"Of course, Lord Nadir," the servant replied, fading off with a smooth bow.
Sitting next to him on the bench, Nadir asked, "So what else did you intend to do with your day?"
"I didn't really have any plans—I wouldn't know what to plan," Ender said with a laugh. "I went to the library and then my guards suggested His Majesty's gardens. Then my twin absconded with me to teach me everything about orchids."
Nadir laughed, loud and long, head thrown back to display the beautiful lines of his long throat. There was a red mark there Ender hadn't noticed before, clearly put there by an eager mouth. How would his skin taste? What noises would he make?
Why was he thinking these things about histwin brother. Ender didn't know whether to laugh or cry or throw himself in the koi pond after all.
Thankfully, the refreshment showed up then, and Nadir set it between them. "I would pour for you if I could, but that would be a severe breach of etiquette, even for me."
"I can pour my own wine," Ender said with a smile. "I'm no noble. But thank you."Thank you, brotherhe should have said, but he couldn't make that last word come out. He'd never had siblings. He didn't feel like he had one now. He didn't know how that was supposed to feel.
How did Nadir feel about all this? Was he excited to have a brother, even if there would always be the divide between them of peasant and royal concubine?
What a fascinating life that would be. It was the kind of life talked about with everything from wonder to contempt as people imagined the glamorous, easy life concubines must lead 'just because' they were beautiful.
Ender had never given any of it much thought. Now it had been set before him, though, he wondered desperately how that life would really be. Serving the king, learning dance and song and other arts, talking to so many different people at the various banquets and meetings. More time for poetry, reading in general… would Shafiq enjoy being read to? Or would he find that hopelessly boring? Even unpleasant, since Ender hardly had the polished city accent of everyone around him.
A stupid thing to wonder about—worry about—as the opportunity would quite literally never exist.
So he squashed all his stupid fanciful thoughts and questions and poured some wine. It was fruity and light, only faintly sweet, a perfect complement to the salty snacks that accompanied it. "I feel silly eating in front of you while you can't."
Nadir waved the words aside. "Trust me, I eat and drink plenty throughout the day, sitting in on meetings, lunches, everything else. Wait until you see how much food we eat at dinner. Don't worry about me."
"As you wish." Ender finished his snack and a waiting servant whisked the tray away. "What shall we do now?"
"You said you went to the library? Did anything catch your interest there?"
"Poetry," Ender replied immediately. "I hadn't been able to findStars We Gatheranywhere back home, and I also got some translations ofTomorrow, TomorrowandSorrow Finds Usthat I've never seen before." He realized how silly he must sound, throwing out titles like everyone read obscure foreign poetry, but the way Nadir's face lit up stopped his apology short.
"I have a compilation of translations forTomorrow, Tomorrow. Shafiq bought it for me a couple of months ago. It has translations from Tritacia, Petch, Rittu, and Lavarre. There's supposedly a second volume coming out that will cover Havarin, Gollen, Hodge, and Pellana, but I don't think we'll see it before next year at the soonest."
"That sounds incredible. Just all together like that for easy comparison to each other and the original. Is it as amazing as it sounds?"
"You can see for yourself," Nadir replied with a smile, and with an elegant nod of his head toward the direction of his chamber, sent a servant off to fetch the book. "Come, we'll go sit under the pergola, the breeze across the water and the shade make it perfect for such things."
Ender didn't bother to reply, just smiled and followed him back through the garden to the beautiful gazebo. It was enormous, made of stone columns and a wooden top structure, with gauzy curtains wrapped all around it, the ones in the front tied back with silk cord. Inside were settees and other bits of furniture meant for the kind of luxurious lounging only rich people could afford to do.
Nadir took one of the settees, and Ender settled on a sofa, not quite as willing to sprawl comfortably as Nadir. He wondered how many people in the palace would kill to be right where he was, even with the presence of guards to prevent acting on any of the lurid thoughts in their heads.
Not one but two servants appeared almost right behind them. Bowing, the first one then said, "His Majesty says an early dinner sounds wonderful, and he'll see it arranged. His private dining room in two hours, Lord Nadir."
"Thank you."
The first servant left, and the second handed over the requested book before departing as well, leaving them with only the guards once more. Nadir flipped the book open and paged carefully through it. "Who shall we start with?"
"How about Heather? I'd love to see the various translations ofSwan."
Nadir brightened, like a child given a present, and flipped expertly through the pages until he came to it.
So the next almost two hours went, the two of them taking turns reading poems aloud, and then verses, and that somehow led to improvising their own poem, each taking a line, building it as they went. It was a game Ender had always loved, but rarely had the time or people to play with, always busy with studies or picking up odd jobs for money.
When a bell rang, Ender startled, yanked from their idle as awareness of the rest of the world returned. "Oh, no, I neverwent to dress for dinner." The bell meant there was only fifteen minutes before the new hour, which wasn't enough time to return to his room, clean and dress, and get to dinner on time.
Nadir laughed and left his book on his settee, no doubt for someone to retrieve and put away after they were gone, and stretched as he stood up. Ender tried his best not to stare, but he'd have more luck if he tried to no longer need to breathe.
There was no way they could possibly be twins, even though they very obviously were. The man he saw in the mirror was nothing at all like the beauty before him, long and lithe, grace in every movement, so naturally sweet and charming. Shafiq was lucky to have Nadir, and unlike most people presented with something precious, seemed to appreciate that.
