The Harem Master
The
Harem Master
MEGAN DERR
Lord Demir
has spent his life trying to appease a brutal, selfish king, and keep the concubines under his care alive—and now he is on the verge of losing everything. The council wants to abolish the harems, there are no heirs to the throne, and foreigner ambassadors control the Steward. One wrong move will tip tensions into civil war.
Crown Prince Ihsan
returns to find his home in turmoil, and the royal court so full of vipers it's impossible to say which of them will strike first. Removing his father from the throne, one way or another, should be a simple matter. Staying alive and proving himself a worthy king, however, will be far more difficult.
Crown Princess Euren
has spent the last five years in hiding so that she could not be used against her father or Ihsan. But she is the daughter of a soldier, never meant to wear a crown, never trained to fight battles where words are the weapon of choice. If she hopes to keep herself and her loved ones alive, she'll have to learn fast.
Note: This story contains polyamory.
The Harem Master
Tales of Tavamara 3
By Megan Derr
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
Edited by Samantha M. Derr
Cover designed by Aisha Akeju
This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
First Edition May 2015
Copyright © 2015 by Megan Derr
Printed in the United States of America
Digital ISBN 9781620044124
Print ISBN 9781620044131
OneDemir removed Nur's clothes from the cabinet and put them in the large basket already half-full of items that would first be offered up to the rest of the harem and after that donated to charity. His jewelry went into a special, beautifully carved chest with other precious items to be returned to Nur's family along with fifty gold pieces. Blood money.
His mouth tightened, but he said nothing. What was there to say? To whom would he say it? Everyone already knew and they were either too scared to act or did not care—rather, preferred circumstances precisely as they were.
When he was done with the clothes, Demir went through Nur's shoes and added all but two pairs to the basket. The remaining two would go straight on to charity, too worn out to be further used by concubines, which was probably why they'd been buried beneath everything else.
All that remained were the few decorative items that had added a bit of uniqueness to the otherwise lifeless cell. King Kagan wanted his concubines to look beautiful at all times but did not care how they lived. Did not care that they lived at all once he was done amusing himself. How had such a sacred practice turned so ugly? Demir had asked himself that question a thousand times, but he still had no answer.
Finished packing up Nur's belongings, Demir motioned for the servants who had accompanied him to carry out the baskets: one for sharing, one for charity, one for throwing out. He carried the chest himself, setting it on the hall floor briefly to lock the door and hang a cluster of white silk flowers he'd brought with him, delivered only an hour ago. They would stay there for six months, or until he was forced to take them down to make room for a new concubine. Because Divine knew His Majesty would probably not bother to wait the full six months of mourning.
Retrieving the chest, he motioned for the servants to take the baskets to where the concubines could look through them later, and the charity one to a storeroom until it was ready to be taken into the city.
Carrying the chest, he returned to the front entrance of the harem hall, formally known as the Jeweled Garden. Though called a hall, it was really more a wing of the palace. Those who entered stepped into the enormous front hall. Directly across from the entrance were two doors: one led to his office, the other to his private quarters. To the left of the entrance was the section of the hall reserved for the concubines of the queen and princesses. To the right of the entrance was the section reserved for the concubines of the king and princes. Currently, the only concubines occupying it were Kagan's and a few of the late queen's who had remained after her death. His Majesty's children had never had the chance to form their own harems.
When they reached the entry hall, he handed the chest off to waiting guards, who bowed low before taking it away to give to Nur's family.
Demir watched them, then looked around the entrance hall, ensuring all was well—as well as could be expected, anyway.
The entrance to the Jeweled Garden was a wide archway framed by columns painted dark red. The walls were red as well, further decorated with gold stripes laid to form a diamond pattern. The floor was comprised of tiles of red, blue, green, and gold. On each side of the wide entry hall were three circular nooks, framed by columns that matched the entrance, set in the floor with steps leading down into them. Each was lined with padded benches, a small table in the middle for trays of wine and food.
Only one nook was occupied, a far cry from when he was a boy and the harem hall was a bustling, happy place. Concubines studying, practicing, entertaining guests, always ready to serve their king and queen. Since Kagan had come to power, it had become a place where the concubines hid and waited, did only what they must, many of them wishing they were anywhere else, never having been given a choice in the matter.
The remaining ten guards stood stone-faced, posture tense instead of simply at attention. They were dressed all in black but with red sashes across their chests that marked them as serving the royal harems. Three concubines were huddled together in one of the inset circular benches along one side of the room, a guard standing in front of them. They cried quietly together, and Demir recognized them as those who had lived immediately beside and across from Nur.
It would not do for the wrong person to wander into the harem hall and see them crying. Demir caught the eye of the guard standing protectively in front of them. "Take them to the garden for a little while, have wine brought. If they still are too distressed to return to their rooms, they can sleep in mine tonight."
"Yes, Lord Demir," the guard replied and bowed before turning and attending to the concubines.
Demir returned to his office and settled behind his desk, looking over the paperwork, sorting out what needed to be done. He paused as he came to the schedule for that evening, frowning at the note Ruth, his head guard, had left.
The frown turned into a scowl as he read the note. Merciful Divine preserve him, he was going to kill His Majesty. King Kagan had demanded dancers for the Festival of Winter Stars. For three months he had done nothing but harangue Demir endlessly about the dancing. Now he was demanding dueling instead? With singing to follow. Divine grant him patience.
Standing again, Demir returned to the concubines' living quarters. "In the practice hall, now!"
Twenty-four concubines in all followed him out of the living quarters and back to the main hall, then down another hallway to the practice rooms. All the way at the end was the primary practice hall, nearly as large as the grand dining room.
Fifteen of the concubines were dancers, meant to perform in three groups at certain intervals throughout the long, elaborate banquet. They had been practicing the Starlight Dances for months. Demir half-hoped they rioted. Unfortunately, like him, they were long used to their cruel, mercurial king.
When they were assembled, Demir stood on the small dais against the wall, looking out over his concubines, chest aching with the recent loss of Nur and the dread of which one the king would kill next. They were beautiful, all of them, and worked so hard to be excellent concubines despite the fact they'd nearly all been forced into the life.
Each one snatched from his life because the king took a fancy and wanted another flower for his garden. Too many killed because they had been easy targets for the king's anger.
"His Majesty has sent me a note ordering that instead of the dance, we are to prepare a duel. Dancers, be certain you are ready anyway. I have no doubt he will change his mind again at the last moment. Duelists, practice the routines we used for the summer festivities, add whatever variations you are comfortable with. Where are my singers?"
"Here, Your Majesty," called a familiar voice from the back belonging to a tall, beautiful woman with hair that nearly reached the floor, swaying heavily with jeweled beads and tiny bells at the end.
Normally on the death of their monarch, concubines were released from service. But most of the twenty women who had formed the late queen's harem had remained, partly because His Majesty was fond of their singing and dancing, but also because the life of a concubine offered more security than striking out on their own after so many years in the palace. And every day they waited in dread that their time would run out, that they would be cast out, or worse draw his ire and be killed.
And no one could do anything because there was no heir. Crown Prince Ihsan had gone to war, against all laws, five years ago and had not been heard from in nearly four. Prince Altan had been exiled by the king eight years ago, and two years ago his only daughter, Princess Zehra, had become pregnant out of wedlock and was executed for the crime.
Demir still remembered how she had trembled in his arms before boarding the ship he'd bribed to take her away. Smuggling her out had not been easy, but the danger had been worth it. He prayed every day that she was safe and happy.
If only Ihsan or Altan would return; either of them had to be better than King Kagan. But the likelihood of that was practically non-existent. Altan had been exiled at age fifteen. If alive, he would be twenty-three, only three years past the age of adulthood, and in exile it was unlikely he had learned anything of what it took to rule a country. Crown Prince Ihsan would be recently turned twenty-six, but he'd been at war the past five years, and not communicated with the palace for four of those. Nor had anyone heard from his wife, Princess Euren, who would legally be allowed to take the throne though it wouldn't make anyone happy to have someone not a blood member of the royal line as their monarch. Though no formal pronouncement had ever been made, the entire palace believed Prince Ihsan dead. If he was alive, there was a strong chance he'd abandoned Tavamara entirely. The only way there would be an heir to the throne was for Kagan to marry again, which seemed unlikely.