Kamil shrugged out of his kurta and wrapped the fabric Master Asharan offered around his waist, throwing the end over his shoulder more like a conquering warrior than like a humble monk.
“Softly,” Master Asharan told him, laughing. “Gently. But you have never been meek in your life, have you, Kamil? You should carry Sahar’s basket, and a garland of flowers.”
“You are enjoying this far too much,ya rafiq.”
“Of course I am. You are a treasure of my heart as well, O grumbling one, with how fiercely and devotedly you protect our dear Rahat.”
Kamil’s tailtip twitched in embarrassment, but he couldn’t dignify the rest of that with a response.
Honestly, even the cat-basket and the garland of fragrant jasmine blossoms did very little to soften how much Kamil was clearly both a guardian and a predator. But the shadows and flares dancing their warning puppet-plays at the edges of Rahat’s vision had no brighter paths to suggest than this one.And the laughter he foresaw through the mists came from mischievous children, not scornful courtiers.
“Through Elder Sister’s classroom, out the western door, turn left, and the alley will take you out to the marketplace just south of Padma-auntie’s bakery,” Master Asharan told Kamil, adjusting the drape of his cloth to hide a bit more of his sleekly muscled arms.
Kamil heaved an enormous sigh, and then bowed to Master Asharan surprisingly deeply. “Thank you, by the way. I do thank you for this.”
“For what?”
“For his smiles,” Kamil murmured. “You’re still a kink in my tail, I didnotneed dozens of kittens mobbing him at a moment’s notice, but… thank you for his joy.”
“Oh!” Delighted, Master Asharan flung his arms around Kamil, who yowled his sputtering protests immediately.
“No hugs! Stop that! I’mon duty!”
“Still under my wards!” Master Asharan reminded him, but he let go and smoothed the rumpled cloth back into place.
“Rrrrrrrmph.” Kamil’s chin twitched as though he was desperately fighting the need to lick his shoulder to look around and see if anyone else had witnessed his indignity.
“Well, then. Are you prepared, my jewel?” Master Asharan said to Rahat. “Don’t worry, you’ll be splendid.”
“But this is a walk of shame,” Rahat said, in a small voice. “Isn’t it?”
“This,” Master Asharan told him firmly, “is a walk ofchance. Planting little seeds for the future, letting them take root among the crevices in the paving-stones of the city streets, coming back later to see what wildflowers might have bloomed in the alleys from a rose petal and a smile and a breath of magic. Maybe nothing will come of it save a bit of kitten-petting and a tastefor rosewater. But you have nothing at all to be ashamed of,ya rahati.”
Despite himself, Rahat glanced at Kamil, who had already called it a walk of shame earlier, and who was wearing his most inscrutable face.
“But… imitating a priest of another faith…?” He couldn’t say how impious that felt when he was his brother’s prophet, and when his personal history with Upaja’s Shai Vishal was so… sensitive. As vast as the Empire was, it did not hold an abundance of God-Emperors with other fat human brothers for whom he might be plausibly mistaken. And Master Asharan did not wish to know Rahat’s true name.
“If you were taking alms from the offering-box, that would be shameful, of course!” Master Asharan said. “But what possible harm is to be found in a gentle soul giving flowers and treats to children? It’s just like before, except that you’re wearing a priest’s cloth instead of a bathrobe.”
“You’re certain?”
“Here. Practice.” He knelt to be closer to a kitten’s height and reached up to pat Rahat’s belly, then cupped his hands together to ask, “May I have a treat, Rahat-sahib?”
Shyly, Rahat took one of the sweets from the enchanted pouch and held it to Master Asharan’s lips. He took a bite, and then his eyes startled wide and he put both hands over his mouth.
“Ya majid?”
“Oh,” he said, half laughing, still hiding his face behind both hands. “Oh, that’s so much more revealing than I’d thought.”
“If I shouldn’t?—”
“You absolutely should,” Master Asharan insisted. He took a deep breath to steady himself, smiling up at him with eyes as soft as willow leaves. “This is nothing at all like a walk of shame, my jewel. And that means I have nothing to be ashamed ofeither, when anyone who takes a piece ofrahatfrom your hand knows from the first taste how deeply you are treasured.”
Rahathadto kiss him for that. He couldn’t help it. Master Asharan smiled into the kiss, and yes, it was just as exquisite as any blushing roses.
“Hellfire,” Kamil growled, and held out his hand. “What are you telling half the city about him with these damn sweets?”
Rahat reached for the rose-pouch, and then paused. “You do know how the magic has settled itself, yes?”
