Joining her on the floor, Ehmet faced the countess and they both sat like children with their legs spread wide. He tapped her slipper with his boot. She looked up.
“Why didn’t you come through the receiving line?”
“Didn’t feel likeit.”
“Who didn’t feel like it? Saka or Hevva?”
“Dunno.” She swigged from the dwindling bottle and held it out to him, an offering. “You want some? It’s terrible.”
He twisted the bottle in her hand to look at the label. It was a cooking wine. “I think I’ll pass.”
Perusing the collection in his line of sight, Ehmet selected one that was more to his, and anyone’s, taste. “Do you have a corkscrew?”
“No.” She hiccupped.
He nodded at her bottle. “How’d you open that?”
“It’s wood. I just—” she made a popping sound with her lips. Then she demonstrated, and with apopthe cork from his bottle went flying across the room. Two more followed, and he could hear twin streams of liquid pouring out onto the floor somewhere nearby. Then, Hevva clapped for herself, inadvertently tossing her empty bottle to the side.
He chuckled, tapping her shoes with his own as he took a swig. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”
She pointed at him, and around him, and also past him. “How much have youuu had to drink tonight?”
“Probably as much as you. But I’m much larger.”
“Much.”Her eyes dropped to his groin, and she eyed him with such intensity that she began to tip forward before catching herself and snapping up. Hevva’s head thunked against the wall and she squeezed her eyelids closed.
He chuckled through his nose. This woman was ridiculous.
It was then that Ehmet saw two glistening tears trailing down her rosy cheeks.
“Hey,” he softened his voice, “what’s wrong?”
Her silver eyes shot open, and she swiped at her face like a child before throwing her hands up in defeat. “Everything is terrible.”
“Why?”
When she didn’t answer, he tapped his toes against hers.
“Saka likes Berim.”
Ehmet pressed his lips between his teeth, in a gods-awful attempt at repressing a smile.
“No!” Hevva crossed her hands over her chest petulantly. “It is not funny. Berim’s not even here.”
“What do you mean? I’m right here.”
She rolled her eyes, and her head went along for the journey. “You’re Ehmet. Don’t be stupid.” Regaining control of her neck, she hit him with a dramatic glare that pierced his defenses. “Berim’s dead.”
His brows popped in amusement. “Well . . . what happened to him?”
“Stable fire. He was crushed between a fallen beam and a horse. He died.”
Ehmet exhaled a laugh and half wondered if this woman was mad. “I heard there were some healers on site who got there in time. I think he survived.”
“No. He didn’t.”
“Do you want him dead?”
