Rahim smiled. “As do I, Father. I’m afraid today I’m being used as a messenger by the palace steward, the magistrate’s office, and Uncle Fariq.” He waved the sheaf of parchment in the air as proof. “Apparently your signature is required on a number of things that you already discussed with them in previous meetings this week.”
The king eyed the parchment and then struggled to sit up. “I recall the meeting with the steward and the magistrate, but I haven’t spoken to Fariq about anything of importance in quite some time.”
Rahim’s heart raced. “Really? Well, perhaps I misinterpreted his words.”
“Perhaps.” The king frowned as he pushed the blanket to the floor and stood on shaking legs. Rahim quickly wrapped an arm around the king’s frail waist and helped him walk to the massive ebony desk that rested against the far wall. Carvings of falcons and vines decorated the edges, and its surface gleamed with polish.
The king noticed Rahim admiring the desk and said, “It was a gift from Queen Lorelai of Ravenspire two years ago after she assumed the crown. I moved my old desk into your mother’s library. I remember how much you loved to sit at it and pretend to use your little ring to seal letters to her.”
Rahim gave the king the warm, slightly sad smile he’d adopted for any conversation that brought up the late queen and then gently steered the king into the chair. “I’ll have to go see it again for myself one day soon.”
“You’ll need to see her grave as well.” The king’s voice sharpened. “I’m surprised that you didn’t do so immediately.”
Rahim closed his eyes to hide his annoyance and tried to look stricken. “I’m sorry, Father. It’s just that I’ve been gone so long. And now I see her around every corner, and it’s like losing her all over again. I’m not ready to . . . I just need more time.”
The king’s shaking hand patted Rahim’s cheek. “Of course, Son. I should have realized that it would all feel very fresh to you. You haven’t had time to make new memories here. Perhaps you could take Malik for a walk around the grounds as you used to. He never gets enough exercise anymore.”
Rahim would rather drive a sword through his own foot than go anywhere near that vicious leopard, but he simply nodded and then turned to the parchment. Swiftly separating them into three stacks, he pulled the king’s quill and ink pot forward and lit a candle beneath the wax warmer.
“What is this? Magistrate’s?” the king asked as his trembling fingers sent one pile of parchment spilling across the desk.
Rahim gathered up the sheets, careful to keep the four that Fariq had slipped into the pile hidden in the middle. “Yes, these are the orders you discussed with the magistrate two days ago. All they need is a signature and a seal. Would you like me to do the seals for you?”
“That would be helpful,” the king said as he glanced over the parchment before scrawling his shaky signature across the bottom and handing it to Rahim.
“I’ll need your ring, Father.”
The king laughed a little as he slid the royal signet ring off his finger and dropped it in Rahim’s waiting palm. “Soon enough you’ll be the one wearing this.”
Something flashed across the king’s face as he watched Rahim, waiting for a reply, but Rahim was a fast learner. His first suggestion that they schedule a quick coronation had upset the king. He was ready to try a different approach.
“I’ll wear the ring and assume the heavy burden of ruling only when you deem me ready, Father.”
The king beamed with pride. “That’s my boy.”
The older man worked quickly through the magistrate’s stack, but Rahim’s stomach dropped as the king took the time to glance over each page before signing. If he read the orders Fariq had included, he’d launch an investigation into where the sheets had come from and who was out to destroy the most loyal families in the kingdom.
Rahim couldn’t have that.
His mind raced as he glanced around the room, hoping to be struck with inspiration. What he needed was a distraction. Something that could hold the king’s full attention. His gaze landed on the window and the glossy green leaves of the lemon grove that spread across the hill beyond it.
As the king slid another page to Rahim to be sealed with wax, revealing the first of the four orders from Fariq, Rahim said, “Have you been out to the lemon grove lately?”
The king looked at the window. “Not for years. Not since . . . well, you know it was your mother’s favorite place.”
Yes, Fariq had mentioned that to Rahim in his detailed descriptions of palace life while Javan was a boy. Resting his hand on the king’s shoulder, Rahim said, “I haven’t been there either. Would you like to go with me?”
Hope flared in the king’s eyes, and his smile was warm. “I’m not much for walking long distances now, but perhaps just to sit. I’d love to hear about your time at the academy.” He paused, a frown digging into his forehead. “Have we talked about it yet? I sometimes forget things now.”
“The academy?” Rahim asked, holding the king’s gaze. “Just a bit.”
“Did you do it? Did you honor her muqaddas tus’el?”
Rahim froze, working hard to keep his expression neutral. Fariq hadn’t told him a thing about the queen charging Javan with a sacred dying wish. He was going to have to bluff and hope the king bought it. “Yes, Father. You know I did.”
The king’s frown deepened. “I do?”
“We discussed this when I first came home.” Rahim gave the king a gentle smile, tinged with just enough pity to have the older man straightening his back and nodding sharply.
“Of course we did. That would’ve been the first thing you wanted to show me. We can take the sash out to her grave when you’re ready.”
Rahim squeezed the king’s shoulder gently while he frantically inventoried the items taken from Javan’s room at Milisatria. He couldn’t remember a sash, but maybe Fariq would know what the king meant.
“That sounds fine, but let’s take that walk in the lemon grove first. Shall we hurry through these so that we can enjoy the light before it’s time for afternoon meetings?”
The king’s eyes were teary as he turned back to the parchment and quickly signed the rest of the pile. The orders waiting from the castle steward were handled just as promptly, but when the king reached for the last sheet, the one Rahim had filled out himself not an hour ago, the boy said quietly, “That was the one Uncle gave me. I forgot that he wanted it placed in the middle of the pile, but I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”
It was about as unsubtle as Rahim could be, but it worked. The king was already frowning. Already pulling the parchment close to carefully read every word. His lips pressed together in a tight line, and there was cold anger in his eyes when he finished.
“When did Fariq give this to you?” The king’s voice was deadly calm.
“This morning. You seem upset. Have I done something wrong?”
“Did you read this?”
Rahim let a bite of indignation enter his voice. “No. Those weren’t mine to read.”