Chapter 22
Aisha couldn’t breathe.
The light behind Zahvik made him burn gold at the edges. It was really him. There were more lines on his face and grey in his hair, but everything else… Same height and build, same slow, measured way of walking.
A loud clatter broke the silence. Someone had dropped something, a goblet maybe. A servant hurried over to clean up the mess.
Aisha’s pulse roared in her ears as memories of him flooded back in. That day was branded on her soul. Her mother’s screams. The primal noises coming from her father. The exact shade of Zahvik’s eyes when he addressed them.
She flinched when Tariq took her hand under the table. Only then did she realise she was shaking. Her eyes met Lilah’s across the room. A servant was mopping up wine on the table in front of her. She looked as though she had been slapped.
Safiya had never laid eyes on Zahvik before, but judging by her glare, she knew exactly who it was.
‘Look at me,’ Tariq said.
Aisha dragged her gaze to his.
‘Whatever this is, you and your sisters are safe. Understand me?’
She nodded.
King Hamza rose from his seat, a welcoming smile on his face, suggesting this was not a surprise visit. Queen Farrah, on the other hand, looked from the sectarian to her husband, then back again. Her fingers had tightened visibly around the stem of her cup, the only indicator of her internal state.
Everyone watched as Zahvik made his way to the royal dais, flanked by two holy warriors. Their synchronised, armed presence was designed to intimidate.
Zahvik stopped before the king and queen and bowed his head. ‘Your Majesties.’
That voice. How many times had she heard it in her mind? In her dreams? Smooth as silk.
‘Your Holiness,’ Hamza replied. ‘I must apologise. I had no idea you were arriving today.’
The queen managed to smile. ‘We would have sent a carriage.’
Zahvik met her gaze. ‘I told the men at the dock not to interrupt this sacred event.’
What did he think he was doing at that very moment? It had been intentional. The entire kingdom could be on fire, and Zahvik would know exactly which direction the smoke was blowing. These people had eyes and ears in every corner of the empire.
Zahvik looked around until his gaze snagged on Aisha. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Recognition dawned, and his mouth curved up. His expression was neither cruel nor kind. He was simply making sure she felt seen.
Tariq got to his feet, drawing the sectarian’s gaze to him.
Zahvik looked him over. ‘And you must be Gruisea’s Crown Prince I have heard so much about.
When King Hamza sent the invitation to foreign emissaries, the Emperor insisted I attend in person to bless the happy couple.
’ He extended a hand in Tariq’s direction, expecting him to come forwards and kiss it.
Aisha gripped the edge of her chair with both hands.
Noticing, Tariq placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Forgive me, Your Holiness, but the Binding Feast tradition requires us to refrain from interacting with guests.’
The sectarian bowed his head. ‘We must respect traditions of this land.’
‘Numair, would you show His Holiness to his seat?’ Farrah said.
The steward came forwards, gesturing to the space between Jamil and Lilah. Aisha watched the colour drain from her sister’s face.
‘No!’ Aisha shouted, shooting up out of her seat.
‘You killed her!’ Zara’s young voice screamed in her mind.
Aisha fought the urge to cover her ears. Everyone was looking at her now, all with shocked expressions—except for Zahvik. He watched with interest.
All of Aisha’s instincts yelled not to let him near her sisters. And she would honour those instincts like her mother always had. ‘I…’
Tariq looked from Aisha to Zahvik. ‘We would be honoured if you joined us at our table.’
He had salvaged the mess the only way he could, and she didn’t contradict him.
She lowered herself into her chair as the sectarian was shown to a seat on the other side of Tariq.
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.
It was clear from the expressions of the nobility that they did not know what to make of the situation.
Aisha looked again at her sisters and saw that Lilah’s eyes had filled with tears. The damage this man continued to cause their family was unbearable.
Farrah leaned in to say something to the king, the corners of her mouth tight. Her eyes met Aisha’s briefly in the process, and Aisha could have sworn she saw traces of sympathy. The king nodded, then got to his feet, drawing the attention of the room. He raised his cup in the air.
Aisha and Tariq exchanged an equally confused look.
‘We have all observed Princess Aisha and Prince Tariq here tonight,’ Hamza said, his voice booming. ‘Now, I ask you, who among us blesses this union?’
He had jumped ahead to the toast.
Aisha’s gaze found Farrah’s, and she wondered if the queen had told her husband to do it. She didn’t know if it was an act of mercy or an attempt to save face, but she appreciated it more than Farrah would ever know.
The guests looked between themselves. Then, one by one, goblets rose. Some with enthusiasm, and some with reluctance, but up they went. More than enough.
‘So be it,’ Hamza said. ‘The union will be made sacred before the gods one week from now.’
Aisha’s eyes closed as relief washed over her.
‘Why would the king invite him to the wedding?’ Lilah asked, her eyes full of tears once more.
Aisha looked at her. ‘The invitation was for foreign emissaries. Due to their relationship with Slevaborg, they could hardly exclude them.’
‘The Emperor knew exactly what he was doing when he sent Zahvik,’ Safiya said, fuming. ‘It’s intimidation in its purest form.’
They were seated on Aisha’s bed with their knees pulled up, facing one another.
‘It’s a long way to travel to flex some muscle,’ Lilah said.
Aisha didn’t mention all the other possible reasons he was there, like psychologically tormenting their entire family or hunting for covenweavers among them.
Lilah was rocking slightly as she thought. ‘How are you going to get through this wedding with him watching your every move and breathing down your neck?’
Aisha reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘We’re not frightened children anymore.’
‘You’re right,’ Lilah replied. ‘We’re frightened adults.’
Safiya shook her head. ‘He doesn’t scare me.’ She looked at Aisha. ‘You did an amazing job tonight given the circumstances. And I was pleased to see Tariq looking out for you. It makes me feel better about the whole marrying him thing.’
Aisha felt for the token beneath the fabric of her gown.
‘What are we going to do about father?’ Lilah asked. ‘He hasn’t seen Zahvik since…’
The image of his dusty face and bloodstained teeth flashed in Aisha’s mind. She blinked it away. ‘He has to come.’ Her voice was heavy. ‘He has to. The marriage isn’t lawful without him.’
Safiya leaned back with a sigh. ‘They’re so rigid with their traditions. What if he were dead?’
‘That would be a different matter,’ Aisha said, ‘but he’s alive, so he must consent in person.’
‘Getting him here will be one thing. Getting him into the same room as that man will be something else.’ Lilah wiped her eyes. ‘We didn’t want to say anything—’
‘Lilah,’ Safiya cut in.
‘She needs to know.’
‘Know what?’ Aisha asked.
Lilah waited for Safiya to relax before continuing. ‘We weren’t going to say anything because you have enough to worry about, but Baba has gotten worse since you left.’
‘Worse how?’
Safiya answered that. ‘Disorientation, tremors, withdrawal, difficulty making even the smallest decision.’
Silence followed.
There was a knock at the door, and Safiya climbed off the bed, reaching beneath her skirts and pulling out a small knife.
‘Safiya,’ Lilah whispered. ‘Put that away.’
‘With Zahvik loose in the castle—no way.’ She pulled the door open and immediately hid the knife behind her back. ‘Your Highness.’
Aisha hopped off the bed and went to the door. Tariq was still in his formal robes, fatigue softening the lines of his face.
‘Should I be worried that your sister’s answering the door with a knife?’ the prince said.
Aisha shooed Safiya back from the door. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘I just wanted to check on you before retiring,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise you still had company.’
Safiya cleared her throat and went over to Lilah, dragging her off the bed. ‘We were just leaving, weren’t we?’
Lilah stumbled off the bed. ‘Yes. Yes, we were.’
‘There’s no need to leave on my account,’ Tariq said.
‘We’re truly exhausted,’ Lilah said as she passed them in the doorway. ‘Goodnight.’
Aisha watched them disappear through the door on the other side of the corridor, then exchanged an amused look with Tariq as she stepped aside to let him in. ‘Come in.’
‘If you’re tired—’
‘I’m fine. Just don’t wake the baby.’ She nodded towards Mira, who was curled up on the divan. She didn’t so much as open one eye. ‘Have a seat.’
He walked over to the table and slid into one of the chairs, looking her over. ‘So, you’re all right?’
She poured him some water from the jug and slid the cup towards him before taking the seat opposite him. ‘I think so.’ She watched him drink. ‘Thanks to you.’
He watched her as he placed the cup down. ‘The evening was… intense.’
‘Nothing ruins the appetite faster than your mother’s murderer taking a seat at your table.’
‘I’m sorry about that.’
She waved his apology away. ‘You did the right thing. Better my table than theirs.’
‘That’s what I figured.’
‘I have you for protection, and they only have me.’
His eyes moved between hers. ‘I hope you know my protection extends to everyone you love.’
She felt her eyes sting as tears rose to the surface. ‘I know.’ The words came out a little choked.
He looked away. ‘Just as well with Safiya walking around the castle armed.’
‘I promise to have a word with her about that.’
Tariq exhaled through his nose. ‘I don’t mind. I like that she’s protective of you.’ After another silence, he said, ‘There was no colour left on your face at the feast. You were white as a sheet.’ His concerned eyes returned to hers. ‘I’m glad to see it has finally returned.’
Aisha’s throat tightened. ‘I never thought I’d have to see him again, and if I did, I thought I’d have time to prepare.’
He slid his hand across the table, the tips of his fingers meeting hers. ‘He’s going to be here for the wedding.’
‘I know.’ She watched their fingers touching. ‘I’ll get through it. I’m just not sure my father will.’
He nodded. ‘You should write to Zara and warn her.’
That was all she could do.
At some point, her fingers had entwined with his. She felt the temperature in the room rise slightly. And when Tariq’s fingers flexed against hers, she felt that too.
Standing slowly from her seat, she walked over to him, her bare feet silent on the floor. Tariq tipped his head back to look up at her, that familiar crease forming between his brows. She smoothed it with her thumb.
His hands settled at her waist, palms blissfully warm through the fabric. She found herself imagining their warmth against her bare skin.
Aisha brought her hands to his shoulders, feeling them rise and fall with his breath.
For the first time that evening, the tension in her stomach loosened.
Her fingers travelled from his shoulders to his collar, brushing against the soft edges of the embroidery.
Tariq’s grip on her waist tightened, just slightly.
‘Do you still think we shouldn’t let our feelings get in the way?’ she asked softly.
His eyes turned liquid as he stared up at her. ‘It was a solid plan at the time.’ He reached up to touch her now-messy braid. ‘But plans change.’
She lowered her forehead to his. ‘Best we keep plans flexible.’
Tariq turned in his chair to kiss her. There was nothing rushed about it, only a slow unravelling of restraint. His hand moved to the back of her neck, drawing her down, and her fingers slid into his hair.
When he stood, she moved with him instinctively, breathing against him. His desire bled into every kiss. He lifted her gently, and her legs curled around him.
Mira didn’t stir, and the world outside the room didn’t matter.
Tariq held her with care, like he was afraid the moment might shatter if he moved too quickly.
‘Do you want to wait?’ he asked. ‘Until after the ceremony?’
Aisha’s lips turned up. ‘The ceremony is for them. We were bound the day we met, when the gods showed me a future with you.’ She slid her hands inside his tunic, feeling for his heartbeat. ‘Our hearts have already chosen.’
Tariq’s expression intensified as he stared at her. Heat radiated from him, his muscles tensing under her touch. His mouth went to her neck. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered.
Aisha closed her eyes as teeth grazed her skin. The world fell away, but this time it had nothing to do with a vision.