Chapter 1 #2
“Yes, but you don’t enjoy them,” Granny said bluntly. “In fact, I’d go as far to say that you haven’t appeared to enjoy much of anything these last five years. You fell into a slump after the death of that young captain, and you’ve been languishing ever since.”
Francis averted his eyes. He didn’t talk about Philippe. He didn’t know how to; his family had never been ones for showing emotion, so Francis had bottled up all his hurt.
He’d thought he had hidden it, but clearly not well enough.
Granny shifted forward in her seat, softening her tone. “I know you were fond of him, Francis. And it is unfortunate his life was cut so short while in service to the kingdom. But tell me honestly: would he want you to pine away forever?”
Francis swallowed. He shook his head.
No, Philippe wouldn’t have wanted that.
“Well, then,” Granny said, as if that solved everything.
“You must move on, my dear boy. In two years, you will be thirty. And I shall be eighty, and neither of us is getting any younger. I dread to think of leaving you alone and unhappy. This is why I must insist that you pick yourself up. Live life again. Find love.”
“I have tried,” Francis replied, which wasn’t entirely untrue. He had made half-hearted attempts at socialising here and there, at seeing other men.
In the immediate years following Philippe’s death, Francis had tried to fill the void he’d left with the love of another, but nothing had worked out.
Probably, he’d rushed into things, rather than be alone. But as the years wore on, Francis had found it easier to be alone than to truly be with anyone else.
“You need to try again,” Granny told him.
“It’s not that easy, Granny,” he said. Even if he did find somebody he could love, it was never easy. “You know Joseph doesn’t approve of my romantic pursuits,” he added.
“Yes, well, dull people are always disapproving of free spirits,” Granny said hotly.
Her staunch defence of him made Francis smile, though his smile was short lived.
“He says it goes against the holy teachings,” Francis added.
“And I have a novel solution to all of that,” Granny said. “As I mentioned already, I’ve had the time, and I summoned you here today to inform you that I have been meddling.”
“What are you talking about?” Francis asked, dread settling in his gut.
Granny beamed another naughty smile. “I dare say I’ve found you a match!”
“What?” Francis spluttered. “But, Granny, I don’t want to marry a woman!”
“Not a woman!” Granny scoffed. “I’m not dense, Francis. No, a match with a man. A king! Well, he’s calling himself king now, but he was until recently known as a sultan. And not just any sultan, but the one with all that so-called solar power. The Solar Sultan, they call him. So I’ve heard.”
Francis’s jaw dropped. He was stunned. This was a lot of unexpected information to take in at once.
“Close your mouth, dear,” Granny instructed. “You are not a fish.”
Francis snapped his mouth shut, then promptly opened it to ask, “What are you talking about Granny? You’re not talking about marriage?”
“Well, obviously not, dear. We know that’s not on the cards, even in more tolerant religions,” Granny said. “No, not a marriage, but a significant match, nonetheless. Think of it as more of a special companion. A consort.”
“To a king?” Francis asked, because he couldn’t quite believe it.
“Yes. Do you want to see him?” Granny chuckled and yanked open a drawer in the desk. “I had Gustav send me a likeness.”
“Ambassador Gustav?” Francis asked. “I thought he was retired?”
“Semi-retired, like me.” Granny held out a gold locket the size of her palm. “Go on, take a look at him.”
In a daze, Francis took the weighty locket, fumbled with the latch, and opened it up.
Inside was the expected portrait miniature, beautifully painted.
Francis wasn’t sure what he’d expected but was pleasantly surprised to see the subject was a handsome young man, probably aged around thirty.
He had light brown skin, a dark brown beard cut neatly to show his lips, and deep brown eyes.
His hair was completely covered by an azure-blue turban with gold detailing.
Maybe it was a special turban, as it was of a grand size. Probably served as a crown.
Francis had never seen sultans before, only in one or two old paintings. His clothes look wonderful, Francis thought idly.
“I think he’s quite handsome,” Granny remarked. “You wouldn’t kick him out of bed, would you?”
Francis smiled. “No, I wouldn’t.” He looked at the other side of the locket, surprised to see miniature cats painted there, playing in winding tree branches.
“What are these?” he asked.
“Oh, cats,” Granny said. “Gustav said in his letter that this fellow had over a thousand of them in his palace.”
Francis drew in a breath. “A thousand cats?”
He’d always wanted a cat, but the palace he lived in had too many hunting dogs.
“Why does he have so many cats?” he asked.
“I believe they are held in high regard in his society,” Granny replied.
“But I’m telling you all the wrong things first. Let me give you his details.
” She picked up the narrow reading glasses on a chain around her neck, setting them onto her face as she read out a letter.
“King Omar Hasim Akdemir the first. Previously Sultan. Anyway, this King Omar took over from his later father, Sultan Bayazid the third. He’s thirty-five this year, a widower from his first marriage, from which he has two sons and one daughter.
Plenty of heirs and spares. Another two younger daughters from his second marriage, wife still alive, who apparently manages the new education sector of his kingdom. ”
“He’s married?” Francis interrupted. “I thought you said he wanted a consort?”
“Pipe down and I’ll get to that, dear,” Granny said.
“Gustav writes, the king and his wife have an amicable marriage, living in separate quarters. The king’s great love was known among his court to be one of his male companions, a great poet and painter.
He unfortunately died three years ago from illness, at great distress to the king… ”
Francis felt an instant sympathy for the king’s heartbreak. How remarkable that they had both lost their loves within a couple of years of each other.
“Now his period of mourning is over,” Granny continued, “the king is looking for a new companion and is welcoming applications from appropriate households. Stipulations as follows, shared interests a must, et cetera.” Granny set down the letter and removed her glasses to look at Francis.
“We can go over the rest later. There’s to be a grand party held at the king’s palace, where he will mingle with the suitors and pick an accomplished young man to be his official consort.
I want you, Francis, to get a diplomatic party together, get on a boat forthwith, and be there.
And,” she added firmly, “I fully expect you to shine and win him over. No need to thank me. You’ll also be strengthening relations between his prosperous and rising economy and ours.
Gustav will meet you there and can handle any trade agreements or things like that. ”
“What? Trade?”
“Yes, dear, keep up,” Granny said. “It’ll do us good to make a new alliance and find out about this solar power of his.
You’re doing no one any favours languishing here, so you may as well kill two birds with one stone by consorting with someone important for our benefit.
His kingdom has some of the most reputable engineers creating fantastic new infrastructure run on natural energy, you know. ”
“Consorting?” Francis repeated, stuck on that part. “In an…official capacity?”
“Yes! Well, officially there would be some created job or title to have,” Granny said.
“Officially you would be a diplomatic attaché, or something along those lines to keep the boring stiffs happy. Unofficially, but in every way that matters, you would be his consort. But let me and Gustav worry about that, dear boy. All you have to worry about is charming the trousers off of King Omar.” She chuckled again.
“I…I see.”
“No need to thank me, just get the job done,” Granny said. “Now, let’s celebrate. I have a bottle of liqueur I’ve been dying to open. We’ll toast to your success!”
“Um, yes. Thank you, Granny.” Francis didn’t know what else to say. He hadn’t asked for this at all, but Granny had a point. He wasn’t happy here, and he needed to meet new men.
Why not try to charm a king?