The Sultan's Spy

Chapter 32: Revelations

Clustered around the sides of one of the smaller, arched doorways that led into the wide room filled with some of the most powerful people in the country, Tariq felt stupid. The other scribes didn't seem to notice, too busy ogling the people, mostly the women, who swirled by. To those who'd had little contact with the rich, it was certainly an awe-inspiring sight.

Men dressed in richly embroidered clothes talked to one another for the most part, while the silk clad women spoke to each other. Fine food and drink circulated the room, the occasional wafts of scent reminding Tariq that he hadn't yet had dinner. But for the most part he didn't much care for what he saw.

He'd noticed the Sultan, a few of his guards always hovering by him. A touch of grey visible even from a distance, Tariq couldn't help the way his stomach clenched every time his eyes found the man. The man with the power to do anything had abandoned his own. For that, Tariq hoped he choked.

Tearing his eyes away from him, getting angry wasn't helping anything and could draw unnecessary attention if the others noticed, he turned his attention back to the women. If the others noticed they'd only find him doing the same as them.

The women were a mix of ages, some old enough to be his mother, others obviously younger than him. He had to admit, there were more than one that was quite pretty. He followed the liquid movements of one who had her back to him. She glided more than she walked, looking like she had all the time in the world.

That was the difference between those born to money. They always felt like they had all the time in the world, that nothing could touch them. They didn't know how hard life could be. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to relax and go back to admiring the woman's form.

Then she turned so he could see her face.

Tariq recognized Liss immediately, even from the distance. The eyes he was used to seeing close-up were on the dancers as she shifted closer. The lips that so often argued with him were pulling faintly down, in a way he recognized from before. She was intent on something.

He glanced around, but couldn't find anything he thought that would interest her. Nor did he see whoever she was accompanying. Which sparked his next eventual thought, one that burned its way into him. "Hey," he said, gently touching Fahim's shoulder. "Who's that?"

Fahim followed the direction of his nod and gaze, and frowned as he looked Liss over. "No idea. Someone noble. Don't get any ideas about approaching them, everyone here is so far off limits, it's not to even be thought of. Not unless you want to join the eunuchs."

Tariq nodded, eyes still on Liss. Her face was lighter now, smoothing out slightly as she slowly turned away from the dancers. He couldn't look away. He'd seen her look like a rich woman before, but this was different. She looked like she belonged here and no one was showing any sign that would indicate otherwise. Which brought the same question that had been plaguing him since he'd met her. Who was Liss?

Movement from the side had Tariq's head snapping up, years of living among the darker elements of the city having left their mark. He only relaxed marginally when he realized it wasn't an attack but Sirhan making his way towards them, an apologetic smile on his face. "Hey," he hissed to the others.

They all looked up and noticed Sirhan at the same time. Halif flinched, Fahim and Jastir grimaced, while Dastgir only sighed. Tariq said nothing, though he shuffled his weight between his two feet like he was uncomfortable. No point drawing attention to himself when he didn't have to.

"While I appreciate the curiosity of you young men, I must stress that this isn't the best venue for you to be exploring it," the Vizier's aide said when he reached them.

None of them met his gaze for several moments. "We just wanted to see," Fahim finally said. "We did our best to stay out of the way."

"I do appreciate that, but the Sultan, his family, and the others gathered here today don't much care for being spied on. Now, if you all promise to head off quietly, without fuss, I'll make sure I find and send you all some of the leftover lokum. There's always far too much for everyone here to eat. Does that sound fair?"

The soft assents he got made Sirhan smile wider. "Good boys."

Not knowing when another chance like this would occur, and with the curiosity practically scalding his innards, Tariq shifted closer to Sirhan. "Sir? May I ask you one question?"

"Certainly."

"Who is that?" he asked, nodding towards where Liss was just crossing the room.

Sirhan turned, frowning slightly until his eyes found Liss. Eyebrows up, he turned back to Tariq. "That, unless I'm entirely mistaken and I doubt I am, is Princess Eliska. She's the Sultan's youngest sister, and if what others say is true, one of his favourites. She's something of a wild one with her occasional pranks, but she is still a princess. You'd do best to stay clear of her."

Tariq nodded absently, gaze dropping to the ground while a roaring seemed to fill his ears. Over and over again he heard Sirhan's words repeated. Princess Eliska. The Sultan's youngest sister. His favourite.

Liss, the fierce alley cat he'd so admired was a lie. Instead he'd been chasing a pampered, pedigreed pet of the Sultan's. Liss was just another identity of this Eliska. His hands clenched into fists as he followed the other scribes down the hall. He'd lost the woman he'd admired, the woman he'd wanted to bring into his business, the woman he'd-

He clenched his teeth. No. He was a professional, and he'd finish his job. He just needed some time to think about this, to figure out what he would do from here on out. Tariq refused to admit defeat. He'd show his client, the Sultan, and Eliska that nothing could shake him off. Not even a royal spy.