So this was his chance. He could make up for his missed meeting with the princess and try to gather the information Genya and the others required. Be charming. Right. Charming.
But before he could decide on a good opening line, the princess lifted her head.
She rose hurriedly and curtsied. “Your Highness.”
“I didn’t mean to intrude on your peace,” he said in Shu.
“I am a guest here. There can be no intrusion.” She glanced at the guards. “Would you … would you care to sit and talk awhile?”
There. I didn’t even have to ask. And yet he still wanted to turn and scurry right back through the door. But to say no now would be seen as a snub. Besides, Tolya might well block the door and refuse to let him through.
Isaak took a seat beside her on the wide rock next to the pond. The air smelled of sweet orange blossom, and the low splash of fish at play in the water was soothing. It might have been a pleasant place to rest if not for the guards glowering in the doorways. Isaak vowed that when he had his face back and returned to duty, he’d try to look a little friendlier.
“Thank you for joining me,” Ehri said.
“It’s my pleasure.”
“Hardly that,” she murmured with a small smile. “No doubt you came here to be alone—as alone as we ever can be—just as I did.”
“But if you wish to be alone, why invite me to join you?”
“I must be seen to be making an effort or the guards will report back to my sister, and then I will never hear the end of it.”
“Your sister?”
“Makhi Kir-Taban, Born of Heaven, our most celestial princess who will inherit the crown and rule wisely and justly for many years.”
“And what will you do?” asked Isaak. A woman wants to be listened to.
“Marry you, of course.”
“Of course,” Isaak said, willing himself not to squirm. “But if you were not to marry me?”
At this, she looked almost panicked, as if the question was not one that had been scripted for her, and she wasn’t at all sure how honest she should be. Isaak could sympathize. “Please,” he said gently, both to put her at ease and because he found he was genuinely curious. “I’d like to know.”
She brushed her thumb over the silk of her gown. “I suppose that, if I hadn’t been born Taban, I would like to be a soldier … maybe even a member of the Tavgharad.”
“Truly?” He couldn’t help but laugh. It was too absurd to contemplate a guard pretending to be a prince talking to a princess who wanted to be a royal guard.
She frowned slightly. “It isn’t kind to laugh.”
Instantly Isaak sobered. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I was just surprised. Serving in the royal guard is a very noble calling. And it would allow some measure of freedom, though even guards have duties.”
“Yes, but they’re not forced to pose and preen just to be sold off like chattel.” She paled, realizing what she’d said. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean … It would be my greatest honor—”
“Don’t apologize. Please. I asked for your honesty. I don’t expect every woman I meet to be eager to wed me.”
A crease appeared between her brows. “You don’t?”
Damn it. Another misstep. Isaak winked. “Not at first.” That was a far more Nikolai answer—though the princess looked slightly disappointed.
“You can make it up to me,” said Ehri. “I have been honest with you; now perhaps you will share a secret with me. It’s only fair.”
I’m not the king of Ravka, just a lowly grunt trying not to perspire in his fancy clothes. No, that was definitely not the right reply. Isaak supposed he should say something flirtatious, but he wasn’t sure which secrets belonged to him and which belonged to the king.
“Very well. My secret is that I did wish to be alone, but that I’m still enjoying your company. It’s been a hard morning.”
“Has it?”
“A girl almost drowned.”
Ehri released an unprincess-like snort. “It’s her own fault for throwing herself in the lake.”
“Pardon?”
“I would wager my best axe there was nothing accidental about her plunge into the water.”
“Your best axe?”
Ehri tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “I am an avid collector.”
A princess who wanted to be a palace guard and who liked weapons. She was at least interesting.
“How can you be so sure the Schenck girl jumped?” he asked.
“Because my own advisers suggested I do the same thing last night.”
Isaak stared. “You’re saying she risked her own life just to—”
“Gain the notice of a king and give him the chance to play hero?” Ehri sniffed, and smoothed the silk of her gown. “A reasonable gambit, but not one I was prepared to make.”
He studied her. “Not when you could simply wait for a pensive king to amble by and find you looking like a painting in green silk with flowers in your hair?” Her golden eyes shifted away guiltily. “How long were you waiting, hoping I might stroll by?”
She bit her lip. “Two hours and twelve minutes. Give or take.”
He was both annoyed and pleased that she’d actually been frank. “That stone ledge can’t be very comfortable.”
“I regret to say, I can no longer feel my buttocks.”
At that Isaak burst out laughing, then caught himself. That was not Nikolai’s laugh. He saw one of the palace guards cock his head to the side. Trukhin. Isaak had worked countless shifts with him around the palace. He had every reason to recognize Isaak’s laugh.
All Saints, Isaak was tired of this charade already. But the princess had provided him an opening.
“If you can’t manage a short stint sitting on a rock, I don’t see how you could hope to fill the role of guard standing at attention for hours.”
“Then thank goodness I was born royal.”
“I confess I know little of the Tavgharad,” said Isaak, hoping his voice sounded natural. “Are they drawn from noble families?”
“They aren’t drawn from anywhere,” Ehri said, a surprising bite to her voice. “They come from every town and every village where they test and train and hope to be chosen. There is no greater honor.”
“Than defending you?” He couldn’t keep the smile from his voice.
Ehri bit her lip. “The Taban line. I’m one of the lesser jewels in the crown.”
Isaak found that hard to believe. She was awfully pretty. He couldn’t imagine what her sisters looked like if she was the plain one.
He pressed on. “It must be a hard life, even if it is rewarding. Do they leave their families behind as the Grisha do?”
She stiffened slightly. “They’re happy to do so.” She trailed a hand over the water. “I think it’s hardest for the twins.”
“Twins?”
“They’re very common among our people.” She bobbed her head toward Tolya. “Like the Keb-Bataar.”
“It’s an interesting word, kebben. We don’t have one like it in Ravkan.” It could mean close kin or twin, but also someone bound to your heart.
Ehri closed her eyes and recited, “Everyone mourns the first blossom. Who will weep for the rest that fall?”
Isaak couldn’t help but smile. It seemed Tolya’s advice would come in handy after all. “I will remain to sing for you, long after the spring has gone.”
“You know it?” Ehri said in surprise.
“I learned it when I was first studying Shu.” It was a poem simply titled “Kebben’a,” and there was considerable debate over whether the title should be translated as My Dear or My Kin or My Only.
“It’s an old poem, long out of fashion, but it describes the spirit of kebben well.”
“I believe it was set to music,” Isaak said. “I’ve been told you play the khatuur?”
She bunched her hands in her silks, her expression tightening again. “Yes,” she said curtly. What had he done wrong?
“I’ve found …” he fumbled, afraid he might be about to botch everything horribly. “I’ve found that this position, this life of display, can take the savor from many things I once enjoyed.”
For a moment Ehri looked startled, even frightened, then something sparked in her eyes and she leaned forward. “I know,” she whispered. “At least if we were guards, we could spend the day doing something more exciting.”
“We could go riding.”
“Eat with our fingers.”
Ehri lowered her chin and whispered, “Belch.”
“With fervor.”
“We could—oh dear,” said Ehri. “I think we have company.”
And sure enough down both garden paths he saw the hopefuls and their chaperones approaching like a flock of beautifully dressed birds of prey. “Someone must have reported we were in private conversation.”
“Perhaps they’ll all throw themselves into the pond to get your attention,” whispered Ehri, and Isaak had to resist the urge to laugh again.
“What amuses the king so?” asked the Fjerdan princess as she approached, her fan fashioned to resemble an elegant spray of frost.
“Many things, I must confess,” said Isaak. “The king is a simple man.”
It wasn’t true, but so little was these days.
NINA KNEW GETTING THE WOMEN out of the fort would be no small challenge. Security would be tighter thanks to her little stunt, but they could at least hope that the soldiers might think the breach had been the result of a novitiate out to pull a prank or attempting a meeting with a soldier, not the work of a Ravkan spy.
When Nina met with Leoni and Adrik to plan, they kept their discussions in Zemeni and made sure to talk well away from the convent, under the cover of one of their excursions to sell the loading devices. They’d actually made sales to a few of the local fishermen who were attempting to hunt game for hides and meat now that the fish seemed to be dying off. They would have to restock soon.