Page 28 of The King's Menagerie

"I get the distinct feeling you know more about them than me."

Ashel laughed. "Only educated guesses. May I?" he added, gesturing to the cases.

"As it pleases."

There were two of them now, the second having appeared like the previous two gifts. He should have expected it, but the cuffs had already seemed far too extravagant and bold…

He was definitely going to have some words with Lord Nadir about his mischievous behavior if this night ended the way he fervently hoped it would.

"My, oh my," Ashel said as he flipped open the case that held the cuffs. "Exquisite work. I haven't seen these in many years. Purchased by King Malak for his final concubine."

Berkant frowned in thought, mind dredging up old stories of dead kings. "The one who was his best friend and left for many years, who refused the first time he was asked but agreed the second?"

"That's the one," Ashel said. "The goldsmith who made these is still in business; one of the oldest shops in the city. I work with them often. A fine gift, but of course, I'd expect no less." He smirked briefly before opening the second box, gasping faintly as he took in the contents. "This did not come from the royal vaults."

Berkant had a feeling that was the case; the design was simply too specific, too clearly intended forhim.

It was a collar necklace, meant to fit snugly, the front fitted with a golden jackal head with sapphires for eyes. Not just extravagant, but possessive.Mine. I claimed the Jackal, the necklace said.

Or maybe Berkant was a fool and only seeing what he wanted. Only time would tell, and that time was nigh.

"Here, permit me to assist," Ashel replied. He affixed the cuffs first, one to each wrist and upper arm. They were snug without being tight, sure to stay in place during the match. The idea of wearing jewelry in a fight railed against everything in Berkant, but thiswasn'ta fight. It was a show. No, not even that. It was a…bid…a plea.See me. Claim me. I want to be yours as I've been no one else's. Parvaneh had been his partner, his equal. Berkant and Shafiq would never be equals, and he didn't want them to be.

"Bend down a bit," Ashel said with a laugh. "You tall people forget the rest of us can't reach as far as you."

"Sorry," Berkant replied with a smile, and dutifully lowered himself enough that Ashel was able to affix the collar, which locked into place in a way that would require help in removing. Definitely the sort of jewelry that saidmine.

He just had to hope Shafiq wanted all that Berkant was offering. If he didn't… well, he would deal with that moment when it came.

A bell chimed, signaling the end of the current performance.

"Your turn," Ashel said, and gripped his forearms, smiling. "Divine guide and protect. I hope the performance goes well, and you get all you deserve and desire."

"Thank you," Berkant replied, the words barely more than a whisper.

Leaving the dressing chamber, he waited in front of the banquet hall doors, smiling and nodding as Jorin came to stand at his side.

"Nice jewelry," Jorin said with a grin.

"Does everyone in this place know something I don't?" Berkant asked.

Jorin just laughed, and then the doors were opened, and the exhibition match was announced. Berkant was taken aback and yet completely unsurprised by the noise that rose with the calling of his name. His eyes, though, were only for Shafiq, who regarded him with an intensity that left Berkant struggling to breathe.

There was sorrow in his eyes too, though, held back only by years of training and practice. This was, after all, a surprise commemoration for the late queen.

Berkant took his corner and assumed his start position, giving the barest nod to Jorin across the way.

Then the gong rang out, thrumming in his chest, and Berkant was moving. High swing, low swing, block, match. Spin kick, dodge, high kick. Backflip. Drop kick. Blow after blow, swing after kick, one fluid movement after another, everything he used to be and so much more. It might be fun, some time, to spar properly with Jorin. Others, if that was something he'd be permitted to do. For all he was as Tavamaran as they came, he didn't actually know most of the customs and rules surrounding the concubines.

The match finished, the gong sounded, and Berkant dropped to his knees, chest heaving with exertion. He placed his hands on the mat and bowed low, temple to the floor, until that beautiful voice he'd been aching to hear said, "Rise, please."

Berkant and Jorin stood as one, keeping their heads bowed.

"Please, look up," Shafiq said, and smiled when they did so. "Your performance was magnificent. My wife would have been overcome with joy to see such skill. I am honored you would do this for me. Thank you. I would reward you both with whatever you desire. Think on it and see me in the morning with your wish. Nadir."

Rising gracefully from his place at Shafiq's side, Nadir crossed the room to join them, a servant following with a tray of wine. He poured first for Jorin, and said, "Congratulations on a job well done, Master Jorin," as he offered a measure of wine for Jorin to drink.

He turned to Berkant and offered up a new cup of wine, saying softly, "A beautiful performance, Master Jackal."

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