15
Her captor knew too much. Jza could not deny that extended time in his company was making her foolish. She was saying too much. Maybe that was why he had managed to retain the crown when his blood was not even pure. Instead of forcing her to reveal anything about herself he was clearly using a gentler technique which was obviously working.
But was she not privy to information no one else in her kingdom knew? The exchange of knowledge between them was equal in that sense at least. His questionable family history was almost in her grasp. While the titbits of knowledge he fed her were not enough she knew his biggest weakness. His mother. While he knew not who her father was she knew who his mother was. She vowed to find more books pertaining to his history from his Somerluin side of the family tree.
Jza blew out the candle on her bedside. In the dark her mind wandered to the memory of his eyes on her. Her hands shook as she grabbed her silk sheets closer to her. Her heart beat once again deafened her. It was a wonder it did not echo in the high ceilings of the room.
The look in his eyes had petrified her more than anything she had ever endured in his capture. He had never given her such a transparent look of longing. His eyes were usually veiled as much as his tongue so she never could gauge what he thought of her other than overt displays of disdain. Today had been different. She did not know if she could look him in the eyes again.
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The next day started without incident. The weakness in her limbs was minimal enough to be an afterthought. Jza dressed in her most staid, grey outfit and pulled her brown hair up plainly much to her maid's exclamations of nyet nyet. She was sure whatever he saw in her could be hidden behind ugly clothing. The bruises that hid her face were disappearing much to her woe. As much as the pain hurt her they had their use.
In the gigantic library she started her search while her maid stared at her nails. The books about Somerluins were scattered all over the library. There was a reason it had taken her weeks to find information about the Barbarians. Nothing was in any sort of order about this subject. The books had been squashed inside whatever space the soldiers could find on the shelves. She found a number of books she dared not bring to her desk. She placed them together on one shelf and brought the one without a distinct cover out in the open.
She settle herself against a pillar on the cold stone floor with her dress spread around her and started her study with a quick look around. Her maid was still engrossed in her own thoughts and no one else observed her.
The book was unusually dry. There was no mention of any royal murders or any intrigue of any sort. Just a scattering of dates. Jza mentally chided her father's librarian for keeping such bare bones of information on what was now an important state. She was sure there was information in the other books but she needed time to search without making anyone suspicious.
She quickly found the name of Somerluin king before Tarquin. Lord Ivan. She skimmed over his life and paused over Lord Tarquin's birth announcement. His mother's name was Altani. She raced past his life and found the entry she was looking for. The year and month the seventeen year old Tarquin murdered Ivan.
She saw the dates and her puzzlement increased manifold.
Lord Ivan had married the Barbarian Princess Altani the day he had died. That very day Tarquin had been proclaimed the new Lord. The crowning ceremony King Samuel had attended happened months later when the blood on the throne had long been washed away. The implications were all too clear. His mother had been a married woman for only a few hours before her son had killed his father, her husband.
Jza set her book down in confusion on her lap. Why had Lord Ivan, a man of advanced years, married anyone when he had never shown the inclination earlier and much less to a woman from his Harem. The Somerluins did not believe the woman of the Harem deserved the respect of marriage. Did he want to finally legitimise his heir so he could pass the kingdom onto him? If Tarquin would have gotten the throne as it is why did he need to resort to patricide?
She turned to the book and flipped back the pages to see why a Barbarian Princess was in the Harem in the first place. Jza's own ancestors had displaced the Barbarians from the land so they must have tried to settle in the neighbouring countries. She found the dates to a Barbarian treaty and months later to a public execution. She suddenly understood why Tarquin had mentioned broken treaties and stolen women when explaining the existence of the Harem. His mother was one of the captives of King Ivan.
Melancholy overtook her. It was not difficult to see the parallels of her situation but that was not what disturbed her. Her situation was not even close to being as traumatising as this Barbarian Princess' looking for a fresh start in a new country.
The brown haired girl broke her gaze from her book feeling like she was being watched. Her captor was standing in the middle of the room. How he had managed to walk on the cobbled floor without making a sound was beyond her.
His amber eyes this time around were more focused on her outfit. He rolled his eyes and gave her a hand. She took it without pause since it had been infinitely unwise to sit on the floor when her limbs were still sore. She felt the scar she had left on him. The sign she had injured him and left a mark gave her a strange sort of thrill. Was this the feeling successful warriors felt slaying their prey.
"We have work to do," Lord Tarquin informed her and walked briskly out of the room, letting her follow him. His clean shaven face held no signs of last night. He had barely looked at her while her eyes were fixed on his profile. For a moment she wondered if she had dreamed it all but no she knew something had happened.
She followed him silently and soon realised they were heading towards the ballroom. She was relieved he had meant what he said. They were only meeting to discuss work.
Jza entered the room and her heart escalated beyond her expectations. Scattered along the room was members of the Harem like colourful, murderous peacocks. If there was anyone she wished to never share the room with it was them.
"What is she doing here?" Sofiya snarled in her direction. The Harem would rarely speak her language. They would revert back just to offend her sensibilities just as they did now. Jza felt lucky her sisters were equally as venomous and their words could not hurt her. Their poisons were another matter...
"Wrong. This is a question I should ask you. I don't remember inviting you here."
Jza kept her mouth wisely shut. This time around the tension in the rooms had nothing to do with her. There was already dispute brewing before her arrival. The women had been standing with clenched fists and frowns maring their pretty faces.
"We are your women, Tarquin. We have supported you since you were born. How dare you give this interloper the place we rightfully deserve," A harem girl Jza could not place spat at them.
Tarquin switched to his own language. He clearly had no intention of including Jza in the conversation.
"Is this the payment to all our loyalty. She is as much of a whore as we were. Why are we not included in the ball preparations?"
The Lord's eyes narrowed at her daring but he continued in the language of his father without hesitation. He called Sofiya towards him who obeyed very reluctantly. Her hand movements told Jza she was not about to be pacified anytime soon.
"You cannot have him," Anna hissed near her face before Tarquin could notice her movements. The mint in her breath wafted over Jza's face.
"You can keep him." Jza wrinkled her nose with disgust. Where he spent his nights was none of her concern. The jealousy Anna was showcasing was unnecessary and unwanted.
"You are just like those Goridion Princesses, writing to him, begging him. A traitors to their own country is traitor to us. You will stab him in the back, I just know it," Anna's eyes glistened, anticipating a rebuttal, but Jza was too shocked to respond.
