So you're Master Aaralyn.Guess I see what the fuss is all about.
What did that even mean?What did they see and what fuss?
The questions were still turning over and over in his mind when he found the pond.As the guard had said, there were many of the little frogs, and so many colors and patterns!An orange one with blue legs, one that was a brighter blue with black freckles all over its back.One that was green with black splotches that looked like water currents.Red with black spots.Another with an orange body with black stripes, but legs that were blue with black dots.That wasn't even all of them.
How in the world was he to draw so many?And he would need to makeextensivenotes on the patterns and colors.Perhaps he should start with that.
So he did.Pulling out his watercolors and pen, he drew every single pattern he could find—not helped as the frogs liked to jump and swim about—coloring in each one as he finished, until he had three whole pages of just the colors and patterns.His favorite was the one that had a body that started orange, faded to yellow, with black vertical bands down its length, and bright blue-green legs covered in black spots of various sizes.
Borrowing some rocks from the water's edge, careful to avoid touching the frogs, he set his watercolors to dry in the sun while he turned his attention to finally sketching the frog bodies in all sorts of poses.
"You are quite good at that."
Aaralyn jumped, crying out, tried to stand and turn at the same time, and only succeeded in dropping his work, knocking his portfolio across the grass, and nearly falling into the pond.
A guard caught and righted him, expression concerned as he asked, "Are you all right?"
"I— I'm fine, thank you.Sorry to be such a twit.I was clearly in my own head…" he trailed off, staring in horror at the man who had spoken.
The king.The king.
He started to drop to his knees, but King Shahjahan lifted a hand to stop him, even as the guard held him in place."Please, that is not necessary.I would not have you trouble yourself so.I apologize profusely for giving you such a bad scare.I did not realize you'd not heard me approach."
Next to the king was a man with sun-warmed white skin and hair so fine and pale a blond it was nearly white, drawing sharp attention to his vibrant blue eyes.He was adorned in sapphires, and wore harem black.Aaralyn had never seen any of the king's harem, he'd scarcely ever seen the king, but he'd heard that one of them was a foreign prince who'd given up a throne to be King Shahjahan's concubine instead.Looking at the man, he would believe it."Are you certain you're all right, Master Aaralyn?"
"I really am fine," Aaralyn said, hating his stupid skin that he could feel was as red as some of the frogs."I was so focused on my work, I probably would not have heard a traditional harvest festival spring to life behind me."He wanted to curl up and die the very moment he said the words.Why did he neverthink.
From the barest hint of sly grin curving one corner of His Majesty's mouth, Aaralyn did not need to explain that a traditional harvest festival in his part of the world entailed orgies.Havarin had outlawed such things—for everyone but themselves, of course—long before he'd been born.Just one of the many things he only knew about his own people through the stories of elders."So why are you drawing my wife's precious, deadly little frogs?"
Haltingly at first, more terrified than he'd ever been in his life, but with slowly growing confidence, Aaralyn explained the book he was working on for Lady Hedieh.
"That is why Fahima keeps them, actually.The temple healers learned of their usefulness in healing a long time ago, and like to always have some available, but even the private portions of the temple are not safe from stray guests who might do something ill-advised.So my jewel keeps them here, and the priests request the poison as needed."
"That is amazing, Your Majesty."None of the ruling powers in Havarin would do such a thing.Maybe keep them for their own private use, or to turn a profit, but not simply because it would help and was the right thing to do.
As they spoke, the concubine gathered up the scattered papers."Oh," he said softly."My king…" he held something out, and Aaralyn wanted to cry as he realized one of his drawings of Bakhtiar had escaped his portfolio when he'd knocked it.When was he going to learn to leave those drawings in his damned office?
King Shahjahan took it, and his face softened in a way that stole Aaralyn's breath and made him forget his terror."This is lovely," King Shahjahan said, every stitch the loving father."You've captured him perfectly.May I keep this?I can pay for it, of course."
Aaralyn was going to pass out.Possibly expire.He barely noticed as the concubine handed him his portfolio, the scattered drawings tucked neatly and safely back inside."C-consider it a gift, Your Majesty, if you like it that much.Though there must be plenty of artists who can draw His Highness much better."
"Many people have done beautiful portraits of Prince Bakhtiar," King Shahjahan replied, handing the drawing back to his concubine to hold, "but you have drawn my Bakhti, and that no one has done.Thank you.I will leave you in peace now, before I cause you further distress."He winked, motioned to a servant standing several paces away that Aaralyn hadn't even noticed arrive, and walked off further into the gardens.
The servant approached and pressed coins into his hands."For the drawing, His Majesty insists.I've never seen him smile like that with anyone other than family and his concubines.You're Mehr's friend, right?The one she calls Havarin?"
"That's me."
Giving him a sly look and wink, the man replied, "Been lots of talk about you in these halls."
"Why?I haven't done anything," Aaralyn said."Prince Bakhtiar was extraordinarily kind to me, though, is that why?I know the leg was far too much."It was truly beautiful, far and above what he would ever be able to afford himself.A combination of metal and wood, carefully crafted to be sturdy but lightweight, the actual leg portion hollow, the metal shaped into flowers and vines, each of the flowers somehow gold in color, some metalsmith technique quite beyond him.Having it was as close as was possible, it felt, to having his actual leg back.
"It does pertain to His Highness, yes.Would you like some tea or anything brought?"
"Oh, no, I would never impose so," Aaralyn said, horrified at the idea of being so impertinent.Him, demanding a servant who worked solely for the royal family in their private quarters, bringing him tea.His mother would reach across the ocean to whack him with her broom."I should get back to work.I do not want to linger overlong and get in anyone's way."
"As you wish," the man replied, and bowed slightly before striding off whistling.
Aaralyn had managed to get most of another frog done, this one diving into the water, when the man returned with a tray of tea.He winked as Aaralyn struggled for something to say."Enjoy, Havarin."Then he was gone again, his whistling fading soon after.
