Dey was giggling. She wasn't supposed to be giggling, but her mistress was unusually laid-back, cold but not cruel. Peeking from behind a curtain that hung in a doorway, Dey happily expressed herself. It wasn't until Jorun walked over to her and shooed her off that Inka could find the necessary silence.
The new Empress Consort sat on a tall wicker chair. Her turban was sparkling with gemstones. Rows of necklaces were on her collar. Rather delicately, her ankles crossed as Jorun returned to serve her a cup of tea.
Kneeling before Inka, there was a single guard. His name was Kishor.
"I'm not an all-powerful being," Inka coolly said after she took her sip of tea. "I can't swear that Dey will be safe at all times, but I can swear to protect her to the best of my abilities."
"I'm eternally grateful for your care towards her, Your Majesty," Kishor said in his gruff voice.
"I'm certain that when Dey reaches her proper age, marrying her off to you will be highly satisfying. I'll gladly provide her with marriage gifts." Once a servant was hired, that servant was generally required to stay until a certain age (normally around twenty-five), and at that time they may leave and even marry. "Now that I've happily offered my services, would you be willing to do something for me? Something that's unfortunately dangerous?"
Nodding very deeply, Kishor the guard said, "I'm more than willing."
Another bit of tea. The cup was emptied. There wasn't much tea in the first place. It was more of a way to display her authority before the guard. Jorun took the cup and saucer away. "Several doctors have given me incense with many intriguing scents," the Empress said.
After Jorun had put the cup and saucer aside, she took a slim box and handed it to Kishor. Inka went on, "As for the doctor who gave me these particular incense sticks, I want you to learn as much about him as possible, and be secretive. We can't let anyone know what you're doing."
Kishor opened the box. Inside, there was a bundle of incense sticks and a piece of paper. The paper had the name of the doctor written on it.
"Once you've memorized the name, I demand that you burn the paper inside that box," Inka said as she picked up a hand fan with a bamboo handle. She fanned herself quite elegantly as she continued, "But take a single stick of the incense for your own studies, if you must. I'll store the remainder."
And that was that.
Later, Kishor had been given written permission from Empress Inka to leave the palace for a time. The reason he gave was that he wanted to see a family member, and that was what was written in the paperwork. He was visiting a family member, nothing more.
As the days floated away, Inka had very pleasant and easy-going moments, but she soon figured something out.
The days were too pleasant.
Empresses typically had important things to do on most days, not only secretive things.
***
Lavanya Patelrao, the Empress Dowager, was tugging on Empress Consort Inka's pale wrists and trying to urge her to an open spot on the floor. "Come, come now! You've studied so well!"
Inka didn't give many words, but she did try to dig her bare heels in the rug. From a short distance away, she heard her husband call out with glee, "Don't insult my mother with your headstrong side!"
They were in Nitishila's apartment. Inka's little family wanted her to show off the dance moves she'd learned over time. The Dowager was the most persistent. "Don't be a shy thing, Little Calf! Show your husband how beautifully you dance!"
As Inka stood there, watching the Dowager prance back to her seat, a few musicians came and started a few cautious notes. Inka purposely chose not to look up at Nitishila's face. She knew he was likely grinning, but she thought if she saw those teeth her face would radiate heat.
Well ...
She forced her toes to loosen up.
Took a breath that felt amazingly cold for the weather.
And she rose an arm.
And danced with the now more confident music. Nitishila understood that she hadn't been taught this style ever since her toddler years. He wouldn't take any offense with her poor performance.
In the middle of a twirl, Inka wondered to herself why she even cared what Nitishila thought of her dancing. There were a few short glimpses of Nitishila's happy face. Inka's brain screamed at her to not be bothered. Continue with the dance. Smoothly move the feet. Use foresight when arranging the fingers. Bend the torso as if little effort is involved. Feel free to let the jewelry slide around the limbs and clang.
When Inka tired of it all, she went to her knees and bowed. The musicians assumed that meant it was time to stop, but they remained in place so they could start another song when asked. Inka was looking down at the rug that had cushioned her feet when she heard loud applause from her husband and mother-in-law.
"You were so graceful," the Dowager said.
"Such a unique little beauty," Nitishila said.
Getting back to her feet, Inka pushed a bracelet down to her wrist. The dance had forced it up. "Assuming those words aren't flattery, I have my skilled mother-in-law to thank. This is all because of her meticulous coaching."
"That's fine, all fine," Nitishila said, "now come and sit beside me."
Inka stayed close to Nitishila during the rest of the Empress Dowager's visit. When the cheerful mother-in-law finally left the couple, Inka asked for a cup of water. She was quite thirsty. When she reached for the cup, Nitishila quietly stole it away, which made her look up at his face.
Nitishila's eyelids lowered a bit, and then he said, "Don't strain yourself." Then he held the cup to her lips.
That was an almost nonsensical thing for him to say. He knew Inka was sturdier than she looked, and she'd just danced! Inka knew he knew she was sturdy. He'd said as much to her many times. As she drew in the cool water, she assumed he was in one of his more affectionate moods. Her assumption was proven fairly correct when he asked for a tray of sweets, and when it arrived, he chose to hand feed her.
The young Emperor rolled small pancakes of rice batter and coconut milk, and he dipped each pancake in an icing, shaking the excess away. He put them in Inka's mouth and told her fanciful, playful things. Then he moved on to a pile of gooey sugar and butter balls coated with poppy seeds. These things had an interesting texture. Inka told him so, and he smiled as he used his thumb to catch a seed that had fallen into the corner of her lips.
When it was time for the sweetened and fried gram flour, Nitishila used a little spoon and fed the tiny things to her. Inka thought they looked like shiny bugs, but they tasted very nice. She even confessed her thought to him. He laughed, his chest shaking against against her, and told her, "I've had glazed ants before."
The urge to make a disgusted face was so strong, but Inka was very disciplined. "I'd rather lick soil from the ground than eat an ant."
"Then I'll have to be certain that you never have to resort to such unpleasant foods." He put an arm around her waist and gazed down at her eyes. "Have you been burdened by your new position?"
She shook her head. "I wish that were so. You've been so preoccupied most mornings. I even worry that you'll lose weight." She lightly touched his arm. "Won't you share a fraction of your paperwork? You're aware of my proficiency, and an Empress shouldn't have a fully idle life."
Letting his nose skim over her cheek, giving her more of his heady scent, her husband replied, "Most Empresses shouldn't live that way, but my Empress is different."
"How so?"
Peacefully smiling, he tapped the tip of her nose with his first finger, then the second, and finally the fourth. "She's mine. That's how she's different."
Turning to pretend that a hanging poetry scroll was interesting, Inka sighed.
"Hm?" Nitishila touched her jaw and turned her head back to face him. His eyebrows were higher than before. "Don't sulk, Dear. I'm only keeping you in good health."
Inka pointed her teal eyes down to his beard covered chin. "You'd prefer an Empress that plays all day long."
She felt the hand at her waist swirl and caress her. "Is this not a fine strategy? A more relaxed life is good for a woman trying to become pregnant."
"But what of a man trying to impregnate a wife?" Inka took that hand on her torso and pulled it away. Then she pushed her seat, and herself as a result, a few inches away from him. "If a man has too much work in his hands, his body will respond to his brain. It's best for both parties to share what work there is, to ensure that neither one is overwhelmed."
Nitishila made a harsh little growl, reminding her of Indu. Then he gripped her upper arms and put his brow to hers. If there weren't any attendants nor servants around, he might have kissed her mouth. Inka knew because of how his dark eyes burned and how his tongue swiped out for a second. "You might not believe me, but I'm also rather proficient. Be at ease."
A twitch formed in his cheek.
Inka pretended to agree with him at that moment, but she knew she had to open the discussion again at a later time.
She chose the night, when they were alone in his bedroom.
Nitishila had likely not expected it at first. He'd slid a flattened hand under her pant's waistband and kissed her cheek. Yet Inka stopped him with a question.
"Have you been trying to pacify your detractors by denying me any power?"
Nitishila gripped one of her buttocks. Inka's belly retracted. She put her cheek on his chest. She felt his breath still, then felt it swell and rush out.
"I ... I don't know why wife would say such a thing."
"Shouldn't you? My servants are loyal and don't insult me, but they hear the gossip. Many people consider me to be a Life Eater. Priests have been making public ceremonies, loudly praying to the gods that I'll be kept in line."
Almost in a reflex, his fingers squeezed her buttock a little tighter. "You're overthinking. Give your mind its well-earned holiday."
