The Hour of the Crow

Chapter 4: At the Moon's Hour

Inna took her time to prepare for her meeting with Prince Rabyatt. She bathed, had a servant wash, dry and comb her hair until it was sleek. She paced in front of her closet for half an hour, discarding one outfit after the other. Zazi watched her with mild amusement and provided witty comments about Inna’s vanity every once in a while.

Her indecision wasn’t really a matter of vanity, though. Inna didn’t want Rabyatt to think she had made an actual effort to look pretty for him, but he was still a man and Inna wasn’t beyond deploying her good looks to get the answers she needed. And she needed them desperately.

The image of her father’s entranced gaze when he had laid eyes on the Sphere of Truths still plagued her mind. Inna was all too familiar with the Shah’s fascination for rarities and objects of unparalleled power, and she was all but certain the Sphere would grow into an obsession for him. She had to find out whether Rabyatt was aware of that particular flaw in her father’s character, and whether he had meant to exploit it from the beginning.

In the end, she chose a long, blue dress with an elegant, high neckline and tight skirt that accentuated the curves of her hips and thighs without showing too much flesh. Zazi let out a soft hiss of approval from her spot on a cream-colored ottoman.

Remember to bat your eyelashes at him, the snake advised her, a mischievous smile in her voice. He’s already mesmerized by your eyes anyway.

Inna snorted. She grabbed the amber stone from the table she had put it on and turned it over in her hands, marveling once more at the strange energy it radiated. Though too insignificant to be of much importance, the stone’s energy had all the colors of a rainbow, a combination she had never seen before. It was warm too, unnaturally so, like a portable flame. Every time she held it, Inna felt as if she had warmed up by a fireplace.

Another thing she should ask Rabyatt about tonight.

Inna ate alone in her room that evening. She gagged at the thought of having to listen to round after round of political gibberish by councillors who stuck their ignorant heads in their butts most of the time. Instead of solving real problems, such as the city’s ever-growing poverty rate, they rather discussed the extravagant organization of the next great feast in honor of this or that god. Some days, their ant-sized brains and her father’s willingness to play along drove Inna mad enough to want to eat her plate along with the food on it.

She preferred eating with the harem and her siblings, especially Kasmir and Nylah, who were both only a year younger than her. But not tonight. Tonight, she needed space to think.

Tata knew better than to try and sway her into joining the Shah for dinner. She did give the princess a lecture on responsibility and duty, but it was only half-hearted and the maid left right away afterwards to inform the palace cooks. Inna loved that woman. Together with her brothers and sisters and most of her father’s wives, Tata made the dull life at court bearable.

Seated in her usual spot by the balcony doors, Inna waited until the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon’s white crystal orb took its place in the expanding sea of glittering stars. The moon’s hour. With slow movements to control her nerves, she pushed herself up and strode to the door. Zazi curled the tip of her tail around Inna’s wrist to tag along. The princess seldom went anywhere without her reptilian companion.

The gardens were situated in the very center of the palace’s complex, encompassed by long arcades where politicians, visitors and palace personnel alike often liked to stroll to behold the beauty of their environment. Inna had loved to come here as a child and hide behind a large bush or tree to read a book. Her lips curled up with a smile at the memories. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the sweet, exotic aroma of the blooming roses, lilies and dahlias. Most of the recent changes to the gardens’ design had occured at the hands of her mother, including the construction of a lovely, white pavilion in the eastern section. Long ranks of emerald ivy stretched across its roof like possessive fingers.