Page 113 of The King's Menagerie
"They did!" the man said with shocking eagerness. "Two daughters, supposedly, who were adopted by another family. A son, fully grown, who was taken into the king's harem. The first concubine he's ever taken, though there are rumors spinning now that he took the Jackal himself as concubine."
Ender blinked. "The Jackal?"
"Oh, right, you're from out of town. He was a famous fighter; nobody could defeat him. Then he just vanished—some say he fell into drugs or too much wine, turned to criminal activity to pay for his habits. Now he's a royal concubine." He shrugged. "Some people have all the luck, eh?"
"I'm not sure anyone would describe becoming addicted to wine or drugs as lucky, but I take your meaning. My summons isn't nearly so glamorous, I'm afraid."
"Well, that's all right. Maybe a long-lost relative has left you a fortune, eh?"
Ender laughed. "Maybe. If that proves to be the case, I will return and spend a great deal of it."
"Good, good!" the man said cheerfully. "You do that, and I will make it worth every coin! Ha ha!" He stood up and bustled to the door, pulling back the curtain over the top half. "Looks like the storm has died down, my little friend."
"I should be on my way, then," Ender said with a sigh. "Thank you for the fine repast, good sir, and the divine bless your days."
"Good lad, good lad," the man said, patting his back. "Such nice manners. These city kids don't have them anymore, no discipline these days. You be careful out there."
"I will, thank you," Ender said, and finally escaped.
Straightening his clothes and resettling his bag, all that he'd had to bring with him beyond the food his mother had made for him, he pushed on through the city, eyes on the palace in the distance, sprawling across the top of a hill like a crown.
All his fear and worry came rushing back, urging him to run away, run away. But the only way to get answers was to keep going forward.
So forward he went, climbing the enormous, beautiful steps that led up the palace itself, with special ramps alongside for those who could not use steps.
At the top of the steps was a beautiful pavilion, enfolded on three sides by parts of the castle and enormous columns lining the open space facing the city. There was an enormous fountain in the center, water spilling from the various vessels held by dancing men and women. So much water, and all for decoration. His mother would shriek at such showy wastefulness.
Heart pounding in his ears, stomach tied into a thousand knots, Ender pulled out his letter and approached the scary-looking guards that stood on either side of the immense doors into the palace. "H-hello," he said slowly, holding the letter out. "I received this summons."
"Remove your head and face garments," the guards said tersely as he took the letter.
"Oh, of course, my apologies." Ender fumbled hastily to obey, unwinding the long strip of cloth that protected him from sun and dust.
"This looks to be in—" the guard stopped as he looked up, mouth dropping, the letter slipping from his fingers.
"Knock it off!" the guard next to him hissed, giving him a hard kick to the shin before stooping to retrieve the letter himself. He returned it to Ender and said, "Restore your wrappings. Follow me. Speak to no one. Understand?"
"Y-yes, sir," Ender said, covering his head again with trembling hands as he followed the guard into the palace.
Inside was refreshingly cool, and dark at first as his eyes adjusted. Once he could see properly, all he could do was quietly gawk at the beauty of it all. The mosaics. The treasures placed as decoration. The rows upon rows of guards lining the walls. All the hopelessly beautiful people in their ornate clothes dyed more colors than Ender had ever seen.
A sound caught his ear, the most beautiful laugh he'd ever heard, more musical than a single laugh had any right to be. Ender glanced around frantically for the source, breath hitching as it drew closer, and finally came around the corner.
His chest seized as he stared into his own face.
Leaner, sharper, paler… but most definitely his own face.
That. That couldn't be. How could someone lookexactlylike him?
The man with the beautiful laugh stopped, stared. The guards tried to haul Ender away, but he jerked away from them and rushed up to the stranger who wasn't a stranger, tearing away his face coverings. "Who are you?" he demanded.
Eyes widening, skin leeching of color, the man stared. "You can't— This isn't—" He covered his mouth with both hands. Around them the hall had gone deadly quiet.
This time, when the guards grabbed him up, Ender didn't resist, too numb, too bewildered.
They came to a stop in a small room beautifully appointed in greens and pinks, the back open to gardens that smelled of blooming flowers and fresh water he could just barely hear trickling. He dared a look at his… twin? No, that was too much right now. Shying away from the word and all that it implied, Ender focused on the other person involved in this mess.
His heart dropped into his stomach as he registered what he hadn't before: the man was bare-chested. Dressed in black.Costly jewels. He was a royal concubine. This one didn't look like a fighter, though, so he must be the son of the corrupt judge. Well, assuming the café proprietor's gossip had any truth to it.
