Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1)(55)
Brishen bared his teeth at her. “Don’t you have something to do other than vex me?”
She shrugged, unconcerned by his forbidding mood. “Not nearly as much as you do and more time to do it. The Beladine lord is due to arrive. The manor is in an uproar preparing for his visit.”
He groaned and raked his hands through his hair. “Poor timing,” he muttered to himself. He pointed a finger at Anhuset. “I’m not looking for your agreement.” She and Etep followed him into the chamber when he trekked back to the bed and pulled on the thin trousers he’d discarded earlier. Ildiko’s nightrail was gone, vanished like its owner. “Where is Ildiko?”
“Unlike you, your hercegesé is awake, dressed, and elbow-deep in supervising the preparations for your guests. And here I thought humans weaker than the Kai.” She flashed him a fanged grin, her eyes sparking bright with amusement.
Brishen growled. His cousin reveled in her chance to flense him with her mockery and draw a little blood—revenge for him ordering her to attend tonight’s dinner and the dancing that followed. He allowed her the indulgence, too tired and sated to do more than shoo her off with a flick of his hand and a sour “Go away before I have you flogged.” Her laughter drifted to him, even after she and Etep left his room, closing the door behind them.
He wasn’t alone long. Etep reappeared, leading a parade of servants carrying buckets of water to fill the bathing tub in the corner. One built the fire in the hearth. The servant bowed to his master. “A cold water bath tonight, Herceges. We don’t have time to heat that much water.”
Brishen shrugged. He lost count of the number of dousings he’d had in the icy waters of a lake or mountain stream. He’d save the hot water bath for a more leisurely time when he didn’t have to rush and Ildiko could share with him. The images of such a scenario banished the sleepy fog shrouding his mind. He stripped and hopped into the tub, allowing himself one hard shiver before submerging in the cold water to scrub himself clean.
In less than an hour he was dried, dressed and headed to the great hall. His chest swelled with pride at the sight. His servants had outdone themselves and brought Saggara’s great hall back to the days when it was the summer palace of a Kai king. More torches were lit for the benefit of their human guests and the trestle tables draped in embroidered cloths dyed in jeweled shades of cerulean and crimson, nettle-green and aubergine, and the coveted amaranthine that was the greatest source of his people’s wealth. The tables were set with the costly ceramics carried over the mountains via caravan and goblets made of silver mined out of the Serpent’s Teeth hills far to the south.
Not a speck of dust dared to collect in the corners, and the tapestries hanging on the walls had been taken down, beaten clean and rehung to tell their stories of an ancient past—Kai battles won and magic unleashed.
The scents drifting from the kitchens made Brishen’s empty stomach rumble and his mouth water. He had no idea what the cooks would serve. Though she was human in a Kai household, its maintenance and organization was Ildiko’s domain. He knew his place in the order of things, and in this, his only requirement were to stay out of the way, praise her efforts and show up on time to eat the food she ordered prepared. He only prayed she didn’t order potatoes.
His steward approached him. Mesumenes was Saggara’s steward long before Djedor gave it to Brishen. He knew it better than anyone—every stone, every corner, every roof tile. Loyal to the estate more than to any of its owners, he had patiently mentored Brishen into becoming a capable overlord and did the same for Ildiko when she arrived as its new mistress. He bowed. “Does this meet with your approval, Your Highness?”
Brishen nodded and clapped Mesumenes on the back. “Very much so. You and the servants have outdone yourselves.”
“The hercegesé’s hand is in this as well. She knew what would please and impress humans.”
Brishen complimented Mesumenes a second time and continued his tour of the manor. There were many, many benefits to having a human wife, or at least his human wife. He would thank her for her insight when he saw her. If he managed not to lift her skirts while he did so, it would be a testament to his control. His need for her ran like molten streams just under his skin. His cold bath had dampened his ardor only so long. He missed her and wanted her in his bed once more—preferably now.
It wasn’t to be, and he distracted himself by inspecting the bailey and training yard and ignoring Anhuset’s snide comments when he came across her saddling her horse in preparation to ride out and meet the Beladine party at the entrance to the estate road.
She wore ceremonial military leathers and beneath those a pearl colored tunic over teal trousers spun of silk. Brishen wondered how many times she cursed him while dressed in the formal clothing reserved for court and which she hated.
He twisted the knife. “You look beautiful.”
Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. Brishen kept his gaze on her dagger which she toyed with at her waist. “I don’t understand why I have to attend this thing. It’s a dinner with a Beladine warlord. More court maneuverings and double talk with sly innuendo and hidden meaning. Ask me to meet him in battle, and I will happily comply. This though...I hate this.”
Brishen sympathized with his cousin’s sentiment. He wasn’t fond of such gatherings either, but they weren’t at court. And while Serovek’s loyalty lay with a kingdom displeased with the Kai at the moment, he had always been a friend to Brishen. Until they met on a battlefield—and he prayed that would never come to pass—they would invite each other to dinner, socialize and trade valuable information no spy could ever retrieve from bribed sources.