Page 10 of The Prince's Wife

"Wow, they must have hated my mother," Aradishir said with a laugh. "I wish I could have seen their faces."

"If the court artist could have drawn fast enough to capture them, I would have given her every coin to my name, that's for certain," Relanya said with a grin. "Your mother is wonderful, truly. I could see even before I arrived why they call her the Jewel of Tavamara. From what I've heard, you are her protégé."

Aradishir scoffed. "My sister is like her in every way, or near enough. I just take after my mother in charity pursuits and the like, leaving my siblings to their precious politics." And Bakhtiar to finding all the trouble he possibly could, though in begrudging fairness, Bakhtiar excelled at general audience, which he was doing more and more often. He would likely be the one to train Relanya, as when they were king and queen, it would be one of their many shared duties.

She'd be good at it, listening to petitioners, assisting with their problems, treating everyone fairly and, where suited, generously. Aradishir had done it a couple of times, when the others fell sick, but thankfully he was normally put to work elsewhere. The helping people part he enjoyed, but the sitting still for hours on end he did not.

"This is delicious," Relanya said. "What is it?"

"A specialty of Tavala—we call them kuku sabzi. Herb cake is the most common translation. Sometimes it's also called an herb frittata, though I'll be honest, I've no idea what a frittata is." Aradishir replied. "I especially like it with this cheese, made from sheep's milk and brined."

Relanya smiled. "A local delicacy back home is something called Gruzinchiki, a fish roll fried and served with melted butter. Rich and filling, as all cold weather foods must be."

"That would be fun to try sometime," Aradishir replied, and nearly bit his tongue stopping himself from saying perhaps for one of their private meals sometime. There were no private meals forthcoming. Because she wasn't marrying him. Divine he was stupid. "I'm sure we could find a cook who knows how to make it, or someone with knowledge to share with ours."

"That would be nice to do eventually, but for now, I'm certainly happy learning all I can about my new home, including foods I could never have dreamed up on my own. Thank you," she added as Heydar offered her more wine. "So what are we going to…" The words died off as they watched several servants and guards come rushing in, going straight to the open doors and closing them before pulling down an addition cover.

Chapter Four

One of her companions asked, "What's wrong?"

"Sandstorm, I would imagine," Aradishir replied quietly, and looked to Lieutenant Erfan as he came striding in.

"Yes, Your Highnesses. A rather abrupt one. It's come up with little warning. We won't have time to make it back to the palace, not with the chaos in the streets. I did send a runner to inform Their Majesties, though, and we should be more than fine sheltering here."

Relanya's eyes widened. "A sandstorm? Like the one that delayed us before?"

"Worse," Erfan replied. "That one lasted hours. This one… it could last the whole rest of the day and into the night. Hard to say, but it's much worse than the previous."

Aradishir asked, "The restaurant staff? Our people?"

"Many of the staff chose to try and make it home, as they live nearby, but four have remained and all our people are inside." His mouth quirked as he added, "Lucky for all of us, we're in a restaurant and it has a protected water source. Though I suppose we could make do with the wine."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Aradishir replied with a laugh. "I can see the looks on my parents' faces if I returned to the palace heavily drunk, explaining it was absolutely all we had to drink for hours or days."

Erfan's mouth twitched, but he said nothing, only bowed and slipped out of the room, no doubt to check on everyone and get any updates on the storm.

One of Relanya's companions shuddered. "We had to stay on the ship last time, and it was like being back at sea all over again, tossed about by a storm, feeling like we would capsize at any moment."

"Thankfully there is no risk of capsizing here," Heydar replied, and refilled her wine. "Our biggest threat will be boredom, but hopefully with so many of us, that will not happen."

Merza refilled the rest of their wines, and Aradishir smiled, even as the wind kicked up, rattling the closed doors beyond the additional barrier. "Have you heard of the notorious tribes of the Great Desert?"

"Only that the Great Desert is dangerous for many reasons and to be avoided." Relanya made a face. "There are always stories of the wild savages of Tavamara and the Desert, but I find those distasteful. If I recall correctly, you have an uncle who is Prince of the Great Desert[2]?"

"Uncle Sahayl," Aradishir said. "Father had him adopted into the family, which made him a prince, and gave him the authority to unite the tribes once and for all. It's a story fit for a novel. Would you like to hear it?"

"I would love to," Relanya replied, and her handmaidens looked just as excited.

"Father's Steward is from the Desert, you know. The Cobra Tribe. He's quite fierce looking, tattooed all over with snake scales. The story actually begins with him. You would like his wife; she is from Havarin and had a child from her first husband before he died, and she fled here so her son wouldn't be taken from her. It was that boy who became friends with…"

Aradishir told the story avidly, interspersed with anecdotes from Heydar, who knew some of it from his father, and even a few of the guards who had been there when Sahayl first arrived at the palace.

"You weren't kidding," Relanya said when he finished. "That could be turned into the most exciting play!" She smiled softly, something in her eyes making his heart trip over itself. "Of course, some of that is your gift as a storyteller. Giftandskill, I should say, for you've clearly honed what comes naturally to you."

Face hot, feeling suddenly shy, Aradishir looked at the table as he said, "Thank you, Your Highness. That means a lot to me. I like telling stories, but I don't have quite the same vivacity as my siblings."

"I do not believe you," Relanya said. "My son will not stop speaking about the man who found him and brought him back to me, and how he too gives people fits."

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