“I have never had one. I was hoping you would know.”
“Then you are even stupider than you look. Radu is the one who makes friends. I am the one who makes people want to whip me.”
“I recall you giving me advice that helped me avoid being whipped. That seems a good foundation for friendship.” He held out a hand.
Lada considered it. What threads would be woven from this arrangement? She had given her heart to a friend once before, and losing Bogdan had nearly broken her. But Mehmed was no nursemaid’s son. “Your father would object to our friendship. He showed us no kindness in Edirne.”
“I do not care what my father thinks. If you have not noticed, no one cares what I do here. Amasya is ignored. As am I. I am free to do as I wish.”
“You are fortunate.”
“But am I fortunate enough to call you friend?”
“Oh, very well.” Some of the tightness left Lada as she at last realized that the punishment she had been waiting for all this time was not coming. They were not free of Murad, but they were far from his eye. For now, that was enough.
“Good. In the spirit of friendship, I must tell you that I am bitterly jealous of the time you spend in the Janissaries’ company. I want you to stop training with them.”
“And, in the spirit of friendship, I must tell you that I do not care in the slightest about your petty jealousies. I am late for my training.” She hooked her foot behind Mehmed’s ankle, then slammed her shoulder into his, tripping him and throwing him to the ground.
He sputtered in outrage. “I am the son of the sultan!”
She pulled the door open, slicing her sword through the air in front of his throat. “No, Mehmed, you are my friend. And I am a terrible friend.”
His laughter made her steps—always purposeful and aggressive—seem almost light.
AUTUMN REFUSED TO COOL down. The stone walls of the fortress trapped the sun’s brutal rays, holding the heat. Radu imagined the shimmering air was an oven; soon he would be cooked alive. Molla Gurani, who always seemed more than human, now neared godlike status: He did not even so much as sweat as he walked back and forth in front of them, reading aloud from a book about the life of the Prophet, peace be upon him.
But it was blasphemous to think of anything as being like god except God himself. Radu closed his eyes and expunged the thought, trying to bring his mind back in line with his tutor, with God, with what he loved learning.
When it was not so damnably hot.
Mehmed fell off his stool, collapsing to the floor. Radu rushed to his side, along with Molla Gurani. “Are you unwell?” their tutor asked, hands against Mehmed’s cheek and forehead.
Mehmed’s eyes fluttered open. “We must continue my studies.”
“No.” Molla Gurani straightened, helping Mehmed to his feet. “You are overcome with the heat. We should guard against further illness. I insist you go to your bed and remain there the rest of the day.”
Mehmed nodded weakly. “Very well.”
“I will call for a guard to help you.”
“No, no. Radu can take me.” Mehmed held out an arm; Radu draped it over his shoulders and put an arm around Mehmed’s waist.
Molla Gurani watched them go, concern pinching the skin around his glasses. When they were in the hallway, Radu turned in the direction of Mehmed’s chambers, two doors down. He walked as slowly as he could, shouldering most of Mehmed’s weight as the other boy leaned against him. When they were nearly to the door, Mehmed looked behind them. And then pulled away from Radu so quickly that Radu stumbled from the absence of his weight.
Mehmed’s eyes turned up in delight. “Run,” he said, sprinting down the hall.
Radu ran after him, finally catching up as Mehmed burst through a side door leading to a balcony that overlooked the wilting garden. “What are you doing?” he demanded, frantically searching Mehmed’s face for signs of madness. “You need to rest!”
Mehmed laughed, shaking his head. “No, I need to get out of this horrible, hot prison.”
Radu gasped. “You lied to Molla Gurani!”
Shame colored Mehmed’s face. “I did. But if I had asked to be excused, he would have been so disappointed in me. I will study all night to make up for it. You can study with me. But right now it is too hot, and my brain is melting, and we have to get out of here.”
He climbed onto the stone railing, then in a breathless leap, threw himself onto a nearby tree. Grinning at Radu, he clambered down.
Radu looked over his shoulder at his responsibilities. He did not want to misbehave, or draw attention, or do anything that would bring punishment down on his head.
But it was simply too hot for worry.