She finally met his eyes, hers still feverish and frenzied. “But I would be his.”
“I think our Mehmed is smart enough to know he could never claim you. Right?”
Radu’s tone was light, and he turned to Mehmed with a playful smile. Perhaps it was the dimness of the room, or the stress of the night, but Mehmed’s face was clouded with…disappointment? Hurt? Then a tight, false smile took its place, and he nodded. Radu’s own chest felt equally tight with anxiety and fear and a twisting, bitter sense of jealousy.
He pushed it down. Assassins were after them. Lada had killed a man. They needed to move. He said a prayer in his heart, then went first, climbing slowly down the palace’s carved stone exterior to the ground. Mehmed followed, and then Lada. Radu led the way, creeping through the gardens, keeping to the deepest shadows.
“How do you know the way to the harem so well?” Mehmed said. “I think you are more familiar with the path than I am.”
Radu flushed, feeling defensive, but there was no accusation in Mehmed’s voice. “I know the chief eunuch. He has an amazing collection of maps, and I visit him sometimes. Did you know he was born in Transylvania?”
Mehmed’s tone was strained but amused. “I did, in fact, know that about the third most powerful man in my government.”
“Oh. Right.” Even when Radu had the best idea for keeping them safe, everyone always knew more than he did. He stopped outside the guard gate, a side entrance to the vast harem complex. A guard stood posted, his white turban a bright spot in the dark night. On his first trip, Radu had tried to see a difference in the eunuchs as opposed to uncastrated men, but other than their voices not being as deep as a man’s nor as high as a woman’s, he was not able to tell who was a eunuch and who was not.
The guard, whom Radu had met before, cocked his head curiously at Radu before noticing Mehmed behind him. He bowed low to the ground, then stood at attention.
Mehmed did not acknowledge him as he walked straight past. Radu nodded, and the man’s eyes followed them. Without knocking, Mehmed entered the outer apartments of the chief eunuch.
Though it was late, they had not been in the room more than a minute before the chief eunuch joined them. He was an older man, nearing forty, skin wrinkled and features indistinct, as though his face had never decided quite who it wanted to be. He bowed to Mehmed, then straightened with a smile for Radu. He took in Lada’s bloodstained appearance with a mere flick of his gaze. “How can I serve you, My Sultan?”
“I need a conference with the valide sultan. Also lodging for the night.”
“Of course. Whose company would you like?”
It took a moment for Radu to follow the easy way in which the chief eunuch asked the question. And then another moment to process what it meant. His face grew heated with embarrassment, and also curiosity. Was this— Did Mehmed come here regularly? Was he already enjoying the benefits of being sultan? How many concubines could he have amassed after so short a time? Did he have a wife already? Islam had rules about how many wives a man could have, but exceptions were made for sultans.
And what was it like, being with him? Did they love him? Did they wait every day, hoping to see him?
Radu glanced at Lada to see if she was wondering the same things. Her eyes were fixed determinedly on the far wall, a scowl set on her face. They had cleaned the blood from around her mouth and off her hands, but there were traces of it still. She looked wild and angry, nothing like a concubine. At least, not how Radu imagined them to look.
Radu pictured concubines like his nurse, matronly and soft and always sewing or fussing. He knew that was not their purpose, but whenever he tried to imagine that, everything got hazy and confused.
Mehmed’s voice was strained. “None tonight. I am here on business. Prepare a room for my companions as well. Lada will need a bath.”
“Shall I have the servants escort her to her new room?”
“No!” Mehmed’s voice came out a shout, making the chief eunuch startle. “No. She is here as a guest, not as a…resident. House us in the guard wing.”
“And no one can know that we are here,” Radu said, unsure if he was allowed to speak, but worried that Mehmed was too distracted.
Mehmed gave him a brief, grateful glance. “Yes. My business is with the valide sultan alone, and no one—not even my guards, should they inquire—is to know that we are here.”
The chief eunuch nodded, then bowed again and left the room to make preparations. As soon as he was gone, Mehmed’s shoulders slumped. He put a hand over his eyes, head hanging low. Lada had found a bit of dried blood on her hand and was furiously rubbing it against her skirts, trying to get it clean. The fact that her skirts were stained with blood did not seem to occur to her. Radu stood between her and Mehmed, not knowing what either needed, suspecting they both needed the same thing.