Pulling out paper and the finest ink he had, which was still no comparison to the beautiful red ink Shafiq had used, he stared for several minutes before slowly, carefully, writing out a poem that answered—he hoped—everything Shafiq had given and asked in his own replies.
When it was finished, and the ink well-dried, he folded and sealed it, and went to find a servant who would see it delivered directly to Shafiq.
Then he went and drank down the rest of his wine, called for more, and tried to find something with which to distract himself while he waited to see what happened next.
*~*~*
Unfortunately, no reply came that night, though Nadir wasn't terribly surprised, given how busy Shafiq was.
Instead he got a letter from his sisters' caretakers, asking if he would come see them. Nadir looked over his schedule for the next several days and wrote to reply he would, along with the day and time. He next wrote a note to Shafiq's office to keep them apprised of his whereabouts.
After that, he was left with nothing much to do. So strange, to go from a life where he never had enough time to accomplish everything to one where all he had was time and nothing to do with it.
Sighing, he went for a quick bath and then pulled on clothes suitable for a late-night stroll in the gardens.
The night was cool without being unbearably chilly, unusual for this time of year when some nights could bring frost. Insects buzzed and hummed, and the air was perfumed with the myriad flowers filling the garden, punctuated by the fresh water in the fountains.
Words tumbled softly through his mind, but he was content to let them do so for the moment, see what came until he finished his walk and wrote them down before going to bed.
He paused by one of the fountains, this one of women spinning and washing clothes and doing other chores, to stare up at the stars and half-gone waning moon. Comparing stars to jewels was a cliché, but it wasn't hard to see why people were so fond of the description. The whole sky was like a tapestry made—
A discreet cough made him jump, even as he realized he knew that cough. Turning, he smiled in greeting at Vamri, Shafiq's personal servant, the one who always seemed to be sent to fetch him when Shafiq wanted an audience.
His heart trip-trapped. Did… did Shafiq want an audience? Now, in the dead of night? His skin prickled, a shiver racing up his spine. Surely not. "How can I help you?"
Vamri smiled but did not say a word, only pressed a finger to his mouth. He tilted his head in a silent question.Will you come?
Gods grant him mercy, his heart was going to stop. Nadir dipped his head in a slow, deep nod.
Vamri's smile widened, and he motioned for Nadir to follow him.
Rather than out of the garden, he headed further into it, finally turning onto a smaller side path that led to one of many nooks and crannies for people who wanted some semblance of privacy without entirely breaking protocols.
Nadir barely kept from exclaiming audibly when from there, Vamri unlocked and pushed open a door that was well-hidden by copious amounts of vines and flowers.
As they stepped beyond the door, his breath caught. The public gardens were beautiful beyond compare, but these gardens… the private royal gardens were like stepping into a bard's tale. Even in weak moonlight they were breathtaking. He wished he could see them by the light of day.
Then again, if Shafiq was requesting such an inappropriate audience… then maybe… just maybe…
Nadir couldn't even bring himself to think it. He was half-afraid that if he did, he'd ruin any chance he had of his fragile hope coming to pass.
Vamri led him to a small, almost whimsical alcove in the center of the garden, where he then faded off, leaving Nadir to venture on alone down the steps and across a small stone bridge over a little stream that circled the alcove. In the center was a dais shrouded with gauzy curtains, and beyond them were seats and benches, a table set with wine and food and softly burning candles adding warm, cozy light.
Sitting on one of the lounging benches, long, wide, and deeply padded, meant for sprawling—or cuddling, though Nadir's face flushed at the idea of doing such a thing—was Shafiq. He looked up at the sound of movement, and the pensive look on his face turned to one of surprise as he hastily stood. "Nadir!" He sighed. "My pardon. Lord Nadir, what are you doing here?"
Mortification shot through Nadir, fire and ice all at once. "Your servant, Vamri, asked if I would come. I thought you…" He bowed low, face burning. "I apologize for—"
"No, don't go," Shafiq said, the words blurted out with a startling lack of grace. He took a step around the lounger, and then stopped. "It's true I did not request they bring you here,but it's also true I was lonely and wishing that I could. It's only that I would never commit such a rude breach of etiquette, especially where it concerns a person who is already dealing with so much upheaval and strife, and is, most would say, in a prime position to be manipulated. I refuse to be so crass." He smiled crookedly. "Well, almost. I could not resist responding to your poems, though I realize it was rude of me to read them without permission."
Some of Nadir's tension eased—or rather, turned into an entirely different kind of tension. "I don't mind," he said softly. "I had hoped my reply would convey that."
"It did. I've been trying to keep the matter discreet, but I'm not surprised my staff is several steps ahead of me, as always. Come, sit. Would you like some wine?"
Nadir gave a nod to the wine, but hesitated about the sitting. There were plenty of options, but…
But for once in his life, he was going to do whathewanted. What madehimhappy. Even if that meant being so brazen his mother would murder him where he stood. Gathering his nerve, he sat on the open side of the lounger Shafiq had reclaimed, swinging his legs up and moving in close, so they were not quite touching. He couldn't bring himself to recline, not quite yet, but he was more than happy to sit beside Shafiq, staring down at him, feeling very much like a concubine here to serve his king's every whim.
The idea left his head spinning like he'd imbibed an entire carafe of potent Hushed Whispers.
