Chapter 11: The Vents

"On whose word?" said Laleh.

"The council's, my lady."

"My brother is the council."

"His Majesty agreed," Sadeq said gently. "After I told him what was found in her kit."

He bowed to the court ladies and went out.

The guards stayed.

That night two of them stood outside the Sultan's door with spears.

I watched them from the bottom of the stairs, in my veil, with my kit under my arm.

One of them shook his head at me without a word.

Laleh came to my room at midnight with a candle and a face.

"The physician filled the lamp himself," she said. "From his jar. With four guards watching, and Sadeq at the door."

"Did Tamir drink anything?"

"Wine. The physician's sleeping draught."

"Did he sleep?"

"An hour. Then he woke up clawing at his chest. I heard it through the wall."

I sat on the cot with my hands between my knees.

"He fought it in council," Laleh said. "He did. But Sadeq stood there with the petals in a dish."

"Half the council were at the feast. They saw a bride fall down."

"They're not going to see a Sultan fall down," I said. "Not if I can help it."

The second night was worse.

The third night, the chamberlain ran down to the stables at dawn and didn't cry. He just stood there.

Laleh came to me white.

"He fell in the Hall," she said. "This morning. In front of everyone. He got up again, but he fell."

I got up off the cot.

"Where's the old scent cellar?"

Laleh blinked. "Under the north kitchens. It's been locked for forty years. Why?"

"Because every royal room in this palace has a clay pipe running into it from that cellar," I said. "And I'm small."

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