“I apologize for the wait. One of my eunuchs brought a new odalisque to the palace today,” Hosmunt said jubilantly as he sat heavily, folding his legs beneath the table just as I’d done nearly an hour previous.
I simply raised an eyebrow in his direction as I propped my head against my fist. My father never kept a harem. It was an honor that was reserved for a sultan and not a pasha, he’d explained. Though I always had the sneaking suspicion that my mother’s northern ways influenced his refusal to take a harem more than anything else.
It seemed that Hosmunt had started that practice again.
“Pretty thing from a village a few days’ ride west of here. Young but with wide hips. The likelihood that she’ll carry and carry well is high. I plan to test that theory tonight, if you grasp my meaning.” Hosmunt winked as he rubbed his hands together in excitement, and I couldn’t help the slight curl of my lip. I understood the significance and importance of harems throughout our history, but the way he spoke about the girl was predatory at best.
I hastily changed the subject as platters of meats and cheeses, flatbreads and olives, vegetables and rice pilaf were placed in the middle of the sofra. Two eunuchs set bowls of steaming lentil soup in front of Hosmunt and I. Immediately, the Chief Vizier grabbed his spoon, ladling a healthy serving into his mouth with a loud slurp.
Clearly, a title couldn’t grant class.
I spooned a smaller serving into my own mouth, nearly groaning as the earthy taste of lentils exploded across my tongue. The flavor reminded me of my childhood, when I shared bowls of this exact dish with my mother and father, and I quickly devoured the entire serving, relishing in the taste of onions and carrots, potatoes, and the hint of mint that made this soup so special.
“They don’t make food like this anywhere else, do they?” Hosmunt laughed heartily as he reached for the rice and meat, serving himself before his guest and the sitting Prince of Iluul.
It rankled me.
Not that I felt I deserved to be served first or was entitled to anything that came with my honorific. No, it felt more like Hosmunt wanted to pick and choose which of our customs he followed, depending on which served him best.
He wanted to be Sultan and have a harem, but didn’t feel the need to abide by the small details. It was those, however, that I found to have the most impact on a ruler’s legacy.
I smiled slightly at the remembrance of my father’s advice regarding the Chief Vizier.
It seemed I really needed to play into his desire for legacy in Iluul; thankfully, I was still holding the key to his hopes and dreams.
Dinner passed in relative silence, and I took the time to gorge myself more than usual on the southern delicacies. Only Fate knew the next time I would have the opportunity to eat food from my homeland again.
Periodically, Hosmunt filled the silence with tales of his exploits and adventures, each story more outlandish than the next in an effort to make himself seem powerful. I simply smiled and nodded through his stories, laughing internally at his desire to outshine me.
To read the biographies and books that will come from his reign.
I huffed a laugh at the thought of scholars thousands of years from now trying to separate fact from fiction.
Once the meal was finished and our dessert of fruits and nuts was served, Hosmunt stretched with a groan before fixing me with an assessing look.
“You forwent the traditional kaftan tonight, I see,” he remarked lightly, popping a nut into his mouth and chewing loudly.
Was there anything worse than someone who chewed with their mouth open?
I thought not.
“Anyone who is worth anything already knows who I am,” I said simply, cutting a piece of fruit before chewing. I glanced up from my plate in time to see the muscle in Hosmunt’s jaw flex and jump as he ground his molars together.
“Are you threatening me in my own home,Prince?” He spat the title like it was something dirty, like it wasn’t what he lusted after.
Nonplussed, I shook my head. “No. You would know if I was threatening you,” I said simply, cutting yet another piece of fruit. My indifference and nonchalance seemed to enrage him further. I would gleefully eat more fruit than I ever had in my lifetime if it meant seeing the Chief Vizier spiral in such a way.
“Good,” he ground out, tossing the remaining nuts to the sofra. “Because I needn’t remind you that my janissaries—men loyal tomeandnotthe fallen prince—are standing guard just there.” He flung his arm toward the doorway, the sleeve of his kaftan swinging with the motion.
I let my eyes follow, unsurprised to see the janissaries flexing their fingers while reaching for the pommels of their swords.
“I have no doubt those are your men. It’s important to have loyalty in those we keep close, wouldn’t you agree?” I asked, stuffing a third piece of fruit in my mouth. It was smaller this time, because if I continued eating this way, I was certain to burst. The belt on my trousers pushed painfully against my abdomen as it was.
Damn northern pants.
Hosmunt’s arm dropped as he furrowed his thick brow. “Obviously.”
“And howloyaldo you think Solace will be to you, hmm? How much are you willing to sacrifice on that gamble?”
