The Prince
I recalled Farani’s face when she’d seen me in the healing chamber. Her features had lit up. She had accepted my embrace. My heart banged against the ribs that caged it. Could she be thawing toward me? Did I have a chance of winning her over?
I led her to the stables. Eyes found us—or more specifically our twined hands.
Farani seemed to notice and extricated her fingers from mine.
I flexed my hand, alarmed at how cold the loss of hers made it.
I ignored the sudden tension and motioned to the stable entrance.
Farani gave me a questioning look. When I didn’t explain, she entered the stables. I could feel her burning curiosity.
The stable hands bowed their heads. We passed stalls filled with Northern horses, bulky warhorses bred for battle and stamina during long treks across the desert.
They were built to survive severe temperatures and outlast devastating wars, whereas the Southern altizar breed was born to rule over them.
I may be a Northerner, but I was not afraid to admit where the Southerners bested us.
We stopped before the ring encircling the wide training grounds.
I heard Farani’s intake of breath. She spotted the horse before I did, racing within the enclosure.
The altizar whinnied as she rose onto her hind legs, displaying her rebellious nature and iridescent coat, with shimmering silver hair that rippled with each toss of her head.
“An altizar,” Farani whispered.
She seemed to forget my presence, darting over the fence and dropping into the arena.
The altizar froze and zeroed in on her. I snapped my fingers, and guards appeared from their shadowed positions, spears and nets in hand.
The altizar pawed at the ground and lowered her head as if in preparation to charge Farani.
“Salaam, makhbul dokhtarim,” Farani whispered in greeting as she took careful steps forward. Hello, beautiful girl.
Farani lifted her hand to warn the guards back.
They stopped uncertainly. I nodded, and they stilled their advance.
Farani drew closer to the altizar, her voice so soft I couldn’t make out her words.
The altizar stopped her pawing and watched Farani with curiosity.
Farani brushed her fingertips over the horse’s muzzle so she could catch her scent.
A rumble emitted from the altizar’s chest.
I pulled myself over the fence, approaching with caution.
Farani pressed her hand flat on the bridge of the horse’s nose.
Her mouth curved upward, her entire face brightening in that enamoring way.
I slowed my pace, capturing the moment to memory.
She stared at the horse’s wings. Most altizar had wings, but without the golden roots, they failed to grow to their full potential.
As a half-breed, Azarkhosh had two slight nodes at his sides, the possibility of wings that had never bloomed.
I stepped beside Farani. She was so focused I wondered if she even noticed me. But then she spoke.
“Zeki told me. You buried Barakat. You didn’t allow them to tear her to pieces.”
She searched my gaze. I cleared my throat, wondering why my bodyguard was giving her information I had clearly told him to keep under wraps.
“You never cease to surprise me, hamsaram,” I said, motioning to the altizar, who was rubbing her muzzle against Farani’s hand. “You’ve tamed the vicious beast that took me hours to capture.”
“She must have heard of your reputation,” she mused.
I opened my mouth to retort when I caught the teasing gleam in her eyes. She was jesting. She was jesting with me. Another point in my favor.
Her voice softened. “It’s because she doesn’t want to be captured. She wants acceptance, kindness, freedom.”
I sensed she wasn’t only speaking of the altizar. I recalled the way we had captured Farani. Made the prized princess of the South our prisoner and expected her to bow to our demands.
“What else does she desire?” The words escaped me before I thought them over.
Farani’s gaze flitted to me before she blurted, “To be treated with respect. You can’t manhandle her and expect obedience.”
I stepped even closer, close enough to smell the intoxicating aroma of roses that clung to her skin. “How, then, should I approach her?”
Farani’s hand left the altizar and dropped to my arm. My heart thumped a touch faster as she lifted my hand and brought it to the horse’s coat.
“Meet her eye, let her see you, and show her you aren’t afraid or angry. She can sense your emotions.”
She released my hand, and I stroked the altizar gently.
Farani petted her as well, and more than once, our hands bumped together.
She was careful to draw hers away, but I didn’t react, even as I wanted to grab her hand in mine and keep it there.
The altizar swiveled her neck and cast me a look of such suspicion; I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Farani smiled, so warm it seemed as if the sun had revealed itself.
Had her features always been so unique? The smile lines by her mouth called me to trace them.
But I had memorized her so entirely I was sure I could draw her blind.
Was this the same woman I had thought a plain Southerner all those weeks ago? When had she become so beautiful?
“What will you name her?” I said. “I may not be able to atone for what was done to Barakat, but I wish to at least give you a reason to smile in the torturous days you live tied to me.”
Her lips parted. Her eyes darted between mine and the altizar. “I thought you brought the altizar for your father.”
I shook my head. “She’s yours.”
The Bodyguard
We returned to Dayyan’s chamber in silence.
I knew he felt something for me. Whether this feeling had erupted because of my assistance for his sister or because of my continued presence in his life, I knew nothing could come of it.
My duty had been to end the lives of the Northern princes.
But it was impossible for me to kill Dayyan now.
I had seen too much of him and couldn’t bear to harm him to that extent.
But I wasn’t who he thought I was. And once I killed his brother and all was revealed, he would despise me, perhaps even hunt me down.
It was best to keep as much space between us as I could.
Then the pain when the inevitable separation came would be far less.
That was what I told myself as I lay back on the mattress, staring up at the intricate domed ceiling, my hands curled over my cramping stomach.
I flinched as another wave of pain lanced through my belly.
The cramps had started hours before. I had thought it to be my monthly visitor, but when I had checked, I had spotted no trace of blood.
I tossed and turned, hoping it would go away, but it only worsened, and the discomfort kept me wide awake.
I sat up and stared at the ground, making out Dayyan where he slept on his back, one hand tucked beneath his head and the other resting below his pillow.
I could not hold in my gasp as the sharp pain struck again, and I clutched my abdomen.
My hair fell over my shoulders like dark curtains.
Dayyan’s eyes flew open, and he shot up, his hand flying from under his pillow and returning with a blade clutched within his fist. His harried gaze focused on me.
“Farani?”
The agony grew worse. I attempted to conceal it, but an involuntary sob escaped.
Dayyan was on his feet in an instant, crossing the short distance to the bed.
He leaned over me, tucking my hair over my ears and cupping my cheeks in his calloused palms, cradling my face like it was the most delicate thing he’d ever seen.
Then his grip grew firmer, and he tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.
I was surprised by the amount of concern I found there.
“I am fine,” I repeated even as a tear betrayed me.
His eyes followed the tear’s traitorous trail over my cheek until it pooled between my clamped lips as I held in another cry. The torture ripping through my midsection was so intense it took everything in me to hold myself together. He brushed his thumb over my lips, erasing the tear.
“What did you eat last?”
It took too much effort to think about my last meal. His hands left my face, and he leaned forward and tucked an arm beneath my knees and back, hefting me up. He strode toward the door with determined purpose. My head fell back, angling in an odd position as darkness crept over my vision.
“Farani? Farani!”
My cousin’s name pounded against my ears with damning urgency. I blinked at the hazy face above me, making out panicked blue eyes.
“Stay with me!” the voice commanded. “Stay with me.”
I mumbled incoherently, fading into another realm.
The voice was persistent. “I do not give you permission to die. Live, Farani. Live for me.”
All thoughts evaporated save for one. I wanted my name to be called with such passion. I didn’t want to hear her name. It reminded me of her leaving me all alone after her promise that we would always stick together. It reminded me of her abandoning her duty, which reminded me of my duty. Duty.
I drifted into oblivion.