Page 24 of The Prince's Wife

"It wasn't worth disturbing your sleep," Fahima said as she crossed the room to hug him and kiss his cheek. "Not yet, anyway."

Anxiety so strong he was starting to feel nauseous, Aradishir replied, "What's wrong, Mother?"

"Sit, sit," she said, motioning him to her sitting area, where wine already waited for them. "It's about Princess Relanya."

"I see," Aradishir said quietly. Exactly as he feared, but he couldn't bring himself to admit, just continued to play oblivious. "Is she all right?"

"She was cornered today by several women who didn't like some foreign upstart swooping in to stealtheircrown prince."

Anxiety turned to fury. "What did they do! Who did it? Howdare—"

"Sit down," Fahima said with the barest hint of smile. "All is well, it was grossly inappropriate, but the women have been identified and are currently being punished—severely. Princess Relanya is fine, mostly just hurt that she's being so poorly received." Her mouth tightened. "We knew there would be protests to a foreign princess—one with a child, no less—but we were not expecting this level of backlash. I need the whole family to give full support to her tonight, show the court and everyone else in attendance at dinner that she is one of us, she belongs here, and we all will flourish by her presence. You are closer to her than everyone, even Bakhti right now, so I wanted to speakwith you especially. Much of the court has a soft spot for you, though you never notice, and the more they see you supporting her and this marriage, the more who will change their minds."

This was so very far from what he'd expected, Aradishir didn't know what to say, or even think for that matter. "Of course, Mother. It would be my honor. Her Highness is wonderful, and will make an excellent queen. I'll make them all realize it, no matter what it takes." He didn't wait for Merza to serve him, simply picked up the wine in front of him and tossed it back.

It was going to be an even longer meal than he'd feared, but for Relanya he would do anything and everything. "You're sure she's all right? To have come this far only to be…"

"She is used to this sort of nonsense, believe me," Fahima replied. "She's dealt withworse. Being the widow of a traitor is no easy thing, and she was an outlier in her family to begin with, so being picked on by insecure, petty children masquerading as grown adults is nothing new."

That just made him angrier. Relanya didn't deserve to be treated so, and she certainly didn't deserveto be used to it.She was a princess, and in all the ways that mattered, not simply by birth. He'd make her his princess in a moment, and do and give everything her heart desired, as was proper and right.

But she was meant to be queen, and sheshouldbe queen, and he would make the whole of the court suffer miserably if that was what it took for them to behave.

"Don't make them suffer too much, darling," Fahima said, but there was only affection and approval in her eyes. "Come along, then. Bakhti will be escorting her to dinner, and I want the rest of us there waiting so all eyes are on them." She rose with a grace that could only be envied, never replicated, and Aradishir rose to join her, their harems gathering around them,bodyguards in front and behind as they headed off through the palace to the waiting banquet.

At the banquet table, he took up his usual place directly opposite his parents. He always hated having his back to the room, but there was no helping it, and as the youngest that was his place. Bakhtiar would have his usual place on the side of the table to their father's right, and a space had been set for Relanya to sit there as well, with both of his concubines between them. His sister and her husband would have their usual spot, and the remaining spaces occupied by various concubines. A family dinner and show of support—and force.

It certainly wouldn't hurt people to be reminded that amongst the concubines were: a guard, a thief, an assassin, a pirate, a temple duelist, and—perhaps most notorious of them all—a foreign general who'd chosen their father over becoming royalty himself. In summary, it would be stupid in the extreme to attempt to harm Relanya or anyone else. Far more likely, people would simply make snide remarks and the like, but this would also at least force them to whisper or save their mean words for later.

Servants brought wine, a bit earlier than usual, and nobody else in the hall had been served, but that was precisely the kind of move his mother would make. It was a soft, pale wine, only slightly stronger from the extremely mild ones given to older children to start teaching them how to properly drink wine.

He'd just finished his first cup when voices rose, conversation increasing, a small gong sounding to announce the arrival of the crown prince. Aradishir itched to turn and look, but that would be rude, turning away from the table to gawk. Even if he would happily stare at Relanya all day every day and never grow bored.

Moments later Bakhtiar and Relanya took their seats, and Aradishir smiled warmly in greeting. "Good evening, Your Highness. I am sorry you did not have a very good day."

"It's improved significantly since my unfortunate conversation with some of your noblewomen."

"I'm happy to hear it." The starter wine came then, along with appetizers. When they all had their food and the fresh wine had been served, Relanya said, "How was your day, Your Highness?"

"Fruitful, I may finally be making progress on my battle. Time will tell." As slavery wasn't really a subject for dinner, Aradishir shifted the topic to other subjects, and from there everyone else joined in, keeping the conversation lively and flowing.

As the first course was taken away and the second course brought, fragrant meats, rice, vegetables, and more, Aradishir asked, "Have you arranged a new tour of the city? One that might come with less disruption."

"Disruption?" Bakhtiar asked. "What do you mean?"

Jahanara gave him a look of disbelief. "Did you not hear that assassins attacked them?"

"When exactly would I have heard that?" Bakhtiar asked. "While I was throwing up every ten minutes from food poisoning nobody could pin down? While I was unconscious because the pain in my leg combined with the aforementioned poisoning was making life literally unbearable? Or when I struggled to get back here as soon as possible anyway so nobody was further burdened with my duties?" He clearly had more to say, but bit it back at a look from their mother, scowling at his food instead.

Jahanara looked ashamed. "You're right, I'm sorry, that was stupid."

Bakhtiar nodded tersely. "What happened?"

"They followed us through the city and used a sandstorm to try and get the better of us. Erfan was injured, badly but not severely, and your princess here is far more capable than me in self-defense. She was quite impressive."

"It's standard for most of us who dwell on the ice, as the predators there are few but extremely deadly," Relanya replied. "Your team was most impressive."

"Well, hopefully Bakhti can offer you a quieter tour. You should be certain he takes you to the Grand Theatre. Mother and Father sometimes have the troupe come to perform for us here in the palace, but seeing a play in the theatre proper is always a treat."

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