scared and alone, was always unbearable. Princess Zehra had taken it more calmly than anyone else Euren had seen, but even she had looked like a terrified child.
Part of her would miss the illicit thrill of smuggling, of breaking laws that she was sworn to uphold as a princess, but mostly she was relieved the danger and stress and occasional death would be well behind her. She was going to be too busy to worry about it, anyway.
Gulden's soft touch drew Euren from her thoughts; she smiled at the soft kiss pressed to her mouth before Gulden began to wash her using a soft cloth and a sweet-smelling soap made in the village about a day's ride from the monastery. Nearby, Asli and Canan had settled down in their roughhousing and shifted to bathing each other instead.
Sometimes she still could not believe these women were hers, had chosen to spend their lives as her closest companions. She was the only child of a soldier, meant someday to become Captain of the Guard. No one had ever anticipated she would become the most powerful woman in the country. Assuming, of course, she and Ihsan didn't end up killed or imprisoned, which were rather large assumptions given she'd spent the last five years in hiding to avoid those very things.
It was so much easier to be a smuggler.
Gulden moved away far enough for Euren to duck beneath the water and wash away suds and soak her long, dark, heavy hair. When she came up, it was Asli and Canan who began to wash her hair, scrubbing and rinsing it thoroughly. Returning to shore, she sat still while they dried her hair and combed it out, then braided it and pinned it up at the back of her head. If the entire process was heavily impeded by bold fingers and eager mouths, well, she certainly had no complaints.
They had just returned to the water to wash their own hair when the sound of someone rushing down the hill drew their attention. Clambering out of the water, the three concubines surrounded Euren—two in front, one beside her to drag her away to safety should something go wrong.
But it proved only to be Ferit, a senior monk and the one who spent the most time with them. "Guests have arrived to see you, Highness. They say they've come on behalf of Prince Ihsan. Desert men."
"Desert men? We'll come at once. Thank you, Ferit." When he'd gone, she shrugged into her robe while the others did the same and gathered up the bathing supplies. "What in the world has Ihsan done now, do you suppose?"
Asli hefted one of the baskets and led the way up the hill, throwing a brief smile over her shoulder before she focused on the climb. "If I had to guess, I would say it's the escort he mentioned in his letter."
"Madness," Euren muttered.
"You're the one who married him," Canan said with a grin.
Euren snorted. "I'm not likely to forget that."
Canan and Gulden laughed.
Back in the monastery, they hastened through the back halls to their room and quickly dressed. Euren pulled on a long skirt, teal and white in a diamond pattern and scattered with gold and silver flowers. The top was teal with white, gold, and silver flowers. It left her midriff bare, showing off the large white flowers and blue birds she'd had tattooed when she'd come of age. She shook her head when Gulden offered the jewelry box—no need to dress up that much for a simple meeting, especially when nearly everything else was packed.
Gulden, Canan, and Asli were all dressed in dark blue pants that shimmered faintly; they were fitted at the waist and ankles but loose otherwise. Their chests were bare, as was the custom with concubines unless the king or queen preferred otherwise.
"Have your knives?" Asli asked, spinning her own before tucking them away in special folds in her pants. Over the years of their exile, Asli had taught Euren how to be a princess, and Euren had taught her how to fight like a soldier.
Euren touched the places where her own were hidden. "Yes. Let us go see what these desert men want so badly they would leave their
Part of her would miss the illicit thrill of smuggling, of breaking laws that she was sworn to uphold as a princess, but mostly she was relieved the danger and stress and occasional death would be well behind her. She was going to be too busy to worry about it, anyway.
Gulden's soft touch drew Euren from her thoughts; she smiled at the soft kiss pressed to her mouth before Gulden began to wash her using a soft cloth and a sweet-smelling soap made in the village about a day's ride from the monastery. Nearby, Asli and Canan had settled down in their roughhousing and shifted to bathing each other instead.
Sometimes she still could not believe these women were hers, had chosen to spend their lives as her closest companions. She was the only child of a soldier, meant someday to become Captain of the Guard. No one had ever anticipated she would become the most powerful woman in the country. Assuming, of course, she and Ihsan didn't end up killed or imprisoned, which were rather large assumptions given she'd spent the last five years in hiding to avoid those very things.
It was so much easier to be a smuggler.
Gulden moved away far enough for Euren to duck beneath the water and wash away suds and soak her long, dark, heavy hair. When she came up, it was Asli and Canan who began to wash her hair, scrubbing and rinsing it thoroughly. Returning to shore, she sat still while they dried her hair and combed it out, then braided it and pinned it up at the back of her head. If the entire process was heavily impeded by bold fingers and eager mouths, well, she certainly had no complaints.
They had just returned to the water to wash their own hair when the sound of someone rushing down the hill drew their attention. Clambering out of the water, the three concubines surrounded Euren—two in front, one beside her to drag her away to safety should something go wrong.
But it proved only to be Ferit, a senior monk and the one who spent the most time with them. "Guests have arrived to see you, Highness. They say they've come on behalf of Prince Ihsan. Desert men."
"Desert men? We'll come at once. Thank you, Ferit." When he'd gone, she shrugged into her robe while the others did the same and gathered up the bathing supplies. "What in the world has Ihsan done now, do you suppose?"
Asli hefted one of the baskets and led the way up the hill, throwing a brief smile over her shoulder before she focused on the climb. "If I had to guess, I would say it's the escort he mentioned in his letter."
"Madness," Euren muttered.
"You're the one who married him," Canan said with a grin.
Euren snorted. "I'm not likely to forget that."
Canan and Gulden laughed.
Back in the monastery, they hastened through the back halls to their room and quickly dressed. Euren pulled on a long skirt, teal and white in a diamond pattern and scattered with gold and silver flowers. The top was teal with white, gold, and silver flowers. It left her midriff bare, showing off the large white flowers and blue birds she'd had tattooed when she'd come of age. She shook her head when Gulden offered the jewelry box—no need to dress up that much for a simple meeting, especially when nearly everything else was packed.
Gulden, Canan, and Asli were all dressed in dark blue pants that shimmered faintly; they were fitted at the waist and ankles but loose otherwise. Their chests were bare, as was the custom with concubines unless the king or queen preferred otherwise.
"Have your knives?" Asli asked, spinning her own before tucking them away in special folds in her pants. Over the years of their exile, Asli had taught Euren how to be a princess, and Euren had taught her how to fight like a soldier.
Euren touched the places where her own were hidden. "Yes. Let us go see what these desert men want so badly they would leave their
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