“I’ve heard of it.” He raised an eyebrow, searching my face with surprise and amusement.
“I’ve never been before,” I said quickly, feeling flustered. “But maybe that’s where we can go later. To talk. And … be like this.”
The stubble on his jaw tickled my neck. I shivered. “When?” he asked.
“Tonight,” I said. “Tonight.”
We both stiffened. A barrage of distant voices echoed in our minds, vying for attention. The Ray.
Sanjeet groaned. “Our council’s worried.”
I nodded, resting my head against his. “We’d better go back. You don’t suppose they’ve guessed?”
“They can’t read our thoughts unless we let our mental guards down,” Sanjeet said. “I’ve got nothing to hide if you don’t.” Dayo’s forlorn expression after the dance flashed in my head. Sanjeet read my features, guessing correctly where my thoughts had gone. “We’ll keep it between us, then.”
“For now,” I said.
“For now,” he agreed.
We held hands until the festival grounds were in sight, then reluctantly walked side by side, keeping space between us. We fooled no one, of course. Once our council siblings saw we were safe, they nudged each other and threw knowing smirks in our direction.
Well, well, if it isn’t the Judge and the Bear! Found a better party than this one, eh?
I avoided looking at Dayo. He could never hide pain, and never had the pride to try. But when I gave in and peeked, his face merely shone with relief. We grinned at each other, sheepish. Dayo had not wanted to be my lover any more than I had wanted to be his. I wondered, then, about the bond between us, different than what I felt for my council siblings. In some ways, it was even stronger than the spark between me and Sanjeet.
Before I could return to the Prince’s Council dais, an Imperial Guard warrior stepped into my path. She bowed to me, then pointed at Thaddace and Mbali’s dais across the festival grounds.
“Their High Anointed Honors have summoned you,” the warrior said.
I gulped. Had they disapproved of my disappearance from the festival? I sighed and slunk obediently to the far dais, bracing for a reprimand.
Mbali and Thaddace stared down at me from their tasseled cushions, looking resplendent in their festival wear. Mbali represented Swana, like me, and wore stacks of rainbow bangles on her willowy arms and neck. Thaddace was swathed in green Mewish tartan. I knelt on the dais steps, staring nervously at their gold-trimmed sandals.
“I’m sorry I left the festival,” I babbled after an unnerving silence. “I know it’s unseemly for Prince’s Council members to travel alone. But we’re so close to the keep. And I was worried about Sanjeet, and—”
“We’ve put you in a difficult position,” interrupted Mbali.
I opened my mouth to bleat out another apology, then closed it. “Anointed Honors?”
“We know what you saw in the keep, Tarisai.” Mbali waited until I could have no doubt about what she meant. My face heated.
“I assume,” Thaddace intoned, “that you have told your council.” He stared over my head, and I realized that he was embarrassed. Poor Thaddace. I had seen him naked, and he still had to be my law tutor.
“It’s only natural if you told them,” Mbali added kindly. “They’re your council siblings. But our secret is very dangerous, Tarisai. It could threaten Aritsar’s stability. Your discretion is essential.” I nodded, but she continued in a neutral tone. “In his letters to the emperor, I hope you will encourage Dayo to be discreet as well.”
I gaped like a fish out of a stream. Mbali and Thaddace wanted me to keep a secret.
From the emperor.
But why would Olugbade be worried about his council members having a dalliance? What threat could it pose to him, except the mild scandal of court gossip? Still, I nodded again, fidgeting with the beads on my wrists. “May I be excused, Anointed Honors?”
Mbali learned forward to peck me on the cheek. “I think you will make a wise Delegate to Swana,” she said. “And an excellent High Lady Judge.”
I tried to return to my council’s dais, where my siblings were busy accepting gifts and blessing the village children. But as I turned toward them, my head swam, as though struck with a sleep dart. I swayed on my feet, and a sweet musk filled my nostrils.
I heard myself mumble an excuse, though no one was close enough to hear: “Going to relieve myself.” Woodenly, I glided away from the firelit festival, where that familiar musk drew me, growing stronger with every step.