Page 29 of A Filling of Fables and Firelight

She left without further argument, though Kamaran held his breath until she was fully out of the room and Jasper shut the door after her. He exhaled heavily in relief. “You have impeccable timing.” He ran a hand down the side of his face. “How is she still here?”

“As I said before, Your Majesty, she knows how to play the game.” Zamar pulled a tall-backed chair over and sat beside the bed.

Kamaran frowned. “Wasn’t the last challenge supposed to be testing how well they could relate to and understand the general public? There’s no way she could have performed well; the last time I saw her, she was in a shouting match with a fruit seller.”

“But overall, her scores have been high, and she’s managed to make herself rather a favorite with the judges.”

“That’s hardly fair to the others.”

The vizier shrugged. “The other women have had the same opportunities to win the judges over. Yasmin is simply using all of the tools at her disposal to ensure that she wins.”

Cold horror filled him at the realization that Yasmin as the winner was suddenly a very real possibility. “You can’t expect me to marry her.”

Zamar smiled sympathetically. “It doesn’t matter what I expect. The rules of the Queen’s Contest are set by tradition. The winner is your bride.”

“Can’t we…have a different challenge?” Kamaran shoved a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. “Ask them to sew a dress or knit a cap for Spot or…something else with needles.”

Jasper snorted, reminding him that the page was within earshot and privy to their entire conversation.

“I’m afraid the challenges have already been determined.” Zamar eyed him curiously. “Those requests seem quite…specific. Am I correct in assuming that you’ve finally chosen a favorite?”

“It hardly matters,” he grumbled as he sank back into the pillows. “I haven’t seen Rana since before the marketplace, and even then, we didn’t part on the best of terms. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn she’s decided she hates me again.”

“Again?” Zamar lifted a quizzical brow.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Jasper announced confidently, inserting himself into their dialogue. “In fact, I have three new pairs of pants to prove it.” He paused, adding explanation a moment later in response to their looks of confusion. “She sews much faster when she’s stressed.”

Kamaran’s hands fisted the blanket on either side of his legs, and he narrowed his eyes. A voice in the back of his mind lectured that it was silly to be jealous, that there was no reason to view the gangly sixteen-year-old as a threat, but the hot, sharp emotion wouldn’t be reasoned with. “Why is she making you pants? How does she know you?”

“She’s friends with my sister-in-law.” The page looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. “Aida and Rana have known one another for years.”

Mollified, Kamaran released the tension that he had been holding. “She doesn’t hate me,” he said on an exhale.

“Nope,” Jasper affirmed, popping the p. “Not only does she not hate you, but she’s been asking about you every time I see her. The only reason she hasn’t been in to see you is that she was afraid that you wouldn’t want to see her.” He shook his head. “The two of you really don’t know how to communicate very well, do you?”

Kamaran laughed, feeling lighter and more hopeful than he had in nearly a week. “Evidently not.” Spurred by the sudden need to see Rana’s face, he slowly began swiveling his legs over the side of the bed.

Zamar cleared his throat. “As enlightening and undoubtedly important as this conversation is, I do need a moment of your time before you attempt to run off, Your Majesty.” He handed over a stack of papers.

He sighed and pulled his legs back in. Though he had been ready just a few moments before to push himself out of bed and traverse the palace in search of Rana, the idea of sitting with his chief vizier while putting on his usual act of attempting to decipher the unreliable markings while pretending that absolutely nothing was amiss filled him with sudden exhaustion. “Of course.”

Zamar regarded him with surprise. “Are you sure you’re feeling well, Your Majesty?”

“Now you ask? Shouldn’t that have happened before you shoved work in my face?”

“We were expecting to need to use manipulation and bribery,” Jasper offered.

Zamar sent the boy a warning glare before turning back to Kamaran and adding, “The sudden capitulation is unlike you.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, well. Rana seems to think that I shirk far too many of my duties.”

“I see.” His vizier’s face was a bland, emotionless mask. “And you’re trying to prove her wrong?”

“I’m trying not to be a lizard.”

I’ll never truly be worthy of my title—I’m far too stupid for that—but at least I can say I’m trying.

“I beg your pardon?”