"You have not heard Lilua's voice, my King?" Takri asked, incredulous.
"Your cousin is mute," said Mahleck.
"I don't understand," said Takri. "When we were children, I would tease her that she spent more time talking than breathing."
"Marriage must agree with her then. She has not uttered a word since the day Baraz bound her to me," said Mahleck. "She is gentle and silent. If only all wives were as awestruck of their husbands as she is."
"If only all men could be like you are, my God and King," groveled Baraz. "Few know how to instill fear and respect in women as you do."
The farther the eunuchs led their charges from the Court of Women, the colder the hallways became. Luka led the procession down empty halls, holding up his hand to signal his brother if anyone approached. Floryan walked closer to the two young women, carrying Lilua's instrument in one hand and his club in the other.
"Do you believe we are in such danger you must be armed when escorting the Locust's women in his own house?" asked Nasreen.
"It is night and the men of the Swarm are often addled by wine," said Floryan. "Some even find solace in the milk of the poppy or kanab. While most men simply use these to aid in sleep, others lose their fear enough to attack any woman they lay eyes on. Sometimes they become confused as to what is Mahleck's and what is not."
"I would think they would fear the wrath of the King," said Nasreen.
"Most of these men are only living to die, fodder for Mahleck's endless wars," said Floryan. "They believe there is no other purpose. They will never wed or have a family. The families they had are already dead. They are dangerous, stupid, and lecherous. In any case, it is better to be armed after dark in the palace in the company of women, especially if you are only half a man."
Nasreen glanced at the girl who walked silently beside her. "If I am to stay here, princess, I hope we can be friends."
Lilua did not answer.
"The Princess Lilua does not speak," said Floryan. "Luka believes she exists half in this world and half in the realm of spirits. She has seen the worst of the strigoi-viu and yet lives. If this is a blessing or a curse, I do not know."
Nasreen felt her heart pounding in her chest. Given a choice between a half life and death at the hands of the strigoi-viu, which would she choose? Was there a choice to be made?
The two eunuchs came to a halt before a door.
"This is the place you will dine with the royal house. I will announce you to the King," explained Luka. "Then Lilua will enter first as she is higher in rank. Follow her lead. Keep yourself veiled unless someone requests you to remove it. Do not speak unless you are asked a direct question. Keep your eyes downcast. Speak softly, do not challenge or disagree with anything said by anyone on the other side of this door. You have been trained by the Procuress in the arts of entertainment and hospitality, have you not?"
Nasreen nodded, her heart in her throat.
"Good. Follow her lessons. We shall stand guard outside and escort you back to the Court of Women." Luka dropped his voice to a whisper. "May the Lady guide your steps and your words, Nasreen of Adyll."
Nasreen straightened herself and took a deep breath. She pushed her shoulders back, willing her muscles to relax.
Luka opened the door.
"The Princess Lilua of the Narim, favored bride of the God-King, and Nasreen of Adyll, Daughter of the Temple," announced Luka. He stepped to one side, allowing the women to enter the room.
Nasreen followed Lilua, who took two steps into the room before prostrating herself on the floor. Nasreen followed her example, keeping her eyes downcast. She could tell there were three men in the room besides the two brothers who had escorted them.
Takri. Is he here? She willed her heart to stop racing as she lay on the floor. A chill came over her. Her gossamer clothes were not made for an evening spent in early winter's open air. The smell of fruit caused her stomach to rumble.
She could hear the sound of a fire crackling. Then, boots on carpet. A voice, not Takri's. Someone else.
"Ah, the most long awaited part of our celebratory meal!" the voice laughed.
Mahleck. She recognized him now. She had only heard him speak while addressing the crowds at the temple where he was imperious and commanding. In this setting he sounded calm, intimate, even cajoling.
She heard the door shut behind her. Floryan and Luka had left.
"Takri, come away from the window. No need to stare at the moon all evening when we have such beauty in our midst." called Mahleck. "Come, greet your cousin. And I believe you are acquainted with the Adyllian whore called Nasreen?"
Takri is here, thought Nasreen. Relief flooded through her and was instantly replaced by more anxiety. Takri did not call for me. Mahleck did.
"Lilua, Nasreen. Please. Rise and join us," said Mahleck.
Nasreen could hardly breathe. Lilua rocked back onto her heels from her prostrate position and stood, head ever so slightly bowed. Nasreen followed. She hazarded a glance from under her veil at the inhabitants of the room. Mahleck. The high priest Baraz. And Takri. He stood a few feet from the table, expressionless, his eyes darting frantically between Nasreen and his cousin.
"Takri, are you not pleased? I heard you were quite taken with this specific whore when you arrived in the city." The King gestured for her to approach him. Nasreen complied.
"I... I... I am only surprised. I had not expected to see her here in the palace," answered Takri.
"Good. Nasreen, take off the veil so I can see why the Lord Prince chose you when he had pick of any woman in Adyll," said Mahleck, motioning her to come closer.
Nasreen complied, taking the veil from her face, and wringing it in her hands for a moment before remembering her lessons. The holiness of the Lady is reflected in the beauty of women. Walk in beauty and be not afraid. She willed her muscles to loosen as she walked towards the monster.
Swaying hips. Shoulders down. Movements meant to show her form through the gossamer silk. Each step tinkling with the golden bells adorning her wrists and ankles. Graceful. Gentle. Beautiful. Just as she had been trained.
She stopped two paces from the strigoi-viu.
"I thought she would be... something more than a common whore, Takri," Mahleck sounded disappointed. "Something elegant, or otherworldly. If you wish to keep her here, you may. But if you want to send her back to the brothel, I will understand. She seems like the sort who would be better used by the soldiers than one of your position. Was she your first?"
Nasreen felt tears well up in her eyes. Why did these cruel remarks from a cruel man sting? She should be grateful he found her unworthy of notice. She might live to return to the temple where she belonged. She glanced up at Takri, who let out a breath.
"Yes, sir. She was my first," he answered.
"That is why you were so taken with her!" laughed Mahleck. "All men think their first is special."
"There are far more beautiful women in the brothel," said Baraz. "I don't see why he chose this one."
“I would have to agree, Baraz.” Mahleck rose from his seat to inspect Nasreen more closely. "Her hair is too short. But even if it grew out, the curls would cause it to be too unruly. Her hips are too wide, as are her breasts. And she holds herself too proudly for one of such common blood. I am sure you will enjoy your wine maiden so much more. She is at least of noble blood, unlike this common prostitute."
"Yes, of course," said Takri.
"At least we can feed her before we send her back to the brothel. I have heard famine is in the land," laughed Mahleck. "Come, Nasreen. You can sit beside me so you can boast to the other whores when you return that you sat at the right hand of God."