Page 130 of The King's Menagerie

She waved her hand at a troupe standing nearby. "They know just about everything. Tell them and let's begin."

Jankin considered his options and approached the musicians with a fairly common Rittuen piece, something he'd heard played just about everywhere. They smiled and nodded, and Jankin took up position where Dali indicated.

As he had in the square, he danced his best. He didn't know how to do anything else. This piece was less energetic than the dance in the square, which had been about being colorful and loud, catching attention in a place already overflowing withnoise and color, standing out in a place where everyone else was striving to do the exact same thing.

This dance was far more technical, displaying skill and discipline, all that he was capable of, that he had mastered over a lifetime of dedication.

When he finished and bowed, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected applause, rising to full height to see that the rest of the room had stopped to watch him. In a room of performers, he'd captured their attention. That was certainly pleasing to his ego.

"Well, my lord, you did not lie," Dali said. "For once in your life."

Naheed grinned mischievously. "I have my moments, mistress. So you'll find a place for him?"

"Of course. Master Jankin, I will send word when I have you on the schedule. If you'll come by later this afternoon, we can schedule your practice times."

Jankin bowed again. "I am honored, Mistress. Thank you."

Dismissed, he left Dali and Naheed chatting. Could he find his way back to his room himself? How much of the palace could he explore before he accidentally went somewhere he shouldn't? What would happen to him if he did? To judge by the imposing, nigh on ominous looking guards posted at regular intervals along practically every single wall, he didn't want to find out.

Eventually, he found his way to a beautiful chamber, a perfect circle with an enormous statue of a handsome, regal woman adorned in colorful clothes and glittering jewels. Around her was a large pool divided into four quarters, the space between them made into walking paths so one could go right up to the statue. There were plants everywhere: around the statue, framing the pools, trailing down the walls, along the edge of thecircle… The water made the room cool, cooler than the rest of the palace he'd seen so far, and the ceiling above had colorful glass panels that cast splashes of rainbow about.

Taking a bench, he sat to rest and simply admire. One entrance led to the palace, and the other seemed to lead out to gardens or something. So different from other places he'd been, where any entrance was staunchly guarded, and very limited sections were open to the public, the rest blocked off and trespassers not treated kindly.

Resting his head against the wall, he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the breeze, the gentle trickling of water, the fresh scent of plants and flowers.

A deep voice that sent shivers down his spine. What.

Jankin opened his eyes and swept the room—and froze, breath catching in his throat. Well, then. What a sight to behold.

The man was enormous, an absolutewallof beautifully sculpted muscle and gold-toned skin. His hair was braided, stopping just between his shoulder blades, and there was a thick, heavy collar around his throat that suited him perfectly and invited all manner of illicit thoughts. There were cuffs at his wrists as well, and a gold chain looped around his hips. He wore black pants overlaid with a black skirt that was slit all the way to the hips. He was also bare-chested.

This was one of the famed royal concubines. Mercy. No wonder everyone talked about them so much.

He must be the one they'd called the Jackal, the one who used to be a fighter or something. He certainly looked it.

Currently, the man was speaking with a couple of people that seemed to be nobility. Around him, protective and ominous, were royal guards. Bodyguards? That made sense. Even leaving aside how beautiful the man was, how beautiful all the concubines must be, it was their access to the king that put them in the most danger. They had information that people could onlydream of accessing, not to mention that as someone important to the king, they were also a weakness to use against him.

Must be difficult, to live knowing at any moment you could be kidnapped or killed just for the sake of hurting someone else.

Jankin closed his eyes again, going back to relaxing, until the voices moved on and all was quiet again. Then he stood, stretched, and carried on with his explorations, taking the path into the gardens.

They were extraordinary, lush and colorful, so vibrant with flowers and plants, birds and insects, water running and trickling everywhere, such a stark difference from the endless sands that Tavamara was famed for. He saw more than a few flowers that were from Rittu, including several colors of hibiscus.

Including his favorite, a rare type that was blue with green and white streaks, called a peacock hibiscus. He reached out to gently touch the underside of one petal with the side of one curled finger. Back in Rittu, he'd often worn them while he danced.

Smiling softly, he let the flowers be and carried on further into the gardens. People milled about everywhere, some walking like him, others standing in little groups, still others seated on benches. This was clearly a popular part of the palace, but why wouldn't it be? If there was anything that spoke to true luxury, it was all this vibrant growth and color.

Eventually, he came to a section of wall with guards posted all along its length. Not a back wall, he didn't think, he was good with directions, and this wall wasn't in the right place for that. No, this was blocking off a section of the palace. Restricted to certain nobility? More likely royalty. It would make sense the royal family had their own gardens, where they couldrelax in safety, rather than these more public gardens where they'd always be in danger—and also never really left alone.

When he'd finished his tour of the gardens, he made his way slowly back to his room, stopping only to ask a servant how he went about getting food and drink. Thankfully, the woman was kind enough to show him to the dining hall where staff and visitors like him ate.

Jankin thanked her, then went to stand in line, and in a short time had a tray of food and drink that made his growling stomach quite happy.

He hadn't gotten through even half of it, though, when a harried looking young woman came rushing up to him. "My pardon, sir, but are you Master Jankin?"

"Yes, I am…"

"Pardon, pardon, but Mistress Dali requires you immediately in the practice hall."

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