The Courtesy of Kings | ☑ Queenkiller, Kingmaker #2

38.3

'Are we having guests?' Someone asked just as she disappeared up the hallway.

'This late at night?'

'It's a suitor, isn't it?' Another girl shrieked, and the entire room erupted into excitement.

Isla gripped Rinju's hand below the table, but the younger girl was just as excited as the rest of them. Only Hanh and a couple of the other smaller ones seemed more bewildered than anything. Mistress Sasya stood and waved them all down, but her voice was drowned in all the tumult.

'Can I see your sleeping chamber?' Isla whispered at Rinju, hoping to distract the girl with better—safer—activites. 'Do you share it with your friends?'

'Ours is on the first floor.' Rinju's eyes were still on the hallway even as she answered. 'But I don't think we're excused yet.'

'I could speak to Mistress Sasya and—'

'Can't we go after Mistress Umala comes back? Don't you want to see who the suitor's come for?'

Not really, no. Isla did not think she would be able to stop herself from interceding, for all the good it would do.

But it was not a suitor who returned with the matron. It was Maharaj Khaisan and a beautiful girl at his side. Her qi-sang flowed like a pool around her feet; thin layers of white over yellow like the shades of a baby daffodil. The pleated skirt was tied above her bust with orange crinoline, and beneath it she wore a white blouse with flowing sleeves.

'Girls.' Mistress Umala spoke in Common Kapuluan, articulating the words slowly and clearly. 'May I present to you our Rama-in-Waiting, Maharaj Khaisan Ametjas ... and honoured guest to our kingdom, the High Princess Jihan of Napoa.'

She wore her hair in two buns; so round and lustrous they looked like candied chestnuts on her head. The gems upon them twinkled when she turned to gaze upon the room. Isla shrunk into the shadows of the wall separating her from the hallway, hoping it would keep either of them from noticing her—a much older dhayang—among the children.

'I understand it is late,' said Maharaj Khaisan, 'but I am acquainting the princess to our palatial ring, and naturally have I left the highlight of the palace for last.'

'Welcome to the White Asraam.' Mistress Umala dipped into a low bow and all the children lowered their heads at her example. 'The gods have blessed us to have you.'

'I did not know you keep an orphanage at Kathedra,' said the High Princess Jihan. Hers was a clear, confident voice, but sounded much younger than she looked. She had a quiet smile—something one might wear while listening to a child's story—and she had not a single crease on her skin, not even around her eyes. 'Or are these simply the unintended products of your royalborns' more ... salacious nights? Surely your palace herbalists keep a steady supply of dianthus. Of course they do not always work, in which case lover's lace should do the trick, if your people were not so inimical to abortifacients.'

Khaisan smiled. He said something in response, but Isla was already yards away, trying to unravel what she had just heard.

'These are neither orphans nor bastards, princess,' said Khaisan. 'These are our realm's early-blooming girls. At least—those below sixteen summers. Surikhand is only glad their mothers did not take dianthus in their teas.'

The last words seemed drawn from his mouth and the horror sunk into Isla just as slowly. But the rajini asked if I—

Oh, no.

She shut her eyes, but Kiet's smirk only manifested in the darkness. You solicited me as though I were some tavern rentboy! His laughter echoed again and again and again ...