Chapter 22
T he rest of dinner is thick with tension.
It doesn’t ease until the servants clear their plates and bring dessert.
For dessert, there is a slice of what appears to be dark brown cake.
Aza takes a bite, her eyes widening. The taste pulls her back to memories of her childhood, when Jahar’s father would make them special chocolate cakes from the chocolate sent to them from Jiddu.
As far as Aza knew, only Jiddu produces this rare chocolate.
Aza had tasted other variations of chocolate, and none of them tasted like this one.
It was unmistakably chocolate from Jiddu. But how did he get it?
An awful thought follows. It was less than a year ago that Jiddu was sending goods across the sea to them when his ship was attacked near the shore by what they assumed to be bandits. They had lost a majority of their goods, including their chocolate.
Was King Abasi behind that attack? That can’t be. There were no valuables on that ship… were there?
“This chocolate is incredibly delicious. Where does it come from?” Aza asks, letting out a soft, exaggerated moan as she takes another bite of cake.
“We grow it here.”
“Do you know how? I was wondering if it was something I could grow on my own, with your permission, of course.” Aza bends her head down.
“It is nothing special. My common citizens grow it for me, but that is not something a princess should be indulging in.”
That’s impossible. This specific chocolate can only grow in the rainforest climate, which is only located in Jiddu’s Kingdom!
Aza had sent a letter to Jiddu once asking him about the chocolate after Mama’s birthday.
She had asked if he could send her a plant so that she could grow it here.
She was so very disappointed to read in his returned letter that the plant could only grow and survive in the rainforest within his kingdom; otherwise, it would dry out and not produce the beans used to make chocolate.
Jiddu’s kingdom, from what Aza had gathered, consisted of lush green lands where their castles and cities were built, but near the edge of the territory sat a massive rainforest that provided all kinds of rare and valuable items that could not be found elsewhere.
Jiddu’s kingdom was one of the top kingdoms to trade with, for they had so much to offer.
So many rare things that one couldn’t get anywhere else.
Which meant Abasi was lying. There was no way his people could grow this plant here.
So, how did he get it? She couldn’t immediately blame the theft on him without other evidence; it could very well be a coincidence.
Maybe he did trade with Jiddu, just in secret.
But why lie? There is only one way to find out.
“Do you know who King Vincenzo is?”
“No, should I?” he asks, sounding sincere.
“No, I was just wondering. He’s my grandfather. When I was a little kid, he used to send me chocolate. This cake just reminded me of him.”
“I see. I have not met him, but we could possibly travel to him one day to visit if you would like.”
“Truth be told, I’ve never actually met him.”
“That’s… odd.”
“Yes, well, he is across the sea, and there was never a good time to go.” Aza doesn’t know why she tells him this, but the thought of it makes her slightly sad, “Well, anyway. Do you think I could maybe take a slice or two home with me tomorrow? If there’s any left over, of course.
” Aza asks, planning to have Baba try the cake to see his reaction.
“I can see to that being arranged.”
“Thank you.” Aza bows her head.
They finish their dessert, yet again in silence, except for Abasi telling a server to make sure Aza has cake slices to bring home. The servants take their plates away when they finish, and Aza figures this is it for the night.
“Thank you, King Abasi, for the lovely meal.”
“Would you like to dance? It’d be a shame for our last night together on your visit to end so early.” He coaxes.
Aza’s stomach twists. The thought of being any closer to this man is terrifying, but instead, she nods and stands.
Abasi motions towards a servant and then walks over to her, reaching out a hand. She hesitantly takes it. His grip is firm and callused. He all but drags her to an open area away from the table. Aza steals a glance toward Jahar and finds him red-faced, fists clenched.
When Abasi finds a spot for them, he pulls her sharply to his chest. Snaking an arm around her waist, far lower than it should be, he holds her in place while still gripping her other hand. Aza forces her free hand to his shoulder.
His body feels far too cold against hers. He smells of metal and charcoal, and it makes her nose cringe. She wants to be anywhere but this moment, but before she can change her mind or back out, he begins leading them in a dance.
Aza hadn’t even realized the music had started until she noticed two people in the corner holding instruments she didn’t recognize.
The melody is low, ominous, too intimate for this kind of dance.
But it only seems to empower Abasi as he continues holding her close, moving them around the floor.
Aza tries her best to keep up with his footing, but she has no idea what this dance is, and he moves too fast.
“You’ll need dance lessons.” He patronizes.
“I merely do not know this specific dance, and we are doing it rather fast.”
“I can change that.” He whispers, far too close to her ear; smoke laces his breath.
Without warning, he lifts her off her feet, suspending her in the air as he spins her around.
Her body crashes into his chest, and her stomach whirls.
She catches a flash of Jahar stepping toward them, but Ramsee pulls him back, and Aza waves at him to stop.
Abasi, of course, does not notice as his face is buried in her hair.
Her skin crawls, and she has to hold her breath, counting the seconds until he puts her back down.
This is nothing like dancing with Malik or Zain.
With them, it is fun and free, and they are respectful of her body and her space.
But Abasi has taken control of the dance and her, and the fear he creates has nausea rolling in her stomach.
Abasi spins her outwards, giving a long, dragged look up and down her body. Aza catches the murderous look in Jahar’s eyes, his jaw so clenched she’s surprised he isn’t breaking his own teeth.
“You are quite the dancer, King Abasi, but I do fear I can no longer keep up and would like to take my leave to rest for the long journey tomorrow.”
Aza expects him to refuse, but instead he offers, “Very well then, let me walk you to your room.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”
“I insist,” Abasi says with a bite in his tone.
“Okay… thank you.”
As they make their way back to her room, Aza is more fearful in this moment than she had been at the thought of traveling back through the same roads they were attacked on the other day.
Jahar had told her, however, that her father did in fact send soldiers to accompany them on the way home, which made her feel a little better about the journey.
But that did little to help her at that moment.
In reality, though, what could he do? She wasn’t alone.
Her guards were here, and she was sure Jahar would slice his head off before he let him try anything further.
Still, her nerves refused to settle. She could not wait to be out of this place.
When they finally arrived at her room, Abasi just continued to stare at her, eyes dark and fiery. His body is tight with tension, his intent unmistakable. He started to lean in closer.
Maybe he drank more than I thought, or he’s drunk on seduction as Jahar feared.
Cutting him off quickly, Aza spoke, “Thank you for accompanying me to my room and for the delicious feast. We appreciate you hosting us this week. We will be leaving very early in the morning, so this is my goodbye to you, King Abasi.”
“I do think we will see each other again, Princess.” He says, “Your father has invited me to your kingdom’s ball. At the latest, I shall see you there, but if you would like to visit again, or make things official, you know where to find me.”
“I… I will keep that in mind.” Aza swallows a lump in her throat, “Good night, Your Highness.”
“Good night, Princess.” He coos before diving in to plant a kiss on her lips.
Aza hears the metal of a sword slipping out of its holster. Abasi pulls away quickly and swings his head to face Jahar, who has his hand on his half-drawn sword.
“You dare raise a weapon to me in my own castle?!” Abasi snaps.
“No! Please, his sole duty is to protect me. He just misunderstood. Please, he meant you no disrespect. I will deal with him for his actions.” Aza begs.
Abasi turns back towards her, a more violent fire in his gaze, “See that you do.”
He smooths his face out and fixes his shirt, returning his look toward Aza.
“I hope you have a restful night. My offers still stand, but that one will no longer be welcome here. Am I clear?”
“Yes.”
Abasi nods his head, “Good night, Princess.”
He walks away. They all continue to stand in the hallway, silent until Aza is sure he can no longer hear them.
“Jahar. Room. Now.” Aza commands, leading them into her room, shutting the door behind them and leaving Ramsee outside.
“Are you crazy?!” She screams, “Why would you draw your sword on the King?”
“I didn’t know what he was going to do, and after his words and actions tonight, I do not trust him.”
“I understand that, but you cannot do that!”
Jahar growls, spinning away from her and pacing the room. He drags a hand down his face. He stops several feet away, placing his hands on his hips, face turned toward the ground as he takes deep, calculated breaths.
Aza has never seen Jahar this riled up. He is normally very calm and collected, forever the perfect guard.
But recently, he has been losing his cool, breaking out of his guard character, and being extremely protective of Aza.
Part of her worries about him… another part of her selfishly relishes how turned on she gets when he loses control over her.
However, she is not trying to make him lose control, well, definitely not now at this moment.
“I appreciate you protecting me, Jahar. I did not plan for tonight to lead to that encounter, but I knew the risks, and I decided it was worth it to gather more information. This is going to sound very silly, but it is imperative that I bring home those leftover cake slices and that you keep your composure until we leave. Can you do that for me?” Aza asks patiently and calmly.
Jahar sighs deeply and walks past her bedroom into the bathing chamber.
Aza stares, confused. Jahar returns moments later with a partially wet towel.
Aza’s brows knit in confusion. Jahar places the wet towel against her lips and gently brushes it against them, wiping her lips.
Only then does she realize what he is doing. He’s trying to wipe off Abasi’s kiss.
Silly man.
Aza can’t help but shake her head and smile. He only looks at her with annoyance.
“I don’t think you got it all.” Aza teases.
Jahar grunts, throwing the towel on the ground.
“You could always seal it with a kiss, just to be extra sure.” Aza purrs.
Aza sees him swallow hard, his muscles locking in place. She bites her lip and looks down at the floor.
“Just a silly suggestion,” she murmurs, slightly embarrassed, “I do hope that doesn’t count as my first kiss though, that would be… unfortunate.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You… you’ve never kissed anyone before?” Jahar questions, surprised.
“It’s not like I can gallivant around like other girls or really get close to people, you know, with being a princess and crazy and all.”
“You are not crazy, Princess. But I guess I never thought about all that, I assumed you at least snuck one in in your teen years.”
“My mom committed suicide when I was a teenager, and I wasn’t really focused on boys. I didn’t really have any interest in them after she passed, not until y…” Aza stops herself abruptly. “It… it doesn’t matter. It didn’t happen. I was merely making a bad joke.”
Jahar steps closer to her, lifting her chin and peering into her eyes. Aza thinks for a moment that maybe he will actually kiss her this time, but he does not.
He lets go of her chin, “I’m sorry, my dear Princess.”
“We should go to bed. It is going to be a long journey tomorrow. I will walk you out.”
“Princess…” Jahar begins, but Aza walks away toward the door and opens it.
Ramsee is walking back down the hallway when the two of them step out of her room.
“What are you doing?” Jahar asks.
“Asking for forgiveness once more for your idiotic actions.”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Jahar practically spits in his face, “Our sole duty is to protect the Princess. If I were not here, would you have let him continue? Force her inside and take her in other ways. Are you too much of a coward to stand up to a king when your princess’ safety is on the line? ”
“It was merely a good-night kiss. No reason for me to lose my head over it. The Princess is and has been safe. Step off your high horse.” Ramsee barks back.
Jahar cocks his fist, preparing to send a blow to Ramsee when Killian and Colby come running down the hall and stop him.
“What is going on?” Killian yells.
“Jahar needs to take a break and get his priorities straight,” Ramsee announces with disgust.
Jahar goes to attack him again, and he is pulled back. Aza’s sure his only restraint is that he does not want to hurt Killian, or he very well could have gotten to Ramsee. Nonetheless, Aza yells at him to stop.
“This is foolishness. You both are relieved for the night.”
His nostrils flare as he rips his arm away from Killian and Colby before storming toward the guards’ rooms.
“We are here to stay with you tonight, Princess,” Killian informs her.
“Very well, thank you. I will be turning in for the night.” Aza bows and walks back into her room. She makes her way to her bedroom, changes into a nightgown, and lies down in bed. Sleep claims her quickly.