The captain unlocked the door and jerked her head. "Come on, then. His Majesty is busy."
Four guards fell in around them as they left the detainment area. Jail? He didn't know what it was called, really, when it was in the middle of a royal palace.
If he'd thought the parts of the palace he'd already seen were beyond beautiful, they were nothing compared to the areas he was in now. Mirrors, gold, even more plants… The walls were made of white stone in most places, but in a few the stone seemed to have soft, barely there rainbows within, like flecks of opal. Everywhere was the smell of green things, blooming flowers and fresh water, a faint hint of incense. The tiled floors were interspersed with rugs so soft he could have slept on them. Statues of all sorts of materials, precious vases, busts, and more.
Throughout, every hall was lined on either side with stone-faced guards. For many city guards, the ultimate achievement was to be recommended for royal guard, and only a small handful of those recommended actually gained the coveted promotion. Before he'd become so disgusted and fed up he'd quit, Berkant had hoped for it himself. Even now, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have such an important post, to live and work in the palace, never have to worry about a roof and food, to live somewhere so beautiful and safe. The people here had probably never seen so much as a single rat in their life, let alone come home to several of them prowling around for literally anything to eat.
They finally came to a stop at the end of a narrow hallway that seemed slightly removed from the rest of the palace, quiet and still when the rest was full of people, mostly servants, bustling about getting ready for the day.
The captain knocked on the door and, as it slid open, stepped inside and spoke quietly for a moment. She then returned to the hallway and jerked her head. "His Majesty willspeak with you. Do I need to warn you about what will happen if you dare to misbehave in any way?"
"No, I think I'm pretty clear on what my misbehavior has gotten me so far," Berkant said dryly. "Captain."
Sighing, the captain replied, "Get, then."
Utterly bemused by the situation, Berkant stepped into the room and knelt on the small rug placed for that purpose. The captain came in behind him and slid the door shut, probably standing in front of it in case Berkant tried to bolt, which honestly was even stupider an idea than attacking anyone. Not that he was interested in any such thing.
He bowed low, and kept his eyes on the floor, even when His Majesty, who had an absolutely beautiful voice, soft and warm, what Parvaneh would have called a comforting tenor, finally spoke. He'd never had call to retain the very basic etiquette lessons about going before a monarch, but he knew you were supposed to keep your gaze averted. "So you are the notorious Jackal. Many here have wondered what became of you after you vanished so abruptly from the ring. My wife, may she rest in peace, had been hoping to commission a private show fight here for our anniversary. What is such an esteemed figure doing consorting with criminals?"
"With respect, Your Majesty, that is an old wound I do not feel like tearing open. Suffice to say that grief and mourning got the better of me, and I no longer enjoy the attention." He never really had; he'd just liked the thrill and challenge of a good fight.
"You will answer—"
"Enough, Captain Bahiyya. If someone demanded I talk about my late wife to satisfy their curiosity, I would refuse as well."
Berkant looked up before he thought better of it, catching a bare glimpse of a breathtakingly handsome man before he jerked his head back down. He'd forgotten. With one thing andanother, he had forgotten for a moment that His Majesty had lost his wife as well. Stupid of him, for Her Majesty had been highly regarded. Parvaneh had admired her greatly.
"What was this altercation with one of my guards?" the king asked. "Captain Bahiyya has given me a rundown of events, but I would like to hear your version in full."
He would? This man was nothing at all what Berkant had expected of a king. "There isn't much to tell, Your Majesty. The guard in question brought me water. He made jeering comments about how I don't look much like 'that fighter'. He touched me, then pulled the necklace from under my shirt. I asked him to leave it alone, as it was a gift from my late wife. He said it looked like contraband and yanked it off, placing it in his pocket. I flattened him and took it back."
"Then locked yourself back into your cell," His Majesty said. "I do not think I've ever heard of a prisoner who locked himself up when the opportunity for escape presented."
Berkant snorted a laugh. "Not much of an opportunity. There were at least fifteen guards in the detainment area alone, nevermind all those filling the hallways, and I have no idea where the entrance is, as it was dark when I arrived and beating a man for being a child-trafficking bastard is exhausting work."
"Yes, let us turn to that. You may look up, Master Berkant, I'm not going to take offense to being looked at, especially as we are conversing."
Though he found that extremely hard to believe, given how angry nobles could get at being stared at by riff-raff when they were in the city, Berkant wasn't going to disobey an order when he heard one, no matter how nicely it was said.
He'd almost been happier staring at the floor, rather than gazing on the handsome man across the room. Hardly shocking that a king would be beautiful, but it still made his heart flip in his chest in a way he hadn't felt since the day he and Parvanehhad met. It wasn't a sensation he wanted to experience again, especially not for theking.
King Shafiq, only child of the late king and queen. They'd borne two others, but one had died in childbirth and the other just months after birth of illness. The whole kingdom had been relieved when Shafiq had not just survived, but flourished. At present, he had no wife and only one child, which was of great concern to many.
Looking at him, Berkant could not imagine he lacked for offers. The women must line the halls, surely. He would certainly be tempted to try, if he was a noblewoman.
Gods, he needed sleep.
"Tell me your tale, by your pleasure," King Shafiq said. "I am intrigued by all that I have heard so far."
"I rent out my skills as a bodyguard. Ratti is a cretin, but he pays well and mostly doesn't try to make me do anything except the job I'm hired for. I kept his stupid ass alive. He's always dealt exclusively in smuggled liquor. Takes it around to pleasure houses, reputable and dubious, and a few private homes. A lot of those places overlap with traffickers, I know that much, but he's never had anything to do with that, or so I thought. I made it clear when he hired me for regular work that I don't tolerateanythinginvolving children, and that if I caught him involved in such, I would not react kindly."
"You certainly kept your word," Shafiq said. "Captain?"
"We're still investigating, but my assessment is he speaks honestly. He's an accessory, by law, and the few incidents on his record were all dismissed as self-defense. At most, six months hard labor."
King Shafiq drummed his fingers on the table, then picked up the small cup of tea near his hand and sipped from it. Hadn't he recently taken a concubine? Or was that just wild city gossip? Surely it must be, because if Berkant was a royalconcubine, he wouldn't miss a single opportunity to lift anything to that man's lips.
Gods above, he was losing his mind. Since when did he think such ridiculous things about anyone, let alone theking.Maybe Ratti had gotten in more blows than Berkant had realized at the time.
