16. Hevva considers the moon.
sixteen
Hevva considers the moon.
A fter dinner, Hevva took tea with the ladies while the men enjoyed their port. The dowager had planned an array of evening activities, including an impromptu musicale in the theater, a variety of cards and other diversions in the games room, and charades in the grand parlor.
Having avoided the receiving line the night before, the countess made her way over to Dowager Queen Alva, who wore a deep purple, pale lace, and floral-patterned silk gown. She stood near an open swath of wall papered in forest green with cream, lace-like embellishments. Hevva would bet her annual income the dowager queen selected her outfit to complement the room. She’d picked her post and would let the guests come to her. Reaching the royal, the countess dipped into a contrite curtsy, in case the former monarch noticed her breach of propriety at the opening ball.
“Lady Hevva Tilevir.” The dowager’s eyes softened ever-so-slightly.
“Your Majesty.” Her thighs, burning from too much drink and too long in bed the night before, vibrated beneath her dress.
“You were a guest of my son’s at Hewran Hall last month, yes?”
“That is correct. We found the stay quite enlightening.”
“Mm. Your brother was with you?”
“Indeed, Lord Kas is the reason I attended the symposium, but I cannot say I regret it.” She could, actually. And she did, sort of. If only she’d not met Saka, and Saka hadn’t dragged Berim out from the shadows, the past few weeks would have been a different, far tamer creature to manage. “Rohilavol is a beautiful town, and I found myself quite inspired by my recent stay. I’ve several new projects to implement in Kabuvirib.”
“Were you able to visit the solarium while at the hall?”
Hevva tried to breathe through the heat rising in her cheeks, but she found no way to avoid the blush, so she leaned into it. “I was! Such a lovely space, Your Majesty. Did you have a hand in designing it? I must admit, it was quite warm in there. Even the memory is drawing a flush to my face!”
The dowager cocked a brow. Though graying, the arch of it was so like her son’s that Hevva felt her blush deepen. “I filled in a few plants while it was my home, but it was my paternal grandmother who made it what you see today. I’m glad you enjoyed your stay. I’ve heard my son, Ehmet, is a pleasant host.”
“That he is.”
Luckily, the Duchess of Rohapavol's sister approached the dowager queen, dropping into a curtsy so low, Hevva thought she’d toppled over for a moment. She nearly reached down to help the lady up, before realizing it was an ideal time to escape. Dipping her chin at the dowager, with a perfectly proper smile pasted upon her heated face, Hevva slipped away, beelining for the opposite corner of the room.
She made it through tea, and then Lady Hevva used the shifting of activities to slip away. Around the palace she wandered, exploring the lower level of the gargantuan library with its upper balcony, and its walls lined with books. A small hallway led from the library into a spacious but cozy salon, which she obviously poked around with great interest.
The clacking of billiards balls and muffled conversation drifted on a curl of cigar smoke through the space beneath a door.
Mmm, nope.
She ducked back into the tiny passageway and considered her options. A spiral staircase to her left surely led to that illustrious balcony, but the closed narrow door to her right beckoned her over with vigor.
Hevva tried the handle, and it opened. Slipping into the dark room, she closed the door behind herself. Moonlight filtered in through a crack in the drapery on the other side of the small space. She crossed slowly and drew open the curtains, swathing the room in a silvery glow.
It was some unused salon, or office, devoid of anything aside from a large woven rug, an empty bookcase, and a mirror.
It wasn’t the sort of space where she could glean any new ideas to bring home to Stormhill or Kabuvirib. The library would be good for that, but dull. A solarium would be good for that, but unwise. So, she stayed put, determining that she didn’t need any new ideas at all, at the moment.
Hevva stood in silence for several minutes, listening to the ticking of a tiny bubble caught in her throat. She swallowed time and again, but it would not go away and was promptly joined by the whispering voice of Saka, whining about Berim. So, she circled the small office, circled it again, and then gave up and lay down on the floor.
Flat on her back with moonlight shining on her slippered toes, the lady stared at the unlit chandelier above her for a long while. Eyes unfocused, incoherent thoughts racing, and pulse thundering, she had no choice but to ride out the waves of uncertainty and confusion coursing through her. Deep breaths.
Eventually, she got her strange body under control. Exhaling a slow whisper of air, Hevva forced herself to stop, and think.
What the fates is wrong with me?
That’s as far as she got before the door banged open and scared the life out of her.
“There you are,” his voice rumbled over to her like a carriage whose coachman had vanished. It smashed into her chest and did funny things to her body.
The place between her thighs pulsed. “Here I am.” She tilted her head back to look up at him. Ehmet’s upside down body filled the doorway. How he’d found her, she wasn’t certain. But the countess couldn’t say she was angry, more perplexed than anything else. Saka on the other hand was ecstatic. He wore the same dark trousers and shoes from dinner, and the same white shirt, but his jacket and cravat had vanished. The man was enchanting .
“Come with me.”
She sat up and turned to face him. “You mean you weren’t coming to spend time in this beautifully unfurnished space?”
He chuckled. “This is the queen’s office.”
“Your mother’s office?”
“No. It was never hers.”
“Oh.”
“Come with me,” the king repeated and offered her his hand.
Though she was perfectly capable of standing on her own, Hevva pressed both of her hands into his big palm. She let Ehmet curl his fingers closed and pull her up. She should’ve known he would yank her with too much force, so she barreled into his chest. Maybe she did know, and that’s why she let him help her in the first place.
Ehmet held Hevva and didn’t release her for a few moments, with her two hands and one of his squeezed between their chests and his free arm firm against her back. She left her nose where it had landed, right in the crook of his neck, breathing in his delicious oaky scent mixed with the lightest hint of salt from the sea air. He released her.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
“Come on.”
She allowed him to escort her, properly of course, with her hand tucked daintily into his elbow. They promenaded back through the library, and up the wing toward the crowded part of the palace. Hevva tensed her fingers and paused. “No. I’m not in the mood for socializing.”
“We’re not going there, we’re going up...” He dragged her forward a few steps. “. . . here.” Then the king grabbed an ancient-looking handle on an ancient-looking door, so ensconced in shadow that Hevva hadn’t noticed it on her way down the hall earlier.
“What’s up there? Guest rooms?”
“On the next two levels, yes. We’re going past that.”
He beckoned her ahead up the dark tower staircase, and she went. Hevva stumbled, bumping her toe on solid stone. She cursed.
He laughed. “Sorry, sorry, just hold on one second.” A thunk made her look back over her shoulder. Ehmet had barred the door from the inside.
Before she could ask him about it, he made a glowing orb, like the one he’d set down in the wine cellar.
While her face heated from the embarrassment she’d brought upon herself the night before, Hevva searched for a distraction in the orb. It floated up the stairs ahead of her, so round, so glowy. She couldn’t help herself, reaching out and poking the solid object, jostling it in the air. “How do you do that?”
“I’m not entirely sure.” He chuckled, breath hot on the back of her neck. “I had a fantastic tutor. Hothan calls it chaos. Instead of manipulating the elements, I’m using chaos to create illusions. Physical manifestations of whatever I imagine—temporarily, of course. I don’t know how I create light, honestly. My tutor couldn’t make anything luminescent.”
She considered stopping her ascent abruptly, just so Ehmet would run into her back, and she could feel that deep rumble of his voice against her skin. “It’s the moon!” she realized with a start as they passed the door to the first landing.
Hevva could hear the grin on Ehmet’s face when replied, “It is, and you said it looked like the bum of a lightning bug.”
“To be fair, I was very deep in my cups.”
“Yes, from cooking wine.”
“No!”
“Yes.” He laughed so hard that he had to pause on the stairs while she continued upward. Luckily, the moon stayed with her.
The countess pursed her lips, and stomped past the door that would lead to the second level of guest rooms. It had been barred from the inside. “What is this?” She doubled back to meet him on the landing.
“That’s typically called a ‘lock.’”
Hevva ignored him. “Are you going to hold me in some tower or something?”
“Not unless you want me to. No. No one uses these stairs or the level above, where we’re going.”
“Oh.”
“Oh.” He pumped his brows, and she smacked him on the chest, but not too hard.
She continued up.
“Is that all right?” he inquired, directly behind her once again.
She nodded, unable to speak. Where was he taking her? And who was taking her?
The top floor of the wing was disconnected from the rest of the palace, save entry from that single locked stairwell. Lady Hevva couldn’t help the shiver of torrid anticipation that ran through her. The situation was beyond scandalous, they weren’t at the symposium where rules seemed to bend and break, or up and vanish. If someone finds us here ...She gulped.
Ehmet guided her to a closed door, same as the rest, and stopped behind her.
“All right, close your eyes.” He stepped up and raised one huge hand to engulf her face, while the other turned the handle. “Walk forward.”
She did.
“Stop riiiiight now.”
She did.
The king removed his hand from her eyes, but left it resting on her shoulder, big and heavy and comfortable. And as Hevva’s brain processed what she was looking at, she nearly sobbed with joy. The lady did let out a small gasp of delight.
Ehmet had somehow brought Rohilavol to them. She stood with him now, atop the platform where they’d been crowned and handed pints after winning the race. The same cobbled street, the same crooked homes greeted her. But no people leaned out of the windows, cheering for them and watching . Instead, a magical violin played itself at the far end of the room, its lilting tune drifting through the enchanted space. When Ehmet raised his moon, to hang against the deep blue ceiling, her mouth dropped open at the sheer splendor of it all.
The king brought his other hand to warm her empty shoulder and give her a squeeze. Sighing, he rested his chin atop her head and took in the same view. The gesture sent waves of heat coursing through her bones.
“This is lovely,” she murmured, voice belying little of the awe consuming her. No one had ever done something like that for her. A bouquet of picked flowers? Once or twice. A free drink? Several times. Not this splendor. Never anything so grand, so thoughtful.
“Do you like it, then?” He sounded almost uncertain, and it made her pout, for she had made him feel badly—probably by killing Berim.
“Oh, very much,” Hevva gushed, letting her feelings flow.
“I know you were missing Berim.”
Ah, yes. It was the murder. Hevva shared a small, wan smile with herself before turning around to face him, forcing Ehmet to drop hold of her shoulders. She missed his touch the instant it was gone. “I know. I’m sorry.”
He ran a thumb over the line of her jaw. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”
“Yes, I do. I was ridiculous last night. I spilled your wine. I was a petulant brat. I said things that I—”
He shook his head, urging her to shut her mouth. And then, to reinforce the point, he kissed her soundly.
When he drew away, leaving her lips sizzling from the contact, she stared at him. “Who...which one are you?”
“Who do you want me to be?”
Hevva couldn’t answer, because she didn’t know. Instead, she looked around the transformed space and enjoyed what he’d made for her.
“How are you doing all of this?” She moved herself to stand beside him, gesturing at the road, the homes, the violin, and the blasted silvery moon.
“There’s an entire room of frozen candles next door.”
“What?”
“Do you want to see it?”
“Yes, I want to see it.” She rolled her eyes like he was an idiot for even asking.
He kissed her again, a quick hard peck. Then Ehmet grabbed Hevva’s hand. “All right, come on.”