And I Darken
Page 62
“Why are you telling us this?” Lada said, her voice flat.
“I am doing you a favor. Be gracious. Theodora, after many years, ended up accepting Christianity and living an honest but simple life of spinning wool near the palace. That is where she met Justinian. Emperor Justinian. Perhaps it was her cleverness that attracted him, her humble roots, her…experience. Regardless, he fell in love with her. He threw out the laws that prevented him from marrying an actress, and she was crowned empress. Not empress consort, mind you. Full empress, full partner with her husband. Imagine.” Huma paused, her gaze going far away and soft. Then, she returned to herself. “She went from entertaining men on stage and behind it, to ruling all of Byzantium. She crushed a rebellion when her husband would have run, she improved laws for all women under her rule, and she helped build the most beautiful cathedral in all the world—the Sancta Sophia. It stands in Constantinople to this day as a testament to what Theodora and her husband accomplished together.” Huma leaned forward. “She never picked up a sword, but thirty thousand traitors died under her command. She was a prostitute, bowing to any man with enough coin, then a woman who never again bowed to anyone. And do you think she did that wearing trousers?”
“She still needed a man,” Lada said, her eyes slits.
Huma showed her teeth in a predatory approximation of a smile. “You understand the story perfectly.” She coughed, a dry, rattling sound, and it was a while before she could speak again.
“Can I get you anything?” Radu asked.
She waved him away. “I understand your position, better than you know,” she said to Lada. “But you are holding Mehmed back. Make a decision, Lada. If you do not wish to marry my son, release him.”
Lada stood straight, sputtering. “I have no hold on Mehmed!”
Radu, too, could not believe what he was hearing. “There has never been talk of marriage, to anyone!” He looked to Lada for confirmation. It was the three of them—together—and had always been. There was no love between Lada and Mehmed that Radu and Mehmed did not also share. No, he would have seen it. And Radu and Mehmed shared the bond of a brotherhood of faith, which surely drew them closer than any bond Mehmed shared with Lada.
Huma shook her head. “Mehmed wanted to return to Amasya immediately. I persuaded him to stay in Edirne to create connections, build a foundation of strength. Little has changed since he left. I have nothing, not the esteem of my husband”—she spat the word like a fig gone rotten—“and not the promise of a son who will ever be able to keep the throne I have secured for him. He should be capitalizing on his success against Hunyadi, not yearning to return to this forsaken place. But he has been so content with his dear, faithful friends here that he has not been paying attention to the things that matter. So I tell you again: let him be free of your hold.”
A chill flowed from Lada’s mouth, her cold fury palpable. “You will have to excuse my confusion. Freedom is not something with which I am well acquainted.”
“This is foolish.” Radu held out his hands and tried to sound lighthearted. “Mehmed has spent all this time studying, preparing to rule. And we would never hold him back from that. You know that we would do—have done—anything to protect Mehmed.”
“Oh yes, I know. But he does not know, does he? And if I ever suspect you two are getting in my way, I will not hesitate to remove you.”
Radu’s blood went cold. Huma could have them killed, doubtless. But worse, still: she could tell Mehmed the truth of how he had lost the throne. They would lose him forever. Radu could not imagine a life without him.
No, that was not the problem. The problem was that he could perfectly imagine a life without Mehmed. He had lived it all the years of his childhood, and he never wished to go back to that cold and lonely state, even if Lada was forced along with him.
Huma stood, letting her embroidery drop to the ground. “I have other business to attend to. Do not forget what we have spoken of.” As she left, she stepped on the cloth as though the hundreds of hours of work that had gone into the stitches were nothing.
T WO WEEKS AFTER HUMA’S painful visit and quick return to the capital, a full month after the Janissaries returned but Mehmed did not, Lada once again made excuses for why she could not join Nicolae’s contingent for practice. Everything was different now. Before, she had striven to prove herself the fastest, the cleverest, the most ruthless. But after Ivan’s lewd attack and Nicolae’s protective response, she had seen that none of it mattered. She would never be the best Janissary, because she would never be a Janissary. She could never be powerful on her own, because she would always be a woman.
“I am doing you a favor. Be gracious. Theodora, after many years, ended up accepting Christianity and living an honest but simple life of spinning wool near the palace. That is where she met Justinian. Emperor Justinian. Perhaps it was her cleverness that attracted him, her humble roots, her…experience. Regardless, he fell in love with her. He threw out the laws that prevented him from marrying an actress, and she was crowned empress. Not empress consort, mind you. Full empress, full partner with her husband. Imagine.” Huma paused, her gaze going far away and soft. Then, she returned to herself. “She went from entertaining men on stage and behind it, to ruling all of Byzantium. She crushed a rebellion when her husband would have run, she improved laws for all women under her rule, and she helped build the most beautiful cathedral in all the world—the Sancta Sophia. It stands in Constantinople to this day as a testament to what Theodora and her husband accomplished together.” Huma leaned forward. “She never picked up a sword, but thirty thousand traitors died under her command. She was a prostitute, bowing to any man with enough coin, then a woman who never again bowed to anyone. And do you think she did that wearing trousers?”
“She still needed a man,” Lada said, her eyes slits.
Huma showed her teeth in a predatory approximation of a smile. “You understand the story perfectly.” She coughed, a dry, rattling sound, and it was a while before she could speak again.
“Can I get you anything?” Radu asked.
She waved him away. “I understand your position, better than you know,” she said to Lada. “But you are holding Mehmed back. Make a decision, Lada. If you do not wish to marry my son, release him.”
Lada stood straight, sputtering. “I have no hold on Mehmed!”
Radu, too, could not believe what he was hearing. “There has never been talk of marriage, to anyone!” He looked to Lada for confirmation. It was the three of them—together—and had always been. There was no love between Lada and Mehmed that Radu and Mehmed did not also share. No, he would have seen it. And Radu and Mehmed shared the bond of a brotherhood of faith, which surely drew them closer than any bond Mehmed shared with Lada.
Huma shook her head. “Mehmed wanted to return to Amasya immediately. I persuaded him to stay in Edirne to create connections, build a foundation of strength. Little has changed since he left. I have nothing, not the esteem of my husband”—she spat the word like a fig gone rotten—“and not the promise of a son who will ever be able to keep the throne I have secured for him. He should be capitalizing on his success against Hunyadi, not yearning to return to this forsaken place. But he has been so content with his dear, faithful friends here that he has not been paying attention to the things that matter. So I tell you again: let him be free of your hold.”
A chill flowed from Lada’s mouth, her cold fury palpable. “You will have to excuse my confusion. Freedom is not something with which I am well acquainted.”
“This is foolish.” Radu held out his hands and tried to sound lighthearted. “Mehmed has spent all this time studying, preparing to rule. And we would never hold him back from that. You know that we would do—have done—anything to protect Mehmed.”
“Oh yes, I know. But he does not know, does he? And if I ever suspect you two are getting in my way, I will not hesitate to remove you.”
Radu’s blood went cold. Huma could have them killed, doubtless. But worse, still: she could tell Mehmed the truth of how he had lost the throne. They would lose him forever. Radu could not imagine a life without him.
No, that was not the problem. The problem was that he could perfectly imagine a life without Mehmed. He had lived it all the years of his childhood, and he never wished to go back to that cold and lonely state, even if Lada was forced along with him.
Huma stood, letting her embroidery drop to the ground. “I have other business to attend to. Do not forget what we have spoken of.” As she left, she stepped on the cloth as though the hundreds of hours of work that had gone into the stitches were nothing.
T WO WEEKS AFTER HUMA’S painful visit and quick return to the capital, a full month after the Janissaries returned but Mehmed did not, Lada once again made excuses for why she could not join Nicolae’s contingent for practice. Everything was different now. Before, she had striven to prove herself the fastest, the cleverest, the most ruthless. But after Ivan’s lewd attack and Nicolae’s protective response, she had seen that none of it mattered. She would never be the best Janissary, because she would never be a Janissary. She could never be powerful on her own, because she would always be a woman.
