And I Darken
Page 107
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“You are cruel,” he said, lifting her hair to his nose and hiding his face in it.
“Do you really want to discuss this now?” They had found a sort of peace, come to a truce on the matter of his harem: Lada pretended it did not exist, and Mehmed never acknowledged it. But she still refused to give him all he wanted. Holding her maidenhood to herself was the only way she knew to protect herself, to keep her heart from becoming fully his.
And she was afraid, too, that if she ever allowed him in, he would cease seeing her as Lada and dismiss her the same way he did the mother of his son. She was even more afraid of having a child, of being broken from the inside. She wanted nothing to change. She wanted to live in these sharp winter days, curled together against the evening chill, the two of them forming their own secret society. But she could not deny that every passing day made it more difficult to want him to stop.
She left the warm cocoon of his bed, seized with a sudden panic that if she did not break free right then, she would emerge different, unrecognizable to herself.
“Where are you going?” Mehmed reached out to grab her, but she twisted free of his hands.
“Training.”
“You have the most deadly force in the entire Janissary ranks. What more can you possibly need to do today?”
She did not answer, but instead rushed out of his room and ran to the barracks. There, Nicolae was crouched on the floor, throwing dice with Petru, whose face indicated he was not doing well. “Ah,” Nicolae said, looking up. “She graces us with her presence! To what do we owe the honor?”
“Is that how you address your leader?” Her words snapped Petru to attention. He stood, tall and straight, bowing his head.
Nicolae took his time, stretching his long body before finally standing. “I did not realize you were leading anywhere I would need to follow.” His tone was light, but his meaning lashed Lada to the core. He had been ready to flee with her. And she had decided to stay without any thought of him. Things had not been the same between them since, but she filled her time with Mehmed and pretended not to care.
“When I have somewhere to go,” she said, holding his gaze, her chin tipped up, “you will be the first I want by my side.”
He sighed, raising a scarred eyebrow. “I hope so.”
“Now, we can—”
Mehmed burst into the room, chest heaving, a terrified young boy following him. “Tell her,” he ordered the boy.
The boy, who had a large head and a skinny neck, spoke. “Murad will not survive the week. Halil Pasha means to turn the city against you before you can come claim the throne. Leave now, bring only those you trust absolutely. Enter in secret. He is watching all the gates. I will be waiting for the boy to return with news. My arms are scarred by rosebushes. Yours faithfully, Radu.”
Mehmed stared at her. “What does the last part mean?”
“I have been deceived by someone falsely claiming to be Radu in a message before. But no one else would know about that except us. The message is from Radu, without question.” Lada paused, an unexpected ache for her brother rising in her belly. “Gather the men. We leave now. Bring extra horses to switch out.”
“What about Ilyas?” Mehmed asked.
“Do you trust him?”
“I do.”
Lada nodded. “His force is too big. We need to get you into the palace without notice. I will have him follow with his troops two days after us. For now, we ride hard and fast, and with only my men.”
“We are playing ‘Attack the City’ against Edirne?” Petru asked, eyes lighting up.
Lada could not help matching his anticipation with a smile of her own, showcasing each of her tiny, sharp teeth. “Yes. We infiltrate the capital.”
“But if we split up,” Matei said, crouching near the fire as the rabbits Stefan had caught cooked, “we are more vulnerable. Mehmed is not exactly unknown. We need all the eyes and swords we have.”
Petru, Nicolae, Stefan, and Matei, as Lada’s first Janissaries, sat in on the council. Her other men were sprawled in the woods nearby, trying to sleep in the early-afternoon light. They had made good time, mainly riding at night, avoiding the towns and cities that dotted the roads.
“We cannot enter the city as Janissaries.” Nicolae held his cap out. “We would be stopped, questioned. And no one will fail to notice a troop of Janissaries led by a woman.”
Lada growled, kicking at the ground. “Why must I be a woman?”
“Yes, why must you?” Mehmed said, amusement coloring his voice.
“Do you really want to discuss this now?” They had found a sort of peace, come to a truce on the matter of his harem: Lada pretended it did not exist, and Mehmed never acknowledged it. But she still refused to give him all he wanted. Holding her maidenhood to herself was the only way she knew to protect herself, to keep her heart from becoming fully his.
And she was afraid, too, that if she ever allowed him in, he would cease seeing her as Lada and dismiss her the same way he did the mother of his son. She was even more afraid of having a child, of being broken from the inside. She wanted nothing to change. She wanted to live in these sharp winter days, curled together against the evening chill, the two of them forming their own secret society. But she could not deny that every passing day made it more difficult to want him to stop.
She left the warm cocoon of his bed, seized with a sudden panic that if she did not break free right then, she would emerge different, unrecognizable to herself.
“Where are you going?” Mehmed reached out to grab her, but she twisted free of his hands.
“Training.”
“You have the most deadly force in the entire Janissary ranks. What more can you possibly need to do today?”
She did not answer, but instead rushed out of his room and ran to the barracks. There, Nicolae was crouched on the floor, throwing dice with Petru, whose face indicated he was not doing well. “Ah,” Nicolae said, looking up. “She graces us with her presence! To what do we owe the honor?”
“Is that how you address your leader?” Her words snapped Petru to attention. He stood, tall and straight, bowing his head.
Nicolae took his time, stretching his long body before finally standing. “I did not realize you were leading anywhere I would need to follow.” His tone was light, but his meaning lashed Lada to the core. He had been ready to flee with her. And she had decided to stay without any thought of him. Things had not been the same between them since, but she filled her time with Mehmed and pretended not to care.
“When I have somewhere to go,” she said, holding his gaze, her chin tipped up, “you will be the first I want by my side.”
He sighed, raising a scarred eyebrow. “I hope so.”
“Now, we can—”
Mehmed burst into the room, chest heaving, a terrified young boy following him. “Tell her,” he ordered the boy.
The boy, who had a large head and a skinny neck, spoke. “Murad will not survive the week. Halil Pasha means to turn the city against you before you can come claim the throne. Leave now, bring only those you trust absolutely. Enter in secret. He is watching all the gates. I will be waiting for the boy to return with news. My arms are scarred by rosebushes. Yours faithfully, Radu.”
Mehmed stared at her. “What does the last part mean?”
“I have been deceived by someone falsely claiming to be Radu in a message before. But no one else would know about that except us. The message is from Radu, without question.” Lada paused, an unexpected ache for her brother rising in her belly. “Gather the men. We leave now. Bring extra horses to switch out.”
“What about Ilyas?” Mehmed asked.
“Do you trust him?”
“I do.”
Lada nodded. “His force is too big. We need to get you into the palace without notice. I will have him follow with his troops two days after us. For now, we ride hard and fast, and with only my men.”
“We are playing ‘Attack the City’ against Edirne?” Petru asked, eyes lighting up.
Lada could not help matching his anticipation with a smile of her own, showcasing each of her tiny, sharp teeth. “Yes. We infiltrate the capital.”
“But if we split up,” Matei said, crouching near the fire as the rabbits Stefan had caught cooked, “we are more vulnerable. Mehmed is not exactly unknown. We need all the eyes and swords we have.”
Petru, Nicolae, Stefan, and Matei, as Lada’s first Janissaries, sat in on the council. Her other men were sprawled in the woods nearby, trying to sleep in the early-afternoon light. They had made good time, mainly riding at night, avoiding the towns and cities that dotted the roads.
“We cannot enter the city as Janissaries.” Nicolae held his cap out. “We would be stopped, questioned. And no one will fail to notice a troop of Janissaries led by a woman.”
Lada growled, kicking at the ground. “Why must I be a woman?”
“Yes, why must you?” Mehmed said, amusement coloring his voice.
