Chapter 15
Nahlah
”Wha... I mean...” My words faltered, his abrupt transformation from guard to noble leaving me speechless. “Will you get into trouble?”
A hint of amusement touched his lips, one side lifting in a half-smile. “No, I’m off duty now.”
“Oh!” I felt flustered, flattered that he’d sought me out. Somehow, I’d forgotten how ruggedly handsome he was. His features were sharp, with a straight nose, full lips, high cheekbones, and striking light blue eyes that captivated with their intensity.
“Will you dance with me?” he asked again, my senses snapping back to the present as I realized I hadn’t responded to his request.
“I’d love to,” I accepted, my cheeks burning as he pulled me into an embrace. With my back pressed against his chest, he clasped my left hand in his, his right hand settling reassuringly on my right hip as he rested his chin against my head.
As the first strains of the bendir rang out, he guided me into the first steps.“You’ve left the library unguarded?” I teased. “That’s novel behavior for a diligent guard like you.”
His deep laugh reverberated through my entire body. “They can manage without me for a chapter or two.”
I laughed appreciatively as he spun me around, his hands finding my waist again, pulling me back to him with practiced ease. “I didn’t know guards were required to dance.”
“It’s one of our lesser-known talents,” he quipped, a smile in his voice. “It’s a hidden perk of the position.”
As the music swelled, I turned to face him, looping my hands around his neck. His light gaze met mine, his eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky—so beautiful and enchanting. “Your eyes put the stars to shame,” I blurted out without thinking, feeling the heat rise immediately to my cheeks at the unintended confession.
He smiled, his gaze unwavering as he responded, “Only because they’re reflecting your beauty.”
Ya salaam!I thought, my face flushing deeper with pleasure. Who was this? He’d come a long way from the man in the library, who was too flustered to say his own name. “You flatter me,” I responded, a smile playing on my lips. “A guardian of books, a dancer, and now a poet?”
“There are many things you don’t know about me.” His hands were firm on my hips as the music slowed, our steps drawing out languidly.
“Is that so?”
“Mhmm. I’m simply a man of many talents,” he said, his voice both husky and provocative.
“Careful,” I murmured. “Or you’ll reveal all your secrets in one dance.”
“Hmm.” His voice dropped. “If I do, does that mean we must dance forever?”
Before I could think of a response, the music surged to a crescendo. He twirled me once, twice, and as the final drumbeat faded, he pulled me close against his chest. As I rested my head upon his shoulder in a way that felt like surrender, the entire universe faded as I fell into his gaze.
He’d asked me to dance with him, and this was no ordinary dance. It was a moment of connection, unexpected and electrifying.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Rami?” I whispered.
“Only for those who pay attention,” he murmured. The brush of his lips against my ear sent a shiver through me despite the warmth of the room. “Will you come with me?”
“Where?” I asked breathlessly, my heart thrumming rapidly in my chest.
“Let’s just leave,” he said, a hint of urgency beneath his calm exterior.
Hesitation flickered within me, a moment of indecision, before realizing that our mission was complete. We’d secured the watch, and it was on its way to the Mirage with Tareq. “Yes,” I agreed, a sense of finality in my tone. “I will.”
“A wise decision, Nahlah.” As he murmured my name, my body tensed, my breaths coming in sharp, labored gasps. A suffocating ice seized my veins, and I stood frozen, a flurry of thoughts storming my mind—how did he know? “Do nothing reckless,” he warned, still holding me against him tenderly.
“Let me go,” I demanded, struggling to keep my voice steady.
“Only if you agree to leave with me.”
”No, I’m not going anywhere with you!” I hissed, pulling my elbow back hard into his chest. He didn”t move an inch, just sighed heavily.
“If you don’t want an entire hall of elite to know that the forty thieves are here, disguised as their peers, you will leave with me. Now.” His words were a threat and promise intertwined.
White-hot anger eclipsed my fear. I spun out of his grasp, my hand flashing to the hidden dagger in my dress. With a swift, fluid motion, I pressed the blade against his abdomen. ”I’m not going anywhere.”
He looked at me with something akin to disappointment. “You should know,” he began, casually grasping the blade. To my astonishment, the metal twisted and morphed before my eyes. ”Fae are not so easy to kill.”
The realm spun. Fae. It all made sense—the honor of carrying the front of Princess Yasmeena”s amaria. His sudden appearance wearing full finery. His transformation from a flustered guard to this enigmatic figure.
“You’re the fae captain,” I stated, my voice ringing with certainty.
”My reputation precedes me, it seems,” he said, narrowing his eyes. ”Now, since we both know each other’s identities, let’s move out of the dancers’ way and head outside, shall we? Unless, of course, you’d prefer your accomplices to be implicated as well.”
“If you harm them,” I whispered, rage blazing within me, fiery and all-consuming. “You”ll regret ever meeting me.”
“Hm,” he considered, tilting his head. “Ensuring their protection should make you more cooperative.”
“Lead the way, Captain.” I spat out his title like a curse, infusing it with all the scorn I could muster.
He offered his arm, but I stared up at him with loathing, not moving until he sighed again. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
With an angry snarl, I grabbed his arm, my nails digging into his skin with calculated malice. “Good. Now, smile,” he instructed, a lazy grin on his face. “We don’t want to alarm anyone.”
I contorted my features into a semblance of pleasantness, frantically searching the crowd for Ala. When I spotted his distinctive towering frame, hope blossomed within me for a moment. But as he turned, I caught a flash of gold and long black hair, my heart sinking as I realized he was dancing with Princess Yasmeena, entirely distracted.
As Rami steered me toward the exit, I suddenly remembered the sentinel band, almost bursting into relieved tears. With a subtle shift, I hooked my fingers around it, projecting a single, desperate command: Run.
Our steps reverberated through the dungeon’s gloomy corridors, the flickering torchlights casting long, eerie shadows against the damp stone walls. I’d lost count of the staircases we’d descended and the turns we’d taken before reaching a heavy door guarded by three burly guards.
Echoes of distant voices and muted cries of other prisoners mingled with the dank air, sending shivers down my spine. What plans did Rami have for me? Did he know the identities of all the members undercover at the palace? I stole a glance at him, but his face was an impassive mask, the charm and warmth stripped away.
He halted abruptly in front of a cell, and with neither key nor words, it unlocked with an audible click. “You are entitled to know the charges brought against you, as decreed by the Sultan’s Law,” he declared. “Theft, impersonating a royal, infiltrating the palace, aiding in the infiltration of the other forty thieves, and breaking into the Sultan’s private chambers.” Each charge struck like a whip, leaving invisible welts upon my spirit.
”By the decree of the Sultan,” he continued, his voice one of monotonous boredom. ”If you choose to remain silent, it is an admission of guilt. You have the right to a fair trial, but what is fair will ultimately be determined by the Sultan. Anyone seeking mercy must make their plea solely to his benevolence, as only through his grace is leniency granted. The Sultan’s Law recognizes guilt by association, and therefore, your family and friends may be held accountable for your crimes.”
I was speechless, the gravity of my situation pinning me in place just as securely as any shackles. My mind screamed for me to say something, to deny, to plead, to rage—but all I felt was shock and fear.
“Give me your jewelry,” he commanded.
I recoiled in disbelief. “What?”
He sighed, his patience thinning. ”Under Article 12 of the Sultan’s Law, your possessions and assets are subject to seizure as they ultimately belong to his authority.”
Your family and friends may be held accountable for your crimes…
As the words rang in my ears, I ripped the crown from my hair, hoping a stray pin might catch his skin as I thrust it at him. The earrings followed, and then I violently unclasped the body chain, hurling it at him. ”I hope the Sultan enjoys wearing that!”
A hint of amusement flickered across his face, and I spun away, wanting to enter the cell with a shred of dignity.
I paced the length of my prison, a restless pattern of worry, anger, and rage. Rami had left me two hours ago, and the uncertainty of my family’s safety tormented me incessantly, whispering dreadful possibilities with each shadow that danced along the stone walls.
Did they get my warning? Were they safe? Were they being punished because of me? Unable to stop the horrific questions and images from running through my mind, I clasped my hands over my face and slumped back against the wall, sliding down until I collapsed in a heap on the floor.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, sinking deeper into despair. It could’ve been minutes, hours, or even a lifetime. My sanity was quickly unraveling, so when the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor, they seemed like a figment of my imagination.
”It”s positively horrid down here!” Sultan Ghazi cried out in disgust. At the sound of his outraged shriek, I glanced up, my heart thundering in my chest as I slowly got to my feet.
Rami’s response was deliberate and unaffected. ”The purpose of a dungeon is not to provide comfort.”
”But my belgha! They’re ruined!” Sultan Ghazi lamented further. ”I should’ve changed before coming down here to interrogate her!”
I frowned, positioning myself so that I had a clear view of the cell door. Why would the Sultan himself need to interrogate me? Especially with Princess Yasmeena’s celebration still ongoing? It didn’t make sense that he would leave such an important event for a common thief.
”I will personally see to their recovery,” Rami replied, his voice flat and emotionless.
”No,” the Sultan grumbled, sounding remarkably similar to a tantrum-throwing child. ”They are beyond repair!”
As the Sultan’s perfectly pristine shoes came into view, I clenched my fists, a surge of anxiety flooding through me. Rami entered first, avoiding my gaze, followed by Sultan Ghazi, whose extravagant outfit seemed to mock the dreariness of our surroundings.
”Well,” Sultan Ghazi began, his tone a mix of begrudging respect and disdain, ”choosing the Sahrandian royals was quite clever. I haven’t seen them since their youngest was no taller than the banquet tables. Or was it their middle child?” he pondered this for a moment before waving a hand in the air, as if bored by his own musings. ”It doesn”t matter. What does matter is the thief in my home. Who sent you?”
Gathering my courage, I straightened my shoulders, meeting his gaze. ”I came on my own.”
”She’s lying,” Rami interjected. His accusation sent a ripple of disbelief through me. As an elemental fae, he shouldn’t possess that ability—regardless of how powerful he was.
The Sultan’s glare turned venomous. ”I am a benevolent ruler, so I will overlook your deception once. But lie again, and I will have your tongue,” he promised, his tone one of fury. ”Now, which family do you come from?”
”My family is dead.” The truth carried more weight than he could understand, encompassing a family not bound by blood but by shared struggles and love. If I could shield the others by bearing this burden alone, I would, without hesitation.
”Well?” he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
Glancing over, I found Rami”s gaze fixed on me, an undecipherable flicker of emotion in his blue eyes. ”It is neither a truth nor a lie.”
”Interesting,” the Sultan remarked, his tone suggesting anything but interest. ”Who is she protecting?” he aimed his question like a dagger, designed to cut through my defenses. ”Tell me what she is hiding!” he demanded impatiently as Rami hesitated, a visible conflict crossing his features.
Rami”s eyes never strayed from mine. ”The Mirage.”