Jankin sat up, shoving his hair from his face. He really should have stayed up long enough to put it up properly for the night, because now untangling and neatening it would be a nightmare. "Of course. Does he need me immediately, or do I have time to clean up properly?"
"You have time; he stressed it was not an urgent summons. I'm to escort you once you're ready. Shall I show you to the baths?"
"I would be grateful." Jankin gathered what he'd need and followed the servant down the hall to a beautiful bathing room, probably sufficient for the entire hall, judging by the size. That was generous. The last palace he'd visited, there had been one bathing hall only slightly larger than this for the entirety of the staff.
He bathed and dressed as quickly as he could, and a little more than half an hour later was following the servant through the halls, trying not to gawk like someone who hadn't traveled most of the world. Still, Tavamara was a beauty of its own, like nowhere else he'd ever seen.
Eventually, they came to what was obviously a training hall. Naheed saw them and lifted an arm to beckon them over. The servant bowed and departed, and Naheed slung his arm across Jankin's shoulders. "Come, come." He led him across the room to where an imposing woman was watching some acrobats practicing a routine. "Mistress Dali, I have my promised dancer."
She gave Jankin a thorough looking over. "You're certainly pretty enough. Let's see you dance, and maybe I'll find a place for you. I've already trialed five dancers this morning, and I've at least ten more coming later, so don't waste my time."
"Mistress," Jankin said. "What music will I dance to?"
She waved her hand at a troupe standing nearby. "They know just about everything. Tell them and let's begin."
Jankin considered his options and approached the musicians with a fairly common Rittuen piece, something he'd heard played just about everywhere. They smiled and nodded, and Jankin took up position where Dali indicated.
As he had in the square, he danced his best. He didn't know how to do anything else. This piece was less energetic than the dance in the square, which had been about being colorful and loud, catching attention in a place already overflowing withnoise and color, standing out in a place where everyone else was striving to do the exact same thing.
This dance was far more technical, displaying skill and discipline, all that he was capable of, that he had mastered over a lifetime of dedication.
When he finished and bowed, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected applause, rising to full height to see that the rest of the room had stopped to watch him. In a room of performers, he'd captured their attention. That was certainly pleasing to his ego.
"Well, my lord, you did not lie," Dali said. "For once in your life."
Naheed grinned mischievously. "I have my moments, mistress. So you'll find a place for him?"
"Of course. Master Jankin, I will send word when I have you on the schedule. If you'll come by later this afternoon, we can schedule your practice times."
Jankin bowed again. "I am honored, Mistress. Thank you."
Dismissed, he left Dali and Naheed chatting. Could he find his way back to his room himself? How much of the palace could he explore before he accidentally went somewhere he shouldn't? What would happen to him if he did? To judge by the imposing, nigh on ominous looking guards posted at regular intervals along practically every single wall, he didn't want to find out.
Eventually, he found his way to a beautiful chamber, a perfect circle with an enormous statue of a handsome, regal woman adorned in colorful clothes and glittering jewels. Around her was a large pool divided into four quarters, the space between them made into walking paths so one could go right up to the statue. There were plants everywhere: around the statue, framing the pools, trailing down the walls, along the edge of thecircle… The water made the room cool, cooler than the rest of the palace he'd seen so far, and the ceiling above had colorful glass panels that cast splashes of rainbow about.
Taking a bench, he sat to rest and simply admire. One entrance led to the palace, and the other seemed to lead out to gardens or something. So different from other places he'd been, where any entrance was staunchly guarded, and very limited sections were open to the public, the rest blocked off and trespassers not treated kindly.
Resting his head against the wall, he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the breeze, the gentle trickling of water, the fresh scent of plants and flowers.
A deep voice that sent shivers down his spine. What.
Jankin opened his eyes and swept the room—and froze, breath catching in his throat. Well, then. What a sight to behold.
The man was enormous, an absolutewallof beautifully sculpted muscle and gold-toned skin. His hair was braided, stopping just between his shoulder blades, and there was a thick, heavy collar around his throat that suited him perfectly and invited all manner of illicit thoughts. There were cuffs at his wrists as well, and a gold chain looped around his hips. He wore black pants overlaid with a black skirt that was slit all the way to the hips. He was also bare-chested.
This was one of the famed royal concubines. Mercy. No wonder everyone talked about them so much.
He must be the one they'd called the Jackal, the one who used to be a fighter or something. He certainly looked it.
Currently, the man was speaking with a couple of people that seemed to be nobility. Around him, protective and ominous, were royal guards. Bodyguards? That made sense. Even leaving aside how beautiful the man was, how beautiful all the concubines must be, it was their access to the king that put them in the most danger. They had information that people could onlydream of accessing, not to mention that as someone important to the king, they were also a weakness to use against him.
Must be difficult, to live knowing at any moment you could be kidnapped or killed just for the sake of hurting someone else.
Jankin closed his eyes again, going back to relaxing, until the voices moved on and all was quiet again. Then he stood, stretched, and carried on with his explorations, taking the path into the gardens.
They were extraordinary, lush and colorful, so vibrant with flowers and plants, birds and insects, water running and trickling everywhere, such a stark difference from the endless sands that Tavamara was famed for. He saw more than a few flowers that were from Rittu, including several colors of hibiscus.
Including his favorite, a rare type that was blue with green and white streaks, called a peacock hibiscus. He reached out to gently touch the underside of one petal with the side of one curled finger. Back in Rittu, he'd often worn them while he danced.
