Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
KAMARAN
“We’re so sorry to hear about what happened, Your Majesty.
Please let me know if you need anything while you’re recovering.
” Lady Yasmin wore what Kamaran guessed was supposed to be a sympathetic expression, but given the way she was also trying to bat her eyelashes seductively, just ended up making her look as if she were downwind of an elephant barn during a dust storm. “You know I can be excellent company.”
He shifted, trying to put as much space between her and him as he could while still being confined to his bed. Pain flared hot in his side at the movement, and he attempted to cover the grimace with a smile. “Thank you for the kind offer, Lady Yasmin.”
After two days lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and bored out of his mind, Kamaran had eagerly agreed when Zamar mentioned the word “visitors.” His hopes had been dashed, however, when three of the remaining contestants filed into the room, one after another, but Rana was nowhere to be seen.
Zamar already told me that it was Laila who was sent home after the last challenge, which means Rana hasn’t been eliminated yet. Is she still that upset with me that she won’t come?
Nour crossed the room to leave a vase of bright pink blossoms on the small table in the corner. “We thought you might welcome something live to brighten up the place,” she said in her kind, practical tone.
“I remembered how much you used to love taking a stroll in the gardens with me,” Yasmin added. “We had so many good times there.” She dropped her chin, looking up at him through her lashes as she touched a finger to her lips.
Kamaran caught the eye roll that Aliyah and Nour shared, and he wished he could join them. “Thank you for the flowers,” he said politely, directing his thanks to them and doing his best to avoid eye contact with Yasmin.
Aliyah smiled gently. “You’re welcome, Your Majesty. I hope we’ll see you on your feet soon. Zamar says there was no lasting damage?”
“You wouldn’t think that, with the way they have me trapped in here,” Kamaran grumbled, softening the words with a rueful smile. “But the surgeon assures me I’ll be up and walking by the end of the week, and I have no reason not to believe him. Thankfully, the knife missed any vital organs.”
Aliyah’s expression had turned serious as he spoke. “How lucky you are that it wasn’t worse. Have you caught the attacker?”
“I have done nothing but lie in this bed for two days.” He tried to lighten the moment, noticing that Yasmin’s face had started to turn a sickly shade of green.
“The young man was apprehended, though I’m still not convinced it was a calculated attack.
It seems, from all we’ve been able to get out of him, a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He’s a thief, but I don’t think he’s an assassin. ”
Nour interrupted, threading an arm through Aliyah’s as she spoke, “I’m thankful to hear that the prognosis is good, Your Majesty. We’ll get out of your hair now and let you rest.”
The two women returned to the door while Yasmin hesitated. Her voice dropped to a low whisper, “Remember, Kamaran, I’ll be here for anything—”
“Pardon me, Lady Yasmin, but I’m afraid I must steal His Majesty’s attention.”
Kamaran had never been more thankful to see Zamar’s bearded face as his chief vizier swept into the room.
Jasper followed close behind, taking up his routine position just inside the door.
Spot padded into the room like he owned the place and sat beside his master, looking regal and imposing with his tail curled around his paws.
Yasmin’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “You work him too hard, Zamar. How is Kamaran supposed to recover?”
Zamar’s answering smile was brittle and full of warning. “His Majesty is more than capable of speaking for himself, Lady Yasmin. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He gestured toward the door with both hands, inviting her to exit.
She left without further argument, though Kamaran held his breath until she was fully out of the room and Jasper shut the door after her. He exhaled heavily in relief. “You have impeccable timing.” He ran a hand down the side of his face. “How is she still here?”
“As I said before, Your Majesty, she knows how to play the game.” Zamar pulled a tall-backed chair over and sat beside the bed.
Kamaran frowned. “Wasn’t the last challenge supposed to be testing how well they could relate to and understand the general public? There’s no way she could have performed well; the last time I saw her, she was in a shouting match with a fruit seller.”
“But overall, her scores have been high, and she’s managed to make herself rather a favorite with the judges.”
“That’s hardly fair to the others.”
The vizier shrugged. “The other women have had the same opportunities to win the judges over. Yasmin is simply using all of the tools at her disposal to ensure that she wins.”
Cold horror filled him at the realization that Yasmin as the winner was suddenly a very real possibility. “You can’t expect me to marry her.”
Zamar smiled sympathetically. “It doesn’t matter what I expect. The rules of the Queen’s Contest are set by tradition. The winner is your bride.”
“Can’t we…have a different challenge?” Kamaran shoved a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. “Ask them to sew a dress or knit a cap for Spot or…something else with needles.”
Jasper snorted, reminding him that the page was within earshot and privy to their entire conversation.
“I’m afraid the challenges have already been determined.” Zamar eyed him curiously. “Those requests seem quite…specific. Am I correct in assuming that you’ve finally chosen a favorite?”
“It hardly matters,” he grumbled as he sank back into the pillows. “I haven’t seen Rana since before the marketplace, and even then, we didn’t part on the best of terms. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn she’s decided she hates me again.”
“Again?” Zamar lifted a quizzical brow.
“She doesn’t hate you,” Jasper announced confidently, inserting himself into their dialogue. “In fact, I have three new pairs of pants to prove it.” He paused, adding explanation a moment later in response to their looks of confusion. “She sews much faster when she’s stressed.”
Kamaran’s hands fisted the blanket on either side of his legs, and he narrowed his eyes.
A voice in the back of his mind lectured that it was silly to be jealous, that there was no reason to view the gangly sixteen-year-old as a threat, but the hot, sharp emotion wouldn’t be reasoned with.
“Why is she making you pants? How does she know you?”
“She’s friends with my sister-in-law.” The page looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. “Aida and Rana have known one another for years.”
Mollified, Kamaran released the tension that he had been holding. “She doesn’t hate me,” he said on an exhale.
“Nope,” Jasper affirmed, popping the p. “Not only does she not hate you, but she’s been asking about you every time I see her.
The only reason she hasn’t been in to see you is that she was afraid that you wouldn’t want to see her.
” He shook his head. “The two of you really don’t know how to communicate very well, do you? ”
Kamaran laughed, feeling lighter and more hopeful than he had in nearly a week. “Evidently not.” Spurred by the sudden need to see Rana’s face, he slowly began swiveling his legs over the side of the bed.
Zamar cleared his throat. “As enlightening and undoubtedly important as this conversation is, I do need a moment of your time before you attempt to run off, Your Majesty.” He handed over a stack of papers.
He sighed and pulled his legs back in. Though he had been ready just a few moments before to push himself out of bed and traverse the palace in search of Rana, the idea of sitting with his chief vizier while putting on his usual act of attempting to decipher the unreliable markings while pretending that absolutely nothing was amiss filled him with sudden exhaustion. “Of course.”
Zamar regarded him with surprise. “Are you sure you’re feeling well, Your Majesty?”
“Now you ask? Shouldn’t that have happened before you shoved work in my face?”
“We were expecting to need to use manipulation and bribery,” Jasper offered.
Zamar sent the boy a warning glare before turning back to Kamaran and adding, “The sudden capitulation is unlike you.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, well. Rana seems to think that I shirk far too many of my duties.”
“I see.” His vizier’s face was a bland, emotionless mask. “And you’re trying to prove her wrong?”
“I’m trying not to be a lizard.”
I’ll never truly be worthy of my title—I’m far too stupid for that—but at least I can say I’m trying.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind.” Kamaran waved the topic away. “Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
Zamar was suddenly back to business. “Two things, actually. Before we get to that.” He nodded toward the papers. “There is an update on the young man who stabbed you.”
“Oh?” He looked up in interest. “Was Captain Haddad able to get any further information?”
“Unfortunately not. Shortly after he was apprehended, the boy experienced an episode of some kind and collapsed. He’s alive but unresponsive, and, given his sad physical state, the surgeon is doubtful that he will recover.”
Kamaran nodded slowly. “I see.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Jasper blurted.
His face had turned a bright shade of red that was all the more noticeable due to his pale skin.
“I should have sent Spot after him when we first saw him running, but, well, all I could think of was that I’d been in his shoes before, and what if he wasn’t actually guilty?
But if I had just listened to Rana, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. ” He hung his head.
Kamaran and Zamar exchanged glances. From what he knew of the page’s history, Jasper had once been a street urchin framed for theft by a scheming treasure hunter.
It made sense that he would have hesitated to act, given the situation.
“You’re not responsible,” he said kindly, doing his best to channel the reassuring tone and smile that he had received so often from his father.
“What’s done is done, and we have you to thank for catching the boy in the first place. ”
Jasper nodded silently, his eyes still glued to the floor.
Zamar continued. “Even so, it seems rather unlikely that a child his age would have had the ability and foresight to carry out an assassination attempt. It was not widely known that you would be in the marketplace that day, which means it was likely either a crime of opportunity or else an unfortunate accident.”
“Ideally the latter. I’d like to think, for the sake of my ego, that I’m not quite so unpopular as to have adolescents jumping up to kill me at the spur of the moment.”
“I think your ego is safe. If nothing else, the people are quite invested in the outcome of the Queen’s Contest, which brings me to my next topic—your wedding.”
Kamaran nearly dropped the papers. “Isn’t it a little soon for that?”
“Not at all. The end of the contest is in just two weeks.”
“Right, but there’s nothing that says a wedding has to happen immediately.” His pulse spiked, and he felt the rush of adrenaline as panic raced through his body. “There’s still the planning and the organizing and the…whatever else needs to happen for a wedding.”
“Exactly, which is why the ladies will each be given a reasonable budget and the task of planning the event.” Zamar tapped the stack of papers in Kamaran’s hands. “Everything they need to know is in here, including the proposed guest list, approved vendors, and available locations and staff.”
He frowned. “Why are you giving it to me?”
“It’s your wedding, too, Your Majesty. Who else do you think is going to be on hand to answer any questions the contestants might have?”
Kamaran threw his head back and groaned.
“Think of it this way: what better way to get to know your prospective spouse than spending a few hours discussing a budget and deciding on cake and floral arrangements?”