Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1)(46)



“My first lover was thirteen years older than me and the most famous courtesan in all of Bast-Haradis. My father felt if anyone was to teach his sons the skills of the bedchamber, it should be someone well known for them.” Ildiko halted, and Brishen tapped the back of her hand to continue. “You asked,” he said.

Ildiko wasn’t shocked by his revelation and in many ways understood Djedor’s logic. She twirled strands of Brishen’s hair around her finger, let it unspool and twirled it again. “I should have hired myself a courtesan,” she mused. Men, as well as women, sold their favors in Pricid’s flesh markets. Though how she might have sneaked one into the palace was another subject altogether.

Brishen startled beneath her hand, and he sat up clumsily, half swaddled as he was in blankets and sheets. He gaped at Ildiko. “You are an odd creature,” he finally said.

She wished for a lit candle so she might better see him in the slowly darkening room. “You’ll adjust,” she said in her sweetest voice and promptly swatted him with a stray pillow.

He toppled to the side only to spring up, a matching pillow in his hands. “That is a declaration of war, Ildiko.”

“Of course it is.” She took another swing at him with her pillow only to be interrupted by a pounding at the door.

Instead of his servant’s voice as she expected, Brishen’s steward called from the other side. “Your Highness, the constable from Halmatus township has arrived and seeks an audience.”

Brishen’s shoulders drooped, and he dropped his pillow with a sigh. “I’ve not wasted my hours here with you, wife, but I’ve matters to attend to, and no one waits at the leisure of a lowly prince who isn’t the heir apparent.”

Ildiko shared his disappointment. She had a task list longer than her arm to take care of herself, but it didn’t lessen her regret at having to end these moments with Brishen. She knee-walked across the bed to him and slid her arms around his neck. “I owe you a hair-brushing,” she said.

He enclosed her in a loose embrace. “You do. I’ll collect later. Count on it.” He kissed her forehead and lowered his arms. “Off with you. With any luck, we can share lunch.”

She left him for her room, giving him a last glance and nod as he watched her leave from his spot in the middle of the rumpled bed. Her ear still tingled where he’d kissed her, and her back felt feverish at the memory of his touch.

Anhuset’s quick tap on her shoulder brought Ildiko back to the present and the reality of horses, torchlight and Kai fighters trying to kill each other on a dusty training field.

“Highness, do you want someone to summon him?” Anhuset nodded at Brishen still locked in martial embrace with his opponent.

Ildiko flinched, barely able to watch. Someone was going to end up with a broken neck or broken something before this was done. “No,” she said. “Let’s leave. I don’t want to distract him, and I’ll see him soon enough at the house.” She turned her horse amidst the soldiers who accompanied them to the dye house. They followed her but stopped when she held up a hand. “Stay if you wish. We’re within the redoubt. I don’t need an escort.”

She nudged her mount into a trot, Anhuset riding beside her. They weren’t far from the iron gates that opened to a manicured loggia and more orderly landscape. A flash of motion teased the corner of her eye. Ildiko turned in time to see Anhuset draw her sword, utter a swear word and resheathe the weapon.

Brishen loped toward them, long legs flexing as he cut across their path. Ildiko had barely slowed her horse when he caught up, grasped her saddle pommel and landed behind her in a smooth, running mount.

“That is the worst display of showing off I’ve ever seen,” Anhuset said in forbidding tones.

“Of course it is.” Brishen wrapped an arm around Ildiko’s waist and pressed himself against her back. “I’m trying to impress my wife.”

“I’m very impressed.” Ildiko flashed him a smile over her shoulder.

Brishen’s hands wandered over the folds of her cloak. “Why are you damp? And you smell like salt. Did you fall into a dye vat?”

“Dived in is more like it,” Anhuset volunteered in cheery tones.

Ildiko narrowed her eyes. “You can leave now, sha-Anhuset. I’m sure Brishen can get me safely to the front door in the next fifteen steps by himself.”

Anhuset’s unrepentant cackle echoed in the night air as she saluted and wheeled her horse back toward the outer redoubt.

Ildiko guided her horse to a waiting groom. Brishen dismounted first, and Ildiko waved away his offer to help her down. She was perfectly capable of climbing off her own horse.

Hoping to delay her confession and avoid showing off her new skin color to Brishen, she asked him about his wrestling bout. “Did you win?”

“No. Nefiritsen is my best wrestler. He remains unbeaten in all matches so far. If any of us must face an enemy in unarmed combat, we want him beside us.”

They entered the castle, passed through the great hall and climbed one of the two stairwells that flanked either side of the high-ceilinged chamber. Candlelight lit their way down the corridor. Ildiko didn’t stumble around in the dark as often these days, but she was glad for the candles and their anemic luminescence.

She stopped in front of her door, turned to face Brishen, and adopted what she hoped was a nonchalant expression, especially when he was standing before her half naked. She tried not to let her avid gaze linger on him too long. “You’ll want a bath I’m sure. I’ll meet you later for a meal or some wine?”

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