Bilhah lay still, listening to the scratch of his pen and wondering at the irony that her only night in the Palace, her only night in his bed, should be spent in exactly the same way as the previous six nights with Holy Mother. She did not know what the morning would bring, or where she would rest her head when the next night followed it, but she prayed the Goddess would watch over her. She would follow the path set before her. Who knows where it might lead? Perhaps one day, many years from now, she would tell her children about this night. Tell of how she met their King, of how he sat up all night so she could sleep, of how he asked her to speak his name.
The warm glow of the thought muddled with the joy of knowing his compassion was true, the disappointment of her failure, and the uncertain fear from the loss of her calling. The bittersweet marbling of emotions threatened to withhold sleep from her, but soon enough their strength overwhelmed her with sheer exhaustion. The soft bed carried her down into unconsciousness.
A crash jolted her from sleep. An angry male voice yelling curses filled her with momentary terror until she remembered where she was. The Prince was standing by his desk, snatching papers from the tide of ink dripping down the slope.
"Damn, three letters ruined! Worker! That's half a bell's effort wasted."
Bilhah sat up in bed, clutching the sheet against her as her eyes adjusted to the lamplight. The ink bottle lay smashed beside the desk, a dark pool spreading across the floor. Apart from the lamplight the room was dark. It must be the middle of the night, some time between one day's tenth bell and the next day's first.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes. I'm sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep and knocked the ink over. Worker, it's everywhere!"
"Shall I help you?"
"No, it's all right. And don't worry, your paper's safe. Just as well, I've no ink left to write another. Worker!" He found a rag and tried to mop the worst of the mess from his desk.
"You're tired. Please, won't you take the bed? I can sleep on the floor."
"No, you need it more than me. I'll send for more ink. And more paper. The desk will dry. I'll be fine."
He didn't look fine. He looked exhausted. Ink was splattered across his shirt, and half the desk was black with it. How could she deny him rest by taking his bed? An idea occurred to her, an idea so forward it could have come out of Devorah's mouth. It would surely have seemed ridiculous in the light of the daytime, but under the veil of night it seemed sensible enough to lend her voice to it. "It's a large bed. I'm sure we could both sleep in it without disturbing one another."
He stared at her, frowning, papers in one hand and rag in the other. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"I trust you. And I'm already uncomfortable taking your bed from you. Please, won't you rest?"
He hesitated a moment more, before putting the papers down. "Well, if you're sure?"
"I am."
He disappeared behind the screen. Bilhah heard water being poured into the bowl, then splashing as he washed. Even quiet sounds were clear in the darkness. She heard his towel drop to the floor. His clothes rustling as he changed. His sigh as put aside the cares of the day and prepared for sleep.
He snuffed out the lamp behind the screen, then walked across the room, his feet falling softly on the floor. His night clothes were loose and flowed as he moved, cream cloth trailing over the warm brown of his skin. He had his mother's easy grace, but a squareness about his shoulders that was far from feminine. Bilhah watched as he snuffed another lamp on the desk, and a third on the chest of drawers, leaving just two flames burning to hold back the darkness. It felt like a long time until he finally approached the bed and folded back the covers. She felt the mattress dip as it took his weight. He lay down, as far away from her on the other side as he could be. He patted the pillow before resting his head on it, turning his face away from her, and sighed again.
"Goodnight, Bilhah."
"Goodnight, January." She lay still in the darkness, blood roaring through her veins, all thoughts of sleep evaporating. He was so near she could hear him breathing. So near she could smell the oils on his skin, so near she could surely hear his heart beat, if only her own were not thudding so noisily. Oh, why didn't he want her? If she reached out her arm she could touch him. She felt guilty for even thinking of it. She must not disturb him. Was he already asleep? Or was he lying awake as she was?
Moments later an answer came as he shifted in the bed. She dared not make a sound. She lay motionless, ears craning for any noise, but none came. She waited a long time, hearing nothing, certain that by now he must have fallen asleep. The fire was low, and any sense of time had long since been lost. Drowsiness began to pull at her, but she couldn't quite let go and slip into sleep.
Abruptly, he turned over to face her, punching the pillow again before laying his head down with a heavy sigh. Bilhah's eyes met his gaze for a heart stopping moment before she could look away. Thank the Goddess the light was too low for him to see her blush.
"Did I wake you again? I'm sorry."
"No, it's all right. I can't sleep."
"Me too. I'm not used to sharing my bedroom."
It couldn't be true, but it made her smile still. "I am, but I still can't sleep tonight."
"You are?" Even in the half light she could see the confusion on his face. "I thought the Goddess House kept you..."
She giggled, realising his mistake. "Oh, I meant with other girls. We share rooms at the House."
"Oh!" He laughed. "I thought you meant.... Oh Warrior, of course!" He was still laughing, and she was so glad that she laughed too. It was wonderful to see him smile, wonderful to feel the tension in the air dissolve.
"So, how many girls did you share with?"
"Just one. We had better rooms on the concubine path. The wife path girls have four to a room, and the little ones are in dormitories."
"Oh. I've never shared with anyone, not even when I was young. Mother wouldn't allow it. I always wished I could, it sounded so much fun. I've always been jealous of boys who had brothers." The smile still playing on his mouth. She felt so at ease, so content in his presence. It was almost as if she were whispering secrets to Adah back in her old room, except that she had never lain in that dark room wishing Adah would gather her into her arms and kiss her. It was a strange thing, that she wanted him to do it when he didn't want her at all. It was certainly not the usual way of things, not from what she'd learned at the House at least. What else had they lied about? Curiosity needled at her.
"Can I ask you something?"
He nodded.
"Why don't you want a concubine? I know you won't keep a slave, but you could take concubines who are free?"
"No, I know what you really think of us. I don't want that."
What they thought of him? She didn't understand. She had nothing but respect and admiration for him. Confusion drew her brows together even though she tried to keep it from her face.
"I am my mother's only child. I grew up playing with my father's bastards from the North Tower. When we were young his concubines weren't careful what they said – they thought the children didn't understand. We didn't, at the time, but I still remember their words. I know how much they hate him. How they lie to his face because they're afraid that if they displease him he'll kill them. They make a fool of him. He believes all their platitudes. He has no idea that every one of them would gladly put a knife in his guts if they weren't afraid their children would hang for it. Well I won't be like him. I won't be the laughing stock of the garrison because I can't control myself. I swore I'd never put a woman in my bed who would grow to hate me because she'd been sold as a slave or a whore and had no choice."
These concubines must be very wicked to stray so far from the Goddess' path. Perhaps they didn't train them very well in Thaleen. Or perhaps the King chose girls only for their beauty with no regard for their devotion. Maybe they weren't daughters of the Goddess at all, and had never been taught to how to serve. Yes, that must be it. He must be speaking of the free concubines who didn't know how to walk the Goddess' path. No wonder such girls struggled against him. She would never act so dishonourably, if only the Prince wanted her.
"Don't free women have a choice?"
"Oh, the free ones are the worst. They hate him all the more for locking them in the Tower and taking their life from them. They have no more choice than the slave girls, perhaps even less because of the illusion that they do. I've lost count of the number of women who've feigned interest in me because their father wanted making Lord, or their uncle wanted a commission. Or because they hoped one day I would make them Queen. They always want something. They don't want me, only what I can do for them. They want the Prince, not January. I'm not going to let anyone use me like that."
Her heart pounded as she weighed his words. She hadn't thought what life must be like for him. How his position must affect him. He must be so lonely.
"No, I want a woman that wants me. Until I'm convinced someone does, I won't take a concubine."
"I want you." The quiet words rang clear as a bell from her lips. What power had wrought her truth into sound? Heat rushed to her cheeks.
"You don't have to say that." Anger flashed across his face. "You're free now, you don't have to say the things they taught you. You don't have to pretend. Please don't lie to me."
The shame at spilling the truth vanished in the glare of his disbelief. Her heart turned over for him. Did he really think she didn't like him for himself? That she only wanted what he was, and not him?
"I'm not lying. I like you. I chose to come here to you. They let us express a preference, you know. They're not completely barbaric."
His face filled with the same look of confused pity, but this time Bilhah thought she saw a hint of sorrow beneath it, too. "What do you mean? You were sold. How could you have any choice?"
"I'm not supposed to tell you." Goddess, what was she thinking? It was forbidden to tell a Lord about the preference sheets. Most girls signed for many Lords. Knowing that his concubine had chosen others would surely provoke the one she was placed with into a jealous rage. Such things could start wars. But what did it matter tonight? She had already stepped from the true path, and the Prince wasn't going to buy any more Goddess girls. Who could she harm with the truth? She herself had only signed for one man, and she wanted him to understand she hadn't been placed here against her will. She swallowed down her misgivings. "They have lists. Of all the Lords who might want a concubine. We're allowed to choose who we prefer to be placed with. I chose you."
He stared at her, uncertain. "Did they tell you to say that? To make whichever fool you're sold to believe that you like him? No, it can't be true. We only just met, you don't know me at all. You're not even from Thaleen. Why would you choose me?"
There was sadness underneath his anger. Sadness born of isolation, born of the absence of knowing the comfort of true friendship. Bilhah had never known someone more in need of the Goddess' love.
"You're right, I only just met you. But I read about you, in the histories of the Houses. They said that you have your great grandfather's love of books. They said you're an abolitionist, and that you're not afraid of speaking out against injustice, even when that means standing against your father. I knew from what they wrote that you'd be brave and kind-hearted. The books were true, you're all those things and more. I'm glad I signed for you, even though you don't want me. At least I got to meet you and not just read about you. At least I'll be in Thaleen to see you become King. I'll tell everyone who gave me my freedom, and I'll pray for you every day."
His face bore a strange expression, as if he were wrestling against the words she had spoken. Shaking his head in conclusion, he replied, "No. I don't think so. I've never read a book that said such things."
"There won't be any copies in Thaleen. Your father rules with the sword and believes cruelty honours the Warrior. It would be dangerous to scribe such dissent inside his borders."
"Your books speak badly of my father?"
"Oh! Oh, well, I'm sure it's all lies. Written by his enemies no doubt." Goddess, what had she done now? Speaking against the King inside his own Palace! Concubines had died for less. She bit her lip.
"Don't worry, it's no secret that I'm not my father's greatest supporter. I'm just surprised. No one ever disagrees with him at court. They all act as if he's perfect. I'm the only one who challenges him. Sometimes I think I'm the only one that sees it. He makes me doubt myself, doubt that what I've come to believe is right. Every chance he gets he tells me that only the conquered agree with me. He thinks my friends are discontent because they don't have the Warrior's blessing, and that's why they have strange ideas. He says they're all revolutionaries who'll cut off my head and take the throne the moment he's in his grave. It's good to know there are others outside our borders who would welcome some change around here."
"There are many in Pellacre eager to see Thaleen return to the glory of her Convocation days. Many believe your reign will bring that. But I'm sure no one wishes bad fortune on the King."
He smiled self-consciously. Had she brought him some small measure of joy? The thought made her stomach flutter. Please Goddess, let me give him comfort if nothing else.
"Pellacre. Is that where you're from?"
"Yes."
"Whatever possessed them to bring you across two countries? You must have travelled for days. I'm sorry you've ended up so far from home."
Should she tell him why so few girls had signed for him? Explain why her friends had thought her mad for choosing him? No, it would only feed his insecurities. There was no benefit in encouraging his distrust of women. Best to reply simply. "Thaleen is my home now."
"Aren't you angry? Don't you care what they did to you?"
"Not angry, no. There's no point fighting what can't be changed. It was the will of the Goddess that I came here. She will watch over me on whatever path she sets before me."
"You seem so certain. I wish I had your faith."
The warm feeling rose again, giving strength to the butterflies swirling inside her. Goddess, how she longed to ease his pain. She had never imagined a Prince could be so full of care or seem so unhappy with his life.
"I will pray for you. I'll pray for you every day."
They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The lamps burned dim and the shadows lay still and deep around them. Bilhah shifted her legs under the covers, feeling them slip over her bare skin. She had forgotten that she wasn't wearing any clothes. Here she was, laying naked in bed next to a man, next to a Prince no less, and all he had done was talk. Who would believe it? None of her friends from the Goddess House, that was certain. She imagined trying to explain it. Adah would suck her teeth, and Chana would call her a liar. She couldn't help but giggle.
"What is it?" The Prince propped himself up on his elbow and tilted his head at her.
"It's nothing. I'm sorry." She hadn't meant to let the sound escape, but the room was so quiet every breath could be heard.
"You were laughing. What's funny?"
Oh Goddess, dare she tell him? She imagined Adah's eyebrows rising higher in disapproval. But Devorah... Devorah would be smiling. "I was just thinking that... Well, you know everyone will think you had me?"
The Prince frowned and seemed to take offence. "I said I wouldn't touch you." He hesitated, looking embarrassed, then added "I can't help what others think. The Gods know the truth."
"Yes, the Gods know the truth." She didn't want him to think she'd made an accusation. She had better explain. "I trust you. I know you'll keep your word. It's just, well, can you imagine if I told anyone? If I said I'd spent the night alone with a Prince and he never even touched me? They'd think you had me and I was lying to save my reputation. The more I denied it the worst it would be! No one would believe that you simply didn't want me." She smiled, hoping to lighten the mood, but he still looked serious.
"You think I don't want you?"
Was he joking? Surely he wasn't just being cruel? "If you wanted me you would've had me. It's your right."
His eyes grew wide in surprise. "I've no right. None." He shook his head and pressed his lips together. "You can't just buy people, it's not OK. I'm not going to force you, so it doesn't matter what I want."
Bilhah's breath rushed out of her body. Could it be? Could he really want her, after all? Or had she read too much into his words? He looked torn, like he was holding back a great tide of pain or hurt or desire. Oh, Goddess, could it really be?
"January, do you want me? Because if you did... well, you wouldn't be forcing me. I like you. I chose you. And they'll think it happened anyway, so we might as well do it. If you want me, you can have me."
He stared at her intently. "Why would you say that? You don't have to say that."
"I know. But I like you. I'll leave in the morning and I swear I won't bring you any trouble." She couldn't breathe. Oh, Goddess, did he like her? Did he really want her? All she'd ever wanted was to be his. If one night in his arms was all the Goddess would allow her then she would seize what little time they had together.
He looked distraught. "How can I tell? How can I tell if you really mean it?"
"I mean it." He wanted her. She was sure now that he must. Joy flowed through her veins as she pulled the bedclothes down to her hips, baring her breasts and the curve of her waist. "I mean it. I want you, January."
His mouth opened as his dark eyes slid over her body. "Oh Gods, you're so beautiful."
She smiled. "Do you really think so?" She had never been pretty for a girl on the concubine path. And she was too pale to be considered appealing in Thaleen. But perhaps he would want her anyway?
He did not reply with words. Instead, he gently placed a hand on top of her ribs and muttered "Oh Warrior." Then suddenly she was in his arms with his lips on top of hers and his body crushing into hers as their hearts beat against one another. His embrace was warm and his mouth was wet, and neither of them could tell which one of them was trembling. His hands roamed upwards, cupping her breast and his legs found their way between hers until he was on top of her with only the thin layer of his night clothes between them.
He kissed her again, deeply, holding his body against hers. He was so close but she had no fear, no dread of what he would soon do. No, she was ready to serve, ready to offer him the fullness of the Goddess' love. Tasting his lips, feeling his hands on her skin, it only made her more eager to give him every pleasure she could, to let him possess her completely, even if it was only for this one night. She could feel the strength of his desire in the firmness pressing between her legs. He wanted her. He wanted her and she would satisfy him. Just when she thought he would peel off his clothes and take her, he stopped and loosened his embrace. He rested his forehead against hers and screwed his eyes shut as if something were wrong. Was it her? Had she made a mistake? She waited, trying to still herself, praying he wouldn't let go. Goddess, don't let him stop now. Oh Goddess, let him have me. Let me really be his.
"Bilhah? Can I tell you something?"
She blinked her eyes open. His face was right next to hers, his breath grazing past her ear. He was so close it was as if their souls were touching. Oh, Goddess, don't let him stop. "Yes. Anything."
A shy smile darted across his face. "I've not done this before."
Did he mean it? Had he been so fearful of false affection that he had denied himself any portion of the Goddess' love? "But you could have anyone you liked?"
"I know. I know they expect me to do it. That I'm supposed to bed any woman who catches my attention, just like he does. But I can't. That's not who I am. They all just wanted to use me. They were trading it for something else. They didn't really want to do it. They didn't want me."
"I do. I want you, January. I won't ask anything more from you, nothing you haven't already freely given. I just want to spend one night in your arms."
His mouth spread into a broad smile. "I didn't believe you at first. But I do now." He lifted his face and opened his eyes, gazing into hers. He still looked unsure of himself. "Don't you mind? That I haven't done it before?"
"I don't mind. I haven't done it either. But they taught me how."
She lowered her eyes, staring at his lips, willing, praying for him to bring them back towards her own. The Goddess must have answered her because he began to kiss her once again, softly at first but soon growing deeper, growing full with urgent need. Four hands pulled at his clothes until finally he was taking her, his skin against her skin, her legs spread wide and his body pushing into hers. It felt strange but good, and there was no pain as she had expected. Instead, he felt slick and firm inside her and her flesh felt warm within his arms with his square shoulders above her and his hot breath blowing in gasps against her neck as she rode the rhythm of his movements.
She tried her best to lie still and not to look at him, as she had been taught. To let him take what he desired and not resist him. To avert her eyes so he did not sense within her gaze any judgement of his actions or his body. Above all, she must not cry. She didn't feel like crying, at least not in the way her teachers had meant. She felt like wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight against her body, felt like pulling him deeper still inside her. She felt like covering his open mouth with her own and tasting his kiss again. But she wanted to please him, so instead she lay still with her arms by her sides and let him take her love. He was breathing hard now, sometimes making small sounds, thrusting inside her faster and firmer, every muscle of his body taught. It felt good, it felt more than good, and she wished it would go on and on, except that he suddenly tensed and cried out, "Oh Gods!" and she felt him shiver as his seed spilled inside her, and then it was over.
He collapsed on top of her, his body now heavy, and still breathing hard. He muttered "Oh, Gods!" again, but did not move. Had she done it right? Had she pleased him well enough?
He raised himself tentatively onto his forearms and looked at her with concern. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine. It didn't hurt." She smiled shyly.
He smiled back, and rolled his body off her, laying down beside her and sighing. "I'm glad. I don't want to harm you. Oh Gods, come here." He held his arms open, so she turned onto her side and held him, wrapping one leg over his and resting her head on his shoulder.
"Was it how you thought it would be?" She spread her palm over his chest to feel his heart beating beneath her fingers.
"It was... Gods, it felt so good. Better than I thought. I can see why some men lose themselves in pursuit of it."
She can't have done it too badly then. Did he know the Goddess' love now? He certainly looked content.
"Was it how you thought? I suppose they teach you what to expect in the Goddess House?"
What made him care what she thought? She certainly hadn't been taught to expect that! Only that some Lords liked to talk afterwards. Perhaps he wanted that?
"I liked it. But I don't think I'm supposed to? Or at least, it doesn't matter as long as I show you the Goddess' love. But it felt good being close to you. And... well, it was quicker than I thought."
He laughed. "Well, that's because I like you. And you're very beautiful." He yawned and traced a lazy pattern with his hand across her back. "I'll never forget you, Bilhah."
Her heart swelled as a yawn overcame her too. "I'll never forget you either, January," she whispered.
He turned his head to kiss her forehead, leaving his mouth pressed against her as they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.