For the present, he drank water, waited for the summons, and then poured all the energy he had left into dancing forShafiq, eager to please, to make easier, if only the slightest bit, whatever he was trying to accomplish here tonight.
This final dance was especially known for being sensual. Usually it was put in the middle of a performance, bringing the crowd to a climax before being followed by one to three dances that gradually cooled them off again. Paired with his costume and the setting, it was definitely not for public performance.
He was heaving for breath when he finished, dripping sweat that made him itchy and caused the shorter strands of his hair to stick to his skin. The applause was gratifying, and the sinuous way Ender approached him bearing wine was better by far.
"Beautiful performance," Ender murmured, the words only for them. "Hopefully next time we can invite you to linger. For now, though, my king wishes you a pleasant night and sweet dreams."
Jankin wondered how often a king did that, wishing others sweet dreams.
Instead of asking, he only smiled and accepted the wine, still not used to drinking from another's hands, and bowed to Shafiq before saying, "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Thank you, Master Jankin."
Jankin withdrew, smiling fleetingly at Ender, and returned to the antechamber. As promised, food had been laid out on the low table on the opposite side of the room, along with still more water and three different kinds of wines. "I wish I knew anything about these wines."
The servant brightened. "I can show you! I'm actually going to school for it, many of us do, since it's such an intricate matter, and you can't go far in the palace without knowing your wines."
"I can only imagine, just on what I've seen in my short time here so far. Join me, please. What's your name?"
"Vahid," he replied, and took a seat, pouring them both wine from the stack of many dishes set next to the carafes. "These are evening wines, meant to be drunk during or after dinner, all light to go with the food and encourage relaxation." He touched each one in turn as he added, "These are Whispered Secret, Fading Song, and Gentle Lullaby."
Jankin listened avidly as he explained the regions they came from, what was unique about those regions and the wines they produced, how they were categorized, arranged, chosen, and so much more. By the time they finished the meal, he was all but falling asleep where he sat, but between the dancing and the dinner, it had been a wonderful night. "Thank you for spending so much time with me, Master Vahid."
"Just Vahid is fine."
"Then Jankin, please. Thank you again. I will leave you to find your bed."
"I can walk with you a ways. I have to head in that direction anyway."
"Marvelous. So what do you do when not working?"
"I'm betrothed!" Vahid said excitedly as they walked through the halls. "The contract was signed just yesterday, and there is an engagement celebration being arranged for the end of the month."
"Congratulations. If you need a dancer, I'm happy to oblige for a friend."
Vahid stumbled to a halt. "Really?"
"Really," Jankin said. "If you feel you must compensate, I'm happy to have more wine lessons."
"Deal!" Vahid hugged him, which took him by surprise, as it wasn't the sort of overt casual affection he'd seen much on display in Tavamara so far.
"If you need anything, at any time," Vahid said as they came to halt where their paths diverged, "please feel free to ask for me by name. I am happy to serve as long as you require."
He'd imagine that would also be a feather in Vahid's cap, being personally requested. "I will do that. Thank you and goodnight."
"Goodnight, Jankin."
Back in his room, he had barely enough energy left to bathe before he once more fell into bed without bothering to dress.
*~*~*
It was two weeks before he saw Shafiq and the others again, at least for more than a passing glance across the hall. Dali kept him plenty busy, more than busy enough he shouldn't have had time or energy to dwell on it, but he'd thought he'd been doing so well. That King Shafiq enjoyed his dancing and wanted to see more of it. That his concubines had wanted to see more.
Yet two weeks had passed with nothing. Whatever his stupid hopes and ambitions, clearly he'd been a mere butterfly in a garden and their interest had moved on to something else. It stung, but it was his fault for being overly invested in people who would remember his performance far more than his face when he was gone.
He was grateful for the buffer Dali provided, taking requests, filtering them, and only bringing those worth his time to him. Normally he did all of that himself, occasionally with a servant or some other local hired to help him. Never before had palace entertainers just brought him into the fold and treated him like one of their own.
Even the other dancers, minus Raffa and another couple of jealous types, had befriended him, and he spent manyevenings dining with them, the actors and duelists he'd met before, and other types of performers.
