The Bodyguard
Terror. It was the only word to describe the emotion that had traveled through me. When he forced me into his arms, I could only think of that dark figure hovering over me. I panicked and did the only thing I could. I fought, stabbing the dagger he’d given me into his shoulder.
Dayyan released me and stepped back. He looked down, staring at his wound, shock plastering his features. Blood rushed past my ears. I had to kill him. If I didn’t, he would exact retribution.
Do it now, I told myself, while he’s still in shock.
This is my duty. But I couldn’t move. His eyes shot to me.
The wildness in his expression when he had entered the room was gone, replaced by sadness.
He retreated another pace, holding pressure to his wound.
Blood trickled over his fingers. And then he left the chamber.
I sank into the vanity chair and buried my face in my hands.
I should have aimed for a vital area. I should have gone for his heart.
And yet the thought of draining him of life unsettled me.
This was what I was there for. To kill the princes.
And yet guilt so alarmingly strong filled my entire being.
The sadness in his eyes upset me for reasons I couldn’t comprehend.
Why had he embraced me? What had driven him to hold me as if he would never let go?
He would go now to a healer and expose me.
I would finally meet my death. Or he would attempt to patch himself up and conceal the incident.
Something told me he would do the latter.
I gathered my determination, tucked the end of my chadar over my shoulder, and marched from the chamber.
I had nearly reached my destination when a familiar sneer crossed my path. Shahzadeh Bahir halted before me.
“Shahdokht.” He bowed his head. “I heard and saw your legendary prowess in the arena.”
I kept my lips clamped together.
“Unfortunately, your sacrifice was for naught. Those prisoners Dayyan so righteously set free were slayed.”
My mouth parted. “What?”
“After they set off, the shah’s executioner intercepted them himself. He slaughtered them all. And not only that, but he killed more of your people during the council meeting today.”
“You are lying.”
But why would he? Dayyan had proved himself to be murderous. I had witnessed his cruelty with my own eyes.
“It seems he’s trying to win you over, Shahdokht.” Bahir chuckled. “And it appears it was working.”
His laughter rang in my ears long after he swept past me. Anger replaced my guilt as the fuel that drove me toward Dayyan’s work chamber.
The door banged against the wall. Dayyan turned, surprise lashing his features.
He held a cloth to his shoulder. My bloody dagger rested on the table behind him among stacks of parchment.
He was only wearing baggy trousers. I hesitated, but my fury was too powerful to send me retreating now. I stormed toward him.
“How could you?” I spat. “How could you play games with me?”
He adjusted his grip on the red-stained cloth. “What are you speaking about?”
“The prisoners. The ones you proclaimed to have set free in the arena. You killed them all.”
“I swear I let them go, Farani.”
“Stop swearing!” I exclaimed. “Your pledges have no worth to me.”
“I let the prisoners go,” he said, adamant. “Who told you otherwise?”
“What does it matter? You killed them.”
“Bahir.” His features turned menacing. He fisted the cloth before tossing it aside. “I told him to stay away from you.”
“It doesn’t matter who told me,” I repeated, but my eyes found their way to his wound. Blood seeped now that nothing held it back. I longed to tell him to stem the bleeding, but pride stopped me.
“That demon!” Dayyan slammed a fist into the table.
The action caused more blood to slip down his brown skin, and a deep feverish flush trailed across his nose. My worry mounted.
“Dayyan!”
He continued muttering, blocking me out.
I tossed the parchments from the table, forcing his attention to me. “You need to stop the bleeding.”
A demeaning smile curled his lips. “Why do you care? Let me die like the murderous bastard I am.” He looked down, watching the parchment fluttering around our feet. The pinkness in his cheeks darkened. “A foolish bastard.” The soft words emerged broken.
I followed his gaze, and my heart dropped.
Drawings. So many of them. Of his siblings and other intricate designs.
But most were drawings of me. Smiling, angry, morose.
Breath escaped my parted lips. I looked back at his face.
He watched me, a defeated slump in his shoulders. His wound was still bleeding furiously.
“Please,” I said, emotion clogging my throat. “Press something to it.”
Dayyan turned toward the table, grabbed my dagger, and placed it into my hand. “Leave.”
The word was sharp and commanding, and yet an underlining of hurt simmered beneath. Something told me to stay, to ensure he didn’t bleed to death, and another part screamed at me to leave. I steadied myself and exited the chamber, closing the door behind me.