The Serpent's Veil

Firelight

The maids who had dressed Khaya had done nothing to remove the gold leaf from her body, which was now beginning to peel and flake off. She was itchy and as visible as a blot of ink, clad in a red qamis so bright it hurt to look at. Despite this she had a wide smile on her face. Today was her first session with Parviz, which meant a visit to the library, and an opportunity to ask all the burning questions locked in her throat.

Maya had escorted her to the library, from where one of the guards guided her to a private alcove shaded by a yellow curtain. It was more spacious than it appeared, with a bookshelf and writing table fitting in comfortably. Parviz sat on a cushion with his legs crossed, opening his eyes when the curtain shifted.

"Welcome, sahiba."

She sat opposite him and opened her notebook on her lap. Her eyes were wide and alert.

Parviz leaned back. "So tell me, why is it you want to learn Fiq? Most of the girls choose to hone music or dance."

"From what I have seen, the Prince isn't really interested in what his harem women are up to," she shrugged, "So I thought why bother trying to woo him when I can further my own learning?"

Parviz pursed his lips, clearly impressed. "A formidable ideology for a woman in such a position."

She knew what he meant. Her place in the harem was easily replaceable. She had to remain in the Prince's favour if she wanted to keep it.

She sighed and smiled sheepishly. "I talk a big talk for someone who knows next to nothing about Fiq."

Parviz's laugh rumbled. "We shall soon change that, my dear."

Without introduction they dove straight into the texts laid out on the table; treatises on moral judgement and governance. Khaya scribbled furiously, filling her notebook with unfamiliar words like obstruction, jurisprudence, opposition, and philanthropy. Parviz explained the judicial hierarchy; names of judges and their various powers, who controlled what areas of law and whose decisions outweighed the rest. Khaya had to sketch out a complicated chart of interconnecting lines and arrows to remember it all.

Parviz paused his lecture to pour them both a cup of tea. "I think for one day that is enough."

"I wanted to ask–"

He raised a hand to silence her. "Deliberate on what you have learned today and then bring your questions to our next meeting."

"It is a separate matter, Qadi," Khaya paused, unsure of whether to continue. He nodded. "I was wondering if you had any more stories about the Barmakis?"

He crossed his arms and frowned. "What kind of stories exactly?"

"I mean about their rumoured 'abilities'."

Parviz chuckled, and she didn't expect him to react any differently. "I'm afraid what little I've told you is all I know. I'm sure some stories have been penned, though I would caution you to take them as just that. Stories." He gave her a soft, stern look. "You can always ask one of the librarians to brush through the archives."

Khaya hid her dissatisfaction with a nod. Either he was hiding something, or there really was nothing more to the story.

"I will take my leave." She closed her notebook and rose.

"Study what I taught you today well, so we can continue without pause," Parviz said.

Khaya nodded and bowed before turning to leave. The same guard led her back to where Meia was waiting. As they headed back to the harem Khaya's mind wandered. Asking the librarians seemed to be the only path available, but with all the eunuch's prowling around her enquiries were sure to be noticed – if there was any truth to the stories, that was the last thing she wanted. She could request an audience with Yahya directly, but if he didn't like what he heard he could easily throw her out of the palace, or worse, cut her throat. Asking the prince himself would have the same consequence. Khaya pursed her lips and sighed.