though they had been reacquainted only minutes, it was so very apparent that Demir was well-suited to his role, born and trained to it.

  A pity it was all being wasted on Ihsan's useless, despicable father.

  He felt eyes upon him, turned, and caught Sabah's amused look, but Kitt's exclamations drew their attention before either could speak. Ihsan watched as he drew out the set of jewels that Demir had chosen for him. The first item was a choker made of several different gems cut into thin, rectangular bands. There were wide cuffs of the same for each wrist and his ankles. Jeweled cuffs for his ears, even a ruby to replace the plain gold stud in his nose. "I still want piercings like yours." His fingers twitched, but he didn't touch Demir again.

  "That can be arranged," Demir said. He removed something else from the velvet case, then moved to stand behind Kitt. His fingers carded through Kitt's hair, smoothing and untangling the already-dry strands. "Did you intend to cut your hair?"

  "No," Ihsan, Haluk, and Sabah chorused before Kitt could reply. Demir said nothing, and his expression remained impassive, but his glinting eyes seemed knowing.

  Kitt, being a brat, laughed. "Whatever my prince wants."

  "As you wish," Demir replied. He resumed fussing with Kitt's hair, pulling a comb from the folds of his skirt, and doing something with it that Ihsan could not even begin to follow. But the result was a beautiful arrangement of coiled braids that came together high on the back of his head, the whole threaded with strings of jeweled beads. "There."

  Ihsan stared. Apparently that was to be an ongoing problem. "You are always beautiful, Kitt, but I admit the Harem Master has a deft touch."

  "Deft, yes," Kitt muttered, adjusting the front of his wrap. "That is one word."

  "Behave," Sabah said.

  "If I must." Kitt turned to Demir. "Thank you."

  Demir gave a slight bow. "Always a pleasure to serve."

  Haluk shot Ihsan a look over Demir's shoulder, and Merciful Divine save him, Ihsan was going to drown them all in his bath if they did not stop it. They had more important matters to deal with, and even if they had nothing but free time, the behavior was inappropriate. Demir was temptation incarnate, but that did not mean they had to succumb. Ihsan gave a sharp jerk of his head.

  Smirk fading, Haluk bowed his head in acknowledgment of the silent reprimand. "Are you choosing something pretty, Sabah? I seem to remember you used wander around the palace draped in pretty things."

  "Pretty things my father paid for in the hopes I would attract a wife," Sabah replied with a sigh. "I would be deeply grateful, Your Highness, if you would forbid anyone touching me. If not, my father will throttle me."

  Ihsan chuckled. "I maintain you are overreacting. But, of course, no one outside the harem is allowed to touch any of you." He looked at Demir. "I would like that made known across the palace. You are the only besides myself who may touch them, and anyone who disobeys will be punished severely."

  "As you wish, Highness."

  "Lord Demir, what would you recommend for me?" Sabah asked.

  Demir returned to the trunk without a word and pulled out a red velvet case. In short order Sabah was draped in gold and rubies: ropes around his throat and waist connected by a chain of them that bisected his chest. His hair Demir left unbound, but he wove ruby and gold beads into it at random intervals.

  Haluk, decisiv
e and preferring simplicity, had already selected gold and leather cuffs for his wrists and upper arms, a gold torque to rest at the base of his throat, and moderate gold plugs for his ears to replace the silver ones he had been wearing.

  Strange, but good, to see them dressed so instead of in the heavy layers of war. Divine willing they would never have to dress for war again. "Beautiful. Thank you for the assistance, Lord Demir."

  "My pleasure, Your Highness. I assume they are to remain here with you instead of in the harem hall?"

  "Yes."

  Demir bowed low. "I will make certain your chambers are altered to suit. Have you any further need of me tonight?"

  Ihsan shook his head. "No, Harem Master. Thank you again for your assistance. I am sorry to have taken you from the banquet. I hope the rest of your night is peaceful. I will no doubt see you on the morrow."

  "Yes, Highness. Goodnight." Demir rose smoothly and left.

  Sabah blew out a ragged breath when he had gone. "I do not remember him looking like that when we left. If he did and we did not notice, there is something wrong with us."

  "There is something wrong with you," Haluk said as he returned everything they had decided against to the trunks. "He has always been beautiful, though he obviously ages like the best wines." Something flickered across his face, gone too quickly for Ihsan to catch it. A memory, perhaps? Haluk was older than the rest of them and only a few years younger than Demir. It would make sense if he recalled things about Demir the rest of them did not, had possibly even interacted with him in a way Ihsan and Sabah would not have back then. "We have far more important matters to discuss, but I admit it's hard to remember anything when he is standing nearby."

  The reminder of all they did have to discuss sobered Ihsan. Thoughts of Zehra rose up, but he pushed them away. If he let his grief have him, he would get nothing else done. "Haluk, find a servant and see what is taking Captain Fatih so long. I expected father to delay him, but this has gone too far."

  Haluk nodded and went off to see it done. He paused when he reached the door, drawing back as three servants entered bearing trays heavy with food. "Highness, Lord Demir bid us bring you a late dinner."