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

by Cate Rowan

  “Yes, of course.” She rose from the bed with an apologetic gesture to Zahlia.

  “Too bad.” The sultana swung her graceful legs to the floor. “Perhaps we can do this again sometime. The sherbet, I mean.” Her eyes twinkled.

  Varene laughed. “I’d enjoy that. The sherbet was divine, as was the company.” Feeling playful, she followed Priya’s suit and performed her first Tegannese bow.

  Zahlia made a graceful flourish of her hand, setting her bracelets jingling, and winked. “Be off with you both. I think I’ll go find Rajvi.”

  As Varene and the handmaiden departed for the Infirmary, Zahlia’s coy voice sauntered after them: “Remember my suggestion, dear Healer.”

  “I doubt I could ever forget it!” Varene called back. But there’s no point in heeding it—my time in Kad will be over soon, and I don’t need that kind of trouble.

  Priya had not been quite forthright. She’d said only that “more” patients had arrived—but the Infirmary’s main room was packed with eleven of them, either sick or injured, some with relatives in tow, and all curious about the real nature of the sorceress in the sultan’s palace.

  Sohad had given Varene an overwhelmed and thankful glance as she’d walked in. It took three hours to work through all the patients, with him bandaging or sewing up those least injured and Varene concentrating on those who most needed the investigative or strengthening aid of her magic.

  When the last patient departed, she straightened and pressed her hands to her aching lower back. “Well done!” she told Sohad and Priya. “Efficiently handled, and every one of those people will mend.”

  “We make a good team.” Sohad gave a pleased nod, then slid his gaze to Priya, who smiled.

  “We do,” Varene agreed. A shame we won’t be one for long. She leaned back and stretched. “What I want right now is a hot bath and a good chair.” Sohad echoed her with a wistful groan.

  Priya laughed. “I’ll come help you, my lady.”

  “No, no,” Varene said. “I’ll be fine. Shoo. You two go enjoy yourselves.”

  Priya shook her head, and her mouth took that firm line that indicated her backbone was in gear. “Duty—and friendship—first, my lady. You’ve worked long and hard and deserve some pampering. Let’s go.” She took Varene’s elbow and strode toward the door.

  Varene chuckled as she allowed herself to be led. “My orders are noted.” She and Priya waved goodbye to Sohad, who looked distinctly disappointed to be abandoned.

  Once they were out of earshot, Priya began to giggle. “He needs to know I’m not always available to him.”

  “Ah.” Varene and the handmaiden shared an us-against-them look. “Excellent strategy.” She wondered if that would work with Kuramos.

  No! She gave herself a mental shake. You’ll soon leave for home. The last thing she needed was to become more entangled.

  She turned into her quarters with Priya just behind her and her mind on the evening’s pleasures—a hot, solitary bath, an early bed, and a restful night of sleep. Something new rested at the foot of the bed: a trunk of burnished wood with a cascade of orange blossoms and red roses spilling down the sides.

  Uh-oh.

  “Ooh!” Priya said, staring. “How beautiful!”

  Beautiful, yes…but Varene eyed it sideways. The trunk could only have come from the sultan—and therefore whatever was in it would likely twine her further with him and with Kad.

  “Don’t you want to open it, my lady?”

  Priya’s surprise at the delay finally nudged Varene into motion. She lifted the armful of blossoms and laid them on the bed, trying not to be charmed by their heavenly scents and failing miserably. The trunk’s lid was carved with a sun above desert hills, and rose on hinges smooth as melted butter.

  Silken garments shimmered in the light of the late afternoon sun—golden veils, skirts in royal purple and champagne, blueberry and garnet, cherry and snow. Slim-fitting pants in mulberry and custard and licorice. Kaddite brassiere tops to match, encrusted with pearls and emeralds and sapphires of every shade. In the center of them all lay a bundle of swan-white silk tied with a string of glimmering black pearls.

  She untied the pearls and released the bundle, its many layers as soft as butterflies’ wings against her fingers. Beneath them, nestled in a final layer of silk so sheer Varene could already see the sparkles, coiled a necklace and earrings of purple sapphires and diamonds, sparkling in the warm light like faerie stars.

  She held the necklace to her throat, and Priya’s mesmerized intake of breath matched her own.

  “I’ve never seen such lovely things, my lady. Not on the courtiers’ ladies, or the ambassadors’…not even on any of the sultanas.”

  Varene let the necklace dangle from her cupped hands like molten wishes. They’re only gems, just clothing—merely THINGS, she admonished herself. Nothing she hadn’t been around before. But in truth, she’d never seen the like—or felt anything as exquisite. And the fabrics of Kad were as seductive as its sultan. She let the garments slide across her fingers, her wrists, her arms, and a sensual thrill rose from her awakened skin.

  Beneath the bundle of the necklace lay a note of crisp parchment and calligraphy. Absurdly, her hands shook as she picked it up.

  To the Royal Healer who has given me back my world, I give all the colors of Kad. May she wear them in health and in joy for as long as the sun and the moon dance across the sky.

  Tonight my family will also dance. We will celebrate those who passed through the Sands of the Dead to sleep at Naaz’s feet, and the woman who helped others to heal and to live. You and your two assistants will be the guests of honor. Be ready a half-hour before sunset.

  She handed it to Priya, who read it with entranced eyes, then glanced out the window. “Not much time left, my lady.”

  “Time enough to get clean.” She turned to the handmaiden and made a shooing motion. “Now go get ready, yourself! You’re a guest of honor, too.”

  The handmaiden hesitated. “I said I would help you, and that’s my duty.”

  “I appreciate your duty, but you’ve more than fulfilled it today, and I’m quite capable of washing myself and getting ready for an evening. So go. Go!”

  A tentative smile bloomed on Priya’s lips.

  Varene gave her wrist a quick squeeze of friendship, and of thanks. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Then she was alone. She loosened the side-laces of her gown and pulled it over her head, and her shift as well, and immersed herself in the deep bath. Steam curled over her, rising to the ceiling in elegant swirls.

  Friendship…what a welcome surprise. Without even realizing it, she’d made new friends among Kuramos’s household—Priya and Zahlia, Maitri and Rajvi, too. Mishka was a shy delight, and Tahir a joyful miniature of his father. Burhan was a true gentleman and a credit to Kuramos as well, and though she knew little yet of Taleen and Nireh, she liked them, especially the reserved Taleen. And the self-involved but kindhearted Gunjan made her laugh. The only sore spot was Sulya.

  But of all of them, only Zahlia knew of Varene’s feelings for Kuramos. Sulya suspected them, and her enmity about that was blazingly clear. What would the others think if they discovered the truth?

  She dipped her chin in the water and squeezed her eyes shut. If she were one of Kuramos’s wives, she wouldn’t wish to know her husband was eyeing another woman, and that the woman was eyeing him back.

  It would be best for everyone involved if Varene left, and soon. She could start the long fydd journey back tomorrow. She’d cured all those she could and discovered the origin of the illness so it could be prevented in the future. Truly, what reason was there to stay?

  For him, whispered an inner voice. A selfish voice, surely, because to do as it urged would injure those around her. Zahlia might not mind, but Sulya certainly did. And what of the other wives, and his children?

  She ducked lower in the water, making soft bubbles with her mouth. She shouldn’t have been so honest with Zahlia. Wh
at if the sultana told the others? Varene’s job was to heal hurts, not inflict them. She didn’t want to be responsible for others’ pain. She already had been, long ago. And had been responsible for their deaths, too.

  Her ring formed a dull gleam in the water as she stared at it. Resentment flared up through her chest and throat. She grabbed the ring, trying to force it over her knuckle and off. She would throw it across the room…toss it and its memories as far from her as she could.

  Even in the water, the ring wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t slide from her finger to free her.

  Trapped.

  Maybe that’s as it should be, she tried to tell herself. You wear the ring for a reason. Your previous mistake with a married man cost lives.

  When she’d finished washing, she wrapped a towel around herself and stepped back into her bedchamber. A songbird warbled in the descending light. She ran the brush through her damp hair and pulled it back into its habitual ponytail.

  The marble floor cooled her toes as she walked to the open trunk and stared into it. What would she risk by wearing the clothing and jewelry Kuramos had sent? Putting on the garb of Kad meant removing the garb of Teganne, of her home. Stripping away, literally and figuratively, another layer of her defenses against him. Surely it would mark her as the sultan’s property—branded—not only to herself and to him, but to everyone who would see her…

  Don’t be melodramatic. Clothes are just things. And you’ll be leaving soon. Tomorrow, perhaps. What harm can fall from a gift of clothes and jewels—and such gorgeous ones, at that? The colors he chose are scrumptious, and the fabrics so sensual against your skin. She reached down and skimmed her fingers over the silks.

  The champagne skirt and top, she decided, to set off the purples of the necklace. She pulled the towel from her body and flung it from her.

  Somehow, even though she’d stripped down in order to dress her entire life, doing so now seemed freeing, deliciously uninhibited. In fact, she felt wickedly sinful in all the right ways.

  Whistling now, she slipped into the brassiere, admiring the way the gold embroidery shimmered against her breasts. She reached for the skirt and something fell to the floor.

  A pair of matching silk panties.

  That naughty sultan. He certainly knew his way around a woman…

  She stepped into the panties and tugged them slowly over her hips, wondering what it would be like for the sultan to tug them back down. She glanced briefly at the mirror, then as if her eyes were pulled back there by magnets, she stared at her reflection again.

  The panties were exquisite. And, in a moment of sheer delight, Varene realized that in them, she was, too.

  The narrow sides curved around her hips, then dipped low, covering the blonde hair at the juncture of her thighs. They emphasized her curves in a way that wasn’t indecent at all…but womanly. Sensual. Both secretive and beckoning.

  She wrapped the side-slit skirt around her and knotted it at her hips so it came up to her belly button—but then the hem was much too short, ending oddly above her ankles. Loosening the ties until the skirt rode low, she exposed far more of her midriff and tummy than she ever had before.

  Experimenting, she took a few steps. Suddenly she felt slinky, catlike, and…daring. Definitely not her usual self.

  It’s just one night, Varene… Would it be so bad to take what you want, this once? To be with the sultan, to enjoy what’s offered to you with no strings? You’re leaving. Nothing more can come of it. Can’t you let yourself be free for one night of your life?

  She slipped a purple scarf from the trunk and wrapped it around her hips, covering what had been exposed…and then, as she stared into the mirror, she tucked it lower, the slash of color accenting her curving hips.

  The jewels she clasped around her neck hung as if made just for her. The largest gem, a purple as deep as the depths of an ocean, snuggled above her bosom. The earring stems slid into holes rarely used and danced against her neck, arousing her with memories…Kuramos had kissed her there.

  Finally, she pulled a pair of sandals from the trunk, beaded with pearls across straps that criss-crossed her feet and tied above her slender ankles. Oddly, of all her skin newly bared by the sleek Kaddite garb, she noticed the exposure of her toes the most. The same toes the sultan had so recently fondled while he’d cleaned her silk shoes.

  It wasn’t as if no one had seen her naked toes before—she’d gone swimming in the cold Pwylla River that ran beside the royal castle in Teganne. And even—her lips twitched up at the admission—skinny-dipping a time or two in the moonlight. Though that had been a very long time ago.

  Maybe it was time to regain that part of herself.

  There was a soft scratching at the door, then Priya entered. As she spotted Varene, she didn’t say a word, just clasped her hands over her mouth in wonder.

  Suddenly, all those areas of skin Varene hadn’t thought so exposed seemed to tighten in the air. But she forced her hands down, away from them, and looked back into the mirror.

  Yes, maybe it was time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A messenger swathed in white came to Varene’s door and escorted her and Priya through many long halls to a large passageway Varene had never seen before. The doors were open at the end, and through them lay a long dock…and a beautiful ship. Two hundred people could easily have fit on its decks, and from the looks of the crowd gathering on it and at the ramps, it would be close to capacity this evening.

  The flowers that seemed ever-present in Kad bedecked the ship, curling over the railings and coiling up the masts. Oars stretched from the hull toward the water, and the sails above depicted a fiery sun over a golden lion rampant rearing on its hind legs, claws outstretched. The symbol of the sultan of Kad, no doubt—or perhaps of Kuramos himself. Until the day before, Varene had assumed they amounted to the same thing. Now she knew that the man inside the sultan felt the chafe of an inescapable set of manacles—the golden ones of rulership.

  Like her, he needed freedom. Should they give each other one night of it?

  The messenger led the two women up a ramp to the main deck. Above was a smaller deck, and Varene wondered about its purpose. The view up there would be fantastic.

  The messenger bowed and departed. Varene and Priya moved to the far side of the boat and leaned over the railing, gazing out upon the city to the left and the sultan’s wheat fields across the river. Beyond the fields, the tawny desert sparkled. To the right, rising foothills jutted into the mountains beyond, their forbidding peaks crested with snow. The sun was descending behind the women, and would soon set over the city, turning the clouds on the horizon orange and peach and pink, like Kaddite sherbets.

  The landscape thrilled Varene in every direction. Teganne’s rolling green hills and ancient forests were familiar and beautiful, as was Fallorm’s snowier climate—or at least, she’d loved the snow in her childhood. But there was something about this place, about Kad, that sparked delight in her soul.

  “I see you enjoy my view,” the sultan said behind them.

  Both women turned, and Priya made a deep bow. After a second’s hesitation, Varene followed suit in the Kaddite style.

  As she raised herself and looked into his eyes, she realized her brassiere top was probably affording him a brazen display of her cleavage. Her cheeks flushed when her suspicion was confirmed by his lingering gaze.

  His white teeth gleamed. “You both look lovely.” He gave a benevolent smile to the handmaiden.

  “Th-thank you, O Lord,” Priya said, her gaze dropping to the lustrous wood of the deck. “You’re so kind to invite me this evening.”

  “Nonsense. You worked hard for your mistress and were instrumental in saving my family and household. Your loyalty and courage will always be remembered.” He glanced toward the stern of the ship and back to her, eyes twinkling. “By the way, I believe there’s someone looking for you.”

  Varene followed the sultan’s glance and spotted Sohad, taller than many of the
others on board, scanning the crowd.

  Priya couldn’t hide the pleasure in her eyes. “Then if you’ll excuse me, O Lord?” She bowed once more.

  The sultan waved his hand to let her pass, and once she was out of earshot, he locked his gaze on Varene. “I’m glad to be alone with you again.”

  Varene laughed, a sound breathless even to her own ears. “I’d hardly call this ship unpopulated.”

  “How true,” he said with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “So follow me.”

  Warmth flushed her chest at his admiring appraisal. He held out his hand, and she took it.

  They wound their way through other guests, who all stopped their conversations and bowed low to the sultan. Varene felt a blush heat her cheeks. Caught by his firm hand, she couldn’t distance herself from him. Their passage together and the intimacy of their touch would be noticed by all.

  Some of those they passed wore the black of mourning—friends and family of the patients who’d passed from the illness—but though she noticed a melancholy tinge to their expressions, there were more smiles than she expected.

  Perhaps the wording on the parchment meant more than she’d presumed—maybe Kaddites were truly able to celebrate the dead. As a Healer who couldn’t always save her patients, she could appreciate that.

  Kuramos led her to a spiral staircase and waved her up it. As Varene started up the stairs, she felt a momentary panic and glanced about. She spotted Zahlia nearby with a glass of wine in hand, watching them ascend. Kuramos’s Second Wife gave her a broad wink and raised her glass before disappearing as Varene continued around the curve.

  The sultana’s words rang in Varene’s ears. You really should try him. You really should try him. Really should…

  She thought of Kuramos behind her, his eyes likely around the level of her waist. “I am enjoying my view, as well…” If her buttocks could blush, they certainly would have.