A little gasp—not so little, actually—went up from the crowd. Some of that was caused by shock, at seeing a young woman unveiled in public. The Arabs had known it was coming, of course. Eon had made very clear that he was only willing to concede so much to Arab traditions. Ethiopian women did not wear veils, not even young virgins, and the King of Kings had stated in no uncertain terms that his new wife would follow Axumite custom in that regard. Still, the matrons in the square were shocked. Shocked, shocked! They could hardly wait to scurry home and start talking about the scandal of it all.
But most of the gasps came from Rukaiya's sheer beauty. The crowd had been expecting a pretty girl, true. But not—not
Within seconds, the gasps gave way to murmurs. Looks of shock and surprise were replaced by—
"You are a genius yourself, Antonina," whispered Ousanas. "That is what a queen
Garmat's opinion was otherwise. "She's too gorgeous," he complained. "We'll never be able to pry Eon out of bed." With a hiss: "What were you
Antonina ignored the old fart. She simply basked, a bit, in the admiring glances sent her way by the crowd. And she positively wallowed in the penumbra of another's admiration. Even at the distance, she could not misread Eon's face. That young face had been shadowed, ever since he found the mangled bodies of his concubines in the stones of the Ta'akha Maryam. Now, at last, she could see the shadow start to lift.
Like her husband before her, Antonina had come to love Eon as if he were her own son. She realized, now that it was over, that she been guided throughout by a mother's instinct—not the calculations of a diplomat. She trusted that instinct, far more than she trusted the machinations of politics.
Garmat still didn't understand, but Ousanas did. The tall hunter leaned over and whispered: "A genius, I say it again."
Antonina shrugged modestly. "It's a good match. The girl's father, I think, will make an excellent adviser in his own right. And Rukaiya herself is very intelligent. She'll—"
"Not that nonsense," snorted Ousanas.
He sneered at Garmat. Ousanas' sneer was as magnificent as his grin. "Politics is a silly business. Games for boys too old to grow up." The famous grin made its appearance. "Wise folk, like you and me, understand the truth. As long as the boy is happy, he will do well. Everything else is meaningless."
* * *
That evening, at the great feast in the palace, Eon sidled up to her. He began to fumble with words of thanks and appreciation.
Antonina smiled. "She's very beautiful, isn't she?"
Eon nodded happily. "She's smart, too. Did you know she can actually
He was silent, for a few seconds, admiring his wife. Rukaiya was the center of attention for the crowd—and had been, since the feast started. At the moment, she was surrounded by many of the young girls who had spent the days in the harem with her. Antonina, watching the ease with which Rukaiya handled that little mob of admirers—who had, not so long ago, been her rivals—congratulated herself once again.
The final reward came. Eon took her hand and gave it a little squeeze.
"Thank you," he whispered. "You have been like a mother for me."
* * *
Toward the end of the feast, Rukaiya sought her out. The young queen drew Antonina aside, into a corner of the great chamber. She clutched Antonina's hands in her own.
"I'm so nervous," she whispered. "Eon and I will be leaving, very soon. For his private chamber. I am so nervous. So scared."
Antonina smiled reassuringly, almost placidly. The expression was hard to maintain. She was waging a ferocious battle—not against giggles, but uproarious laughter.
But a mother's instinct came to the rescue, again.
"Relax, Rukaiya. Forget what you might have heard. Most men, believe it or not, don't mount their wives like a bull mounting a heifer. They actually talk, first."
Rukaiya's eyes were boring into her own, like a disciple staring at a prophet.
Hell with it. Antonina did laugh.
