June, 1617

"All reverence to Nasir, first of his name, King of Valentia!"

The palace square in Iska rang with the herald's words, announcing the ascension of the exiled nephew to the former king's empty throne. The people, wary of repercussions following the mob's behavior within the palace itself on the night of the old king's death, sang the new king's praises with as much hope and joy as they dared. Would he punish, or pardon' How long would they have to wait until they knew for sure"

Curious eyes turned to the balcony high above, a place that was known to be close to the king's own chambers; other eyes turned toward the Palace of Pearls, in which the harem had been gathered once again. They all knew the new king's mother had taken charge, had repopulated the harem after the attack. They all knew Lady Shahista would have more than a little influence on the policies her son implemented in the days and weeks to come. Yet more were curious about the presence of Carib Horse Lords, and the High King's son, Prince Felipe. Pomerania's hand stretched across the continent, reinforcing their king's place on his new throne, reminding Valentia of their former fealty and of the strength of the Goddess through her Church. It would be a fool who pushed back, especially after watching the way Carib had been brought to heel.

Within the palace itself, in the grand hall where court was held and governance took place, Prince Felipe stood behind the throne of the new king, one hand resting lightly on the sword at his hip. His eyes scanned the room, noting those who seemed nervous, those who seemed too bold. There were too many men here, he thought, grateful for the presence of the eight Horse Lords who stood guard alongside the Valentin guardsmen. Too many men whose allegiance was unclear. They had to discover the heretics here in the palace in short order, or Nasir would not long be in control of his own land.

Without realizing it, Felipe found himself glancing upward, toward the screened gallery above, behind which Lady Shahista and her lady-companion watched the court below. Yes, if she could surround her son with men loyal to him and to the Church, then Felipe would feel confident to leave. He had faith in Nasir, despite the man's lack of training for the role he now filled. There was a certain fire in him that reminded the Pomeran prince of his older brothers.

As for Nasir, though he might look the part, he did not so much feel it; and though he might look confident sitting there on what had until recently been his uncle's throne, he did not feel confident. If it were not for the guards and the Horse Lords flanking him, he would feel naked. Though he could not say he grieved his uncle's death, he had been told of the atrocities that had followed and could not help but wonder how far the heretics were willing to go to secure control of Valentia. Would they dare raise a hand against him or his mother" Not now, perhaps, but later" He had come to know Felipe during the journey here, as well as in Carib, and was happy to call him friend, but how were they going to root out the traitors and bring them to justice" That was the first problem at hand. Once they solved that, perhaps there could be peace. Perhaps he could learn to be a good king to his people. Perhaps.

Aaron Shanin, one of the few men Nasir could be absolutely confident of, approached the throne, bowing low before his king as the murmur of voices came to a halt.

"Majesty," he intoned, his voice low but piercing, "the people fear reprisals for the attack on the palace. What are your orders, that they may be told who must fear and who must not?"

Nasir frowned at the question, not because he was not sure how to answer but because he needed his people to know that he took the attacks seriously and that he would not tolerate any further such violence in the future.

"Attack is not a strong enough word for the atrocities which took place here in Iska." He moved slowly to his feet, so that he could look out on his people and have them know that he was not someone to be trifled with, no matter how inexperienced he might be. "Let it be known that I, King Nasir of Valentia, will not tolerate such violence against my people. Only those who are guilty of such atrocities need fear reprisal, but let them be warned - we will find those responsible and they will receive their just punishments."

Felipe was watching the nervous men of the government as Nasir spoke. Several of them blanched, glanced tellingly toward the bolder men. He caught the eye of Erkan Fehr, and the older man nodded. He'd seen it, too. Those men would be questioned, later.

"It shall be proclaimed, majesty," Aaron Shanin declared, bowing to the king before turning to pass word to the herald outside.

Felipe bent to speak quietly to Nasir. "There are too many enemies in here," he murmured. "Do what needs to be done and return to the security of your quarters, or the Palace of Pearls. Your loyalists know who to target next."

Perhaps it was foolish to make such a declaration in public so soon after being crowned King, but Nasir needed his enemies to know that he would not tolerate any further violence. He needed them to know that the guilty parties would be found and dealt with, whether that put his own life in danger or not. He had put his life in the hands of those he trusted in order to flush out the heretics, and it seemed from the looks on a few faces in the crowd, they had accomplished just that.

Nasir's expression remained stoic as Felipe whispered in his ear. "Close the palace gates!" he ordered with an outward sweep of his hand. "No one leaves until the guilty parties are found," he said, in no uncertain terms.

There was an outcry from the men in the hall, a surge of movement toward the throne, but the guards, at least, were loyal to their king. The Valentin men drew their swords to hold back the surge as the Horse Lords blocked the way to the king; the sound of doors slamming open betrayed that other guards were moving to obey.

"Good," Felipe murmured. "They need to be separated and watched."

Nasir murmured an assent with a short nod of his head, but remained where he was, refusing to appear alarmed at the surge of movement toward the throne, confident those loyal to the throne would protect him. He had not been so brave or confident when he'd been exiled a few years ago, but he had been a different man then.

"This is dangerous, Felipe," he murmured quietly to his friend and ally. "We may have stirred a hornet's nest."

"Far better to sort the wheat from the chaff before it has a chance to take root," Felipe assured his friend. "Things will be tense for a week, perhaps a little longer. There will be executions. And while you and I are cleaning house in the palace and government, my brother's agents will be doing the same in the city." Stephan and Maksim's letter crinkled in his belt as he bowed a little lower. "We need you surrounded by friends and allies, and we will do it," he promised his friend. "Although your mother seems a little more determined that you breed as many of the concubines in the harem as you can."

"The sooner I produce an heir, the sooner we secure the throne," Nasir explained, though the thought of choosing from all the women his mother had chosen for him did very little to excite him. It was the way of his people, but the thought of impregnating as many of the harem as he could sounded exhausting.

"Let us hope Lady Shahista is as discerning with the harem as your people are with your court," Felipe murmured, watching as the hall finally began to calm. "Will you be visiting her in the Palace of Pearls now?" he asked softly. That was the one place he could not accompany the king - nor could any of the king's guards. Even the armed guards in the harem palace were female.

"If I do not, she will be offended. Do you know the saying, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'?" he asked, watching as the people in the hall calmed and quieted. "One does not scorn my mother and escape retribution, but she misses me. Perhaps she will go soft on me," he said, turning his head slightly toward Felipe with the faintest of smiles on his face.

"That does sound familiar," Felipe mused softly, a faint smile of his own showing in his eyes. "But then, my mother is your aunt, after all. They obviously learned it from the same woman."

"That they did," Nasir said, turning to Felipe and laying a hand on his shoulder, demonstrating to all who were paying attention his trust in this young man who not only his friend and ally, but his cousin. "I will leave you to it then, and see what intrigues my mother has planned," he said with a hint of amusement in his eyes, despite the gravity of the situation.

"To gain an heir, you need only want the woman," Shaista said gently. "To choose a wife, you must know her, and that can only happen if you spend time with her. To do that, you must choose a companion for tonight, and another for tomorrow night, until you find one you wish to know more of."

He frowned thoughtfully, already understanding what his mother was telling him. "I did not ask to be king," he said quietly, mostly to himself. There was some irony in that his uncle had exiled him for fear he'd usurp the throne, and here he was, the reluctant king. This was not how he thought his life would be, but he was loyal enough to his country to do his duty, and right now, that duty was producing an heir.

His mother's hand stroked over his hair for a moment. "No, my love, you did not," she said sadly. "And had my brother not been insane, you would never have needed to take on this duty. But, my son, you would still have had a harem, and the opportunity to choose a companion for your life from among them. This is a difficulty every man of wealth and nobility in Valentia must traverse."

"But I would not have been pressured to produce an heir," he pointed out, letting her stroke his hair, just as she'd done when he'd been a boy. As the youngest of three sons, she had always favored him, though now he was the only son left. It had been heart-wrenching for both of them to witness his brothers' deaths - a betrayal for which he had never forgiven his uncle. He owed her nothing less than his life for convincing her brother - his uncle - to spare him.

"No," she agreed softly. "But you will be a great king, a better king than many who went before you. Clovis tried to break you, to break all of us, but instead he hardened you into diamond, precious and strong. And your sons will know you for the good man you are."

She spoke to something deep inside him - a sense of pride and a desire to do better than those who'd gone before him. It wasn't just about vengeance or justice anymore; it was about proving his own worth and being a good king for all his people. He had to blink away tears for a moment as memories of the day they'd both lost everything and everyone they cared about replayed in his mind and he found himself reaching for her hand. "Do you think Father would be proud?" he asked, his voice hushed.

Shahista's perfect composure crumbled for a brief moment at the mention of the man who had never married her, but had loved her exclusively since the day she had borne his first son. She swallowed, her hand squeezing Nasir's shoulder tight for a brief moment. "He would have been honored to know that you are his son."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, as if to remind her that he was there - home at last and not about to let anyone hurt her again. It was because of her he had not suffered the same fate as his father and brothers, but she already knew how grateful he was to her for it. "I suppose I should greet them," he said, as if entering his harem was such a chore.

Shahista laughed unexpectedly. "If you walk down there, you will be inviting every one of them to tear your first companion to pieces," she warned him in amusement. "You are very handsome, my son. They do not yet know this." She smiled at her son fondly. "I would like to invite four here to this room, to dance for you as you eat and relax. You may find a face you wish to see more of without causing a riot."

He turned his head to arch a brow at her, a little surprised to hear her compliment him a second time. Of course, she was biased because he was her son. The women of the harem would likely be more interested in him for his position than his looks, or so he assumed. "Very well," he agreed. "Shall I choose or would you like to choose for me?"

"If there are any who have caught your eye, then you should tell me," she assured him, but she knew who she would call for if he had not made that decision yet.

Nasir paused as his gaze moved over the women in the harem. There were some who were strikingly more beautiful than the others, but he was wise enough to know that beauty was not everything he needed in a wife. As for a concubine, all he needed was someone who he found desirable. He was about to choose at random when he took a harder look, not only noting the forms and faces of the women but their expressions, their mannerisms, the way they interacted with each other. Did they appear haughty or friendly; shy or outgoing; withdrawn or inviting"

Perhaps a few faces stood out, or perhaps they didn't. Shahista watched her son in amusement for a moment, seeing the indecision weighing on him, conflicting with his desire to take care not to choose any woman who might be subject to unworthy influences. She laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Come and sit, I will call for some of them to entertain you as you relax," she told him.

Admittedly, they were all attractive, but it was a relief not to have to choose one over the others. He rubbed at a temple before turning and letting his mother lead him back to the couch. It had been a long journey from Carib, and he'd had little time to rest before being crowned king. Everything was happening so fast, he'd had little time to absorb it all.

"Very well," he agreed, allowing his mother to decide for him. Whoever won his attention tonight was likely to be disappointed, as he was too tired and too worried to give her all his attention.

Shahista took a moment to speak with her maid, who slipped from the room to gather the desired girls from the harem. Shahista herself closed the shutter, muting the chatter from below, before moving to sit with her son, encouraging him to eat.

"Your health is most important, my love," she told him firmly. "You must look after yourself."

"I have managed to look after myself quite well these past three years," Nasir pointed out, a little defensively. He knew she was only speaking as a mother who cared about her son, but he had become a man long ago without anyone else's help. He sighed, as he realized his words probably sounded a little too harsh. "I'm sorry. It has been a long day," he told her gently.

"And I am fussing," she accepted with a gentle smile of her own. "Please ....eat." As she spoke, a soft knock on the door announced the arrival of the entertainment. "Come!"

A trio of musicians filed in, taking their place out of the way, as four young women followed, curtsying to their king. One blonde, one raven-haired, the others chestnut brunettes, they each carried themselves with quiet confidence, but there was a boldness in the way the blonde girl met his gaze invitingly before lowering her eyes once again. Behind her, the black-haired girl rolled her eyes at the floor.

Nasir made himself as comfortable as he could on the couch, munching on various finger foods and sipping at wine - all of it tasted in advance to ensure there was no poison. The women his mother had chosen for him were pleasing to the eye, each as different from the other as night and day, but just as lovely. He found himself smirking a little at the blonde's boldness, but even more so at the raven-haired girl's eyeroll. He didn't say a word, except to offer a smile, as was expected.

At his mother's nod, the musicians began to play, a gentle melody that leant itself to calm and relaxation. As the women began to dance, their movements were slow and smooth, equally relaxing to watch, their faces offering a fascinating array of shyness and boldness in the smiles they dared to offer to their king as they performed for him.

Shahista sipped from her cup as she watched her son. "How long do you propose to keep the palace sealed?" she asked him curiously.

"A few days," he replied, somewhat distracted by the almost hypnotic beat of the music and dancing. He was already tired, and the more he relaxed, the more likely it was he might fall asleep before he had a chance to choose which one he found the most pleasing. There was no right or wrong in the choosing, and he was free to enjoy as many of his harem as he wished; but three years in Carib had played a part in shaping him, and he had grown envious of the love shared between king and queen.

"And no one is permitted to leave or enter?" Shahista pressed gently. She was very curious about how he was impressing his authority on the palace and the populace but, she reflected, if he wasn't asleep before the dance ended, he soon would be.

She glanced up at the dancers, watching as the blonde - a former slave girl named Raya - gave up her position in the forefront reluctantly to the raven-haired girl behind her. Given the foreground, for a few moments anyway, this one raised hazel-brown eyes to Nasir as arms and hips moved hypnotically to the rhythm, a smile hidden there that was only his to see. Shahista glanced at her son. That one was one of her own favorites from the harem.

"That is no reason to lash out at each other," Nasir said, but his statement was directed more to Raya than to the others. He sighed again, gently dabbing at the blood on the girl's cheek, close enough that she could see the signs of weariness in him, close enough that he could see how shaken she was. "Very well. I will not challenge my mother's wisdom in this matter," he said, looking again from one to the other. Raya's fate was in Shahista's hands now.

Raya visibly snarled, but her way to Safiya was blocked by the harem mistress who, by custom, carried a large heavy staff. Shahista frowned, but did not take back her orders, gesturing for the girls to leave. She paused, studying the way Nasir was tending to the little injury with his own hands.

"I will have the female physician see to her," she told her son, scowling at Safiya, who lowered her eyes once again, ashamed of the scene that had been created.

"Stay," Nasir said, one hand touching Safiya's arm to keep her from leaving. "Bring the physician here," he told his mother, ignorant of the fact that this one was secretly her favorite. He hardly noticed Raya now, or the fuss she was making. If his mother decided to exile her to the old palace, he deemed she had good reason to do so.

Shahista nodded, though she was clearly furious at the poor behavior. She marched through the door herself, calling for her own secretary to fetch the female physician. The last remaining young woman swallowed uncertainly - this was not how she had expected her first meeting with the king to go.

Left alone with the raven-haired young woman, Nasir took her hand and drew her toward the couch. "Sit," he told her gently with a wave of his hand toward the couch. Whatever anger he'd been feeling was diminished in his concern for the girl's well-being, and now that his mother and the other women had departed, he felt they could speak freely. "Has she always hated you like this?"

Easing down to sit on the couch, Safiya glanced worriedly toward the door, knowing that the Queen-Mother would return soon. "Raya is ..." She sighed, shaking her head. "Raya is very beautiful, and she is very proud of that," she said softly. "She has always been very sure that she would be your first choice of companion, and will bear your majesty's first son. She is ....perhaps a little arrogant."

Nasir frowned, even as he poured a second glass of wine and handed it to her. "My desire is for a peaceful kingdom, and that peace should extend to my harem," he explained, so very different from his uncle. "I am sorry about your sisters," he continued, setting himself beside her and leaning in to take another look at her cheek. "I do not like violence, though sometimes it is necessary," he confessed.

Surprised to find herself taking a glass from the hand of her king, Safiya almost smiled, but for the sting in her cheek. "Where women live together closely and are expected to compete for the love of one man, there will always be arguments," she told him quietly. "It is in our nature. But when argument becomes harm done to others, that is when the peace is threatened. In truth, Raya will not let this rest, even in the old palace. She will blame me for destroying her chance."

"She has no one to blame but herself," Nasir pointed out, but he did not want to argue. He wasn't sure what could be done about Raya; that was a matter for his mother to decide. He sighed again and moved to his feet, pacing the room idly, hands behind his back, a troubled frown upon his face. "There is no reason for the women to compete for my attention, except where their own ego is concerned. They are safe and well cared for. They have their sisters for companions. Is it only that they wish to have a child, or is it because they wish to have the child of a king?" he asked.

"Our purpose is to satisfy you, to provide you with sons," she said, still speaking quietly. She hesitated before continuing. "And the only means we have of having our voices heard is to earn your trust, and hope that you may listen to us someday. Everyone hopes to become queen, though we know we should not expect it. I was raised in the harem; so was Raya. So were many of our sisters. You are our king, but more than that, you are ours. We are encouraged to hope that someday ours will become ....mine."

"Sons," Nasir echoed, giving her a pointed look. "But not daughters?" he asked. He had spent some years in the harem as a boy, but much of what went on there had been beyond his understanding. Even now, as a grown man and newly-crowned King of Valentia, the harem was still something of a mystery to him. He sighed again as he sank down on the cushions, folding his hands in his lap. "I have spent the last three years in exile in Carib. I have seen what a man and woman can mean to each other. I have seen the kind of bond that can develop between them, a bond so strong that no one can break. My mother wishes me to have many sons, many heirs, but I only wish for one woman who might try to understand me and take me into her heart. I am not sure I can please all the women in my harem. Most men would envy my position, but I find the thought of pleasing so many women ....exhausting."

"The mother of your heir, if she lives to his accession, will have influence still even once you are gone," she tried to explain, though it was a little uncomfortable. She couldn't help smiling a little wistfully at his description of the bonds between men and women in another land. "Valentia is very different from the rest of the world," she agreed. "Perhaps you can begin to change it, in some small way. But it is not your duty to please the women in your harem. It is our duty, and our privilege, to please you."

Those gentle eyes found his for a long moment, her hand hesitating before she reached out to touch his hand. "We are not taught to hope for love, majesty," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

The doors opened, and she snatched her hand back, rising to curtsy to Lady Shahista as she re-entered with the physician.

Shahista barely glanced at the girl, gesturing for the physician to check her over as she turned her attention to her son. "You are well, Nasir?"

Nasir met the girl's gaze with an expression that seemed almost sad. He had not yet admitted to anyone everything that was troubling him, not even his mother. He had to be strong if he was going to be king, if he was going to bring peace to his people and rid them of the heretics. His thoughts turned again to his cousins and their wives, wishing he could find such a woman for himself - a woman who didn't just want to give him an heir so that she could elevate her own station. He might have told her as much if his mother hadn't interrupted, bringing the physician along with her.

"I am tired, Mother," he admitted, letting her see a little of his frustration.

Shahista touched his shoulder gently. "You have not been sleeping," she said quietly. "Company will tire your body, force your mind to sleep." She glanced across the room at the physician and the girl, her expression darkening. "Someone less problematic, perhaps."

"I see no problem," Nasir contradicted his mother, despite the scratches on the young woman's cheek, which she had suffered through no fault of her own.

Shahista looked back at him, her brows relaxing as she considered his thoughts on the matter. "Very well," she agreed. "I will give orders for her to be prepared and brought to you when you retire."

"It would help to know her name," he said, his gaze drifting from that of his mother to the dark-haired woman in their presence.

"Her name is Safiya," his mother told him quietly, watching him as he watched the girl tilt her head to let the physician clean the little scratch and stroke a thin layer of salve over it to help the wound heal. "She knows nothing of life beyond the harem. Queen Maria's people found her in the dock markets of Seles when she was four years old, and brought her here."

"I see," Nasir quietly replied, watching as the physician spread salve against the young woman's cheek. He remained quiet a moment, his thoughts his own, before turning back to his mother. "With your leave, I am going to retire to my rooms," he told his mother, offering a small respectful bow, despite the fact that he was now king.

"Yes," he replied. "Until they are caught by the Horse Lords and broken to saddle and bridle. I spent the last three years in Carib. It is an interesting place, but it is not home," he told her, gesturing for her to settle beside him. It was doubtful much would come of this first night, but he welcomed her warmth and companionship.

Invited closer, she slid over the sheets to lie against the cushions with him, her head propped on her hand. "Is it so very different there?" she asked him curiously. "I have heard such strange things - of a queen who fights like a man, of a court where men and women mingle, and women have rank and influence as men do?"

"All those things are true," he confirmed. "But neither the king or queen are originally from Carib," he explained. "Queen Brynhilde is originally from Edessa, where men and women can both learn to fight, and the king's eldest child inherits the throne, whether that child be male or female."

Safiya's eyes lit up. "Edessa is a real place?" she asked in amazement. "I have heard so many stories, but I did not dream to think that it truly existed. Everywhere is so far away from Valentia."

"Carib is not so far," he pointed out, as he lounged against the pile of cushions and pillows, encouraging her to do the same. "Nor is Lotharingia, but I fear it is Lotharingia we have to blame for the heretics in the palace."

She lowered her head onto her arm against the pillows, her other hand coming to rest in the narrow space between them as she watched his face. "They say that Tipora is a rebel stronghold in these times," she said thoughtfully. "That our troubles come from there, because the heretics have such a strong hold on the region around it."

"You should not have to worry about such things, Safiya," he told her, reaching over to touch her cheek, careful of the place where Raya had scratched her. "I should not even speak of such things," he said, worried he might tell her something that could put her in danger. He lifted one arm in invitation for her to nestle against him, though it seemed he was too weary for physical intimacy just yet.

She smiled gently, taking his invitation to nestle against his side, her hand finding a place to rest over his heart as her cheek settled against his shoulder. In other lands, it would be unthinkable for a man to expect a woman to give him such casual affection on the day of their first meeting - worse to invite her to his bedchamber and expect her to spend the night there. But this was Valentia, where it was commonplace for a man to be calm and confident with the gentle affections of his harem women.

"I have no political agenda," she reminded him softly. "No affiliation with anyone but you. It is safe to speak to me of your worries. I will not share them with anyone."

"Not even with my mother or the other women of the harem," he told her, feeling as though he could trust her, though he wasn't sure why. There had been a time when he might have called her friend, but that had been many years ago. "I do not think it would be wise to welcome Raya back into the harem. I want the harem to be a peaceful place, where the women can live in harmony with each other. I suppose that is foolish of me, but I want them to be happy."

Safiya tried not to laugh. It wasn't that his words were particularly funny; more that he didn't seem to understand the real friction in the harem. "There are more than forty of us, majesty," she told him quietly. "Even the most beautiful, even those who believe themselves to have a better chance, know that it is exceptionally rare for the king to lie with all his harem women. At most, there have been twenty concubines at a single time in history. While we are in the royal harem, we are for your enjoyment only; we cannot meet other men, or join their harems. Forty women competing for the attention of a single man will always cause problems."

"Then perhaps there should be fewer women in the harem," he reasoned, logically enough. He did not say how this could come to pass, as he'd have to give it some thought and speak to his mother and perhaps some of his advisers before anything took place, but it seemed absurd to him to keep so many women imprisoned in the harem, when he had no need of them.

She was silent at this, already considering the possible repercussions of his reasoning for her. If she spent tonight at his side, and tomorrow the queen-mother began to clear the harem of most of those who lived there ....the connection would be obvious in many minds. She did have several friends among the women of the harem, but after Raya's departure, that woman's faction would be out for revenge. But this was not something she was going to tell her king. "You need to rest, majesty," she said in her soft way. "Is there anything I can do to help you find sleep?"

It was funny in a way that she was trying to help him sleep when she'd be through so much more than him, or so he thought. "Just stay close," he told her, as he drew an arm around her waist. "Are you very disappointed in me?" he asked, as heavy eyelids drifted closed, his words thick with sleepiness.

Her fingers stroked gently against his chest as he began to sink toward sleep, a soft smile curving her lips. "How could I be disappointed in you, majesty?" she asked him in her quiet way. "You are everything I had hoped for. There will be other nights."

"Sleep well, Safiya," he murmured as his weary mind drifted toward sleep, a soft smile on his lips at her gentle reassurance. Though his exile in Carib had not been altogether unpleasant, he was glad to be home and in the care of a woman he knew he could trust.