"The cities flourish from the efforts of the country," Shafiq said. "Every part of Tavamara is equally important and vital. Do the city folk think their crops appear out of thin air? That the many fruits that become their precious wines grow on city streets? They should have more respect for the hard lives that make theirs easier."
Ender slowly looked up and smiled, stomach flipping hopelessly again. If he'd ever thought about it at all, he would never have guessed that the king himself, the most powerful man in the kingdom, who had probably never known anything but every luxury Tavamara could offer, would be so understanding, would defend him and his peers so. If only all the asses at school could hear him. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"It is I who thank you, for coming so far on such little notice, only to have your life thrown into disarray and still be unfailingly kind and understanding. Your parents should beproud of the son they raised, and your birth parents, were they still alive, would have been happy to know you grew into such a fine person." He motioned to one of the guards standing against the wall, so silent and still that until this moment, Ender had forgotten they were there.
He backed away from the table and bowed low, then rose and bowed again, before following the guard from the room. If he couldn't resist a last glance back at Shafiq and Nadir, couldn't help the slight curl of longing and envy as he watched them embrace, well, that was his problem to deal with. Who knew, maybe now he was here in Tavala, in the royal palace of all places, he'd find someone.
In the hallway, the guard spoke briefly with two others and a servant before motioning for Ender to once again follow him.
Ender didn't know what he'd expected. A room in the palace, certainly, given the circumstances, but something more akin to… oh, he didn't even know. His dorm room at university. Something even more general than that, where he had a bunk in a large room.
He certainly did not expect to be led through not one, but two sets of locked and guarded doors, through halls that put the rest of the palace to shame, and to come to a stop in front of a door carved with all sorts of flora and fauna further accented with gold leaf.
This seemed more like something that belonged to a noble.
"Is this…" He hesitated, not wanting to be rude, but surely this was a mistake. "Is this the right room?"
The guard's mouth curved in the briefest, barest hint of smile. "His Majesty has declared you are his personal guest and to be treated accordingly. This is the right room, Master Ender. You will also have a personal servant assigned, and if they've notarrived ahead of you, they will arrive shortly. The royal wing also has staff on duty at all hours, should you require anything at any time." He bowed, handed over a small, beautiful key affixed with a teal and gold tassel, and departed.
Not certain what to make of anything anymore, feeling very much a country bumpkin, Ender opened the door and stepped inside.
The first thing that struck him was the scent of water. Both fresh water, just like the fountain in the pavilion, and also the sharper, mineral heavy water used for baths. Mixed with it was the scent of fresh flowers, which was nearly as shocking as the water. Back home, only the temple boasted flowers, and not in this profusion. He didn't know where to look first: the room overall was decorated in greens and blues, with accents of orange and pink. The room was enormous, bigger than his parents' entire house. The back half had a bed, lounging area, and an open archway that led to gardens, where he could just see the fountain responsible for the fresh-water scent.
The front half had a working area, with table, chest, drawers, shelves for scrolls and books. In the other corner was a bathing area, the bath itself as large as the bed. So much space. All for one person? All forhim? What was he supposed to do with it all?
He stood in front of the door, feeling every speck of dust, every smudge of dirt, every patch in his old clothes and the grime caked in his travel-worn boots. What was someone like him doing in a room like this? Being the long-lost twin brother of a royal concubine really didn't seem explanation enough.
On the other hand, even he knew that politics were a deadly game, and he was a sudden, expected vulnerability. How to hurt the king? Hurt his concubines. How to hurt them? Hurt the brother one of them hadn't even known he'd had until an hour or two ago.
Suddenly exhausted, Ender mustered the dregs of his energy to strip out of his dirty clothes and scrub thoroughly clean before sliding into the wonderfully hot bath. His soap smelled like jasmine, his hair soap like roses and honey, both softer and creamier than any soap he'd ever used in his life.
All this because he looked like a royal concubine.
It was only as he started to climb out of the bath that he realized he didn't have anything to change into. He'd only brought the bare necessities, mostly because he didn't have much more than that, and he hadn't thought he'd be staying long. What could a king possibly need of him that took more than a few minutes?
If only he'd known.
Thankfully, the momentary problem was solved as he looked around and noted the trio of robes hanging at the edge of the bathing area. He'd just shrugged into one when the door opened, making him freeze, as though caught out at something.
"Good afternoon, Master Ender! My apologies for arriving so late," the man said, bowing low. "His Majesty charged me with securing clothes for you, so I went to attend that first, and it took longer than I expected. I am sorry."
"No reason to be sorry," Ender replied. "I appreciate all the help I can get. Did you say clothes?"
"Yes, sir. I've obtained these—" He motioned to the bundles of colorful fabric clutched in one arm, "—for the interim, and arranged for a royal seamster to come take your measurements for more suitable clothes."
"That seems… an awful lot of effort for a mere guest."
"You are His Majesty's personal guest," the servant replied, as though that explained everything. Which it did, really.
"Thank you, then. What's your name?"
"Raia, Master Ender, and it is my honor to serve you. Let me just set these aside, and I'll attend your hair if you like."
Ender didn't have the courage to ask what was wrong with his hair.
As it turned out, his hair was only the start. Once that was trimmed and brushed and oiled and whatever else to Raia's satisfaction, his nails were attacked, hands and feet, though he couldn't deny he liked the beautiful blue lacquer Raia applied. He'd never worn anything like it. After that was creams, oils, and Raia muttering to himself as he took notes on things that mystified Ender.
By the time Raia was satisfied with all his efforts to polish Ender up, or so Ender assumed that was the goal, he could barely keep his eyes open. It wasn't even dinner time, or was only just, but he was too exhausted to be hungry.
