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

by Cate Rowan

  “You would have me be just one of your harem—”

  “No!” He took a long breath, as if, like her, he felt the balance between them shifting, breaking. “When my people have accepted you as a sultana, when they have realized your worth as I do, I will make you the Sha’Lai. My most revered, the foremost, the First Wife of Kad. You are my one love, Varene, and when my people have grown used to your ways, I will make your rank clear to everyone. I will praise your worth from the highest minarets of my land.”

  Though she knew it was illogical, his words galled her further. He would make her the Sha’Lai and dump the kind and deserving Rajvi from the position? “How thrilling.” She glared at him with all the force of her bruised heart.

  His eyes darkened. “You insult my offer, as you insult my rank.”

  “I would have you as my husband, and I as your wife—your only wife. And that would honor me, and what I mean to you!”

  He stared at her, incredulous. “And my other wives? You would have them forfeit their places in the palace, have them flung back to their family’s homes and lands with nothing, my children at their heels?”

  Shocked, she inhaled, realizing that was exactly what she wished.

  In her mind, she saw herself walking through the palace, draped in a sultana’s finery. Jeweled bracelets flashed and clinked at her wrists, silken veils floated around her as she took Kuramos’s hand and walked at his side. His only wife, celebrated as his one true love.

  But her footsteps echoed along sterile, vacant halls. A chill wind whistled past her with each stride. All the laughter and joy in the palace vanished.

  And then she was alone…

  Varene hunched and clapped her hands to her ears. “No! I don’t want that!”

  She stared up at him, and as she did, lightning flashed between them. She watched his chest rise and fall, and her eyes wandered, unwillingly, to the bronzed skin of his neck, the sharp line of his jaw, to his lips, cynical and sensual. She blinked and forced her gaze away, only to turn back after several unendurable moments to meet his green eyes.

  “You don’t understand why I can’t marry you,” she said, slowly. “Our cultures are different; we both know that. So let me put this another way. Could you share me with another man, Kuramos?”

  His scowl returned.

  Chin in the air, she slid toward him. “Could you allow another to wed me? To take me in his arms, kiss me, undress me, touch me, to—”

  “Stop.”

  She stepped closer. “Sohad, perhaps… Or Sulya’s brother, that red-garbed courtier Firoz—”

  “Enough!” he roared.

  Her voice rose to match his. “You think I’m yours? Well, I think you’re mine. Mine alone.” Their gazes locked and grappled. “I cannot share you. I love you, Kuramos. It’s all or nothing for me.”

  He ground his teeth together. “So you would choose nothing. Both of us get nothing. Riven from each other, bereft of love. How can you so easily discard what is between us?”

  “It will be the greatest agony I can bear.” She took a shuddering breath. “But the alternative is something I can’t bear at all.”

  A vein throbbed in his temple as he looked down on her. The few feet between them might as well have been a chasm. “Varene, two people don’t get this chance very often. It is Kismet who brought us together. There are difficulties, yes. But there must be a way. A way through.”

  “Not for this.”

  “If you can’t bring yourself to be my wife, then stay. Just stay. As my Physician, as—”

  “Your mistress?” she bit out. “I have a life and a home in Teganne, Kuramos. You have a life and a sultanate and wives here in Kad. I could not be less than your wives, any more than I could be merely one of them.”

  He held still. The tenderness on his face hardened into stone. “Do you love me, Varene?”

  Grief swelled in her blood and she splayed her palms. “You know I do.”

  Lowering his shoulders, he exhaled a deep breath. He reached for her hands, enfolded them in his own. “Then…”

  She couldn’t say the words he wanted, though they were begging to be spoken. She shook her head.

  His fingers tightened around hers in disgust. “I see. So all the while, even when we were making love, you closed your ears and your heart. When I was talking of forever, you’d already given up.”

  She yanked her hands away and strode toward her clothes on the nightstand.

  “You cannot leave me.” He stormed toward her. “I forbid it!”

  She jerked her chemise from the stand and pulled it on. “You’ll have to find another Royal Physician. If you like, I’ll send a list of recommended Healers.” She spotted her ripped and useless panties on the floor and savagely yanked the gown down her body. “And I’ll need a mount and an escort for the journey home. I’ll leave tomorrow. Because in case it has escaped you yet again, I am not your subject and I do not owe you fealty!”

  But as she glared up at him, she glimpsed the torment hidden behind his fury. Her soul shredded at the sight, but she had no options left. “Kuramos, I will love you always. Always. But I cannot stay.”

  His only answer was the flare of his nostrils.

  From the corner of her eye, she noticed something familiar on his nightstand and reached for it. She fingered the hairband she’d abandoned on the ship. “You kept it?”

  His deep voice thrummed with unspoken emotion. “I was hoping you wouldn’t need it again.”

  A hollowness spread from her heart throughout her body. She pulled her hair back and slipped the band over it. “I have to get ready for Priya and Sohad’s wedding.”

  He grabbed her shoulders. “Varene. Don’t do this. Don’t take the safe route now—you won’t be happy. You’ll be alone.”

  Her face heated and she shrugged off his hands. “Thank you. Thank you for that reminder of what I will face. While you will have your wives to keep you warm.”

  “Is that what you think? I didn’t tell you I love you because they were pretty-sounding words. I told you because if you leave, it will rip my heart out. Because you have it now. It’s yours, and no matter who is around me, I, too, will be alone without you.”

  Hot tears spilled from her eyes. Shuddering, she reached up and clung to him, kissing him as if her world was ending.

  Then she pulled back and said the hardest word of all: “Goodbye.”

  When she swung the curtain aside and exited his bedchamber, she heard both their hearts shatter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Oh! It’s so beautiful.” Priya’s hands fluttered up to cover her mouth as she stared into the room in which she would soon marry. “This is all for us? Sohad, at least he is the Assistant Physician, but I’m just a handmaiden. I know the sultan is generous, but…”

  “Of course it’s for you.” Varene managed a reassuring smile, and for a moment Priya’s elation made her own misery recede. “And you’re not just a handmaiden,” she admonished. “You’re a valued member of the sultan’s household and a talented caregiver. And soon to be a married woman.” She turned her gaze back to the huge chamber that had been transformed into paradise for the dusk wedding.

  They stood in one of the high, arched entrances. Strings of roses, orange blossoms and lotuses flowed like rainbow waterfalls down the sculpted columns. A fountain at the back of the room spread the fresh scent of raindrops throughout, and Varene inhaled the soothing humidity. The domed skylight above lent a warm glow to the air while unlit torches lay in sconces, ready for the moment the day would transition into night. Wedding guests wandered about, full glasses in hand.

  Giddy joy brimmed in Priya’s gorgeous, kohl-smudged eyes. “I can’t believe my fate. Kismet was so kind to me. And,” she added with a sigh, “it’s all because of you.”

  “Me? Not at all.” Varene waved her fingers in dismissal. “I just came to help.”

  “You nudged Sohad into declaring for me. If you hadn’t done that…well, he’s a cautious ma
n.” Priya’s eyes twinkled.

  Varene glanced down at her friend’s golden skirt and pearl-encrusted bandeau, gifts from the sultan. She looked…radiant. Just as a bride should. Which made Varene’s next words all the more difficult. “Please forgive me for this, but I feel I must ask. You’re sure about this wedding? It’s all been so quick…”

  Priya’s face glowed even more. “When Sohad kissed me, I knew. Here,” she said, tapping her heart.

  Yes, Varene thought. I loved Kuramos even before we kissed. On the boat, in the sunset, I looked at him and knew.

  Today she had been offered everything she wanted. And had given it up.

  An ache flared at her temples. “What will you do if…if Sohad…takes another wife?” She bit her lip and felt her cheeks flame.

  Priya stared at her for a long moment as comprehension dawned on her face. “Did…did the sultan…”

  “Shh.” Varene shook her head, all her despair flooding back even as her friend’s mouth made an “O”. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I just can’t live that way, one of many. Are you sure you can?”

  Priya blinked, and her expression shifted into contrition, and even worse, pity. “Sohad’s family has a long tradition of single marriages. He said that’s the only way he wants it. I never expected it. I’d always assumed if I married, I’d be a later wife, like my mother. Part of a bigger family. I don’t—”

  “Oh.” Priya will be Sohad’s only wife. The news clamped her chest. Priya would be Sohad’s first and only wife, while Varene…

  Varene would be Kuramos’s nothing.

  But that had been her choice, hadn’t it?

  “That’s wonderful, so fortunate, Priya!” But her eyes welled up, betraying her.

  Priya’s mouth twisted in empathy before she enfolded Varene in a hug.

  “I’m happy for you,” Varene whispered, resting her cheek against Priya’s and wiping away the traitorous tears. “So happy. Please don’t think—”

  “I don’t,” Priya said simply. “You’ve been wonderful to me, and I know you want only the best for us. As you deserve for yourself.” She stepped back, took Varene’s hands and looked into her eyes like a wise mother instead of the assistant Varene had come to know. “Can you not marry him? Stay here, with us, make your home and your life here?”

  “With all my heart, I wish I could. But…” How could she give herself up to a man who had six other wives to please? “You were born and raised here, Priya. Multiple marriages are normal to you, I know. And yet, you found a man who will wed only you. Is it so wrong to want the same for myself? To be the one and only love of my husband, the only woman with whom he shares his bed and his body?”

  “What if you’re the only woman with whom he shares his heart?” Priya’s gaze deepened with sympathy. “You love each other? You’ve given your heart to him as well?”

  “I have,” she whispered.

  “Then if your heart is here, how can you leave?” She gave Varene’s hands another soft squeeze.

  “Priya.” The male voice startled them both, and Varene turned to find Sohad dressed in sky-blue and smiling adoringly at his bride. When Priya saw him, she gave a wordless, happy sigh.

  “Royal Healer.” Sohad bowed formally, though a beatific smile warmed his cheeks.

  “Blessings on you both,” Varene said, and stepped forward to kiss his cheek, hoping she hadn’t disgraced herself with her internal tumult. Then she slipped away, needing to be farther from such bliss.

  She crossed the room, inordinately aware of the whirl of conversations and happy laughter from those standing all around her. Kuramos hadn’t yet arrived, although his wives and children were there to celebrate the nuptials. Varene looked around for a place to sit in relative privacy for the ceremony. No spot seemed particularly secluded, so she settled at the end of a row of pillows along the far wall. She felt guilty about not being more sociable on her last day in Kad, but it seemed kinder not to spread her melancholy.

  She knelt on the burgundy velvet cushion and sent her thoughts toward Teganne. With Priya and Sohad wed, she’d be free to return to her life there. She’d be back among old friends, and over time, maybe she could learn to forget. To bury herself again.

  No. She couldn’t do that anymore. Her hand slid over the braids she’d plaited at her temples; they met at her nape and rippled down over the rest of her flowing hair. She’d chosen to let her hair be neither free like the Kaddites’ nor simply yanked back in a ponytail as she’d always worn it, but something else—new for her, and elegant, she hoped, to match the swan-white skirt and brassiere top from Kuramos’s wooden trunk.

  The man with the sea-god’s eyes had coaxed her out of her comfortable seashell, and now the old shell wouldn’t fit her anymore. She’d need to find a new one, bigger and brighter. Kuramos had made her aware of herself again, stirred her to recognize her own wants and desires. But her biggest need—for him, forever—was something his own situation would never let him fulfill.

  And then, suddenly, there he was.

  Her lungs forgot their rhythm when she saw him framed in the arch of the entranceway. His scimitar hung in a scabbard of jeweled gold beside the white garments he, too, had chosen. The snowy cloth of his churidar and vest, studded with sapphires of deep plum, revealed his broad shoulders and his tanned skin. The skin she’d so recently smelled and touched and nestled against.

  His eyes searched the room, and when they met hers, her gut tensed. Steel rammed through his gaze, and she clamped her fingers around the rolled edge of the pillow. Then he turned his head and strode to the other end of the room.

  Varene closed her eyes and exhaled. Her head said this pain was the necessary price of giving in to their love—but that didn’t make it easier to bear. In fact, if he was feeling as she was, they were now suffering more, much more, than if they’d never tumbled into bed.

  When she faced front and opened her eyes, she was startled to meet a different stare—Taleen’s. Kuramos’s shy Fifth Wife was sitting in the row of pillows just in front of her.

  By Fate, Varene realized, she saw. She knows.

  Feeling like a rabbit crossed by a shadow, Varene gave a tight smile.

  Taleen’s copper eyes turned surprisingly sympathetic.

  Both women were silent for a few moments, and then Taleen left her pillow and moved to the one beside Varene. Varene’s stomach quivered.

  Kuramos’s wife stared down at the peony-shaded toes peeping from her sandals as if gathering her thoughts, and finally whispered, “Healer, he’s a good man.”

  Varene nodded. “The best.”

  A smile rose to the sultana’s lips. “Yes. And he deserves the best.”

  Varene’s face stiffened. “I want that for him, too.”

  Noting the shift, Taleen retreated on her pillow. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  “That’s just it.” Varene shook her head. “How can you say that? How can who your husband loves be none of your business?”

  Taleen gave a slow nod. “I went from being an only wife to being the Fifth Wife of Kad,” she said softly. “It wasn’t a simple thing.”

  “So…you were married before Kuramos? I had no idea.”

  “Umar was a pasha’s eldest son. The pasha was manipulated into rebellion by the Lakshyya, a rival family of the House of Kad. Although my husband and I were royalists, family duty prevailed. Umar fought Kuramos for his father.” She gave a sad shrug.

  “And he died in the fighting? Are you telling me…Kuramos killed your first husband?” Varene sucked in her breath.

  “Neither had a choice, Healer. Kismet had woven their fates.”

  Taleen’s face was composed, even queenly, but deep in her eyes, Varene saw grief curled there.

  “The sultan defeated my father-in-law,” the sultana continued. “As is tradition, a marriage was arranged to seal the end the rebellion. My father-in-law had no daughters himself, so…”

  “You were a new widow, yet forced to remarry?
Taleen, I can’t imagine—”

  “I would have done much more than that to end the war that had taken Umar from me.”

  Varene exhaled. “You loved him.”

  “More than my life. And he had asked me, should anything befall him in the battle, to honor him by healing the rift between his father and his sultan. I would have married Kuramos just for Umar. I didn’t foresee—well, I didn’t expect to find myself for the second time with a wonderful husband. And with a son.”

  Taleen glanced at Prince Burhan, who was standing beside a table filled with food. She smiled, then projected her voice into warning tones. “I told you already, not until after the ceremony!”

  Burhan gave a mischievous grin and withdrew his fingers from a pile of cardamom cookies. Little Tahir, standing hopefully beside him, put his hand behind his back and tried to look innocent.

  Varene chortled. “Did I mention your son broke into the palace to make sure you were surviving? He loves you very much.”

  Mirth crinkled Taleen’s eyes. “He told me.” Then her face grew serious. “And yes, Burhan does love me, as I love him. I’d give my life for him—and so would Kuramos. As you and I have agreed, the sultan is a good man. The best.” She patted Varene’s arm, hesitating. “Are our ways of marriage so different that you can’t find peace with them?”

  Varene blinked, astonished. “You would accept it? Kuramos marrying me?”

  “Of course,” the sultana said patiently. “We are a family, all of us. You’ve nursed us back to health with your skills and your care, helped our children, made our husband happy—as he has always tried to do for us. Why would we not want you with us?”

  Varene snapped her mouth closed, then glanced at Sulya, leaning against a wall across the room, a pensive expression on her face. “I don’t think everyone feels that way.”

  “Sulya can be…difficult to be around at times. But in the end, even she must bow to Kismet. The god’s wisdom is beyond that of mortals.”

  “Taleen, I… Do you realize what your husband offered me?” she whispered. To make me his Sha’Lai.

  The Fifth Wife sat silent for a moment. “Whatever it was, it’s his right as the sultan.”