Page 58 of The King's Menagerie

The guard who'd escorted him went up to Shafiq and knelt to speak low in his ear. Shafiq's smile faded, but he only thanked the guard with a quiet murmur before turning his attention back to Jankin. "I am told Lady Nousha gave you some trouble."

"None at all, really, thanks to your guards. I assume she is related to the man from last night?"

"His wife," Shafiq said. "You should suffer no further problems, and I apologize for that one. She will be held to account for harming you."

"It's nothing I haven't put up with before—one of the risks of being a popular dancer. Slapped, backhanded, punched, and on two occasions, I was beaten badly enough I could not dance for a few weeks." People did not always take well to hearing 'no,' especially from people they considered beneath them. Thankfully, nothing worse than a beating had ever happened. Horror stories abounded about what happened to pretty dancers who said no, but so far he'd escaped that fate.

"No one should be accustomed to such repulsive behavior. Nevermind them, they are not worth the time. Berkant tells me you chose the feather necklace."

"They were all beautiful, but I admit that one called to me especially. You're far too kind, Your Majesty."

Shafiq scoffed. He raised a hand, and a gong sounded to begin the meal. The food served was less extravagant than what he'd seen at dinner, but that made sense for the time and place. Each table was filled to maximum, and there was a low hum of persistent conversation throughout the garden. "Are these luncheons a regular thing?"

"Somewhat regular," Shafiq replied. "I host one every few weeks, save when I'm especially busy or it's simply too hot, since it's exorbitantly expensive for anyone but me to host these larger gatherings within the palace, with the rare exception that's partly funded by the crown, anyway. It's a good chance for lesser known poets, singers, and such to be seen."

"That's kind of you."

Shafiq laughed. "Not really. It all benefits the throne at the end of the day. Drink, drink. The poetry readings will start soon, and they can be…"

"Interesting," Ender drawled.

Jankin smiled after taking the sip of wine Berkant offered up. "I once had to sit through a ballad a man wrote about how terrible his life was since his wife left him and how it was all her fault. I would have liked to hear her version of events. Horrendous poem, everybody in the room was uncomfortable. When it threatened to go into a third part, the prince hosting the dinner finally rang the bell. I'm pretty sure that was turned into a fourth part later."

Ender and Nadir laughed in unison, perfect mirrors of each other, framing their king beautifully. He wanted to hear the tale of how they came to be concubines, for surely such a thing must be extraordinarily rare, and no small scandal.

"They would make for a good ballad," Berkant said, motioning to the twins. "Didn't even know the other existed until last year. Kidnapping, attempted murder…"

"Oh, be quiet," Ender said without heat. "Don't think I was the one who started off under arrest for beating a man nearly to death."

"He deserved it."

Jankin had roughly a thousand questions, but he refused to be a nosy ass. Instead, he said, "When I was in Pelenna, there was a huge scandal about the death of a lord. Everyone thought he'd been killed by making the stupid decision to drink heavily before going frost bear hunting, which is a stupid thing to do when you're sober and in great health. But it turned out he wasn't drunk—he'd been poisoned. I arrived right as they were going around arresting everyone even slightly related to the matter to pin down who the killer or killers were. By the time I left nine months later, they were still sorting the mess out. That was… two or so years ago."

"It was his brother and wife," said a new voice.

Turning slightly to his left, Jankin took in the new person. Pretty, pouty, with a tumble of curls that probably helped him get his way quite a lot, if he was inclined to that sort of brattiness. Which Jankin would not judge him for, unless he was also a selfish brat who made a hobby of hurting people. He'd seen that kind more often than he liked.

"What do you know that we do not, Lord Mazin?" Shafiq asked congenially.

"I have a friend from school, back when I went to Petch to study for a few years, who is from Pelenna and also close friends with someone from the branch family. Lord Igor was the victim, and it was his wife and brother who conspired to poison him because he'd discovered their affair."

"How torrid," Ender said.

Nadir added, "And depressing."

"The way of the nobility," Lord Mazin said. "I see much of it with my family's ties."

"What ties are those, if I may ask."

"Wine," Berkant said, and Mazin nodded in agreement. "Lord Mazin's family is one of the wealthiest and most powerful in the kingdom because they own several wineries and trade companies. A large percentage of the wine going in and out of the country is produced or traded by them."

"Makes sense why you'd see so much," Jankin replied. Where there was alcohol and entitlement, there was always drama.

"Never a dull moment, to be sure," Mazin said. "Your dancing last night was lovely, Master Jankin. I'm sure you hear that often."

"Doesn't mean I get tired of hearing it." Jankin winked. "Thank you, my lord."

The first poetry reading started then, as servants cleared away the first course and brought out fresh wine to bridge the first and second courses. And the second course would come with a whole new set of wines. It must take years and years to master what wines went with which meals, courses, and so forth. Was there staff devoted exclusively to that, or was it something kitchen staff as a whole simply picked up along the way?

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