Chapter 23

She waited until she was sure Ivan had left, until she heard the familiar sound of the heavy doors opening and closing. She didn't mind Medina's footsteps drawing near and began to immediately try to get out of bed.

"I need a change of clothes," she asked in the same breath while drying her tears.

Medina put her hands on her shoulders and tried to hold her down. She had heard the argument, every word, but didn't understand her urgent need. She desperately tried to talk her out of whatever this new plan was.

"Lady Alex, you can't. You're injured. Please, you should rest."

"I'm fine," she said waving her off. She knew the dizziness would come and go, the nausea might impede her pace only a bit, but she'd just have to deal with it.

"A change of clothes, please," she asked again. "I need to speak Chezem."

"But it's already late. You're already in enough trouble as it is. If you're caught outside this late now, it'll only arouse suspicion."

Alex pushed her back harder, still determined on her decided course of action. Whatever trouble she'd get into didn't matter anymore.

"So what," she shouted back. "How could I care about punishment when Alvah's hurt because of me!? Let me go!"

"You say you're unhappy because one of the princes was injured because of you. Will you not be content until you lead the rest down the same path?"

Medina's eyes grew wide. She let go of her arms, stepped back and bowed her head. Alex turned on the figure enraged. But for once, her lhead beat her mouth and she stayed quiet the moment her eyes fell upon the approaching royal figure. It was the woman that ruled the harem, Lambert's mother, and as close to a queen as one could get. She stared Alex with cold eyes and the same sharpness that had been in her words.

"What is so urgent that you would ignore this maid's warning and seek out Chezem?"

Alex sighed and swallowed.

"I know that he and Alvah are close. I wanted to apologize to Chezem that his brother was injured because of me."

She kept her gaze lowered and her voice steady. It wasn't a complete lie but she didn't trust this woman with the whole truth. She didn't trust the way she looked at her with contempt. She didn't trust her air of complete authority. She didn't trust the way she spoke to her, constantly putting her on the defense. She'd rather take Lambert at his rudest behavior than deal with this woman.

"Is that all," she asked, clearly doubting her.

"It is."

Even if they both knew it was a lie, Alex wouldn't give in. That was one shield she was thankful that polite society had given her. Any lie was tolerable as long as it was said with the proper mores.

"And that could not wait until morning," she asked again.

"I thought that it couldn't," she answered, "but your highness has made me understand that my impatience is wrong. I will rest instead."

Her highness smiled but there was no emotion to it. It was only a formality, a sign of the end of her turn in their conversation.

"I am glad you understand. You're a precious guests of our majesty. The hardships you've endured are inexcusable to us as hosts. That's why from now on, I'll personally be in charge of your movements in the palace. You'll continue to stay in the harem of course. Until the matter with the bracelet is solved, you'll live in comfort just like the rest of the ladies of court."

Alex cursed silently to herself. She knew this fake hospitality was just a leash. She was right to not trust her. She forced herself to smile, for her eyes to crinkle as if she were somehow touched by the generosity.

"Thank you, your highness."

She bowed her head as the woman and her ladies-in-waiting left. She spoke not a word until she was sure she had heard her heels fade off down the hall. Left alone in silence, she and Medina both let out a sigh of relief. Medina supposed she should feel as troubled by these new restrictions as her ward did but she was somewhat relieved.

"At least we have less to worry about now. If you just follow what she says, everything will be fine."

Medina had tried to offer a optimistic comment but next stared aghast at Alex's actions. She tore off the sheets and marched to the physician's office. She pushed the door ajar before peeking inside. When she saw it was empty, she let herself inside and immediately began rummaging through the desk for stationary.

"I can play stupid with the best of them," she muttered under her breath, "but stupid, I am not."

"Milady, what are you doing!?"

Alex had found what she was looking for and carefully scribbling a note in the smallest and most nearly illegible writing she could manage. To anyone else, it would be indecipherable but for Chezem, she had placed heavy faith in his book-loving ways.

"You," she commanded, "will take this to Chezem. Make up whatever excuse you can think of, anything you need; you're getting him water, you're changing the bedsheets, you forgot something, just anything, and give it to him directly. No one else may see it, no one else may deliver it, put it in his hands. If need be, rip it off before you let anyone else look at it, understand?"

Medina thought she had lucked out the day she was promoted from house cleaning to being a lady's maid. She thought it would be easy to attend to a young woman; all it took was a helping hand getting dressed and sharing the occasional gossip. The only drama she thought she'd have to deal with was possibly cat-fights or illicit affairs. Espionage and subversion had not crossed her mind as tasks she would have to fulfill. She looked at Alex and the folded up note she held out to her.

She was within every right to say no. She could easily turn on her and take the note straight her highness. There was no doubt she'd be rewarded. She smiled helplessly and took the note. Her reward would be expensive jewelry, new dresses, even a promotion if she asked for it. But none of those material goods would make her feel as excited.

"I'll do it," she smiled.

"Be careful!"

Alex walked her to the door and watched as she disappeared down the hall. Once she was out of sight, she turned and began pacing the floor. She was hoping that without Alvah's eyes, somehow Chezem could identify the traitorous ministers. She hoped she could recognized at least one face, or one name, or one voice, it would give her something to go on. If they were such a tight knit group outside the palace, then undoubtedly they had made deals with each other inside the palace as well. All she needed was to find just one link in the chain.

She pushed it out of her mind for now and started thinking of her next task. It was the one thing Alvah had wished from her and to him, was more important than the crown. She hated it but would have to swallow her bitterness until the time came. One way or another, she would have to be of some help to Jun. Alvah's suggestion had been for her to petition to his majesty on Jun's behalf and offer her forgiveness. She resented the very idea of just pardoning him for his own benefit when he hadn't even sent her so much as an apology. But it was as he had said, her feelings now were secondary. She would help him but it wouldn't be out of the goodness of her heart. She would only help him if he agreed to help her in return. Little did she know that Jun just might be beyond anyone's help.

At the news of Alexandra's assault, King Tamir had decided to cut his vacation short and return home. Being less than half a continent away, he arrived in a matter of hours. He had left in a bad mood and the short flight hadn't given him time to cool off. The palace was thrown into chaos the moment he returned. Rooms had to be cleaned, food had to be prepared, protocol had to be followed, but it didn't matter to him at all. He saw nothing and heard no one as he calmly walked through the palace. Ivan was the only person who dared come close to him at such a time and the only one who could.

"Welcome home, you're majesty."

He followed the king's pace and matched it to a perfect sync. Once they reached his room, he helped him redress. His overly formal traveling attire, with its weighty gold embroidery and heavy jeweled accents, had to be taken apart piece.

"Is it too much to think I can take my eyes off of my sons for a moment and not expect to come home to anarchy,"the king asked.

"Would you like to hear an honest answer or a joke?"

Tamir turned to I van for a moment than off into the distance as he shook his head. He held out his arms as the heavy overcoat was pulled off of him and rolled his neck and shoulders, relieved of its heavy fur mantle.

"Of all my mistakes, I thought I had at least raised them better than this. How is she?"

"She's..." Ivan swallowed as he hesitated. He had just left her crying in the infirmary and that was not what he would call 'okay'.

"She's resting, just having returned from her adventures with Master Alvah," he answered. "There was some bruising that might take a few days to heal but no other injuries I could see."

Once Ivan had stripped him down to his breeches, Tamir himself grabbed a light robe from his dresser and hurriedly put it on. He straightened out the sleeves himself and left the other man to do the rest.

"And Alvah?

"The bullet entered his lower abdomen," Ivan began.

He inhaled deeply and held his breath. Even as Ivan continued, he closed his eyes and whispered a prayer.

"It didn't strike any major blood vessels. The doctor's are checking to see if it possibly ricocheted and tore any of his organs but so far it doesn't look likely. The major damage was to his intestines, highly uncomfortable in the long run but as long as they keep a careful eye to avoid infection, not fatal."

He finally let himself breathe and sighed in relief, patting Ivan on the back.

"Let us thank God's benevolence," Tamir nodded. "Even in the midst of tragedy, he gives us a blessing."

Ivan smiled in return of the gesture. He had never been more than considerate of religion before. But after having the privilege of witnessing these private moments, moments where an imposing man like King Tamir humbled himself, he had grown a deep respect for it. Perhaps it was odd he could smile at times like this yet still didn't feel compelled to convert. Tamir had asked him if he wanted to exactly once, and when he said no, he had never brought it up again. He had mentioned that he valued his opinion as an atheist, considered it amusing, challenging even, but valuable none the less. It was just one of their differences that bolstered their friendship.

"I will speak to Minister Ibrahim later." He continued, giving an indirect order that Ibrahim was to be sent to him. "I will give in equal value for what has been given to me."

"Yes, your majesty."

"And our friend Khalid?"

"He is working now even as we speak. He seemed oddly in good spirits, make of that what you will."

"When is he not," Tamir shrugged in an excusing 'it can't be helped' way. "I would like to know if it means anything."

"I will check on him as you wish."

"Give him time," he said waving the matter off for now. "I will see to Jun now. Then I would like to visit Alvah."

"Yes, your majesty."

Tamir dismissed Ivan to make the arrangements for his much shorter trip by car to the hospital. As he had said, he himself was on his way to see Jun. Although the prince should've have been in his room, for he had ordered him to be sent nowhere else, a fight between him and Melchiorre had ended in the older brother over-stepping his bounds, rescinding his absent father's orders, and sending the younger to the dungeons. His majesty didn't even have to guess what had been said between them. Melchiorre, for all his joviality, had a shorter temper than most would think. Likewise, Jun had a silver tongue for trouble. It was only as expected that they would bump heads. Their father knew that they were far too alike to not know how to wound each other.

Jun knew the moment his father stepped foot into the dungeons. The announcement echoed, bouncing off the damp stone walls and not even the words themselves could slip through the tightly barred windows. He was ordered to his feet but so deep was his disrespect that he considered cooperation only obliging with law, not ceremony. Tamir stepped in front of his son's cell but would go no further. With a single motion of his hand, the cell was unlocked by his command.

"Step out, Jun." His voice was calm, patient, he expected humility and possibly some rebelliousness from him.

Jun lowered his head but not from shame, smiling as he answered, "I think I'd rather stay."