Page 16 of Bright We Burn

“Good. We all know what our duties are, then.”

Stephen grinned rakishly, holding his goblet out to Lada in a toast. “Disrupt stability. Petition for gold. Provoke the greatest empire on the face of the earth.” He paused. “This is going to be fun.”

Constantinople

OVER THE NEXT TWO weeks, Radu kept to the palace—the least haunted part of the city for him. He spent his time writing letters and consulting with Mara on where they could look for Nazira. Mara’s smiling patience nagged at him; the calm and soothing way she spoke terrified him that there was, in fact, no hope.

He would not give up hope. Not for Nazira. Not ever.

Radu was invited to sit in on all the meetings that involved Europe. He wondered if it was to give some legitimacy to his place in Mehmed’s court, though he felt useless. Unlike Mara, he had not kept up any of his ties with his home country aside from Aron and Andrei Danesti, whom he met with occasionally. Theirs was a relationship destined for discomfort. His sister had murdered their father; their father had murdered Radu’s father. And now his sister sat on the throne they had equal claim to. He avoided them, and everyone else, as much as was polite.

The only peace Radu found was in prayer, but even his studies of Islam could not distract his itching, straining heart. Every time Radu thought he had found a place in the world, the world changed around him, and he was once again left alone.

Today, Mehmed was at the head of the room on an elevated platform. Along with several other of Mehmed’s advisors, Radu sat nearest to him. But no one was allowed on the platform. Not even Radu, despite how close they were behind closed doors. Some things never changed.

He rubbed his eyes wearily. He did not know how much longer he could stand playacting. It had kept him alive through his cruel childhood, navigating the Sultan Murad’s capricious court, and behind the walls of Constantinople during the siege. But when Nazira and Cyprian left, he had lost the one person who truly knew him. And he had lost the other person whom he would have liked to let try.

He tried to pay attention to the council going on around him, but he had a hard time focusing. Mara was detailing some nuance of diplomacy to give Mehmed more trading advantages with the Venetians. It felt deeply unimportant.

“What about Nazira?” Radu asked when there was a lull in the discussion.

“What about her?” Mehmed asked.

“Has there been any word? Can we send out more men to search? We know they left the city in a boat. Perhaps if we looked up and down the coastline…”

Mehmed shook his head. “It would be a waste of resources. She left with a nephew of the emperor. He knows what value Nazira has. If we go searching, they will only see our desperation and increase the eventual ransom demand. Our best course of action is to wait and see what they ask for.” He noticed Radu’s horrified expression and held up his hands in placation. “We will pay it, of course! Whatever they ask. But we have to be smart about how we portray her value.”

“Cyprian would never do that.”

Mehmed’s face was carefully neutral. “Cyprian. Ah yes. I had forgotten his name.”

Radu did not believe him. And he could not accept that this was Mehmed’s solution. To simply wait and see what happened. Radu had been waiting for months. “If we have had no word of Nazira, they must have run into trouble. If you would give me the men, I can—”

The door burst open, and Kumal Pasha, Radu’s beloved brother-in-law, hurried in. Radu wondered if he had somehow been drawn by discussion of his sister. Radu stood, grateful. Kumal would support his petition for more resources.

Kumal bowed. “I apologize for interrupting, but we have just received word from Bulgaria.” He held out a sheaf of paper. A servant took it, then shuffled toward Mehmed, bowing and holding it out. Radu itched to keep pressing about Nazira, but Kumal was here on other business. Radu would speak with Mehmed later. And he would bring it up again when next they were alone. Mehmed had been so evasive about expanding the search that Radu wondered now if it was because of Cyprian. Could he be jealous?

Mehmed looked over the papers, his normally composed expression shifting as his eyes widened the more he read. When he looked up, it was directly at Radu.

“Lada. She has attacked Bulgaria and killed tens of thousands.”

Radu’s heart raced as though he were the one attacked. “Why?” She had murdered the envoy, and before they had even sent a response she had done this?

Mehmed stood. “Kumal Pasha, Mara Brankovic, Radu Bey, stay. Everyone else, get out.”

There was a rush and flutter of robes, and soon the four of them were alone, save Mehmed’s guards. “Come.” He retreated into his private room.

Radu followed, the space feeling oddly larger with more people in it. Perhaps because Mehmed alone was so much more overwhelming than Mehmed with other people present. Radu leaned against a wall as Mehmed paced. Kumal and Mara both sat on a long, low bench.

“You cannot let this stand,” Mara said, breaking the silence.

Mehmed looked as though he wanted to throw something. But everything in the room was expensive, exquisite, his own property. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I do not understand this. I gave her the throne.”

Radu shifted uncomfortably. “But you did not. Not really. You never sent her men or aid. She took it on her own. You can see how she feels that she is not a vassal.”

“Wallachia is a vassal state! She knows this.”

“You did not respond to her murder of the envoy, either.”