29 Lillotha, Yuarej

“It appears that I am to lose everything, my love,” Soldan Andouk said to his first and only wife. A courier riding an exhausted horse to the capital of Yuarej soldanate had delivered the soldan-shah's summons. “Honestly, I didn't expect Omra to take so long to act against us. It's been years since Cliaparia's… crimes.”

He had been about to say Cliaparia's death, but that wasn't the part the soldan-shah would react to. He had unequivocally forgiven Istar for murdering Andouk's dear but treacherous daughter. Cliaparia had deserved to be killed.

Sharique tucked her feet beneath her as she curled up beside him on the bedcushions. She stroked his hair, kept her voice gentle. “Have faith, husband. Perhaps Omra has something else in mind. His letter makes no mention of revenge for what our daughter did.”

Soldan Andouk was a thin, rabbitlike man, who had good reason to be nervous. He shook his head, unconvinced. His eyes were weary, his shoulders bowed by the invisible weight on them. “I suppose I should give thanks for these last six years, though I have not enjoyed them. The soldan-shah could have sent his men here to execute us at any time. How can a man forgive the murder of his firstborn son?”

“This is a summons for all First Wives,” Sharique pointed out. “It is not targeted at you, or me. I think someone else must have offended him.”

Leaning back in their bed, Andouk let out a long sigh. Torches burned in their holders outside the stone archway. The faint buzz of insect song in the forested hills, normally a peaceful sound, now grated on his nerves.

Years earlier, he and Sharique had reached the pinnacle of happiness when their lovely but far too ambitious daughter was chosen as a new wife for Zarif Omra. Andouk had thought the fortunes of Yuarej were improving, a new sun rising upon the small and peaceful soldanate. But he'd been oblivious to schemes Cliaparia worked to gain power in the Olabar palace. Even asa girl, she had been power-hungry. He had been blind to his daughter's flaws.

And someone had to pay for it.

Devastated to learn of Cliaparia's murder, Andouk had at first cried out for revenge, but he quickly learned the truth of the matter. After that, Andouk was a broken and shamed man, living in fear that armed soldiers would arrive one day to seize him and his wife.

Now this unexpected and ominous summons…

Sharique read the document herself, again and again. She was an educated woman, though she remained silent at court, advising her husband only in his private chambers. The two kept to themselves, tending the business of the soldanate. Far from relishing his position as soldan, however, Andouk longed for the peaceful, unremarkable life of a normal man. Taxes on the silk trade, which supplied so much fabric to the war effort, allowed them a comfortable existence.

As a consequence of his quiet lack of ambition, wealthy merchants grew wealthier; Andouk had no doubt that they were cheating him of taxes, altering numbers in their ledger books. They had made him irrelevant, a figurehead. And he didn't have the power, influence, or stamina to call them to account. So long as the Uraban army and navy received its required goods, the soldan-shah did not interfere with the running of any individual soldanate.

Year after year, Soldan Andouk brushed aside the small slights. Not wanting to spark a confrontation or draw attention to himself, he remained in mental retreat from what his daughter had done. But, like slivers being whittled away from a piece of wood, each affront he ignored exposed more egregious behavior. By establishing settlements on the northern border of Yuarej, however, his rival Soldan Huttan was practically declaring war. Andouk had sent repeated complaints to Olabar, to no effect.

And now Omra had commanded that all soldans send their First Wives to the palace. As hostages? As sacrifices?

The sikaras and nobles had long pressured Andouk to take additional wives who would give him sons and heirs. But Sharique was his only wife, because he wanted no one else. She satisfied his needs. After Cliaparia's treachery, Andouk wasn't sure he wanted other children…. He did enjoy his visits with his granddaughter Cithara, but since the girl was raised by Istar, Andouk was sure he had lost her, too.

He looked over at his beloved. “What am I to do?” Perhaps he should just abdicate, move into a home in a small village somewhere, run a mulberry grove for the silkworms.

Sharique lifted her chin and looked as brave as Andouk wished he could feel. “You are going to send me to Olabar, and I will stand proudly before the soldan-shah, for I am the wife of the Yuarej soldan.” She kissed him. “Don't worry, husband. You are a good man, and I believe the soldan-shah is too. Urec will watch over us all.”