The ambassadors from Constantinople arrived the next day. Radu no longer stood next to Mehmed in the receiving hall, but near the back and off to the side.
Normally, Radu would have liked to see the ambassadors squirming. Mehmed was still acting the silly, spoiled sultan. But it was all so tiresome. He was ready for this interminable waiting period to be over. Constantinople needed to fall. When they marched, then everything would be better. Everything would be revealed. Radu would reclaim his place next to Mehmed. They would take the walls together.
And Lada would be nowhere near, either physically or in Mehmed’s thoughts. When Constantinople fell, Mehmed would have what he wanted most. He would forget the girl who had left them behind. He would know who had been with him, helping him every step of the way.
He would finally see Radu’s whole worth.
Radu refocused on what was being said. Though the ambassadors kept trying to steer the conversation back to the fortress Mehmed had built on their side of the strait, Mehmed could not be trapped.
“We should have a feast! A party.” He smiled distractedly, leaning over to whisper to a man taking notes, “Fish. No, lamb. No, fish. Both!”
The lead ambassador cleared his throat. “But we must discuss the matter of the land. You killed citizens from a nearby village.”
Mehmed waved dismissively. “Our men defended themselves against attack. It is nothing. Tell me, do you like dancing? What style of dance do they favor in Constantinople now?”
The lead ambassador, who wore a blue coat that was open to reveal a bright red vest, shifted from foot to foot. “At the very least, we must demand payment for the land you took.” The other five ambassadors remained perfectly still.
Mehmed’s smile chilled even Radu. “Yes. Payment. We would say a great deal is owed Constantinople. Very soon every debt will be erased.”
A silence as thick as blood had descended on the room.
Mehmed laughed, suddenly the bright, happy young sultan again. He clapped his hands. “A party! Tonight. You can show us how they dance in Constantinople. We will make you all dance.”
Mehmed leaned toward Kumal, engaging him in con versation and effectively ignoring the ambassadors. They stayed where they were, shuffling their feet or clearing their throats. Mehmed had not dismissed them, so they could not leave. Radu could not see their faces from where he stood, but he did not imagine they looked happy.
Then one, the nearest to him, turned. It was the ambassador with the gray eyes who had delivered a gift—a book—to Mehmed upon his coronation. Radu was surprised at how easily he recognized the young man after more than a year. And it appeared the ambassador recognized him as well. His eyebrows lifted in shock, and then he smiled grimly, shrugging his shoulders toward the throne.
Radu answered with a similar smile.
To Radu’s surprise, the ambassador took it as an invitation. He left his companions and made his way to Radu’s side.
“You stood next to the sultan before,” the ambassador said without preamble.
“Things change.”
“They do. I am Cyprian.”
“Radu.”
Cyprian clasped Radu’s hand, holding on for a few seconds more than seemed necessary. Radu was always deeply aware of touching, nervous to do anything out of the ordinary. As though someone might figure out he was not normal by the way he lingered in a hug, or drew too close while standing. Cyprian did not seem to have this same worry. He leaned in close, his unusual eyes pierc ing Radu. They were the color of the sea on a stormy day, and had a similar effect on Radu as that of stepping onto a boat. The floor swam beneath him for a moment, until Cyprian looked away.
“Tell me, is there somewhere we could get a meal outside the palace?” the ambassador asked. “It is far colder here than I remembered.”
It was, in fact, quite warm in the room in spite of the season. But Radu did not think Cyprian referred to the temperature.
“I am sorry.” Radu found to his surprise that he actually was. “We have a party to prepare for.”
“I will find you there, then.” Bowing his head, Cyprian smiled, his eyes crinkling until they nearly disappeared. Radu thought Mehmed’s smile the best in the world, but he could not deny that something about Cyprian’s transformed his whole face in a way that made Radu feel some hope for the first time in days.
As Radu was changing for the party, a knock came at his door.
Opening it, he was shocked to find Mehmed standing there. Exactly as he had hoped and dreamed. “Mehm— My sultan?” Radu bowed low.
“Stay here,” Mehmed said to the Janissary guards who always accompanied him. He brushed past Radu and waited for him to close the door.
Radu’s heart raced, so loudly that he again wondered if Mehmed could hear it. “What is it?”
Mehmed paced the small length of Radu’s receiving room. His hands were clasped behind his back, his brows drawn tight. “I have an idea.”
“Oh?” Radu watched him. His presence filled the room. Mehmed did not talk further. Radu needed him to talk, needed to keep him here. “I have good news! Urbana said we can test the Basilica tomorrow. I wonder if we should make a demonstration of it. We could even invite the ambassadors. Let them run back with tales of your astonishing artillery.”
Mehmed’s gaze was on the floor, and though he nodded, he did not seem to have really heard Radu. “I sent forces into the Peloponnese today. They will keep the emperor’s brothers from going to his aid in Constantinople. As soon as our troops set up a line there, we have effectively declared war. But I think I will do it sooner.”
Radu wished there was enough room to pace by Mehmed’s side. He would burst if he had to remain by the door. “The cannon demonstration would be the perfect moment!” He could see it playing out. Everyone lining up, watching. The shock and awe of the court. The fear of the ambassadors. Mehmed looking at him with secret, joyful pride. And it was all Radu’s doing. Without him, no one would have helped Urbana. The cannon was his project alone. Radu’s triumph would be used to declare war, and they could finally end this pretense at distance.
Mehmed stopped. He narrowed his eyes at Radu, ex pression unreadable. “I saw that ambassador seeking you out.”
“I— What?”
“The young one. He sought you out the first moment he could. Why?”
Radu scrambled to adjust the trajectory of his thoughts. “I do not know, actually. He wanted to take a meal together.”
“Was that all he said?”
“He remarked on the difference in my post from last time, when I stood at your side.”
Mehmed smiled. It had none of the warmth of Cyprian’s smile. “That was what I had hoped. Radu, I need you to do something. Something I can trust no one else to do. Something only you can do for me. For the empire. For the cause of our God.”
Radu’s heart beat even faster. Something only he could do for Mehmed. “Yes. Anything. You know I would do anything.”
“At the party, seek out the ambassador. Tell him you want to leave me. Tell him you want to aid Constantine with your knowledge of my plans. Tell him you wish to be a traitor.”
Radu could not process what was being asked. “But … then I will be in the city. How will I get back in time to join you?”
“You will be more valuable to me behind the walls than any man on my side of them.”
Radu could not pick which path of thought to follow. Happiness that he would be the most valuable man in the world to Mehmed? Fear of what he was being asked to do? Or disappointment that after all his planning and work, he would not stand with Mehmed at the wall?