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Eozena was used to delivering bad news.
It was one of the many skills of a kahya. Specifically, delivering bad news to very important people.
As she left the Gold Court, having spent hours debriefing about this afternoon’s disaster, she steeled herself to deliver more. The sultan’s decision to spare Tadek’s life—influenced by her brother—was merciful, but Eozena wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. If she had made such a mistake, she wouldn’t have been able to keep going. Exile or death would have been preferable. Tadek, though, was younger, and much less sensible.
The courtyard was quiet as she left and made her way towards the kahyalar’s quarters. Too quiet. She didn’t like this, too used to the buzz of activity that was usually happening in the royal residence.
Her mind was still whirring. She had work to do. Reams of paperwork to fill out. She would have to address the kahyalar as a whole, but later. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she arrived at the kahyalar’s quarters before she had realized it, walking through the palace as if on autopilot. She shook her head. That wouldn’t do. She needed to be alert.
She turned towards her office. “Send Tadek to me,” she told the kahyalar lingering outside. She entered her familiar office, taking a deep breath. It was sparsely furnished. Her desk, completely neat and tidy. A portrait of the sultan’s family. A shelf arranged with pertinent books—she had started building up a collection since the arrival of the printing press.
Eozena collapsed into her chair. She had only a moment before there was a knock at the door. “Come in.”
Tadek entered. Eozena was worried about him, but he did not appear to be upset. This was more concerning. He greeted her with his signature cocky grin, and she frowned in return. “Sit down,” she commanded, gesturing at the chair opposite her.
“Well?” he said, sitting down and sprawling out, leaning back in the chair. “How long until the gallows?”
Eozena fixed him with a forbidding look. “Please, show some respect. This isn’t over,” she said.
Tadek straightened up a little, chastened, but still red faced and glossy-eyed. She could smell alcohol on him now.
“I’ll get right to the point,” she said. “The sultan has decided you may live. You will be stripped of your rank, and continue to serve Lord Kadou, however he sees fit.”
Tadek’s mouth dropped open in an unbecoming expression. She could tell this had truly shocked him; he had made peace with his death, but not with the possibility of continuing to live.
“I expect you to be grateful,” Eozena stated, when he didn’t respond. That was also unusual. She had never known Tadek to be without words. She sighed, deciding to go easy on him. “Go find the cadet master. They’ll help you get settled for tonight. Rest, and we’ll figure everything else out tomorrow.”
“Yes, Commander.” Tadek gave her a sloppy salute. Then, he stood and walked wobbly towards the door. He hesitated, glanced back at her as if he might say something else, then shook his head and left.
She put her head in her hands, rubbing her temples.
She thought back to months ago, when rumors of Tadek and Kadou’s…relationship had reached her. It didn’t take long, with how the kahyalar gossiped. She hadn’t been disapproving, it wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had happened. Still she had called Tadek into her office then too to give him the typical reminders.
“Just continue to do your job,” she had told him. “Don’t let your heart get the best of you.”
Then he’d gone and done this. Eozena wished he had taken her advice.
And yet, hadn’t she done the same thing? Allowed herself to love the sultan and the prince. If Kadou had died today…she refused to even think about it.
She still had work yet to do. She opened her desk drawer and took out the most recent file of exam results. Zeliha had requested she choose a new kahya for the core guard, and Eozena thought it best that it be someone new, who wasn’t involved at all in this debacle. One exam stood out clearly above the rest.
She went back to the Gold Court and to Zeliha’s room's. The sultan had just finished feeding the princess, and was reclining on a couch, rocking the baby to sleep.
“At least the baby is relaxed,” Zeliha said, setting Eyne in her cradle. She looked tired. Maybe only Eozena would know how to notice it, but she could read the exhaustion in the sultan’s eyes, the slump of her shoulders.
“I chose someone for Kadou's replacement core guard,” Eozena said, deciding to cut straight to the chase. “Evemer Hoşkadem. He’ll do well.”
Zeliha nodded. “I trust you.” She stood, stretching. “I’ve sent my kahya out already. Could you help with my hair?”
“Of course, Highness.” It had been a long time since she had completed the task, but she remembered it well enough. She followed Zeliha into her bedroom, where she sat in front of her vanity. Eozena got to work, taking down the sultan’s braids. They were silent, but it was comfortable, a familiarity bred from years of knowing each other. Zeliha used to squirm and cry as Eozena did her hair, when the sultan was a child and the commander just a kahya. Now, she was still and quiet, only yawning once.
For some reason, she thought back to the day Kadou and Zeliha’s parents had drowned in the terrible boating accident. Zeliha had been the one to tell them; Kadou had cried, but Zeliha had been stone faced, her little fists curled the only hint she was upset. She couldn’t remember Zeliha ever crying.
After finishing with her hair, Eozena helped the sultan into her sleeping kaftan. Seeing the sultan comfortably situated in bed, she bowed and left Zeliha to her rest.
Eozena finally returned to her own room. She was pensive as she went through her nighttime routine. Several sword variations, stretching, and then reading a book for an hour before she bathed and changed into her night clothes. She had no need to undo her own hair, the braids served to keep it neat under any circumstance. It had been a taxing day, but she didn’t see why she should deviate from her routine. Still, she was pensive as she got in bed. Her mind wavered between the memory of Kadou on the ground and Tadek’s blank face. Was she allowing herself to worry too much? She had to harden her heart to pity, as she had advised Take. And even if she cared deeply for Kadou and Zeliha, she wasn’t their parent. She was a kahya, and that was something more. With that thought in her head, she finally drifted off to sleep.