Chapter 1 #2
There was a beat of silence before he responded. ‘All trade goes through Slevaborg now. The Emperor chooses which information is passed on.’
Did he say all trade? It was worse than any of them had realised.
‘I see,’ Zara said, taking the opportunity to steer the conversation.
‘It sounds like you need more than figures. While information is a great foundation, foundations don’t build fortresses.
’ She paused. ‘If Gruisea and Avanid are to survive the threats encroaching on us, then perhaps we need to align more closely.’
And there it was—Avanid’s hand laid out for him to see.
The subtle tightening of Lilah’s shoulders was the only sign of her discomfort. Small, but enough to draw Tariq’s attention. His green eyes seemed to darken as he set his cup down on the table with a soft clink.
‘Go on,’ Tariq said, looking around at the captive audience.
‘One of mutual benefit and longevity,’ Zara continued in a steady voice.
The prince nodded. ‘I see.’ His gaze returned to Lilah, staring at her as if he were deciphering a puzzle. ‘Such an alliance would require deep trust.’
Zara nodded in agreement. ‘In times like these, trade is no longer enough.’
Aisha swallowed down the odd sense of guilt and complicity at the trap being set. All while her father sipped his tea and said nothing. He’d been letting Zara make big decisions for years, and this was no different.
Tariq sat back, fingers drumming on his thigh. ‘Since we’ve established we don’t have time to waste, what is it that you’re proposing?’
Bilal cleared his throat, and when everyone looked at him, he reached for his cup and drank.
Frowning, Zara turned her attention back to Tariq.
‘Gruisea has a proud history of great queens. Women who have stood alongside their kings, not merely as ornaments but strategic partners in governance.’ She paused.
‘Lilah here embodies all the traits a crown prince like yourself would seek in a wife.’
The conversation was going exactly as planned, and yet Aisha had never felt more uncomfortable. She could only imagine how hard it was for Lilah.
When Tariq didn’t speak, Zara continued. ‘Lilah is a paragon of grace and dignity. She has been trained in diplomacy from a young age, mastering the art of negotiation along with other relevant skills. Her intellect is matched only by her compassion.’
Tariq’s gaze went briefly to Lilah, his expression unchanging.
‘She understands the weight of duty,’ Zara added. ‘She knows what it means to serve her family, her people, and the greater good.’
‘From behind walls,’ Tariq replied casually.
His words had Aisha speaking up in defence of her sister. ‘I’m sure you’re aware of the reasons for that, Your Highness.’
Green eyes locked on hers once more. ‘A queen must understand the realities of the world outside the walls of her keep. Gruisea is not Avanid.’
‘Lilah is a quick study,’ Zara said. ‘Adaptable.’
His gaze shifted back to Lilah. ‘And yet your sisters speak for you.’
Flustered, Lilah opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out.
Aisha was tempted to step in and fill the silence, but this was Lilah’s moment.
‘I—’ Lilah cleared her throat when her voice cracked. ‘I would do everything within my power to rise to the occasion, for the sake of our families and kingdoms.’
Tariq shook his head. ‘You wouldn’t survive.’
Safiya, who had done remarkably well to remain silent up until that point, could stay quiet no longer. ‘Do they not teach decorum in Gruisea?’
Tariq shrugged. ‘I thought we all agreed not to waste each other’s time.’
Lilah reached for her cup, but her hand was trembling and it slipped from her fingers, smashing on the ground. She stared down at it in horror.
A servant rushed forwards to clean the mess, and Aisha instinctively bent to help.
Apparently Tariq had similar instincts, because they both reached for the same shard of porcelain, fingers meeting.
On contact, a sudden wave of heat surged up Aisha’s arm, and the ground blurred and faded.
The sound of her sisters’ voices dissolved, replaced by the sound of waves lapping against a wooden hull.
The tang of salt filled her senses. Looking around, she realised she was aboard a ship, the deck swaying gently beneath her feet.
Aisha gripped the railing for balance, eyes drawn to the horizon, where a rugged coastline beckoned her.
Then she saw him, standing a few feet away as the wind whipped his hair.
Tariq.
When he looked in her direction, the scene disappeared. The ground and broken cup were before her once more. And Tariq’s face, mere inches from hers, staring.
Aisha bolted upright, her pulse pounding in her ears. She took hold of her chair to stop herself from swaying. Thankfully, another servant arrived, filling the space between her and the prince, silently sweeping up the mess with a small broom.
Aisha looked around to see if anyone else had noticed.
Safiya and Lilah were out of their chairs, politely excusing themselves.
Understandable given the humiliation. But Zara was looking straight at Aisha, head tilted and an all-knowing look on her face.
It had been a long time since Aisha had experienced a vision.
She thought she had shut that part of herself down—just as Zara wanted.
When Aisha could take the stares no longer, she rose. ‘Please excuse me.’ She managed a smile, though she still felt dizzy. ‘I’m just going to check on Yasmin and Omar.’
Tariq stood courteously, despite his far from courteous words earlier, and bowed his head.
Aisha left, trying not to hurry but desperately needing a moment. She was almost at the main doors when she heard Zara call her name. ‘Aisha, stop.’
Her feet obeyed her sister against her own wishes. Damn feet. Aisha turned, slowly, and watched Zara approach. Her face appeared calm, but her eyes gave away her true state. She stopped in front of Aisha and looked around before speaking.
‘What happened back there?’ Her eyes moved over Aisha’s face as if looking for lies before she had even opened her mouth.
‘She was clearly nervous, and the cup slipped—’
‘You know very well I’m not asking about that.’
Aisha had no choice but to disappoint her with the truth. ‘I should have worn gloves. I didn’t think. It had been so long.’
Concern was etched on Zara’s face. ‘You saw something.’
‘I don’t know.’ A lie. ‘It’s been over a year since—’
‘What? Suddenly you can’t recognise it when it happens?’ Zara gave her a doubtful look. ‘Enough of that. I need to know what you saw.’
Everything Aisha was about to say would ruin all their plans. ‘I was on a ship. Sailing towards an unfamiliar place.’ She swallowed. ‘Tariq was there.’
Zara’s eyes widened a little. ‘You were on a ship? With the prince?’
Aisha nodded.
There was a long, thoughtful silence before Zara said, ‘We can fix this.’
‘What do you mean?’
Zara held on to her hips, turning in a circle as she worked through the implications. ‘You can go to Gruisea in her place.’
Aisha blinked, shocked. ‘What?’
Stopping, Zara asked, ‘You’re sure it was you on that ship?’
‘Yes.’ The word was a whisper.
Zara nodded, as though deciding on something. ‘Then you will take her place.’
Aisha stepped back from her sister’s words. ‘No. You’re putting too much faith in what I saw.’
‘Have they ever been wrong? These visions of yours?’
Aisha tried to think of one time they had been inaccurate in order to back herself but came up blank.
‘What about when Omar cut his foot,’ Zara continued, ‘and you saw the whole thing the day before it happened. Was any detail incorrect? The colour of his trousers, perhaps?’
Aisha exhaled. ‘No.’
‘Then this path has already been decided, hasn’t it?’
A thousand thoughts and feelings hit Aisha at the same time. ‘You heard what he said. He doesn’t want a wife raised inside walls.’
‘We already know he will want you.’
‘But why?’ Aisha shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know anything about me.’
Zara looked around as though the answer lay somewhere in the courtyard. ‘Well, Baba always said he knew from the moment he laid eyes on Mama.’
The comment threw Aisha. Zara never spoke of matters of the heart because it wasn’t practical. They had all assumed that part of her had been suffocated years ago.
‘I just know we need to take full advantage of this attraction before it wanes,’ Zara added. Then, softer, ‘We’re running out of time.’
That sounded much more like the sister Aisha knew.
‘So I’ll go back in there and get this deal done,’ Zara said, the strength returning to her voice.
Aisha glanced in the direction of the garden. ‘And if we’re wrong?’
‘I can be wrong.’ Zara took a slow step forwards, closing the distance between them. ‘But your vision can’t.’