And I Darken (The Conquerors Saga #1) - Kiersten White Page 0,87

Pasha’s calculating gaze.

“It would appear,” Halil Pasha said, so quietly only Radu could hear, “that the sultan has entirely forgotten the matter of your sister murdering a guest at the party.”

Radu smiled knowingly, as though he and Halil Pasha shared the same concerns. He knew only a few things about Halil Pasha, and he would bring them all into play. “Perhaps it is for the best that no one looks closely into what happened.”

The other man’s voice grew wary. “What do you mean?”

“Simply that it is a wedding. A celebration. We should move past this unfortunate incident, pray for the poor man’s soul, and anticipate the day when Mehmed once again returns to the countryside, far away and forgotten.”

With a grunt of what could have been assent, Halil Pasha swept from the room, followed by the remaining attendees, who were now certain that nothing of interest would happen. If any of them were concerned over the lack of resolution regarding the matter of the murdered man, no one mentioned it.

Lada called Radu’s name, brows furrowed, hands reaching out toward him. Mehmed looked toward Radu, waiting for him to join them and discuss what had happened.

Radu turned and left.

LADA PUT ON HER boots with a sigh of relief. Their tenure here had been interminable. After last week’s debacle, she had kept a low profile. Mehmed was constantly surrounded by guards. Perhaps Murad had not entirely forgotten that someone had tried to kill Mehmed.

If that was, in fact, what had happened.

Lada had been certain she had seen the flash of a weapon, but no one could identify the man, and the guest list had been conveniently misplaced. It was part of the reason the matter had been dropped. No one would claim the murdered man, which pointed to the fact that he should not have been there, whatever his purpose.

But it remained that she had killed him before being sure that he was, in fact, after Mehmed.

She frowned, tying a sash around her tunic. If the man was innocent, she was sorry, but she knew she would make the same choice again. What did that say about her?

Leaving the rest of her things for servants to pack, she crossed the hall to Radu’s room. He had kept the opposite of a low profile, suddenly becoming even more a darling of the court. Lada had not been able to so much as speak to him all week. No longer did he keep company with second sons and minor officials. At last night’s feast, he had spent most of the night at Murad’s side, paraded around like a long-lost son. Meanwhile Lada had stood in the corner, and Mehmed had remained banished in his silken prison with wilting Sitti Hatun.

Lada pounded on Radu’s door. He opened it, still in his bedclothes.

“Hurry up! We leave in an hour. Back to Amasya at last.” She pushed past him and sat on his rumpled bed. “I will be so happy to have this nightmare behind us.”

Radu looked at her with an intensity she was unaccustomed to. Usually he smiled or said something funny to deflect her bad moods. But now he stared expectantly and unkindly.

Lada shifted on the bed, scowling. “You are the one who has been avoiding me. I was going to thank you. It was very well handled with Murad. But how dare you say I have converted to Islam! I could have killed you.” It was the most she could bring herself to say, because in truth she knew she would have been dead without Radu’s brilliant intervention. She could muster some gratitude, but more than that she was annoyed, angry, even jealous. Radu was in his element among these people, while Lada could not be further from hers.

Radu’s expression remained the same. Lada stood, throwing her hands in the air. “What do you want?”

“I know,” he said.

“What do you know?”

“About you and Mehmed.” He said Mehmed’s name as he always had, like a prayer. But this time it was laced with despair and longing. Lada turned her head defensively, picking up a candle from its stand and playing with the flame.

“What do you think you know?”

“You do not deserve him.”

Slamming down the candle, Lada spun on Radu. “Perhaps he does not deserve me! I asked for none of this! How can you judge me for finding some measure of happiness in—” She stopped, searching her brother’s face. It was there, as plain as the stars in a cloudless night sky. Perhaps it had