Chapter 5
Chapter Five
KAMARAN
Kamaran waited until the strains of music had completely faded away before he allowed his face to relax, dropping the easy, charming smile that he had worn as a mask for the previous hours.
He knew better than to hope that his exit from the party would go unnoticed and it was likely that he would receive a reprimand from Zamar later, but in that moment, he didn’t really care.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt as he strolled down the wide hallway, loosening the ties that held it in place.
The cool breeze that brushed against his skin was a welcome relief.
The room had felt warmer than normal, though whether that was due to the number of people in attendance, or rather the fact that his matrimonial prospects were both present and on the prowl, he wasn’t entirely sure.
Despite his reputation as being something of a flirt, he had never desired the attention of more than one woman at once.
Having six of them vying for his favor was both uncomfortable and overwhelming, especially as every interaction was now under even more scrutiny.
It was exhausting, and it didn’t help matters any that the dull, ever-present ache of grief in his chest took so much mental energy to ignore that there was little left for small talk and social niceties.
Distant voices echoed down the hall behind him, and the high-pitched giggles that accompanied them had him ducking into the next door he came to. He closed it slowly, careful to ensure the latch clicked softly, then pressed his ear to the heavy wood, waiting to see if the voices would pass by.
A throat cleared behind him. “What if I wanted that open?”
He startled at the feminine voice, smooth as silk and laced with just enough sarcasm to pique his interest, but recovered quickly, turning slowly on his heel to face the unexpected occupant of the room.
The fire in the hearth cast a warm light over the room, chasing the shadows of nightfall to the edges.
A woman sat, tucked into the corner of a divan, with a pile of fabric on her lap and a needle in one hand.
She looked up, meeting his gaze just long enough for his brain to trip over the smooth reply that was about to come out of his mouth.
Her eyes were a deep brown that would put the decadent chocolates he had just sampled to shame, and they flashed with an unspoken challenge.
All too soon, her attention dropped back to her lap.
“Did you?” He asked, unable to find a more intelligent response.
She pushed the needle through the emerald fabric and the light glinted off the gold thread as she pulled it taut. She kept her eyes focused on her work as she answered, “Well, I did have it open before you came barging in here. I’m going to let you put the pieces together there.”
Kamaran blinked, both surprised and refreshed by the fact that she didn’t even pretend to care that she was sassing the most powerful man in the Adhavi Empire.
The voices in the hall he had been avoiding grew louder as they approached the door, then passed by and faded away into silence.
He waited a few moments, then cracked the door just far enough to confirm the coast was clear.
“Leave it open when you go.”
He hesitated, fingers still wrapped around the handle.
He could leave now. He should leave now—the last thing he needed was to be caught alone in a room with a young woman while he was supposed to be courting the pre-approved misses of the Queen’s Contest—but there was something about her that made him want to know more.
He turned, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall beside the door. “Who are you?”
She looked up, long enough this time for him to fully appreciate the defined lines of her face. Dark, expressive brows were raised in a silent question over her captivating eyes, and the corners of her full, rose-colored lips were turned down. “I thought you were leaving?”
“I was just opening the door like you asked.” Kamaran glanced meaningfully at the sliver of light that filtered in from the bright lamps beyond.
“You and I have very different definitions of ‘open.’”
“I’m pretty sure the only definition that matters around here is mine.”
“Oh? Are you rewriting the Adhavian dictionary? You must be a renowned linguist.” She went back to her embroidery.
He propped a foot against the wall behind him and his head tilted to the side as he studied her.
She held herself with the confidence that accompanied money and power, and even from across the room he could tell that her dress was finer and better made than any of the gowns he had seen on the contestants that evening.
He had never seen her before, which meant she must be there for the contest, only…
“You weren’t at dinner.”
“I could have been.”
Kamaran slowly shook his head. “No, I would have noticed.”
“Really?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you a master of guest lists as well as being a renowned linguist?”
“You’re here for the Queen’s Contest, right?”
She let out a long sigh. “So it seems.”
Kamaran mentally ran through the list of all the women he had been introduced to that evening.
They all shared such similar physical characteristics that after a few, it was hard to remember which pair of brown eyes and head of dark hair went with each name.
Laila, Fatima, Nour, Aliyah, Yasmin, Inara…
but was there supposed to be one more? He pressed his lips together in a frown.
Zamar had given him the list of contestants, but like nearly every document that fell into his hands, he hadn’t read it.
Why bother when the letters would get so jumbled that he wouldn’t understand a word of it anyway?
He shoved the morose thoughts away, choosing to focus instead on the much more interesting puzzle that was in front of him. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
“And we won’t be.” The woman craned her neck as she took a long look around the room. “There’s no one here to make the introductions. In fact, the two of us being here alone makes any introduction highly improper.”
He pushed away from the wall, testing the waters by moving a step or two toward her. “Was that your plan?”
It’s certainly one way to gain the advantage. By skipping the dinner and welcome festivities, she’s kept herself out of her rivals’ lines of sight, and while they had to share my focus, she has my undivided attention.
Her face twisted with distaste as her eyes flashed. She wielded her needle like a sword. “Absolutely not. If you recall, you’re the one who trapped himself in here.”
“So you admit that I’m trapped.” He moved forward another step.
“Your mind obviously is. It’s the only explanation as to why your common sense hasn’t been able to make its way out yet.” She waved the needle threateningly. “Along with your sense of self-preservation, it would seem.”
Her words were punctuated by a low growl, and Kamaran stumbled back a step as a furry head lifted out of a pile of pillows on the other end of the divan. A sand-colored creature with ears too large for its head and a triangular snout stared him down, lips curled back to reveal sharp, pointed teeth.
He shook his head, certain that he was imagining things. “Is that…a fox?”
“No,” she answered tartly. “It’s a comfort-seeking nuisance with ears. You should know Zade’s just as concerned about my comfort as he is his own, so unless you want me to use this needle to stitch you up, you should keep your distance.”
He held up his hands as he slowly backed away, returning to his position beside the door. The fox followed his movements with unwavering intensity until satisfied that he was no longer a threat, then lowered its head back down to the pillows.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
She gave him a flat look. “A word of advice, then: don’t shut yourself into a room alone with a woman and then accuse her of entrapment.”
A shallow laugh escaped him, and he scrubbed a hand down the side of his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I think we started this whole thing off on the wrong foot.”
“I accept your apology, Your Majesty, and I agree.” She nodded sharply.
“I should have introduced mys—” Kamaran froze midsentence as her words finally registered. His jaw dropped. “You know who I am?”
“Of course.”
The infuriating woman was back to her embroidery, as cool and unruffled as if she were speaking with a friend in the marketplace.
“You…you threatened me with a needle!”
“You deserved it.” She glanced up just long enough to catch his eye and give him a pointed look. “Don’t make me take back my acceptance of your apology.”
Who is this woman?
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said on an exhale. “Since you already know who I am, are you going to finish the introductions?”
“I don’t know. If I tell you my name, will you leave?”
Kamaran smirked, shifting back into the comfort of shallow flirtations. “Are you hoping the mystery will keep me here? I will admit, I’m intrigued.”
“Quite the opposite. I was hoping for a bargain. I tell you my name; you leave.”
“And if I want to stay?”
She heaved a sigh as she stabbed her needle into the fabric and gathered it into her arms as she stood. “Then I will leave.”
“No, no.” Kamaran reached for the door, strangely anxious to do anything to wipe the annoyed grimace from her face. “You were here first.” He waited a beat. “Your name?”
“It’s Rana,” she answered, shooing him out the door. “Now go. I’m sure you have some sort of royal duty that demands your attention.”
“Rana,” he repeated softly. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
She hummed in acknowledgement as she looked up with mischievous eyes. One brow lifted. “It was a meeting.”
Kamaran laughed, the first he could remember in a long while, as he stepped into the hall, careful to leave the door open behind him. There was a new energy to his step as he walked, and the air somehow seemed lighter.
Maybe this contest wasn’t such a bad idea after all.