And I Darken (The Conquerors Saga #1) - Kiersten White Page 0,49

home inside his heart.

He wanted to ponder this more, and to practice the words of conversion he said so many times in his heart but never aloud, so he was glad for the solitude of the baths today. He always went at odd times to avoid a crowd. He had begun sprouting hair in new places, his legs aching every night with the stretching pull of time finally claiming his childhood. Besides, there was the curious effect the warm water had on his developing manhood, which he quite enjoyed and preferred to experience alone.

Poor eunuchs. Though the chief eunuch said being castrated and sold was the only future his parents had been able to offer him, Radu did not think it was very kind. The chief eunuch was powerful, yes, in charge of the entire harem and privy to the inner workings of the empire, but what a sacrifice!

Radu closed his eyes, let his arms float, felt all the tension swirl away from him.

Then someone grabbed his ankles and dragged him under the water.

He kicked out, terrified and frantic, remembering the times Mircea would hold his head beneath the fountain until his vision went dark and his lungs nearly burst for want of air. A horrible thought clawed through Radu’s panic. Had Mircea been killed in battle and sent his spirit to drag Radu down with him?

As his scream bubbled out around him, Radu’s foot connected with a shoulder and he twisted free. He surfaced, spluttering.

Mehmed popped up next to him, water streaming down his face, white teeth shining. No ghost. Mehmed teasing, not Mircea tormenting. Mehmed’s laughter echoed around them, filling the room until they were completely cocooned by it.

Radu felt as though he were breathing in Mehmed’s laughter, warm and heavy as it filled his lungs and settled on his skin. “You scared me.” His tongue was thick and clumsy in his mouth. He had not seen Mehmed for days, had not seen him alone for weeks.

“Yes, that was apparent.” Mehmed’s lips twisted into a playful grin. “You looked like you were about to fall asleep. I was worried you would drown.”

“Well, thank you for preventing my drowning by pulling me under the water in an attempt to drown me.”

Mehmed bowed with a dramatic flourish. He was giddy, cheeks flushed brighter than the heat could account for. The war had not been going well, even with Mehmed’s father reluctantly taking the lead.

“Do you have good news?” Radu’s chest twisted tight with bands of hope. It was a strange sensation, and one he did not know what to do with. Did he hope Mehmed’s forces were winning? Was that traitorous, knowing that his own brother led troops in the conflict? Did the Ottomans winning make it more or less likely that Radu and Lada would be killed for their father’s betrayal? And then, seeing the relief shining in Mehmed’s black eyes, Radu knew what he hoped for: He hoped for the best for his friend. Regardless of what that meant for himself.

Mehmed threw his arms in the air, splashing them both. The gesture was childlike in its joyful abandon. Ever since they had returned to Edirne, with its politics and demands and war, Mehmed had held himself as unyielding and straight as a stake. Radu laughed to see him relax back into himself.

“My father has triumphed at Varna. The crusade is defeated. Hunyadi fled like a dog, and the Hungarian king’s head travels here now on the end of my father’s spear!”

Radu smiled as best he could, but his mind worried away at what this meant and how it would affect him.

Mehmed’s expression turned thoughtful. “Your father was not there.”

Feigning a casual, joking tone that could not be further from how he actually felt, Radu put a hand to his chest. “My father, the coward? Miss a battle where he has tepidly supported both sides? I am shocked.”

“I have no word on Mircea’s fate.”

“His fate is nothing to me.” Radu’s pretense of disinterest was betrayed by the bitterness that curdled his words.

Mehmed put a hand on his shoulder, the weight of it there both a comfort and a strange thrill. It made Radu feel real in a way he often struggled to. “It will work itself out,” Mehmed said. “There will be a new treaty. And my father wishes me to remain on the throne. I…think I am ready. I know that was not our plan, but the last few weeks have changed my mind. I want this. I