The Bodyguard
I was buried beneath the sand, sinking farther and farther.
The sand grains dissolved into water that was deepest shade of blue.
My breath caught as I was startled by the beauty, more water than I had ever seen in my life.
Then a slow sort of horror spread over me.
I didn’t know how to swim. My face pivoted upward; my arms and legs fought the waves.
I couldn’t breathe. A hand broke the surface and reached toward me.
I blinked, the view above growing hazy. Fingers wrapped around my forearm.
Then I was hauled up through the water. I heaved grateful breaths of precious air. I glanced at my rescuer.
“Peder,” I whispered. My face was wet, both with water and tears. “Peder, get me out of here.”
He stroked my cheeks and sopping hair before helping me stand.
I scanned the sparkling river and froze when I caught sight of the figures watching us from the opposite side: Shah Jihangir with his cruelly carved features and imposing presence.
Bahir stood at his side, somehow managing to look down on me, even from the distance.
My gaze slid to the left. There he was. Dayyan moved past his brother and father, standing before them, his eyes seeking me out.
I spun toward my father, shaking my head.
“Do not let me go,” I pleaded.
His honey-brown eyes softened, and he slowly dragged my hand from his arm. He placed his fingers between my shoulders and urged me forward. My bare feet scraped across the sand.
“Move, little one,” he said. “Keep going, sitarem.”
A bridge appeared as if by magic, allowing us passage over the river. My heart thundered. Dayyan’s arm lifted, his hand suspended in the air, palm extended.
“Come, Yildiz,” he said.
I stilled at the sound of my true name crossing his lips.
I stared at his calloused palm, uncertainty anchoring me to the edge of the bridge.
My father took my hand and placed it into Dayyan’s, giving him a look only the two of them understood.
Dayyan nodded and tugged me to his side.
Panic woke within me, and I reached for my father, but Dayyan’s arm wrapped around my waist, holding me back.
“Peder!” I called. “Don’t leave.”
“My sweet girl,” my father said tenderly as he stepped back. “Do not seek those who have gone. Look ahead. That’s where you will go.” He glanced at Dayyan. “Take care of my little star.”
My father walked away, disappearing into the distance. Only when he’d faded did Dayyan release me. I dropped to my knees.
“Peder!”
My fingers were fisted around the bedsheets.
The room sank into view. Dayyan’s chamber.
I inhaled deeply, hoping to quell the fear the dream had wrought.
Other than sparse flickering candles, darkness bathed the room.
I felt eyes on me, and through my sleepy gaze, I made out the form of Malikeh Madar Morvarid sitting in a chair beside the bed.
I scrambled up, tangled in the sheets. Morvarid stood, peering down at me.
Esana lurked behind her, giving me an apologetic look.
“You seem recovered enough.” The queen mother walked toward my vanity. “The pains usually relent after a day.” She touched my brush and then fingered the vials of oil and perfume.
I was uneasy watching her prove her dominance by putting her hands over all my things.
“You may have heard of my son’s demand.” She spun. “You will not take the monthly tests any longer.”
I met her gaze, unsure if she expected gratitude in return.
A moment of silence elapsed. A smile pulled at my mouth at the recollection of Bazmara rushing into the healing quarters.
She’d nearly squealed as she told me how Dayyan had marched into their mother’s chambers and berated her.
Warmth had burned my chest at Dayyan’s defense.
But then, that sense of shame always followed.
Dayyan believed me to be Farani. I’d not thought I would regret misleading him, but my inner conscience waged a war every time he called me by my false name.
“But these things do not work so easily. A price must be paid for such a break in the palace rules.” Her inquisitive eyes landed on the blanket and pillow resting on the toshak and narrowed. “I want to ensure you are making a fruitful effort to secure Dayyan with an heir.”
Esana looked down, her face red as the queen mother continued.
“From this moment on, if you wish to be spared the monthly test, not a second will be wasted. This room will be decorated, and you will wear the most alluring clothes. I expect you to be with child before one of Bahir’s jawahar are.
Do not squander my generosity. Esana will see to assisting you and guaranteeing you do as ordered. ”
The queen mother walked to the toshak and gathered Dayyan’s sleep essentials and deposited them onto the bed. “Do not leave such a mess about.”
Then she left without a backward glance.
Esana lowered her head. “I have no choice but to obey her.”
“I understand,” I replied. “It seems the malikeh madar will punish me if I do not grant her a grandchild.”
“She has been longing for one for years. There are rumors in the palace that Shahzadeh Bahir is infertile since none of his jawahar have become with child.” Esana leaned closer.
“But if you ask me, Mahnaz is the infertile one. I hear from some maids that she has tasked them with giving specific tonics to jawahar who spend the night with Shahzadeh Bahir. In my opinion, she is trying to prevent any heirs that aren’t hers. ”
I shook my head, entirely fed up with the harem intrigue.
I glanced about the chamber, taking in the décor Esana and some other maids had set up.
They’d fashioned a romantic setting, with candles and a table filled with dates, sweets, and sherbet.
The dim light created a passionate undertone.
A swarm of butterflies fluttered in my middle, and uncertainty clung to me.
I wondered what Dayyan’s reaction would be to seeing his room so changed.
He would think I had wanted this. As soon as he entered, I would tell him of his mother’s order, and he would understand.
Esana lit the last candle and gave me a sympathetic smile before she retreated from the chamber.
I squeezed my hands together, growing tenser as each minute passed.
I rehearsed the lines I would tell Dayyan.
His eventual knock made me jump. The door creaked open.
I looked up through the vanity mirror, seeing his large form filling the doorway.
He didn’t enter but stood entirely still as his eyes darted around the chamber. I spun around.
“Dayyan, I will explain—” My words died in my throat as his attention snapped to me.
His jaw slackened while his eyes roamed over me from the top of my head to my slippers. His lips parted, and he grasped the doorframe as if he’d suddenly become unbalanced.
Esana had delivered the nightdress, along with others that had been commissioned for me by the malikeh madar.
I’d put it on earlier in case the queen mother paid a visit.
The dress was glittering gold; the sleeves hung from my shoulders like breathless wings.
The waist was fitted and studded with jewels.
The fabric at my shoulders was clipped together for easy removal.
Dayyan swallowed and took a step into the chamber and then another, unblinking. His evident admiration brought something within me to life. But I knew this admiration would dissolve as soon as I told him this was all his mother’s plot.
I suddenly had an insane thought. What if I didn’t tell him?
What if I went along with it? My hands shook, and I hid them behind me.
Dayyan closed the door without looking away from me, the lock clicking shut as it had when he’d brought me to his chamber after our wedding.
But this time, it wasn’t ominous, and it didn’t fill me with the fear it had then.
“Explain what?” His words sounded forced and thick.
He stopped in front of me, his gaze caressing my face, touching everything: the powder on my cheeks, the kohl lining my eyes, the red staining my lips. His hand lifted so slowly and brushed over my face.
“Explain what, Farani?”
That name. That cursed name snapped me to my senses.
I pulled away from him and moved toward the table.
He followed me, his gaze intent and focused.
We sat beside each other, his eyes never leaving me and mine darting toward him and then down to my clenched fists.
I couldn’t stand the silence and reached for the jug of sherbet.
The crimson liquid sparkled in the dim light.
I poured it into the two cups before us and downed mine.
The flavorful drink eased my dry throat.
I refilled my cup and smoothed my hands over my dress to conceal their shaking.
Dayyan leaned in, his arm brushing mine.
My lashes fluttered closed as his scent filled my senses.
He bypassed his cup and took mine, rotating it, his eyes fixed on the red stain my lips had made.
He brought it to his mouth, drinking from the same spot.
His eyes locked with mine. I averted my gaze, my insides twisting.
He returned the cup to the table with a plink and shifted closer to me.
The cushions rustled. My breathing grew harsher, my chest rising and falling faster.
His breath grazed my neck. Warmth cascaded through my skin.
I froze, my fingers digging into the cushion beside me.
His hand wound around my braid. He undid the band at the bottom and ran his fingers through my locks until they spilled around my shoulders.
His breath caught. A tear slid from my eye.
I could not do this. The image of the man hovering over me didn’t fade.
I had been so young, so unaware, so scarred. I hadn’t healed enough to move past it.