This Woven Kingdom(This Woven Kingdom #1)(50)
“You don’t mind if I ring for tea, do you? I’m quite parched.” Kamran pulled the bell without waiting for a response, and his minister sputtered at the impertinence.
“You ring for tea? Now?” Hazan had gone rigid with anger. “I’m of a mind to snap your neck, sire.”
“You lack the heart to snap my neck, Hazan. Do not pretend otherwise.”
“You underestimate me, then.”
“No, Minister. I only know that, deep down, you thoroughly enjoy your position, and I daresay you can’t imagine your life without me.”
“You are deluded, Your Highness. I imagine my life without you all the time.”
Kamran raised his eyebrows. “But you do not deny that you enjoy your position.”
There was a brief, taut silence before Hazan sighed, reluctantly. The sound severed the tension between them, but was chased quickly by an epithet.
“Come now, Hazan,” the prince was saying. “Surely you can see the logic in my arguments. Those men are idiots. Tulan will come for all our throats soon enough, and then they will see, too late, how blind they’ve been.”
Hazan shook his head. “These idiots, as you call them, make up the necessary framework of your empire. They’ve been loyal to Ardunia since before you were born. They know more about your own history than you do, and they deserve your basic respect—”
There was a sharp knock at the door, and Hazan halted his speech to answer it, intercepting the tea tray before the servant could enter the room. He kicked the door shut, placed the tray down on a nearby table, poured them both a cup, and said—
“Go on, then. I believe I was in the middle of making an excellent point, and you were just about to interrupt me.”
Kamran laughed, took a quick sip of tea, and promptly swore out loud. “Why is this tea so hot?”
“Apologies, sire. I’d always hoped that one day your tongue might be irreparably damaged. I see now that my prayers were answered.”
“Good God, Hazan, you should be shot.” The prince shook his head as he placed the teacup on a low table. “Pray tell me,” he said, turning to face his minister. “Tell me why—why am I considered the fool when I am in fact the sole voice of reason?”
“You are a fool, sire, because you act like a fool,” Hazan said impassively. “You know better than to insult your peers and subordinates in the pursuit of progress. Even if you make a good point, this is not how it’s done. Nor is this the time to court enemies in your own house.”
“Yes, but is there ever a time for that? Later, perhaps? Tomorrow? Would you make the appointment?”
Hazan threw back the last of his tea. “You are acting the part of a ridiculous, spoiled prince. I cannot countenance your recklessness.”
“Oh, leave me be.”
“How can I? I expect more from you, sire.”
“No doubt that was your first mistake.”
“You think I don’t know why you pick fights today? I do. You sulk because the king intends to host a ball in your honor, because he has bade you choose a wife from a bevy of beautiful, accomplished, intelligent women—and you would much rather take up with the one destined to kill him.” Hazan shook his head. “Oh, how you suffer.”
Kamran had reached for the teapot and froze now mid-movement. “Minister, do you mock me?”
“I’m only making the evident observation.”
Kamran straightened, the tea forgotten. “And yet the observation that is so evident to you renders me, in the same breath, an insensate human being. Tell me: do you think me incapable of suffering? Am I so unworthy of the experience?”
“With all due respect, sire, I don’t believe you know what it is to suffer.”
“Indeed?” Kamran sat back. “What sage wisdom from my minister. You’ve been inside my mind, have you? You’ve taken a tour of my soul?”
“Enough of this,” Hazan said quietly. He would no longer look at the prince. “You are being absurd.”
“Absurd?” Kamran said, picking up his glass. “You think me absurd? A girl is going to die tonight, Hazan, and her death was provoked by my own arrogance.”
“Spoken like a vainglorious fool.”
Kamran smiled, but it was a tortured expression. “And yet? Is it not true? That I was so determined to doubt a poor servant girl? That I thought her so incapable of such basic decency as to show mercy to a hungry child that I had her hunted, her blood dissected?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Hazan said, but Kamran could tell his heart wasn’t in it. “You know it is more than that. You know it is about far more than you.”
Kamran shook his head.
“I have sentenced her to death, Hazan, and you know that is true. It’s why you were loath to tell me who she was that night. You knew even then what I had wrought.”
“Yes. That.” Hazan dragged a hand down his face. He looked tired suddenly. “And then I saw you with her, in the street that night. You miserable liar.”
Kamran lifted his head slowly. He felt his pulse pick up.
“Oh yes,” Hazan said quietly. “Or did you think me so incapable of finding you in a rainstorm? I am not blind, am I? Neither am I deaf, unfortunately.”
“How very accomplished you are,” Kamran said softly. “I admit I had no idea my minister aspired to the stage. I suspect you’ll be changing careers imminently.”