Kismet's Kiss: A Fantasy Romance (Alaia Chronicles)

by Cate Rowan

  “Give me your palm.”

  She put her right hand under the back of his. “Close your eyes and try to notice something…different.” She woke her own kyrra, reveling in its joyful song, then sought for his.

  His brow furrowed. “All I feel is your skin below mine. What am I supposed to sense?”

  “Some people think of it as a tingle, but it’s music to me. A rhythm—sometimes as deep as a drumbeat, and other times high like a piper leading me to the right way to heal.”

  “Music? I’ve heard it sometimes, when you work.”

  “An excellent sign, Sohad.”

  His mouth tensed into a frown. “But I don’t hear any of those things now.”

  “Wait. And listen.”

  Tight wrinkles formed around his eyes with the intensity of his concentration. They soon evaporated in surprise. “There’s a…hum, sort of.”

  “Yes?”

  “Deep inside. Like a bee buzzing, trapped in a glass.”

  “That’s it! And you’re the glass jar, Sohad. Open up and free the bee.”

  Eyes still closed, he laughed. “It tickles!”

  Joined at their hands, Varene laughed with him and nudged harder at his kyrra, now that he was connecting to it.

  “Oh!” he said. “That feels good!”

  “Does it?” roared the sultan of Kad.

  Varene and Sohad let go and whirled to Kuramos, who somehow loomed even from across the room.

  “G-Great Sultan,” Sohad began, his face turning a shade of alabaster. He ducked into a rapid bow. “The Healer was just t-teaching me…”

  Kuramos’s glower intensified. “Teaching you what?”

  “Just…just…”

  The sultan’s fiery gaze swung to Varene, but before he could speak again, Sohad wisely took the opportunity to escape. “I must go, O Lord, a patient…” and he scooted from the room as if his sandals were on fire.

  “What,” Varene growled, her hands planted on her hips, “is the matter?”

  Kuramos left the doorway and moved toward her with ominous strides. “I’ll ask the questions. What were you doing with him?”

  “Teaching him, just as he said!”

  “That didn’t look like any teaching I’ve ever seen!”

  Was he jealous again? The thought made her insides giddy, but his glare inflamed her ire. “That’s because you’ve never seen anyone learning about kyrra!”

  “Kyrra, is it? Your magical powers? Are you going to fill others’ heads with that now?”

  His betrayal blindsided her and sliced deep. Her mouth dropped open. “Fill their heads? These are the same powers I used to heal your family! Are you leaping back into bigotry and ignorance now that the danger is over?”

  “Do not mock me or my realm!” His voice stabbed the air. “Others in this land may not have your skills, but at least they have respect for Kad’s greatness and the deeds of its people. You should be on your knees before me!”

  Rage incinerated all vestiges of her prudence. “Well then, Great Sultan, I beg your forgiveness for my infidel, plebeian blood. How should I best worship your magnificence?” She dropped to the cold marble at his feet, raised her arms high, then swept them down to touch the floor. “Is this how it’s done, O Lord? O Great Sultan, Mightiest of Men, I am so far beneath your dignity that I am not worthy to kiss your feet, O Lord—”

  “Stop that.” His jaw clenched and the cords of his neck tightened.

  She raised her arms again. “I am scum, a devil in foreign clothing, an uppity bitch unworthy to be in your gracious presence—”

  “Stop!” He reached out, tried to pull her off the floor, but she yanked her hands out of reach. For a moment his flashing eyes towered a god’s height above as she crouched on the marble.

  And then Kuramos, the Great Sultan of Kad, dropped to his knees before her.

  Even in his half-stance, with his hands on his thighs and his knees almost touching hers, his back rose ramrod-straight and his shoulders topped her head. Their rapid-fire breaths mingled, then his low voice rumbled along her spine. “You did not deserve my anger, and for that I apologize.” His mouth firmed. “But you, in turn, mock our traditions and our ways. There are problems, yes, some terrible, but do not treat my people as your inferiors in enlightenment. Your Tegannese ways are just as foreign to us, to me, and just as odd. And though the riot was a horrible, unconscionable thing—within the palace, among my staff and family, you have been treated as a venerated guest.” He took her hands, which hung at her sides in shock, and wrapped his own around them. “And as a friend.”

  She was stunned into silence. Anyone could have passed by the Infirmary and seen their sultan on his royal knees, enfolding her hands in his. His fingers circled her ring, and his own jewelry shone bright, as well—the sapphire of a lion’s eye.

  She’d been the wounded lioness just now, lashing out in her hurt. And now the real lion was staring at her, regret and temper and desire all there in his gaze.

  He traced a finger along her jaw, and the wake of his touch rippled through her body.

  Her breath shuddered out of her, and she stared at his lips, wanting to taste them, to nip and bite and draw her claws along his back as she tangled with him…

  She shut her eyes against the image.

  His grip shifted, and suddenly he had pulled her to her feet. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but he’d already released her hands and stalked away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Excellent shot! I yield.” Prince Burhan lowered his bow and executed a courtly salaam to Zahlia.

  “Bravo, both of you!” Varene shouted, clapping along with the sultan’s wives and children. Burhan and Zahlia had vied to see who could split a pear at fifty paces, with many of the harem’s residents gathering to watch the contest in the courtyard garden. Three of Burhan’s five pears had exploded on impact, but Zahlia had speared her fourth and fifth as well. And Varene had managed her own successes, by affectionately ruffling Prince Tahir’s hair while Sulya wasn’t looking and by wearing Mishka’s daisy chain necklace again, which made the girl smile.

  Zahlia laughed and tipped her bow to Burhan in tribute. “Another year of practice for you and I’ll live in fear of my record being shattered.”

  “With Naaz’s grace, by then you’ll have set another.”

  Varene moved toward Zahlia. “I had no idea you were so proficient. You’d make an army flee in terror.”

  “If so, then may only our mutual enemies see me on the battlefield.”

  Varene smiled. “Well said, O Lady.”

  “‘Zahlia’ will do, though I appreciate the courtesy.” She glanced up at the blazing mid-day sky. “Whew, the sun is likely to roast us all in our skins.” Picking up her quiver, she eyed the mess of pears and arrows at the far end of the courtyard and waved a dismissive hand. “Retrieving them can wait until the cool air of nightfall, but I’m parched. Would you care to share a sherbet with me?”

  “I’d love to,” Varene said. “Kad elevates sherbet to an art.”

  In contrast to the elegance of Rajvi’s rooms or the comforts of Maitri’s, Zahlia’s quarters resembled a palatial hunting lodge. Skins of exotic beasts draped over her divans, the rugs portrayed falconry and boar hunts, and bows and spears of various sizes hung on the walls.

  Zahlia’s maidservant was just leaving, empty tray in hand.

  “Good timing as always, Eila,” the sultana said. “My thanks.” She motioned Varene into the bedchamber.

  Zahlia spooned snow from an insulated silver pot into two cups, then poured a sunset-hued liquid over them. “Orange-pomegranate, today. A favorite of mine.” Varene took the proffered cup and spoon and glanced about for a place to sit.

  “Here.” The sultana patted the pine silk of the bedspread and sat on it herself, cross-legged in her narrow-ankled trousers. “The bed is the most comfortable spot in a bedroom, is it not?”

  Varene followed suit, arranging her skirts around her, and by silent consent, both
fell to eating the delicious sherbet before the snow melted in the heat.

  The last spoonful rolled down Varene’s throat. “Mmm. I will be fat when I go home,” she announced in bliss.

  “Our cooks specialize in pleasing the sweet tooth. It’s fascinating we aren’t the size of heifers.” Zahlia took the cup and spoon from Varene and leaned to place them on a nearby table. “Of course, there are many ways to work off a good meal.”

  Varene reclined against the mounded pillows, her eyes half-closing in a sugar-induced euphoria. “With all those hunting weapons on the wall, I’d assume you get plenty of exercise.”

  “My family’s lands are in the hills days from here. Hunting is more than sport for us—it is the center of our culture. I made sure that would not change when I came to the palace.”

  Zahlia stretched out on her side, propping herself up on one arm, her russet tresses spilling across the bed. “Of course, sherbets and hunting are only two of the forms of recreation we enjoy here in Kad.” She arched a sensuous brow and slid the tip of her finger up Varene’s wrist. “For example…I’ve often made Rajvi very happy.”

  Varene stared down at the sultana in astonishment, only belatedly moving her hand away. “You…and the First Wife?”

  Zahlia gave a wicked grin. “Me and everyone. Except Sulya, who won’t play.” She pouted then, and rolled onto her back, displaying her bountiful breasts. Emeralds nestled in the décolletage of her brassiere top and dangled from her earlobes.

  “But…but you’re married to Kuramos! You’re all married to him.”

  “He doesn’t mind.” Zahlia shrugged. “Rajvi is a good wife and friend to him, and a wonderful Sha’Lai for Kad, but physically, she prefers women. They realized it early in their marriage.”

  “And you’re the Second Wife.” Varene gaped, trying to make sense of the boggling information. “Did you know this…?”

  “When I married the sultan? Hardly. My father’s triumph was becoming influential enough to merit a royal betrothal for me. I fought the whole idea—I’d never even met the sultan!—but on the wedding night…” She gave another wicked smile. “Kuramos certainly proved his merits. And then, over time, Rajvi and I grew to enjoy each other’s company quite well, too.”

  The enormous room now seemed cozy with secrets. “Does he…with you…all three of you?”

  Zahlia sighed. “No, though I’ve begged and wheedled and used every seductive wile. He won’t even watch. But he allows, since Rajvi is made that way. Still, he is a marvelously sexual creature, and indulges my urges whenever I need.” A piqued look crossed her face. “Except once. Recently. I believe…he was thinking of you.”

  Varene flushed all over and rose from the bed to hide her face from Zahlia. Her gaze bounced to the arched doorway, just thirty feet away, and she wistfully imagined sprinting through it. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  Zahlia rolled over again, stretching, like the cat who’d spied the mouse and was debating whether to do something about it. “You’re being coy, Varene. You already know.” When she didn’t respond, the sultana propped herself up on her elbows and cupped her chin in her joined hands. “Have you slept with him yet?”

  Varene started laughing, a shaky sound that barely covered her turmoil. “I was about to tell you that was none of your business. But I suppose it is.”

  “I may be one of his six wives, but that doesn’t mean I know everything he does. Or even that I should. Everyone’s entitled to privacy, including my husband. Though I am curious, naturally.” She fluttered her lashes.

  “So am I,” Varene muttered.

  “Ah!” Zahlia’s head popped up. “You haven’t slept with him yet. But you want him.”

  Her words were a statement, not a question, and shame burst over Varene like a monsoon. “Yes,” she exhaled a shaky breath. Suddenly she felt near tears.

  “My dear Varene, why do you look as if the world has ended?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? He’s married!”

  Zahlia laughed. “That certainly didn’t stop me.” Varene envisioned a satisfied twitch of Zahlia’s feline tail. “Why should it matter? He’s a very sexy creature, our dear sultan.”

  “That’s just it! He’s your sultan, your husband—all six of you! I—I can’t share that way.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t love another woman’s husband.”

  Zahlia sat up. “Love? Who said anything about love?” Her lips curved up. “My, now that is an interesting development.”

  “Wait, I didn’t mean I love him. I just meant that I’d have to love him. To…you know.”

  “To what—dance on his bone?”

  Varene wondered if an ear-cleaning was in order. Had she really heard that?

  “To dip his wick?” the coquette continued. “Play the game of twenty toes? Have some sugar stick? Feed the kitty?” She curled her fingers like sultry claws. “Rrrowr.”

  Varene’s cackle rolled into a belly-laugh that nearly turned her inside out. Tears leaked from her eyes and she collapsed to the bed beside the wide-smiling wife.

  “Ah, much better,” said Zahlia. “Things were looking a little serious for a moment. Besides, I was beginning to think you were a prude. And a virgin.”

  “I’m neither,” Varene snapped, but her mouth twisted in humor.

  “Good. I should hope not. There are so many delights in life, and bedding someone is one of them. Especially the sultan.” She purred again as a delicious memory seemed to seize her. “You really should try him.”

  “Oh, Mother Fate,” Varene said, head in hands. Why hadn’t she left long before the conversation took this turn? “This can’t be happening.”

  “What can’t?”

  “Listen, in Teganne, it’s… it’s just different. When people get married, they only marry one person. It’s not possible to have more than one wife. Or one husband for that matter.”

  “Mmm, more than one husband…” Zahlia rolled to her back and gazed up at the milk-white ceiling. “More than one sugar stick. What a delightful thought.”

  Varene shook her head and laughed again. “With everything I’ve seen, I thought I couldn’t be shocked. You’re something else.”

  Zahlia gave her a come-hither glance. “Yes, I am. Especially in bed. Are you sure I can’t tempt you?”

  Varene grinned. “Unlike Rajvi, I just don’t lean that way. Not that I don’t appreciate the compliment. Or what I’m sure are your excellent skills.”

  A pout pursed Zahlia’s lips momentarily, and then she shrugged. “All right. But…you should still try my husband.”

  Varene closed her eyes and sighed.

  “You want him, he wants you. What’s the difficulty? You’re both sexual creatures. Aren’t you?”

  Varene buried her face in a pillow.

  “I see. So just how long has it been?”

  “I refuse to answer,” said Varene, voice muffled by the pillow.

  “Mmm. You should join a harem. Then your problem would be solved.”

  “You’re kidding.” Varene opened one eye and peered over the pillow at the other woman. “Sorry, I meant no offense. It’s just not something I could do. Anyway, how could a harem be a solution? I mean, sure, there’s a man, but you all have to share him.”

  “Goodness, Kuramos would be exhausted if he were solely responsible for all of us! He’s a remarkably virile man, but men do have their limits.” Whereas Zahlia sounded like she had none at all. “That’s where I come in.”

  “So you’re his…designated second?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Is that common in Kad?”

  “Absolutely. Life would be boring without it. All those wives, just one husband. Why should we suffer?”

  Varene tapped a finger on her chin. “How open is this arrangement? I mean, what if one of the wives doesn’t desire women? Are other men allowed to…”

  Zahlia gave her a droll look. “Do you think that’s something our sultan would accept? I’m not such a fool as to try it. He lets his wives ‘sh
are’, as you so quaintly put it, amongst ourselves, if we like. But no, he’d never allow another man to be with us. After all, we are his wives, and he is the sultan of Kad. He couldn’t allow it and not lose honor. Honor is the paramount virtue for any Kaddite, but a thousand times more for our sultan!”

  “I don’t understand.” Varene frowned. “You may, um, enjoy yourselves with the other wives, but not with other men. Yet you were offering to let me…I mean, you would be offering him, hypothetically, if…”

  “Men are men. And Kuramos is the sultan. If he wishes to dally with a woman, why should I object?”

  “You’re his wife, for one thing!”

  “Feh. He deserves his playtime. Not that all the others would agree with that.” Zahlia’s lips took a sour twist. “We had…a system, shall we say. A successful one. When Kuramos forged another political alliance and a new wife joined us, she would find her place in the system, and somehow it always worked out. Until Sulya.” Zahlia waggled her finger again. “Now there’s another woman who won’t share.”

  “Yes, she’s…possessive. Bristly.”

  “You noticed.” The sultana chuckled.

  “I came here to help,” Varene mused, “but I swear she detested me from the moment I set foot in Kad.”

  “Sulya was raised to be the only woman who mattered to her husband. She has a sixth sense for rivals.”

  “I’m not…” Varene began, then stopped herself. Wasn’t she? In a hypothetical world in which Kuramos was single and was free to be with her, she’d be in a very different state of mind. Because she did want him. She wanted to take him to her bed and do all manner of things with him, and have them done to her…

  And that was the problem. They weren’t living in that fantasy world. He was already married. Married. Even if there were six wives, even if they were fine with “sharing” of sorts, Varene could never agree to that. She would want him to herself. And she couldn’t begrudge Sulya the right to her own husband.

  “Royal Healer?” Priya’s tentative voice rose from beyond the room.

  “She’s in here,” the sultana called. “Please enter.”

  Priya obeyed, and gave a deep bow to the sultana, then addressed Varene. “My lady, more patients have arrived, if you’re willing to see them.”