Traitor to the Throne (Rebel of the Sands 2)

‘They’re afraid of you,’ Leyla volunteered. ‘They think you’ll take their place with Kadir.’

I snorted. ‘Believe me, I have no interest in your brother.’

An attendant appeared, handing me a plate heavy with savoury-smelling meats. My stomach growled in grateful answer.

‘He’s not my brother.’ Leyla’s jaw set firmly. ‘I mean, yes, I suppose. We’re both children of my most exalted father the Sultan. But in the harem the only people we call brother or sister are those who share the same mother. I only have one brother, Rahim. He’s gone from the harem now.’ She sounded far away.

‘And your mother?’ I asked.

‘She was a Gamanix engineer’s daughter.’ She turned the small toy over in her hands. Jin had told me about that country. It was where the twinned compasses he and Ahmed each always kept had been made. A country that had learned to meld magic and machines. This explained how she’d learned to make little mechanised toys. ‘She vanished when I was eight years old.’ Leyla said it so calm and straightforward it caught me off guard.

‘What do you mean, vanished?’ I asked.

‘Oh, it happens in the harem,’ Leyla said. ‘Women disappear when they lose their use. That’s why Ayet is so afraid of you. She hasn’t been able to conceive a child for the Sultim. If you replace her, she could vanish just like the others. It happens every day.’

I took a bite of my food absently, listening to Leyla talk. It hit my tongue like an ember, igniting my mouth. Tears sprang to my eyes as I spat the food in the grass, coughing violently.

‘Can’t handle our fine food?’ Mouhna called from across the garden. Next to her Ayet and Uzma were doubled over in fits of giggles as Mouhna popped a piece of bread in her mouth, puckering her lips at me deliberately as she savoured it. ‘A present from the blessed Sultima.’

Leyla picked up something red from my plate. Her nose wrinkled. ‘Suicide pepper,’ she said, tossing it into the nearest fire grate.

‘What in hell is a suicide pepper?’ I was still coughing. Leyla pressed a glass into my hands. I downed it, cooling the burning on my tongue.

‘It’s a foreign spice. My father tries to keep it out of the harem, but it’s—’ She ran her tongue over her lips nervously. ‘Sometimes girls here use it … to escape.’ It took me a heartbeat to realise what she meant by ‘escape’.

Suicide pepper.

So some folk had found a way out. It wasn’t the sort of escape I had planned. But if those peppers were coming in from the outside, there had to be a way to get things out, too. Some way for the whispers to make it through these walls.

‘Who is the blessed Sultima?’ I’d heard her mentioned already. When I first arrived. In the baths.

‘The Sultim’s first wife.’ Leyla looked up, surprised. ‘Well, not the first that he took. He took Ayet as a wife the day after he won the Sultim trials. But the blessed Sultima is the only one of Kadir’s wives who has been able to conceive a child.’

They must hate her. My aunt Farrah had hated Nida, my uncle’s youngest wife. But Farrah’s place as first wife had been secured by three sons. It was Nida who had to kiss her feet to get anything. They might be talking about the Sultim instead of a desert horse trader, but they were still just jealous wives. And I understood how these things worked. The first wife was the most powerful woman in the household – in this case, in the harem.

‘Where would one find the Sultima?’

Chapter 18

The Sultima was a legend in the harem.

Chosen by God to be the mother of the next heir of Miraji. The only woman worthy of conceiving a child by the Sultim. She kept herself locked in her rooms most of the time. Women in the harem whispered that it was because she was praying. But I remembered something Shazad had told me once: if you could stay out of your enemy’s line of sight, they’d always count your forces stronger than they were.

And from the whispers I’d heard, the harem was full of the Sultima’s enemies.

But if there was one thing I knew about legends, it was that we were still flesh and blood. And flesh and blood had to come out of her rooms eventually.

Two days after Mouhna fed me the suicide pepper, Leyla woke me up with news. The blessed Sultima had finally emerged to bathe.

I spotted the Sultima before I’d even fully emerged from the hallway into the baths. She was sitting with her back to the entrance, dangling one leg in the water, with the other braced under her, twisted just enough towards me so that I could see the swell of her stomach. Her age singled her out. I’d seen other pregnant women in the harem, but they belonged to the Sultan. He’d stopped taking wives nearly ten years back; his wives were nearer in age to him now – most had seen at least three decades or close to it. Even from afar I could tell the Sultima hadn’t seen eighteen years yet. She was running her hands over her middle over and over in soothing motions, head tilted forward in thought.

From here, the blessed Sultima looked just like any other heavily pregnant desert girl. It wasn’t so much that I’d expected her to go to the baths draped in pearls and rubies, but after all the rumours and whispers, I figured I’d get something more than a girl in a thin white khalat.

She wasn’t alone. At the other side of the water, Kadir was sprawled, wearing a loose shalvar and nothing else. He was bare from the waist up. I hadn’t thought Jin shared anything with this brother, but the aversion to shirts seemed to be a family trait. o;They’re afraid of you,’ Leyla volunteered. ‘They think you’ll take their place with Kadir.’

I snorted. ‘Believe me, I have no interest in your brother.’

An attendant appeared, handing me a plate heavy with savoury-smelling meats. My stomach growled in grateful answer.

‘He’s not my brother.’ Leyla’s jaw set firmly. ‘I mean, yes, I suppose. We’re both children of my most exalted father the Sultan. But in the harem the only people we call brother or sister are those who share the same mother. I only have one brother, Rahim. He’s gone from the harem now.’ She sounded far away.

‘And your mother?’ I asked.

‘She was a Gamanix engineer’s daughter.’ She turned the small toy over in her hands. Jin had told me about that country. It was where the twinned compasses he and Ahmed each always kept had been made. A country that had learned to meld magic and machines. This explained how she’d learned to make little mechanised toys. ‘She vanished when I was eight years old.’ Leyla said it so calm and straightforward it caught me off guard.

‘What do you mean, vanished?’ I asked.

‘Oh, it happens in the harem,’ Leyla said. ‘Women disappear when they lose their use. That’s why Ayet is so afraid of you. She hasn’t been able to conceive a child for the Sultim. If you replace her, she could vanish just like the others. It happens every day.’

I took a bite of my food absently, listening to Leyla talk. It hit my tongue like an ember, igniting my mouth. Tears sprang to my eyes as I spat the food in the grass, coughing violently.

‘Can’t handle our fine food?’ Mouhna called from across the garden. Next to her Ayet and Uzma were doubled over in fits of giggles as Mouhna popped a piece of bread in her mouth, puckering her lips at me deliberately as she savoured it. ‘A present from the blessed Sultima.’

Leyla picked up something red from my plate. Her nose wrinkled. ‘Suicide pepper,’ she said, tossing it into the nearest fire grate.

‘What in hell is a suicide pepper?’ I was still coughing. Leyla pressed a glass into my hands. I downed it, cooling the burning on my tongue.

‘It’s a foreign spice. My father tries to keep it out of the harem, but it’s—’ She ran her tongue over her lips nervously. ‘Sometimes girls here use it … to escape.’ It took me a heartbeat to realise what she meant by ‘escape’.

Suicide pepper.

So some folk had found a way out. It wasn’t the sort of escape I had planned. But if those peppers were coming in from the outside, there had to be a way to get things out, too. Some way for the whispers to make it through these walls.

‘Who is the blessed Sultima?’ I’d heard her mentioned already. When I first arrived. In the baths.

‘The Sultim’s first wife.’ Leyla looked up, surprised. ‘Well, not the first that he took. He took Ayet as a wife the day after he won the Sultim trials. But the blessed Sultima is the only one of Kadir’s wives who has been able to conceive a child.’

They must hate her. My aunt Farrah had hated Nida, my uncle’s youngest wife. But Farrah’s place as first wife had been secured by three sons. It was Nida who had to kiss her feet to get anything. They might be talking about the Sultim instead of a desert horse trader, but they were still just jealous wives. And I understood how these things worked. The first wife was the most powerful woman in the household – in this case, in the harem.

‘Where would one find the Sultima?’

Chapter 18

The Sultima was a legend in the harem.

Chosen by God to be the mother of the next heir of Miraji. The only woman worthy of conceiving a child by the Sultim. She kept herself locked in her rooms most of the time. Women in the harem whispered that it was because she was praying. But I remembered something Shazad had told me once: if you could stay out of your enemy’s line of sight, they’d always count your forces stronger than they were.

And from the whispers I’d heard, the harem was full of the Sultima’s enemies.

But if there was one thing I knew about legends, it was that we were still flesh and blood. And flesh and blood had to come out of her rooms eventually.

Two days after Mouhna fed me the suicide pepper, Leyla woke me up with news. The blessed Sultima had finally emerged to bathe.

I spotted the Sultima before I’d even fully emerged from the hallway into the baths. She was sitting with her back to the entrance, dangling one leg in the water, with the other braced under her, twisted just enough towards me so that I could see the swell of her stomach. Her age singled her out. I’d seen other pregnant women in the harem, but they belonged to the Sultan. He’d stopped taking wives nearly ten years back; his wives were nearer in age to him now – most had seen at least three decades or close to it. Even from afar I could tell the Sultima hadn’t seen eighteen years yet. She was running her hands over her middle over and over in soothing motions, head tilted forward in thought.

From here, the blessed Sultima looked just like any other heavily pregnant desert girl. It wasn’t so much that I’d expected her to go to the baths draped in pearls and rubies, but after all the rumours and whispers, I figured I’d get something more than a girl in a thin white khalat.

She wasn’t alone. At the other side of the water, Kadir was sprawled, wearing a loose shalvar and nothing else. He was bare from the waist up. I hadn’t thought Jin shared anything with this brother, but the aversion to shirts seemed to be a family trait.