Horns for the Harem Girl by Lynn Red Read Free Book Online

emphasis, “so I rubbed them.”
    “What else?”
    “Nothing! He was so drunk that after I’d got halfway down his right leg, he was snoring. I just packed up my oils, cleaned him up and came back here to sleep. It was late and I was tired.”
    A brief flash of confusion showed on the old woman’s face. “Are you sure?”
    Helena rolled to her side, facing away from Maret. She did so under the pretense of getting up, but she really did it because she was a terrible liar. “Yes, that’s all,” she said. At least to someone’s face she was bad at lying. Looking away it was as easy as eating. “Have they brought the pastries yet? I could do with some of those tarts.”
    “She talks about breakfast and I’m talking about being thrown out of the harem. God above, what I wouldn’t give to remember what youth feels like for once instead of just having to deal with the results.”
    “I’m right here, you know,” Helena said. “You don’t have to talk over me.”
    “If I was talking to you, I’d be yelling. Be glad I’m taking it elsewhere,” Maret said. “The prince’s man, whatever his name is, he’s—”
    “Crane. Jon, I think. The Englishman?” Helena said.
    “Yes, him. How did you know his name?”
    “He’s given access to the harem, isn’t he? I’ve seen him down here more than others, at least.”
    “Humph,” Maret grunted, half-laughing. “He may be granted access but he only comes here because he’s an English letch, nothing to do with official business. And aside from his lechery, he’s a gossip.”
    Helena went pale. Maret cocked an eyebrow. “So now the girl knows what I’m talking about. Her beautiful olive skin gets all clammy.”
    “But I—”
    “Had no choice,” Maret said, standing up, swishing her silks around about her legs and beginning to pace. “I know you had no choice. And even if you did, come now child, who would blame you? Given the choice between having Arad? Prince Arad? With those beautiful eyes, those majestic horns, I—”
    “Horns?” Helena asked. “He’s a bit grabby, I’ll grant you that, but I didn’t see any horn.”
    “Oh,” Maret caught herself. “Ah, just an expression. Stags, horn, you see what I mean.”
    “I don’t particularly.”
    “Don’t concern yourself with palace secrets.”
    That piqued Helena’s interest. If Maret hadn’t kept on so long with the horn business, she never would have given it a second thought. Still, the older woman was obviously not going to discuss what she’d meant, exactly, so there was no point to continuing to prod.
    “Anyway,” Maret continued, “who could blame you? And regardless of who you canoodled with beforehand, you did go to the king when requested.”
    She took the end of her carefully braided hair and stuck it unceremoniously in her mouth, chewing on the end of it. It wasn’t a particularly dignified way to fidget, but it certainly got the point of her nervousness across with very little confusion. “No, child, no one would blame you. But you’re caught up in something no matter where the blame may lie.”
    Interested in getting to the bottom of what was going on as much as she was in a date tart, Helena decided that maybe it was time to prod a little. “What does Crane have to do with all this? He just gave me the note. As far as I know, he wouldn’t know whether or not I met Arad.”
    At that, Maret scoffed a laugh. “Oh yes, I’m sure many who have received an invitation from the prince denied him. I’m certain that’s an extraordinarily common thing to have happen.”
    “I didn’t mean to act superior,” Helena said. “It’s just... how would he know? The prince said such things that I—”
    “He always does. Oh dear child, he always does. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve personally heard him say to people.”
    Helena considered arguing, but what was the point? She didn’t need to prove that Arad was going to be true to her . That is, if she even believed it