From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [111]
She didn’t mind? “You should, Challa.” Shouldn’t she?
Not his problem. He stumbled away. Movement behind him caused him to turn, ready to apologize to Challa again if need be, but it was only his Kingsguard shadows. Both men averted their eyes when Achan looked their way. They had been standing nearby the whole night, he had no doubt.
He turned, cheeks blazing, and trudged out of the clearing. The path ahead blurred the tents together. He tripped over a guy line and barely caught his balance before his shadows swooped in to coddle him again.
“I’m fine!” He held out his hands to prove it and give his balance time to return. He stepped slowly along the path. Every movement sent pangs of nausea through his stomach.
“Your Highness! Wait!” Kurtz’s voice, behind him.
Achan gritted his teeth, angry at Kurtz, angrier still at himself.
Kurtz wrapped an arm around Achan and pulled his head into the crook of his arm. “What happened, Pacey? Of all the women I’ve met tonight, Challa is by far the most beautiful. Did she do something wrong?”
“You paid her to dance with me.”
Kurtz rubbed his hand in Achan’s hair. “Aww, don’t take it that way, eh? We paid the lot of them to come. And Challa would have danced with you on her own, she would. Don’t you go doubting that, eh? Why not take her with us as your concubine? She can travel with you in your wagon. Sleep in your tent. And once you reside in the palace at Armonguard, you can give her a room in a different part of the castle from your wife.” Kurtz slapped the flat of his hand against Achan’s stomach and lowered his voice. “It’s always best to keep them apart from one another, it is.”
Concubine? Achan’s head throbbed. “I would never destroy her life by doing such a thing.”
Kurtz raised both eyebrows. “She’s a prostitute, Your Highness. If she became your concubine you’d be improving her life, eh?”
The breath rushed from Achan’s lungs. “How old is she? Surely no more than sixteen years?”
“I know better than to ask a woman her age.” Kurtz clapped him on the back. “You’d be doing her a favor to take her from here. Imagine, a peasant prostitute moves into the Armonguard palace. Minstrels would write songs about her.”
“I—” Unwelcome thoughts of Challa’s smile filled Achan’s mind. “No, Kurtz. That is not how Arman would have me live—or Challa—or my queen.”
Whoever she may be.
“Bah! Foolhardy nonsense. Your father had many concubines, he did.”
Achan wrinkled his nose. “No.” King Axel had loved his queen ever since he knew boys and girls were different. Sir Gavin had said so.
“Eh… forgive me, Your Highness, but the king had dozens, he did. Mistresses too. Saw it with my own eyes more times than I can count. There’s no harm in it, eh? All men of power have the right, they do.”
A wave of nausea peaked in Achan’s stomach. He took a deep breath and pulled away. “Good evening, Kurtz.” He trudged through the camp, head pounding as if something inside were trying to push its way out.
Achan had painted a vivid history of his parents’ relationship in his mind. But it was based on songs sung by minstrels and snippets of stories from the knights. He pawed through his memories, seeking some hint he may have forgotten. Surely Kurtz was mistaken.
Achan ducked into his tent, got tangled in the drape under the valance, and beat it away. His shoulder struck the edge of the doorway, shaking the entire structure. He stumbled inside. A lone candle burned. Achan squinted in the low light, trying to make out the best path to his bed.
“Your Highness.” Sir Caleb’s voice came from somewhere nearby. “I was just about to message you.”
Achan wanted—no, needed—to lie down. He spotted a large patch of blue to his left and stumbled toward it. His feet carried him slightly askew. He focused on the blue blankets and his course veered true.
“Where have you been?” Sir Caleb’s voice spun around him, coming from everywhere at once. “Have you been drinking?”
Achan turned toward the candlelight. His eyes stung. He could barely make out Sir Caleb, sitting at the table. “A bit.”
Sir Caleb stood and snapped