The Dreamblood Duology by N. K. Jemisin

Author:N. K. Jemisin [Jemisin, N. K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Romance / Fantasy, Fiction / Fantasy / Epic, Fiction / Action & Adventure
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2016-12-20T00:00:00+00:00

The morning had grown late by the time Tiaanet rose and donned a robe. Wanahomen, who had slept more peacefully this time, opened his eyes the moment she moved. “Damnation,” he said, and sat up. “I never meant to stay in the city this long.”

She inclined her head. “May I at least prepare you a bath and a meal before you go?”

He smiled, bemused, and nodded. “Women of the Banbarra are nothing like you,” he said. “They act like queens, expecting men to please them—or else they’re like herders eying breeding stock. I had forgotten what Gujaareen women could be like.”

“I’m not like most Gujaareen women, my Prince.”

He looked abashed, ducking his eyes. “Of course, you are a lady of the shunha. Forgive me; I meant no offense.”

That had not at all been what she’d meant, but she nodded nevertheless.

When the bath was drawn, Tiaanet brought him oils and other toiletries and once again apologized for their lack of servants. Wanahomen assured her that the bath alone was more luxury than he usually enjoyed, and proceeded into the bathroom on his own. She liked that he made no assumptions or crude suggestions that she attend him herself. She could not bring herself to like him, however—for in the end he had used her, the same as her father, and it meant little that he was more considerate about it.

And there could be nothing between them regardless, for someday he would know she was his enemy.

When Tiaanet went into the kitchen to prepare Wanahomen’s meal, her father sat at the table, eating fish and crunchy dates. He lifted an eyebrow as she came in.

“I trust the night went well?” He spoke lightly, but Tiaanet was not fooled. There was a shadow of jealousy in his eyes. Even though the plan for Tiaanet to seduce Wanahomen had been his, he had never liked sharing.

“As well as can be expected,” she said. Moving past him to check the stove, she added more wood and began to warm slices of cured meat for Wanahomen’s meal. “He slept poorly. Bad dreams.”

When she turned, her father had grown tense. “Bad dreams.”

“Tantufi is not here,” she reminded him. In the background she could hear sounds of water from the bathing chamber, which meant that Wanahomen would not overhear.

To her surprise, the reassurance did not calm her father. “I’m told,” he said softly, “that four of the guests who attended Khanwer’s funeral are now dead. The zhinha Zanem and her soldier husband; your mother’s cousin Lord Tun; and a merchant, Bahenamin.”

Tiaanet said nothing to this, frowning as she remembered the people he’d named. Tun had been elderly and married but not above a leering glance at Tiaanet. Zanem and her husband had been cool in their politeness, but that was to be expected from zhinha. Bahenamin, though…

“The last one, the merchant, died in the Hetawa itself,” Sanfi said, “trying to rid himself of a bad dream. The Hetawa boy who tried to take it from him died as well.

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