Epilogue
J ahar sat in the sand under the night sky.
He hated that she was in this foreign place by herself, with people neither of them knew anything about.
He hated that he couldn’t hold her now, couldn’t touch her, couldn’t go into the veil with her and support her.
He hated that he couldn’t feel anything physical anymore, not the sand grains beneath him, not the cold breeze under the sunless sky, not the clothes that somehow still clung to his body.
Somehow, however, he could still feel the faint pain that lay in his chest, where the dagger had pierced his skin and heart, but even that felt like a faint memory at this point as his mind seemed to be in ruin.
He could feel his grief, his fear, his love, and it all seemed to be amplified now.
For everything he lost in his physical touch, he gained twofold in his mind to his emotions.
And he couldn’t stop his mind from whirling, from trying to connect everything that had happened in the last day, to make sense of it.
Everything seemed so perfect. It happened so fast. It seemed like things were finally going to work out and everything would be fine.
He and Aza could openly love each other.
She would be safe. She would be happier.
He was starting to gain relief from all that he had buried and hid. How did that all change so quickly?
He would give anything to restart the day, to do it over again, to change the past. But he could not.
It wasn’t himself he was worried about. It was Aza.
He worried about what would happen to her as she tried to navigate this new reality.
He couldn’t begin to imagine how she felt learning that she could see the spirits of the dead, and that he was one of them.
He hadn’t wanted to lie to her, but he hadn’t understood what was happening when she entered the dungeons.
He didn’t understand how she could see him, because he knew he was dead.
It wasn’t until she told him about all that her Jaddah had revealed that it all started to make sense.
That she was a spirit guide, and all the visions, nightmares, and voices were not what they seemed.
It still saddened him how the healers had said over and over that there was nothing wrong, nothing they could fix.
Would anything have changed if she had grown up knowing that she wasn't sick?
He didn't know, but the past couldn’t be changed.
Either way, he still hadn’t wanted to tell her he had been killed.
He wanted her to get the knowledge and understanding she needed and deserved, before he inevitably had to break her heart.
And although his was no longer beating, it still broke for her.
It killed him to send her off on that horse by herself.
But being a spirit, there was no way he could ride a horse alongside her.
He had to let her get there herself, and then he would find a way in the in-between to reach her.
There was nowhere she could go that he wouldn't find her.
He couldn't imagine what would transpire later, though. He couldn’t shake the heartbreaking look on her face when she had come out from the veil, when she had screamed at him to tell her what had happened, to tell her when he had died.
He couldn’t handle her screams that echoed through the air.
He couldn’t bear to see the tears spring from her eyes, to see the hope leave her body.
Nothing would fill the hole in him that spread rapidly at seeing her break, at hearing her desperate plan to fix things.
He did not want her to make a deal with Death.
It was far too dangerous. His life, or lack thereof, was not worth hers.
He had told her that he did not fear death, only what leaving her would do to her.
And he was right in that fear. He held on to the little bit of gratefulness he felt that she didn’t want to end her life to be with him.
But that didn’t mean Death wouldn’t take it when she went knocking on his door.
He just wanted her to be safe, and with all that had just happened, he didn't think she was.
Jahar kept getting pulled back into the memories of the day, unable to escape them. Like his life and death kept repeating before his eyes. Sometimes he struggled to stay in the moment, to stay present.
The ball flashed before his eyes. He saw Aza standing there in her beautiful dress, the one that accentuated her curves and made her hair pop. The one that made her look like the queen she was destined to be.
She had seemed quite unsettled having to interact with the variety of suitors that prowled their way towards her. Jahar didn't miss the way her shoulders pulled back and her body tensed when King Abasi walked up.
Aza had been so adamant that something was wrong with that man.
That he scared her and made her uncomfortable.
Jahar hadn't meant in any way to seem as if he didn't believe her.
Quite the contrary, he didn't trust that man at all and believed everything she felt was valid. He just didn’t want her digging into things that could get her in trouble or hurt.
He couldn't understand why this King was so adamant to claim Aza.
Why he seemed to desperately want a marriage alliance with her.
He seemed very well off with all his gold and mounds of food.
What could the Khazai Kingdom have to offer that would top that?
But there he was at the ball, strolling up to her and the King as if he owned the place.
Boisterous, as if he were untouchable, as if his offer could not be refused.
His eyes held danger as they lingered on Aza.
Jahar saw her body sway slightly with nerves, and he could only guess her fingers fidgeted in front of her.
Jahar wanted to take him down where he stood for even making Aza feel the slightest bit of discomfort.
Even if the tides had turned he would stop at nothing to ensure she did not become his wife.
When Abasi had finally stopped spewing his nonsense and King Nefir had dismissed him, his eyes finally met Jahar’s and a blazing, hatefulness flooded them.
Jahar kept his stance and stare firm and unwavering.
He would not show any weakness or cowardice to that man.
Aza was his, his princess, his love, his everything, and he'd be damned if any other man tried to interfere or steal her away.
Later that night, when Aza was dancing with Zhou and Jahar stood near the wall but still close enough to her, King Abasi snuck over to him, standing beside him with his back to the wall and arms clasped behind him.
He stood there silently for a minute, his eyes solely on Aza.
Jahar tried to pay him no attention, but he couldn't help straining his eyes to look beside him at the King, trying not to move his head in indication.
Abasi finally cleared his throat before speaking to Jahar.
“She will make quite a sight for the eyes as the queen on my arm.”
Jahar's jaw tightened to the point of nearly cracking his teeth, but he held back any return remarks.
“I am going to speak with the King in the morning. He will not be able to refuse my offer. I am the best choice. Anyone else would be inferior, especially someone who was simply a servant with armor. I will not let anything or anyone get in the way of that.” He said it calmly, too calmly.
Jahar knew he was baiting him, but he continued to hold his tongue. He couldn’t, however, prevent his fist clenching to the point of his nails being on the verge of drawing blood.
”She will provide me with what I want, and she will be responsible for continuing my reign with an heir.
When I first endeavored for her to be my wife I had heard of her beauty, but that hadn't intrigued me much.
Beautiful or not she would still carry my child.
But I know now that I won't just be coupling with her for an heir.
I am going to make sure she warms my bed every night. I'm sure she has a tight little pus…”
Abasi had hit a nerve, and Jahar spun to face him, fury rolling off him in ways, “She will never marry you.” He spews through clenched teeth.
”No, she will never marry you.” He shoots back, “You have quite the nerve to speak to me, a king, as you just have, if I were your king I'd have your head.”
”My king trusts and respects me. And she has already chosen a husband, it may not be me, but it is not you and that is all that matters.” Jahar didn't mean to, but his eyes ever so briefly flickered to Zhou as he bowed after his and Aza's dance.
A snarl crossed Abasi’s face but he said nothing further as he turned and left. Jahar's nostrils still flared with rage but when he glimpsed Aza trying to find him from across the room, he straightened his face and stepped out. Her face lit instantly when she spotted him.
Jahar shook his head rapidly, trying to bring himself out of the past. The sky was a dark blue that illuminated under the full moon and the twinkle of thousands of stars.
It was quite beautiful out tonight, despite the raging storm that was now their lives, or whatever you would call this existence that Jahar found himself trapped in.
He tried to stay grounded by counting the stars, trying to find various constellations, but he was yet again pulled to the past.
He couldn't shake the memory of the fear in Aza's eyes when the guards started to take him away this past morning.
He had been scared too of getting caught, but he tried his best to hide it from his face, to put on a smile, and tell her it would be alright.
He didn't want her to worry. He would do enough of that for the both of them.