The Reluctant Consort - 12. Chapter 12

The Countess Renai

Nisa Baiza, Countess of Renai and the daughter of General Baiza ran up the steps leading to the Imperial Military Offices at the palace. Heart pounding, she prayed that she wasn’t late. She had spent too much time at the West Nation border. She had joined the army under General Baiza when the war started, in the hopes of meeting Prince Kastan. When her father fell in the caves of Mount Kin, she was inundated in the war and winning against West Nation.

Orders had to be followed in the army and she barely got time to seek out the Imperial Prince. When the war ended, she was one of the people left at the border to help implement the new treaty.

It took too long for her to get news of Prince Kastan’s wedding.

The moment the announcement arrived at the newly built border offices, she had set out, hoping to get to the palace in time.

Nisa ran into the military offices at a dead run. She stopped when the officers in the receiving room looked up from their tasks to stare at her.

“Renai Countess,” the man behind the closest desk said, standing up. “Lady Baiza, it’s an honor to have you in our office. How may we be of help?”

Nisa sucked in air, hoping to slow her speeding heart rate. She had not stopped to think of what she was doing. Her assistant would be the one coming to ask for a meeting with the Imperial Prince. It was not normal for her to run in like this to demand an audience with Prince Kastan.

“My lady,” the man behind the desk said again.

“I—” Nisa started and looked around the room, conscious of everyone’s gaze on her. She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “I’m looking for His Highness, Imperial Prince.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Baiza,” the answer came. “His Highness, Imperial Prince has left the city. He has returned to the main command at Silver Shore Valley.”

Nisa bit back her protest and stepped back, disappointment filling her heart.

“Was Imperial Highness alone?” she asked, her voice almost in a whisper, afraid to hear the answer.

“No, Lady Baiza,” the man said, with a wide smile. “His Highness, Imperial Prince, took his consort home. I’m sorry you must have missed the wedding celebrations. The festivities were a sight to see.”

Nisa’s fingers curled into fists and she left the military office before she could punch the innocent man.

Sorrow filled her at the thought of Prince Kastan married and lost to her for good. She could hardly believe it was real. How long had she waited?

“Lady Baiza!”

Nisa looked up and was surprised to find the Empress’s Advisor, Fortan, standing a few feet away.

“It’s been a longtime. Lady Baiza, how have you been?”

Nisa could not find words to explain her current heartbreak. She was devastated. She had hoped that after the war she would have time to get closer to Prince Kastan. After all, she lived at Silver Shore Valley, and the prince had treated her with kindness and comforted her when her father died. She loved him and his son, Rashan. She had thought there would be time.

Why had she waited?

“Lady Baiza, you don’t look well,” Fortan said, moving closer to her. “Come with me. I’ll take care of you.”

*~*~*~*

Silver Shore Valley had one main entrance and exit. The road that led into the valley was between natural rock cliffs. The natural rock cliffs provided a unique defensive strategy, creating a funnel that Kastan thought of as a checkpoint. Blocking this entrance would mean a there would be no easy access into the valley unless an individual came along who loved steep cliff climbing. The fall from the top of the cliff to the valley on the other side was fatal.

Kastan had commissioned mammoth iron gates to fit between the two walls of natural rock. He had then found a very elite group of men and women called the Hidden Keepers to operate the gates. The Hidden Keepers were an elite secret guard. They looked like ordinary traders, but their society was strict and built on duty. It reminded him of the Shadow Guards in Blood Nation, but with a kinder training. Their main goal was to protect and keep peace.

Kastan had stumbled into their kind on a trip into the Iron Lands when he was still training. Before he was named Duke of Silver Shore, civil unrest erupted in the Iron Lands. Lord Revi’s policies as a trade minister had led to dissatisfaction. The Hidden Keepers were among some of the people who lost their lands due to bad loans and taxes. Lord Revi had taken over their lands in the Iron Lands and put them out of homes. Kastan had done his best to restore normalcy to the people during that time, by changing policies that would heal trade in the Iron Lands. When Kastan was gifted with Silver Shore, he had offered the hidden keepers a place to set roots in Silver Shore as long as they helped keep the valley safe from intruders. Over the years, the Hidden Keepers had become people Kastan trusted with his son’s life.

The gates stayed open during the day but at night, the heavy gates were kept locked, leaving a small entrance for those who arrived late or were in an emergency. The Hidden Keepers kept meticulous records of the coming ins and out of the residents of Silver Shore Valley. Their records came useful to the valley’s magistrate investigators and the policing force. They also helped to notice suspicious movement into the valley, or out of the valley.

Silver Shore Valley ran very much like any other city in the empire and crime was not unheard of.

The gates were open, though the sun was well below the horizon. The Hidden Keepers knew he was on his way home. Kastan led his horse to the large open gates, noting the five red flags that came up when he rode through.

Kastan was conscious of Jihan riding on his left, following him with confidence. He smiled at the thought, and warmth filled him. The well-oiled hinges started moving the moment they entered Silver Shore Valley, closing the gates.

Jihan turned back to see the large gates slide into place before he urged his horse to keep up with Kastan.

Riding the busy streets heading to Sun-Filled Manor, Kastan could feel the heavy weight that had settled on his shoulders before the West Nation war lifting. It had settled on him when he first left Silver Shore Valley. He hadn’t been sure how long it would take him to get back home. He had feared it would take a year, but thanks to Jihan that had not happened.

The carriages with relief food from the capital stopped at the magistrate office compound on the main street. Kastan noted his soldiers dismounting their horses in the magistrate compound and running to their families who were waiting for them. There would be laughter and joy, as well as grief and pain in the reunions.

Wars were hard on families. He was anticipating hundreds of names from the welfare office.

Kastan kept going, urging his horse into a faster run. He took a series of turns off the main road, and in the minor roads of the valley. He ended up on a secluded cobbled path that passed through a forest.

A five-minute ride brought them to a set of large black gates, the first of Sun-filled Manor defenses. The walls surrounding the outer perimeter joined cliffs on each end.

The guards opened the gates, and lifted five red flags. Kastan led the way into the relatively quiet grounds of the first level of his compound.

Kastan made sure Jihan was keeping up with him as he turned his horse to his right, taking a long winding path to the second level wall. The green gates were already opened with five red flags raised above them. Naveed tossed a black token to the guards as they rode.

Kastan brought his hand up in acknowledgement and rode up a steep path to the last gate.

The red gates were opened wide, the path lighted with outside lamps. The Hidden Keepers at the red gate stood on each side, and Kastan lifted his hand in greeting when he rode past. The red gates closed as fast as they opened, securing the manor.

Kastan slowed his horse to keep pace with Jihan as they headed up the cobbled path to the manor’s front yard. The flower gardens on each side were lighted with garden lamps, giving them a mystical atmosphere. Kastan enjoyed watching Jihan looking at the gardens. When they got to the open square at the manor’s front, Kastan brought his horse to a stop and dismounted. He hurried to help Jihan who had jumped off his horse. His consort clutched the reins of his horse, looking up at the manor with a wary glance.

Kastan took the reins of Jihan’s horse from him and gave them to Temu. He brushed his lips on Jihan’s cheek and took Jihan’s right hand in his.

“Welcome home,” Kastan murmured into Jihan’s ear, making Jihan give him a shy smile.

The front doors opened behind them, drawing Jihan’s attention back to the expansive Sun-Filled Manor. The manor was built to impress with stone from the valley. It boasted three stories of house with a courtyard in the middle. Thanks to Yasmin, the house was well lit with gas lamps that made it look warm and welcoming, hiding its age with elegance.

Kastan held Jihan’s hand tight and led him up the steps to where Fara and Yasmin waited.

“Your Grace,” Fara said, smiling at Kastan.

She turned to Jihan and brought her right hand to her chest. She gave him a respectful nod.

“Fara welcomes His Grace home to Sun-Filled Manor. I am Fara, Silver Shore Marquis’s nanny.”

Jihan nodded, accepting Fara’s greeting.

“And, I’m Yasmin, Sun-Filled Manor’s Housekeeper,” Yasmin said, her words rushed. “I welcome His Grace home. We’re excited to have you here.”

Jihan acknowledged her greeting with a smile. He looked exhausted from their hard day of travel. Kastan frowned, he didn’t think Jihan had slept enough the last few days.

“Where is Rashan?” Kastan asked, looking into the entryway, and down the wide hallway leading deeper into the house.

“He fell asleep,” Fara said, her tone apologetic. “He has waited for you two whole days without sleep. Finally, he slept on the chaise in the receiving room and I asked Safan to take him to bed.”

“Then, that’s fine,” Kastan said, squeezing Jihan’s hand. “Let him sleep. He can meet Jihan in the morning. It’s late and we have all had a hard day. Yasmin, please prepare bath water and a late meal for us. Serve it in our chamber.”

“Right away,” Yasmin said, already hurrying away, followed by Fara.

“Your Grace,” Temu said, making Kastan turn.

Temu and Naveed waited behind them, the horses already taken away by the stable master.

“We’ll leave you to rest,” Temu said, with a small smile. “We’re heading out to catch up.”

“Of course,” Kastan nodded, giving Temu and Naveed his permission to leave.

Temu and Naveed left with quick grins, and Kastan turned to Firuz. Firuz’s gaze was intent, as he took in the gardens.

Kastan knew the Shadow Guard would need to familiarize himself with Jihan’s new home.

“Feel free to explore the manor and the surrounding gardens,” Kastan said. “Discover all you can, Firuz.”

Jihan started to comment but Kastan lifted him into his arms and carried him into the bright entryway.

“Jihan, this is our home. I should show you every room, but I’m just going to take you to our chamber first. You can discover the rest later.”

Jihan chuckled and wrapped his arms around Kastan’s neck. Kastan hoped that he would manage to keep Jihan happy forever.

*~*~*~*

The next morning, even before the birds started singing, Kastan’s voice drifted into Jihan’s dreams.

“Jihan, I have to leave for a while,” Kastan said.

Jihan fought the heavy cloud of sleep and shifted only to have his lips captured in a soft kiss. Kastan brushed hair out of his face and Jihan opened his eyes to find Kastan leaning over him. Kastan was already dressed for the day, his hair damp from his morning bath. He knelt on their large bed his hands braced on each side of Jihan’s head.

“Are you awake enough?” Kastan asked, his lips against Jihan’s.

“Mm,” Jihan said, breathing in Kastan’s clean scent.

“There was a disturbance late last night,” Kastan said. “The Hidden Keepers have requested my presence.”

Jihan nodded and kissed Kastan.

“Go, I’ll be here,” Jihan said.

Kastan nodded and stared at him.

“Rashan is still asleep. Have your morning meal with him when he wakes up. He’ll like that,” Kastan said. “Fara and Yasmin will help you with anything you need. Safan is also around.”

Jihan nodded and pulled Kastan over him, happy when Kastan’s weight rested on him. Kastan hugged him and brushed his lips on the curve of Jihan’s neck.

“We’ll be fine,” Jihan promised.

Kastan nodded, and then moved away.

Jihan watched him leave their sleeping chambers and lay back on the comfortable pillows with a sigh.

A few minutes later, Firuz settled on the bed and Jihan smiled.

“There you are,” Jihan murmured. “Did you sleep?”

“Of course, your husband is generous. He’s given me a furnished room next to your chambers.”

“Yes, but did you sleep?”

“I rested,” Firuz said, his tone shy. “Your husband’s home is well defended. There is not much to worry about.”

“Better defended than Kamran Estate?” Jihan asked.

“Yes, much better,” Firuz said with a solemn tone. “You noticed the red flags yesterday?”

“I did,” Jihan said, thinking of the five red flags at each gate.

“Five entering the red gate,” Firuz added. “I doubt anyone else can enter the red gate so easily, without expressed permission.”

“Hmm,” Jihan nodded. “We’ll see what happens with Set and Garren. I’m anticipating their visits. I’ve been quiet too long.”

“They are probably the reason your husband has to leave so early,” Firuz guessed. “Are you sleeping in?”

Jihan rolled to his right side on the comfortable bed, so that he could look at Firuz. Firuz was also dressed for the day in his perpetual black clothes. The edges of his collar had red embroidery, which was enough to tell Jihan that their trunks had arrived at Silver Shore.

“I should take a bath and look presentable,” Jihan said, propping his head up with his right hand. “I have to meet my son.”

“Are you nervous?” Firuz asked.

Jihan started to shake his head, then met Firuz’s keen gaze in the dim room.

His mirror at all times, he thought.

“You know I’m nervous,” Jihan murmured. “It’s always been Andiya with me. She’s been more my parent, even as I said I protected her. Now, I am to parent someone.”

“You can start with friendship,” Firuz suggested. “Prince Rashan has a father in Duke Silver and a mother, in Princess Jian. You can’t replace these roles for him.”

Jihan felt like cold water had cascaded over him. How could he have forgotten Rashan’s mother, Princess Jian. Her name even sounded so close to his. It made him ache with an emotion he could not describe.

Jian was the woman rumored to be Duke Silver’s true love. The people made endless plays about their love story. The Eagle’s Claw had ran dozens of such plays. How Jian was the reason Kastan had kept Silver Shore Valley locked up.

Where would he fit in?

“Firuz is right,” Jihan murmured. “I’m not here to take Jian’s place.”

Kastan had not given him words of love, but he had given him a title that felt like a weight on his shoulders.

“Do you doubt Kastan’s motivations when he married you?” Firuz asked, voicing his thoughts.

“No,” Jihan said, sitting up on the bed, sleep long gone. “Although it is quite clear that we are not together because of love.”

“Love is not that simple,” Firuz said. “I don’t doubt that your husband feels it for you, Jihan. Otherwise, he would not have married you.”

“Our marriage was a necessity, to keep Andiya safe, and to gain the Emperor what he wanted. Kas and I, we’re just lucky that we are compatible,” Jihan said, his hand coming up to touch the mark on the curve of his neck.

Kastan had kissed him there and raised the red mark again, in a show of possessiveness. It felt good to have it there, even though they were only bound in commitment. It was foolish to expect love. He was lucky enough to have found a life partner, and that was more important.

“Love is not the issue right now,” Jihan said, shaking his head. “I should get ready to face the day.”

Firuz got up, and moved to open the curtains covering the many windows in the sitting area of the sprawling bedchamber. Jihan adjusted the waistband of his sleeping trousers, as he climbed out of the large bed. He stretched his arms above his head, his toes curling on the carpet on the floor. He shook his head when he saw the black tiger’s head on the carpet. It felt like everything Kastan owned was stamped with a black tiger head, including him.

“I want to meet the people who do all the branding,” Jihan said, dropping his arms to his sides.

Jihan looked up to where Firuz was finished pulling the curtains and he stared. His gaze diverted to the arched windows and the light that streamed into the small sitting area of this part of the bedroom. So much light, it felt like the sun was greeting him in the morning. Jihan crossed the room on bare feet, leaving the black carpet, stepping down a step to the sitting area. His fingers trailed over the backs of chairs, set around a table. He came to a stop by a large vase holding decorative spears.

Standing right by the glass windows, he smiled wide at the view. The gardens he had seen at the front entrance continued, and spread out below. They turned into a small fishpond that flowed into an open grass field. In the distance, Jihan saw the lake waters shining in the rising sun’s light. The horizon a splash of oranges and yellows, the beauty of it left him breathless.

“What a view,” Jihan murmured, touching the cool glass.

“This room does have the best view, although Rashan’s has an impressive one too,” Firuz said. “He also gets to see the back of the property where there is a cliff and a waterfall.”

Jihan smiled, his gaze never moving from the view. He felt healed just looking at it.

“Your bath water will get cold,” Firuz said, after a time. “Kastan’s housekeeper filled the tub in the bath with very hot water. She said to call if it cools.”

Jihan dragged his gaze away from the view and turned away, remembering the reasons why he had gotten out of bed. He followed Firuz through the small sitting area, up another set of steps. They crossed a larger sitting area on his right was the door.

Jihan was glad to see that the door was closed as they crossed the room to the west side of the large room. He wasn’t ready to meet anyone yet.

There were sliding doors on the farthest wall. Firuz slid them open and led the way into a large dressing room. The right side of the room was filled with Kastan’s clothes, hanging on racks mounted on the walls, and folded on shelves. Jihan recognized it as Kastan’s, when he saw the shining commander’s armor resting on a stand in the corner right side corner.

There was a table on Kastan’s side with two-foot stools on each side. It was laden with four little wood boxes and a hairbrush that looked out of place. Kastan must have left it there when he was leaving. Jihan turned to the left side of the room, his gaze widening at the sight of his clothes neatly arranged on racks, some folded on shelves. One of the racks at the end had clothes he did not recognize.

“The seamstresses have been hard at work,” Firuz said, when he noted Jihan’s gaze on the new clothes. “Apparently, Duke Silver’s Consort has a standard to keep. They used your usual clothes to make sure they fit.”

“Hmm,” Jihan said scratching his head.

He needed to wash his hair and soak in hot water for an hour. He wondered if there was a deep bath in this huge house. If not, he would miss the one he had at Kamran.

“Through that door, you’ll find the warm water in a tub,” Firuz said, pointing at a discrete door in the farthest corner of the room. “I’ll help you shave when you’re done with your bath.”

Jihan thanked him and went to bathe. The tub was enough to fit his whole body, but the water was lukewarm, so he could not linger. He washed all the important bits and rinsed his hair. Firuz came in carrying the shaving blade, shaving cream and brush. Firuz was fast with the razor, giving Jihan a very clean shave. He then moved to the table by the wall to clean up his tools.

“Have you ever thought to start a barber shop?” Jihan asked. He got out of the tub and dried his body with a towel. He moved to the same table where Firuz was working, and applied frankincense oil on his shaved jaw and the rest of his body.

“Do you think people would trust a Shadow Guard to hold a shaving blade so close to their necks?” Firuz asked, rinsing the brush with clean water in a bowl and placing on a small holder.

The woodsy scent of frankincense filled the room and Jihan imagined Firuz standing in a barber’s shop. His potential clients looking in and shuddering at the sight of Firuz, they would then run when Firuz sharpened his blade.

Jihan chuckled and shook his head.

“It might be better if you live with me forever,” Jihan said finishing with the oil.

He capped the frankincense bottle and placed it together with Firuz’s shaving items. He took an orange tree twig from a small box and stuck it into his mouth. He used one side of it to brush his teeth, watching Firuz empty the water in the tub via a drain at the bottom. When that was done, Firuz left him alone and Jihan poured water into a goblet on the table. He rinsed his mouth, spitting out the water into the tub drain. When he was done, he rinsed the pencil-thick twig and cut off a piece of the end he had used. He returned it to its box and reached for a dry bath towel.

He was shivering when he came out of the bathroom to find Firuz had laid out his clothes on a comfortable chair on his side of the dressing room.

Jihan rubbed himself dry once more, and then wore his black inner trousers and a black inner shirt. He pulled on dark socks and reached for the bath towel to dry his hair some more when the back of his inner shirt felt wet. Firuz held out a deep blue long robe made of fine silk.

Jihan stood up from the chair he sat in and wore it, tying it at his waist. The top shaped to frame his slender shoulders and chest, and then flowing down. It reached almost to his ankles. Jihan raised a brow looking at Firuz.

Firuz shrugged and handed him an outer robe. The fabric was heavier, the gold embroidery on the collar, the hem and the sleeves intricate and fine. It was long to match the robe he wore, but while the top fit to match, the bottom skirts had slits on the sides to allow for easier movement, Jihan guessed, as he wore the outer robe. The sleeves fit at his wrists, but there was nothing to secure the front. He looked up, and Firuz moved to fit a wide leather belt with gold rings on it around his waist. Firuz secured it around Jihan’s waist.

The wide leather belt held the two sides of his outer robe in place. The belt had a red jade token hanging on his left side. Jihan lifted the red jade to study the sculpted tiger with a red tassel hanging on it.

“Your husband’s are black, yours are red,” Firuz said, nodding to the opposite side of the room. Jihan saw that Kastan’s belts all had black tokens attached to them. “You’ll have to ask him what it means.”

Jihan nodded and let go of the jade token. He adjusted his sleeves and rubbed his hands together. He was cold, thanks to his damp hair. Jihan moved to a shelf, which held all his hairpins. He got a strong wooden one and rolled his damp hair into a tight bun on his head. He stuck the long pin inside the bun to hold in place, and almost moaned in gratitude when Firuz dropped a heavy blue wool cloak over his shoulders.

Jihan pulled it close, and shivered slightly. He picked up his fan from the table on his side and rubbed his stomach.

“I’m starving,” Jihan said. “Are you hungry, Firuz? I could eat a horse.”

“Don’t say that around the horses, it’s cruel,” Firuz said.

Jihan chuckled, and led the way out of the dressing room.

They left the master’s chambers and Firuz stopped at a door on his immediate right. Jihan followed him into the neat handsome room. It had a medium sized bed and a sitting area. Jihan spied a discrete door in the farthest corner that he assumed was where Firuz could change and freshen up.

“Naveed gave me this room to use,” Firuz said, picking up his own cloak.

Jihan patted the neat bed and smiled.

“It’s a beautiful room,” Jihan said, glad that Kastan had understood that Firuz would need to live close to him.

“It is,” Firuz said with a pleased smile as he led the way out and closed the door.

Jihan grinned and followed him down the wide hallway. Firuz pointed to the first door they met on his right.

“This is Naveed’s room, he is followed by Master Safan, Rashan’s teacher,” Firuz said, pointing to the door on his left. “Temu is in the room next to mine. I believe the setup is to ensure full defense if intruders got in. I would plan it the same.”

Jihan nodded as they reached an open space with long benches and a table. He vaguely remembered the staircase as Kastan brought him upstairs last night. He had been too sleepy to pay attention. There was an open door across them.

“That is Rashan’s chamber,” Firuz said, then pointed to a door right off the stairs, “and that is his school room. It’s packed with books.”

Jihan stood in the middle of the open space and glanced down the hallway to the doors leading to Kastan’s chambers. All that mattered to Kastan kept close and secure on the first floor of the manor. The carpet in the hallway was faded, instead of the red it was supposed to be, it was very light now. He turned his attention to the furniture in the open sitting area. The wood looked neglected, even though the cushions were very clean and there was not a speck of dust.

Jihan followed Firuz to the stairs leading down, his gaze lingering over the set that led upstairs to the second level.

“The second floor has a martial arts practice room and an impressive weapons cache,” Firuz said. “There is an unfinished construction in the north west corner. It looks like it was started then forgotten. A corridor leads to the north wing, there are more rooms, but they are neglected.”

Jihan continued down the stairs to the ground floor.

Firuz continued his tour.

“To our immediate right, the first door belongs to Yasmin, the housekeeper,” Firuz said. “Down the very short corridor is Fara, Rashan’s nanny. This box of space at this staircase creates privacy. You can’t tell who is going upstairs from the front of the house.”

Jihan smiled at Firuz’s apparent appreciation of Kastan’s manor. They walked down a short corridor and came to an interesting corner. To Jihan’s left was a corridor leading to the front of the house. He could see a sunken room near the entryway. Right in front of him was a wooden screen wall with shapes of dancing tigers carved in the wood. The wooden screen wall was in the shape of an L. Making a corridor on Jihan’s left and right ahead. If one moved closer, they could peep through the holes carved in to see the front entryway.

“The room to your left seems like an office. The door is locked and I could only peep through the vents,” Firuz said. “Behind the wooden screen is a meditation garden that needs attention. It’s a very odd place to have it too, right in the center of the main floor.”

“We’re going directly ahead,” Firuz said, pointing down the continuing corridor and kept walking.

Jihan touched the carved wooden screen wall as he walked. He loved the workmanship on it. There was a wall on Firuz’s side and Jihan spied a pair of sliding doors near the end of the corridor they were using.

“This is an office,” Firuz said, as they walked past those doors. “Yasmin comes in and out of it, so it must be used to manage the household. She seems to be running the place alone.”

“It shows,” Jihan said, opening his fan and waving it in lazy motions.

They came to a stop at another intersection. The wooden screen ended, and Jihan stepped around it to catch a glimpse of the garden. It was a square space set in the middle of the main room just as Firuz judged.

The garden had large decorative rocks in the middle and different shades of gravel that lay in a disarranged mass. It looked like someone had forgotten how to sweep the gravel and chaos reigned. The garden was bright. Jihan looked up wondering where the light was coming from and stilled. Someone had taken the time to build a roof light above the garden. Which made Jihan want to step out and look at Sun-filled Manor’s structure. The glass in the roof light would bring sunlight to the garden and make the rocks in the gravel shine. Neglect stains covered the glass above muting the effect.

Jihan frowned.

“It would be a great place to meditate in the silence of night,” Firuz said beside him. “It needs work.”

“You love these types of gardens,” Jihan said. “When we’ve been here longer, and they are used to us, maybe you can take charge of it.”

“I look forward to it,” Firuz said.

Jihan smiled and turned around to find a cozy sitting area tucked in the southeast corner.

“This looks like where your family would sit. There is a library behind the wall, and comfortable chairs,” Firuz said. He pointed to the entryway. “That wall is for a room accessed right after you enter the front doors. I assume it’s for visitors you can’t turn away, but don’t want to invite inside. The opposite end of this floor has a large meeting room. I imagine your husband might have important guests who visit him here.”

Jihan nodded, thinking of the generals in Kastan’s armies. Each one demanding a level of respect as they visited their commander. It would be a headache, but he needed to learn each of their names soon.

His stomach grumbled and Firuz took his left elbow moving him back on their original path. The dining hall was tucked in the southwest corner of the ground floor. Firuz guessed that it was set there to be closer to the kitchen, which was separate from the main house.

A wide hallway on Firuz right led to the back door of the manor.

“If you go out those doors,” Firuz said, pointing to the tall wood doors, “you’ll find more toilets on your immediate right. It’s lucky you have a special one in your chambers. Your husband’s people have worked to develop the manor’s plumbing. It reminds me of the Eagle’s Claw but with an upgrade.”

Jihan smiled, thinking Firuz was more in love with this manor than even the master was.

“Also, you’ll find a large bath near the kitchens, just like the one we had at Kamran Estate. This one is larger and one can swim in the hot water.Naveed said I could use it anytime I want, as long as I talk to the kitchen staff. They heat the water in a large vat to fill the bath.”

Jihan was glad to discover he would not need to start construction of a bath.

They stopped at the closed dining hall doors.

Jihan’s thoughts were on the state of the furniture and carpets he had seen on their path. The wood was sun-damaged, the natural colors on fabrics, curtains and carpets fading. The manor was old, but clean, meaning the housekeeper did the best she could, it just needed a little uplifting.

Surely, Duke Silver could have afforded that at any time. Why hadn’t he bothered?

Firuz reached to open the dining hall doors just as Jihan heard a young voice talking. He motioned Firuz to wait before sliding the doors open. It sounded like Rashan and maybe Fara, whom Jihan had met the night before.

“Did you see Imperial Prince Consort last night?” Rashan asked. “How did he look? Do you think he is nice?”

“He is handsome and his smile is ready,” Fara said. “I think he is a good man.”

“What title should I use to address him?” Rashan asked. “Master Safan, do you know what they used for my mother?”

“Princess Jian was the daughter of the old king of Blood Nation. She was already titled when she came to us,” Safan said. “She was Her Royal Highness in the Imperial Palace, and Her Grace, the Duchess of Silver Shore, here at home. We called her Duchess or Her Grace.”

“So,” Rashan said. “Do I call Imperial Prince Consort, Prince Jihan?”

“That might be easiest,” Fara said.

“What will you call him, Master Safan?” Rashan asked.

“His Highness, or His Grace,” Safan said, “depending on the occasion.”

“What about you Fara?”

“Prince Jihan,” Fara said, “or His Grace, as he is also a Duke now.”

“Why is he not a Duchess?” Rashan asked.

“Because he is a Duke,” Fara said with infinite patience.

Jihan smiled at this, closing his fan.

“If I call my father, Pa, then shouldn’t I also call Prince Jihan Pa?”

“If you want to,” Fara said, her tone losing confidence.

Jihan could understand her.

A new parent who was also not blood related was hard to navigate.

“You don’t sound sure,” Rashan said. “What do you think I should use to address Prince Jihan?”

Jihan closed his eyes. He had hoped Kastan would be with him when this conversation came up, but it seemed like he would have it alone. He had no easy answer for Rashan. He didn’t feel qualified enough to be Rashan’s anything on this first day of his life at Sun-filled Manor. Still, he was here, and Rashan’s concerns were now his too.

Jihan nodded to Firuz, who knocked on the door once and slid it open.

Jihan took in a deep breath and entered the dining hall, breathing out slowly.

“Good morning,” he said, keeping his tone light. “I thought I woke up early, but everyone is already up.”

“Your Grace,” Fara said, giving him a nod. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Safan said, standing and bringing his right hand to his chest, “Welcome to Silver Shore Valley.”

“Thank you Master Safan,” Jihan said, his gaze moving to Rashan who stood behind his master. The room had one long dining table that looked like it could sit twenty.

Safan had occupied a seat in the middle of the table, his plate empty, as if he had just finished his meal. When Jihan came in, he had stood up, pushing his chair back. Rashan stood behind Safan holding the back of Safan’s chair. Rashan’s move was defensive.

Jihan felt his heart ache at the sight of it.

“I don’t know if you remember me,” Jihan said, meeting Safan’s knowing gaze. “We met briefly months ago.”

“Of course, I remember you, Your Grace. You saved Rashan from a runaway carriage. He has wanted to thank you since. You also saved me from your Shadow Guard,” Safan said with a grin.

Jihan returned the grin and turned to look at Firuz who stood behind him, his expression blank.

Jihan turned to Fara.

“I’m sorry to trouble you, but I’m starving. May we have our morning meal in here?” Jihan asked, looking around the dining hall.

There was a fireplace in the corner, close to the windows. There were three smaller round tables, each set up with two chairs, near the fireplace. The fire was already going and it beckoned to Jihan. It seemed like the perfect place to have breakfast.

“It’s no trouble, Your Grace,” Fara said. “Rashan has not eaten yet either. He can join you. I will be right back.”

“Perfect,” Jihan said.

Safan placed his spoon in his plate and picked up his goblet and plate.

“I’ll help Fara. If you don’t mind, your Shadow Guard may come with me to the kitchen.”

Jihan turned to Firuz, and he nodded. Firuz squeezed his right shoulder and followed Safan out the side door leading outside.

Alone with Rashan, Jihan rubbed his hands again, his gaze on the fireplace.

“Rashan, I’m a bit cold this morning,” Jihan said. “Do you mind if we sit by the fire?”

“How come you’re cold?” Rashan asked, even as he started moving down the length of the table.

“I get that way in the morning,” Jihan said. “I feel cold but it gets better as the sun rises.”

Jihan walked the length of the table, keeping pace with Rashan and stopped when Rashan came around the large chair at the head of the table.

Rashan was tall for his age, and looked like Kastan in every way. There was no doubt that Rashan belonged to Kastan.

Jihan smiled at the thought of them standing next to each other. He doubted he would tire of finding similarities.

Rashan’s hair was braided at the sides, the thick curly mass then held back with a leather tie. It looked like Fara’s work. He was in a simple pale green tunic this morning, with the same ornate embroidery as Jihan’s outer coat on the hems. Rashan wore silver vambraces on his wrists and his boots were black.

Jihan was quick to note that the tiger token hanging off his matching belt was a deep green.

Jihan held out his right hand to the boy and felt his heart skip when Rashan hurried to take it. Jihan squeezed Rashan’s hand.

“Rashan, I am Jihan, your father’s consort. It’s nice to see you again,” Jihan said.

“It’s nice to see you too,” Rashan said with a quick smile. “You look different from the last time I met you.”

“How different?” Jihan asked.

“I don’t know,” Rashan said. “I think your hair was down. You were also dressed like a scholar.”

“That’s true. I was in the middle of traveling,” Jihan said. “Should we sit?”

“Yes,” Rashan said, allowing Jihan to lead him to the small round table closest to the fireplace.

Jihan waited until Rashan was settled before he moved closer to the fire. He held his hands out and felt a wave of warmth flood him. It felt good and he kept it up until he couldn’t take it anymore. Hiding his hands in his cloak, Jihan moved to sit in the empty chair across Rashan.

“Um, Prince Jihan,” Rashan started, his hands folded on his lap.

“Rashan,” Jihan interrupted, wincing at the formality. “Why don’t we change how you address me? Prince Jihan sounds too formal for me, for us here at home. Why don’t you call me Jihan?”

“That would be too impolite,” Rashan said, sounding older than his eleven years. “Master Safan says it’s good to remember who we are in this valley.”

Jihan nodded, okay, that sounded reasonable. Rashan was Silver Shore Marquis. The people in the valley probably used his title to address him.

Jihan met keen intelligent eyes. He needed to keep things open and clear with this young prince, especially because he needed Rashan to learn how to trust him.

Jihan breathed out and his gaze slid to the fire. It’s warmth seeping in to him slowly. He should have dried his hair more. Then he would be able to think clearly. For some reason, Kyra and her enthusiasm to introduce Jihan to her son filled his thoughts. He turned to Rashan in excitement.

“How about you call me what you call your Aunt Kyra’s husband?” Jihan suggested.

“Uncle Nade?” Rashan asked, his gaze turning thoughtful. “But, he’s my uncle, and you’re my father’s consort, almost like my Ma, or Pa.”

Jihan nodded.

“I know, but you and I don’t know each other that well yet,” Jihan said. “Right now, I’m like an uncle who has moved into your house. So, it is perfectly okay to call me Uncle Jihan. Try it.”

“Uncle Jihan,” Rashan said, gave a thoughtful nod, and then he leaned forward. “I’ll try it for now. It sounds better than Step Pa which was suggested by some of my friends at the academy.”

“I am your Step Pa,” Jihan agreed, “but calling me that does sound odd.”

Besides, he didn’t want to be Step Pa. He wanted Rashan to like him and want to talk to him, as a child would his favorite uncle.

Rashan grinned and Jihan felt his heart soar at the sight of it.

How could it be so similar to Kastan’s grin?

“I could call you Ma,” Rashan said, his serious tone stunning Jihan into silence.

“Uh,” Jihan said, trying to find a comeback for this that wouldn’t include insulting Rashan’s mother in anyway.

Gods help him, what was the right thing to say.

“Um…you know I can’t be your Ma?”

“No, you’re not a Ma,” Rashan said, and chuckled his eyes bright with mirth.

Jihan realized Rashan was teasing him and he shook his head.

“You scared me,” Jihan said, pressing his palms on top of the table. “I don’t know the first thing about being a Ma. They are very special people, you know.”

“How?” Rashan asked, curious.

“Well, for one, your Ma gave you to your Pa,” Jihan said. “Don’t you think that’s special?”

Rashan nodded and swallowed hard.

“I didn’t get to meet her though. Pa says she was excited to have me and that I should always know she loved me.”

Jihan felt a measure of guilt flood him.

Rashan grieved for a mother he had not gotten to meet. Yet, Jihan took his mother for granted on a daily basis. She tried her best to love him in her own way, and yet he only saw her faults.

Jihan swallowed hard, and reached out to pat Rashan’s right hand on the table between them.

“Your Pa is right,” Jihan said. “Your Ma loved you very much. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Do you have a Ma?” Rashan asked.

“I do,” Jihan said with a small smile.

“Can I meet her?” Rashan asked.

“Anytime you want,” Jihan said. “I’ll ask her to visit us, or we can visit her, whichever one you want.”

“If she visited, I’d show her all my favorite spots,” Rashan said. “Would you like to see my favorite spots in the valley?”

“I’d love to see them,” Jihan said.

“Then, Uncle Jihan, when we get to know each other better, can I call you Papa?” Rashan asked, “Because you’ll be like my second pa?”

Elated by the prospect, Jihan reached out again to take Rashan’s hand. He squeezed it gently and nodded.

“When you’re ready, Rashan,” Jihan said.

Fara brought them breakfast soon after, and Jihan sat with Rashan listening to tales about the Silver Lake beach. Rashan sounded like he spent a lot of time by the beach exploring. He was also fond of apricots, and riding the horse his father gifted him.

Jihan listened with rapt attention, as they ate breakfast. Safan and Firuz sat in chairs at the large dining table. Jihan hoped they were bonding after their near fight when they first met.

*~*~*~*

Kastan could not recall the last time he had heard of an intruder wanting to enter Sun-filled Manor. There were occasional break-ins on the third level, but never all the way to the green gate, or even to his red gate. No one was crazy enough to venture into his personal stronghold.

He walked the perimeter wall of the green gate accompanied by Temu and Naveed. Kastan adjusted his sword belt, the leather of his boots wet from the morning dew on the grass. There were no visible signs of intrusion; nothing to show someone had jumped over, not even footsteps on soft soil. Ahead of him, he could see some of the soldiers in charge of the perimeter wall. They had been running continuous patrols, inspecting every inch of the area.

The head of security in the green zone was Palona, an older man, with a very keen sense of duty. He came hurrying to Kastan after releasing the team of five.

Kastan stopped and waited for Palona.

“What time did you notice this person?” Temu asked when Palona reached them.

“It was late. The moon high in the sky,” Palona said frown lines creasing his forehead. “The fact that the moon was high and he made it in this far is worrying.”

“Then, our intruder is not very ordinary,” Naveed said, a note of excitement in his voice.

Naveed loved puzzles.

Kastan clasped his hands behind his back and gave the perimeter wall another speculative glance. He wasn’t naïve as to think a wall would keep out a determined assassin. Naveed and Temu could make it to the red gates without detection. He could make it into the house, and had done so numerous times. The only other person he knew who could now manage what he could was Firuz, Jihan’s Shadow Guard.

“Troop four and five are on patrol,” Palona said, into the following silence. “They have combed every inch of this level. We’ve gone through all the buildings—”

“Is anything missing?” Kastan asked, curious.

“No. Nothing is missing,” Palona said, his voice heavy with concern.

Kastan understood his worry. A thief was preferable to a disappearing intruder. Stolen items could be replaced, but peace of mind was hard to restore.

“Not even in the sewing workshop?” Naveed asked, his tone changing, filling with a wary note.

“What would they want with clothes?” Temu asked, scowling at his best friend.

“Clothes to look like the soldiers on duty,” Naveed said, making Temu snap his fingers in realization.

They both turned expectant gazes on Palona.

“We checked the inventory,” Palona said, “including the distribution warehouse and in the troop’s quarters. Nothing is missing. No one is missing an extra pair of shoes, or cloak or uniform.”

Kastan narrowed his gaze and his attention drifted to Jihan and his Kamran Network. When they were at Kin Town, Temu and Naveed had experienced the same moments. There had been unknown people sneaking into the inn and disappearing without a clear glimpse.

Kastan had yet to discuss Jihan’s business with him. Jihan’s people were a probability. They would be restless for news about their master by now, even with Andiya back home.

“Palona,” Kastan said, turning to head back to the Duke’s main office. It was set up in the green zone for easy access to the community officials, and anyone else who wanted to see him.

“Yes, Your Grace?” Palona said.

“Temu, Naveed and the Hidden Keepers in the red compound will take over,” Kastan said. “Whoever it is, they are not here for a thing but a person or information. Don’t interfere.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Palona said, relief in his voice.

Breach of gates was a deadly case to present to Kastan especially with no evidence. Kastan understood Palona’s relief. It was not easy being in a position of authority in his chain of command. He expected results and performance. He was proud that Palona’s team had managed to detect someone who moved with the shadows, or it could be this person had allowed Palona to see him.

Temu gave Kastan a short nod and hurried off, leaving Naveed with Kastan.

“Why don’t we go through the rest of your report,” Kastan said, when they entered the busy Duke’s office. “I promised my Consort I’d get back to him soon. I don’t want to lie to him.”

“Right away, Your Grace,” Palona said, rushing ahead to the receiving desk. He picked up a rolled writing paper and followed Kastan to the inner office.

Palona started his report as Kastan walked around a large desk and settled in his chair ready to sign requests, read petitions and reports on the happenings in the valley.

“We have petitions coming in from the welfare office. Families of officers fallen in battle…”

Kastan stayed in the office for two solid hours. He made it back home right before lunch, and entered the house feeling mentally tired. The families of fallen soldiers weighed on his mind, mothers whose husbands had died leaving their families vulnerable. There was no way to ease that kind of loss, and the easiest way was to provide them with a financial safety net.

Kastan rolled his shoulders, trying to ease tension. The unknown intruder also nagged at the back of his mind. He had Rashan and Jihan to protect now. He hoped this person meant them no harm. He couldn’t imagine the idea of losing Rashan or Jihan.

Shaking his head, he nodded at Naveed who took the box of petitions to the housekeeping office. His household would handle most of the payouts to the families of fallen soldiers. Their purse strings would be tight, but there was no choice.

Temu hurried in from the outdoors.

Kastan paused by the neglected gravel garden, hoping for any sort of news.

“Nothing yet,” Temu said. “The Hidden Keepers are looking. They’ll send a message when they discover something.”

Kastan nodded and rubbed his stomach when it growled. He headed to the dining room, with Temu hurrying around him to open the sliding doors. He would get something to eat before going to find Jihan and Rashan.

Kastan paused when he entered the dining room, his breath caught when he saw the trio sitting at the round table by the fireplace.

Jihan and Rashan sat facing each other. They were playing a dice game, Rashan half sitting, and half standing in his seat as he checked the scores. Laughing and talking, his voice filled with excitement. They had both rolled their dice, and the dice was hidden under cups.

Jihan was looking under his cup on his side trying to see what he had rolled.

“Wait, wait,” Rashan said, covering Jihan’s cup too with a small grin. He pointed at the wooden hairpin holding Jihan’s hair on top of his head. “Is that the only thing you have to wager?”

“It is,” Jihan said, reaching up to pat the bun. “What? It’s a very good hairpin. I haven’t complained using it.”

“Why didn’t you have one with our house crest?” Rashan asked, his frown matching the one on Kastan’s forehead.

It was good to wear items that identified their house. He had taught that to Rashan because it meant that people did not give his son a hard time out there. Now he would need to teach it to Jihan. His independent and willful Jihan, would it even work?

“I was sleepy when I dressed this morning,” Jihan said, making Firuz chuckle.

The Shadow Guard sat behind Jihan’s chair, helping Fara peel potatoes. It was such a domestic scene. Kastan was stunned watching it.

“Fine, I’ll take the wooden hairpin,” Rashan said, letting go of Jihan’s dice cup, grinning wide.

Jihan narrowed his gaze at Rashan, a teasing twinkle in his gaze.

“You look pretty confident. What if I win?” Jihan asked, reaching out to stay Rashan from opening his cup.

“You won’t,” Rashan said in a singsong voice, “But if you do, I’ll give you my hairpin.”

Jihan laughed and made a show of opening his dice cup. Rashan opened his with a flourish too. Standing up, he peered at Jihan’s dice.

“You got four, and I have two sixes. I win,” Rashan said, clapping as he jumped around the table.

“How do you keep winning?” Jihan complained, sulking as he looked at Rashan’s dice. “These things are being mean to me.”

Rashan chuckled and moved to Jihan’s side, patting Jihan’s shoulder.

“I’ve given you my pair more than once. You know I’m not cheating.”

Jihan sighed and shook his head. He reached up and with one move, removed the wooden hairpin, his hair tumbling down his back. Kastan found himself wanting to protest at the show of splendor. Now that Jihan was his, he didn’t want anyone else to see Jihan looking so…free and open. Rashan grinned when Jihan handed him the wooden hairpin.

“You’re a worthy opponent, Rashan,” Jihan praised, when Rashan took the hairpin.

Rashan surprised Kastan when he removed his own hair tie and pulled his hair into a tight roll on top of his head. He stuck the wooden pin to hold it just like Jihan.

“Your Grace,” Safan said, coming up to Kastan from the door leading to the kitchen. “Welcome back. They have been at it since this morning. I didn’t have the heart to pull Rashan into his daily schedule today.”

“You did well,” Kastan said, then crossed the dining hall to reach his family, wanting to join in the fun.

“Pa!” Rashan said, when he saw him. “Did you see? Uncle Jihan lost his hairpin to me. Do you like it on me?”

Kastan’s right brow rose at Rashan’s address of Jihan, but Jihan took his left hand. Kastan saw Jihan shake his head and decided they must have reached some sort of agreement.

“Shan, it looks very good on you,” Kastan praised his son. He touched the wooden hairpin holding Rashan’s hair and smiled. “Shan, why don’t you check on the fire for me? It looks like it’s going down.”

“Sure,” Rashan hurried to the fireplace, followed close by Firuz.

Kastan turned his attention to Jihan and before Jihan could speak, he leaned down and kissed him on the lips.

It had been a long time since he had come home to laughter and joy. Seeing Jihan and Rashan play and laugh, unraveled him. Ending their kiss, Kastan breathed in Jihan’s scent, earthy and uplifting; he filled his lungs with it, and caressed Jihan’s cheek with his thumb.

Jihan wrapped cool fingers around his wrist.

“Is everything okay?” Jihan asked.

“It’s perfect,” Kastan said, using his free hand to stroke his fingers through Jihan’s heavy hair. He was surprised to feel that it was cold and a little damp. Turning around to make sure the fire was going again, Kastan urged Jihan to stand. He lifted Jihan’s chair and moved it as close as it could get to the fireplace and urged Jihan to sit.

Firuz moved the table and Rashan’s chair. Temu got a chair for Kastan and in minutes, their family of three sat around the table. Kastan winked at Rashan, understanding why he had taken the hairpin from Jihan. His son must have realized Jihan’s hair was damp.

Fara brought him food, and a pot of tea to share with Rashan and Jihan.”

“Pa, earlier, I heard the Hidden Keepers discussing an intruder.” Rashan sipped his tea, his elbows on the table. “How is it possible?”

Kastan noted Jihan’s worried gaze, then turned to Rashan.

“There was an intruder spotted in the green area last night. There have been no other sightings, but you should be careful, Shan. Listen to Master Safan.”

“I always do,” Rashan said. “I’ll help you protect Uncle Jihan.”

“It will make me happy if you both protect each other. Why do you call him Uncle?” Kastan asked, needing an answer, holding Rashan’s gaze.

“We talked about it,” Rashan said, his gaze thoughtful. “We decided that it was better to start with uncle, and then when we get to know each other and I’m ready, Uncle Jihan said I can call him Papa.”

Kastan turned to Jihan for confirmation, and got a smile and nod in return.

How had he gotten so lucky?

“Then, I’ll trust your judgment,” Kastan said.

*~*~*~*