Chapter 3
Chapter Three
RANA
“Excuse me, sir, but I need that.”
The oversized ears of the fennec fox curled up on the pile of fabric twitched as Zade lifted his head and blinked innocently.
“Move.” Rana sank down onto the low sofa beside him and poked him with a finger.
He yawned, showing off the tiny, needle-sharp teeth in his adorable, pointed snout, and slowly rose to his feet. He stretched, then wandered four steps to the side where he plopped back down on the sofa cushion with an offended huff.
“Yes, well, not all of my fabric and yarn is put here for your enjoyment, Your Highness.” Rana lightly booped his nose, a gesture that he accepted with a slow, long-suffering blink. “Some of us work for a living.”
“Perhaps if you found a nice man to talk to instead of a furry creature, you wouldn’t be working at all hours of the day.
” Rana’s grandmother, Teta, lifted a pointed eyebrow as she entered the sitting room and placed a tray with a steaming pot of tea and delicate, hand-painted teacups on the low table in front of the sofa.
A plate of treats accompanied it, and Rana’s mouth immediately started watering at the sight of the small, jewel-toned squares of candy.
“Perhaps if I found a man as easy to talk to as a furry creature, I would consider it,” she countered as she picked up a bundle of emerald green silk.
Intricate patterns of gold thread swirled over a portion of the fabric, with her current area of focus stretched taught over an embroidery hoop and practically begging to be adorned.
“Besides, this isn’t work work. This is purely for my own enjoyment. ”
Teta shook her head. “I worry about you, child.”
Rana reached over and popped a piece of Adhavian Delight in her mouth, relishing the sweet, slightly floral taste as she pulled a new length of gold thread through her needle. She considered the pattern on her fabric with a critical eye before pushing the needle through. “Why is that?”
“You sit in that shop and sew all day, then come home and do more of the same. You need to get out more.”
“For the record, I’m not sewing right now. I’m embroidering.”
“Rana.”
“Teta.” She lifted a brow in challenge. They had performed some variation of the same conversation enough times that Rana knew how it would end:
She would promise to think about finding opportunities to experience the world outside the tiny sphere of home and work, and her grandmother would let the matter drop with a grumble about never seeing any great-grandchildren.
Teta capitulated early, leaning back in her rocking chair with a sigh. “What are you working on this time?”
“A dress.” Rana lifted the embroidery hoop high enough to allow the skirt to fall in a cascade of silk.
Her grandmother leaned forward and fingered the fabric appreciatively. “It’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it? Khalil—one of the merchants that Dan works with—was able to get it at a great deal, and as soon as I saw it, I knew it needed to be a dress.” She sighed happily as she reached for another square of candy.
“It will be fit for a princess,” Teta agreed before adding hopefully, “What’s the occasion?”
“The occasion is that I wanted to wear a beautiful dress.” She gathered the fabric back onto her lap and resumed stitching. “There doesn’t have to be a reason.”
“So this isn’t your way of telling me that you’ve submitted your name to the Queen’s Contest?”
Rana’s nose scrunched in distaste and she shuddered dramatically. “Heavens, no.”
“Ah. An old woman can dream, I suppose.”
“Even if I did, there’s no way the judges would allow a seamstress to participate.”
Teta snorted, helping herself to a square of candy.
“You may be a seamstress by trade, but your blood is just as worthy and respectable as anyone else who might enter. Let’s not forget that my Ali was a vizier and your father’s father was the head of the Merchant Guild—not to mention the fact that your employer’s wife is a foreign princess. ”
“All of which, I’m sure, pales in comparison to the fact that I work for a living.
” She held up a hand as her grandmother opened her mouth to argue.
“Which I am perfectly happy with, as I’ve said before.
Besides, entering the Queen’s Contest comes with the risk of being married to the Sultan, and I don’t think either he or I would be very happy with the arrangement.
He wouldn’t know the meaning of a day of hard work if it hit him with a camel’s spit. ”
“Maybe the two of you could learn from one another.”
Rana shook her head. “I don’t think I want to learn anything that he would be able to teach me. Besides, it doesn’t even matter, since I won’t be participating.” She looked at her grandmother sharply. “This whole conversation isn’t your way of saying that you submitted my name, is it?”
Teta brightened. “Was that an option?”
“No.”
Zade lifted his head at her raised tone, looking back and forth between them before standing, stretching, and curling himself up again against Rana’s leg.
“He’s a handsome, intelligent man. Your children would be beautiful.”
Objectively, Rana could agree with the first part of Teta’s statement.
The Sultan was every woman’s dream—or at least, what she assumed was every woman’s dream, based on the number of gushing reports she had heard over the years—with thick black hair, dark gray eyes, and a smile that was rumored to make women swoon on sight.
“I didn’t realize the attractiveness of my future children was a consideration,” she responded drily.
“I just want to see you taken care of. I’m not going to live forever, you know.”
“I am taken care of.” Rana ran her fingers absently through Zade’s soft fur. “That’s what the job is for.”
“I’m speaking of your heart, not your body. There is more to your well-being than what money can buy, child. When I’m gone, who will keep you company?”
“Can we stop talking about your death?” She stabbed and pulled the needle with a little more force than was necessary.
“It’s inevitable.”
“But not imminent.”
Teta leaned forward, placing a soft hand on Rana’s knee. “But it will happen, and when it does, I don’t want you to go through it alone.”
“I won’t be alone. I’ll have Aida and Dan.”
The house suddenly echoed with a loud banging from the front door. “Rana!” Jasper’s voice rang out.
“And Jasper,” Rana added as she set her project to the side and stood.
The banging continued as she left the sitting room and crossed the tile floor of their pleasant, modestly sized home.
She pulled the door open just as Jasper’s fist was about to make contact.
He stumbled forward a step with the momentum and was only kept from falling as Spot grabbed a mouthful of his shirt.
“Can I help you?” she drawled.
He straightened, giving her an offended look. “Why didn’t you answer?”
She gestured to the open door and leaned a hip against the frame. “I did. I just didn’t bellow like a water buffalo spotting an oasis. Now, how can I help you?”
Jasper pulled a missive out of the pocket of his dark blue vest and handed it to her. “Here.”
Rana looked at it curiously, noting that the scarlet wax that bore the royal seal had already been broken. “I think you can get in a lot of trouble for opening other people’s mail, Jasper.”
“Oh, it wasn’t for you,” he responded breezily, resting a hand on Spot’s head. “I was supposed to give it to Dan.”
“Then why do I have it?”
“Because Dan told me to give it to you. He said you’re much better equipped to handle this one.” Jasper clasped his hands behind him and rocked backwards on his heels. “Aida agreed.”
Curious, Rana unfolded the missive and began skimming its contents. Her brows lifted with every word until she reached the end with a loud exhale. “Of course she did.”
She heard Teta’s shuffling steps approaching behind her, and her grandmother’s voice at her elbow asked, “What is it?”
“A summons from the palace.” Rana folded the letter along its original lines.
“And?” Teta’s voice was eager.
“And it seems they want a seamstress after all.”