Chapter 7 #2
Tariq clapped him on the back. ‘Thank you for that.’
‘Not much of a sense of humour, this one,’ Kalila told Aisha. ‘Takes after his mother.’
‘Hamza is not much better,’ Eyad said. ‘Though there is not a lot for him to laugh at right now.’
Concerned that his aunt and uncle were about to reveal too much, too soon, Tariq interjected. ‘You’ll have to excuse us. We must keep doing our rounds.’
Aisha took hold of his arm again. ‘It was lovely meeting you both.’
As they walked away, Tariq brought his head closer to Aisha’s. ‘Safe to say they liked you.’
‘If they’re all that easy, it’ll be a great night.’
Tariq glanced in the direction of his parents, who were seated at the far end of the courtyard, keeping an eye on the pair as they carried on their conversations.
One by one, the prince introduced Aisha to everyone in attendance. He remained careful with his words, acknowledging her rank, offering praise, but never naming her as his chosen bride. Not yet. The whispers were sharp enough already. No need to hand his parents the blade.
Aisha was far too good at her part. Charming when appropriate, poised under scrutiny. His mother must have seen it too, because her sharp eyes rarely left them.
‘We’re almost done,’ Tariq whispered as they crossed to the final group.
Aisha looked around, smiling. ‘Your mother hasn’t stopped staring.’
‘Great. Then she’s witnessed how well you’ve been received.’
They crossed to the couple by the fountain, the last introductions of the evening. He inclined his head as they came to a stop. ‘Lord Daman, Lady Selene. May I present Princess Aisha of Avanid.’
Selene’s painted smile didn’t falter, but her first words landed like a knife. ‘Ah, the Mad King’s daughter. What a lucky escape.’
Tariq had left them to last for that very reason.
He felt Aisha’s fingers press into his arm at the words.
He gave her a moment to recover in case she wanted to respond herself, and when she didn’t speak, he did.
‘I had the pleasure of meeting King Bilal recently.’ He kept his tone light.
‘He was very welcoming. A true family man.’ He stared at Selene, calm but pointed.
Selene’s smile tightened. ‘I think it is lovely that the Emperor let you enter Avanid.’
Lord Daman muttered something about the fine weather, attempting to move the conversation along, but it was too late for that. Aisha couldn’t seem to recover.
Swallowing, she finally found her voice. ‘Would you excuse us? I’m rather thirsty.’
Tariq inclined his head again. ‘Forgive the fleeting introduction, but we were just on our way to get some refreshments.’ He guided Aisha away before the pair even had a chance to reply, waiting until they were well out of earshot before speaking.
‘Don’t take anything that woman says to heart.
’ He snatched a drink off a passing tray and handed it to Aisha as they came to a stop.
‘She’s well-known for stirring up trouble. ’
Aisha stared into the cup of mead. ‘Is that what people call him? The Mad King?’
He didn’t know how to answer her. Of course she didn’t know. How could she? ‘Some people.’
‘People here?’ She looked up. ‘Or people everywhere?’
His eyes moved between hers. She wanted to know if it was only Gruisea laughing behind her father’s back or the entire empire. ‘They’re just rumours.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘He’s not crazy. He’s just sad.’
The way her voice broke at the end had him looking away. He unfortunately locked eyes with his mother in the process, and she began making her way over to them—at the worst possible time.
‘There she is,’ Farrah said. ‘The desert flower.’
Aisha blinked to clear her eyes. ‘Your Majesty.’
‘I know you have already met a lot of people this evening,’ Farrah said, ‘but I wanted to introduce you to Gruisea’s Divine Sectarian.’
Aisha’s eyes widened.
The queen gestured to Jamil, who was speaking with someone nearby. The sectarian excused himself, then turned towards them, the familiar sweep of his white robes brushing the floor. Jamil assessed Aisha on the walk over, taking in far more than he ever revealed.
‘This is Princess Aisha,’ Farrah said when he joined them.
Jamil extended a hand to Aisha, his thin fingers steady, expectant.
Aisha stared at the hand as though it were a blade aimed at her throat. It was clear she didn’t want to take it. And Tariq knew why.
Farrah’s brows lifted slightly when she didn’t move. ‘Something the matter?’
‘No,’ Aisha said on an inhale. Slowly, she took hold of Jamil’s hand and brought it to her lips, then touched her forehead to his skin.
Tariq didn’t miss the tremble of her hands. Nor did his mother, who watched each movement like a hawk.
‘Your Holiness,’ Aisha said, straightening. ‘It’s an honour.’
Jamil inclined his head. ‘May the gods bless and keep you safe during your time here in Gruisea.’
Aisha clasped, then unclasped her hands. Tariq wasn’t willing to stand by and watch her struggle any longer.
‘We were actually just leaving,’ he said. ‘I’m going to escort the princess back to her chamber.’
Farrah looked Aisha over. ‘Tired so soon?’
‘Yes,’ Tariq said, answering for her.
Aisha bowed her head. ‘Your Majesty. Your Holiness.’
Tariq placed a hand at her back and guided her towards the exit, moving through a murmur of whispers. He ignored them, knowing Aisha had done everything right in winning their approval. Kaidon fell in behind them, silent and watchful.
They didn’t slow down until the doors swung shut behind them and the noise of the courtyard faded. Tariq’s hand fell away when he saw her shoulders relax. They walked in silence.
When they reached her chamber door, Aisha turned and looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘There’s nothing to apologise for.’
She looked like she had more to say. ‘I haven’t had the best experiences with sectarians.’
‘I know.’ Sectarians were responsible for the burning of covenweavers. For the burning of her mother. ‘I suspect the queen knows too. I’m sorry about that.’
Aisha shook her head. ‘She just wants the best for you.’
‘You don’t have to defend her to me.’
She fell silent.
‘You haven’t eaten anything all evening,’ he said. ‘I’ll have a tray sent to you.’
She nodded and brought her gaze back to his. ‘What will happen now?’
Now, the nobility would gossip relentlessly, discussing every reason why she was right for the role and every reason she was wrong for it. They would scrutinise every detail of her appearance and every word spoken.
‘Now we let them get used to the idea of you.’ He took a step back. ‘Goodnight.’
Aisha inclined her head. ‘Goodnight.’ She disappeared inside her rooms.
Tariq headed off down the corridor, and Kaidon fell into step with him.
‘Where are you going?’ he asked.
‘The servants’ quarters.’
Kaidon didn’t need to ask why.
When they arrived at Maryam’s room, Tariq rapped once on the door. Maryam opened it, her short hair catching the lamplight as she looked between them. She stepped back to let them in, closing the door behind them.
‘Forgive the intrusion,’ Tariq began.
‘It is quite all right, Your Highness. Go ahead.’
Tariq hesitated. ‘Now that you’ve spent time with the princess, I need to know it’s her.’
Maryam’s gaze flicked to the closed door behind him before answering. ‘Yes,’ she said, nodding. ‘It is her. Aisha is the woman from my vision.’