The Bodyguard
Someone’s arms slid beneath me and hefted me up. With fluttering eyes, I faintly realized I was being taken back to my chamber. Our chamber. I glanced up at the underside of Dayyan’s bearded chin. I had the sudden urge to poke him there, to see if he was ticklish. I laughed to myself.
“I didn’t mean to awaken you.”
I shifted in his arms. “You can put me down.”
“Why should you walk when I’m here, hamsaram?” His tone was warm.
“Maybe I don’t want my husband to get tired and fall down.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps worry again in a few decades.”
My mouth dropped at his impudence. “Are you implying I will grow too heavy for you to carry?”
And yet what struck me was his insinuation that we would remain together for that long. My heart bloomed with something I didn’t dare call hope.
He glanced down again. “You seem to enjoy honeyed desserts.” His eyes flared as he scanned my features, lingering on my lips. I wondered if he was thinking of the first meal we’d fed each other.
He set me on my feet when we entered the chamber.
After performing ablution, we prayed the night prayer, a peaceful air surrounding us.
After we finished, Dayyan set up his spot on the floor.
Guilt crashed into me. I settled onto the bed and leaned back against the pillows, debating with myself. He approached to grab his blanket.
“Dayyan,” I said.
He froze, then moved toward me, meeting my eyes, reading the words I couldn’t say out loud. He settled beside me while maintaining a careful distance. I placed a pillow between us to lessen the tension before leaning over and blowing out the candle.
“Good night,” he rumbled.
“Good night,” I murmured, closing my eyes with the whisper of a smile curving my lips.
The Prince
I didn’t sleep a wink. That infuriating rosy scent drifted to me with every movement Farani made. I squeezed my lids closed, but to no avail. Because even when I couldn’t see her, she remained in my thoughts.
Light eventually bloomed through the window, cascading onto me and burning my lurking sleepiness away.
I shifted, preparing to rise, when a hand slapped against my chest. I froze, certain my heart had stopped.
I looked down as the rest of Farani’s form followed her hand and rolled over, burrowing into my side.
The pillow she’d placed between us had disappeared through the night.
She inhaled and pressed her face into my shoulder.
I swallowed, unmoving, unsure how to proceed and afraid to break this temporary heaven.
I couldn’t resist reaching out. My fingers tugged through the silky strands of her locks.
I feared I was growing addicted to the shahdokht of the South.
She shifted, her lashes fluttering. I shut my eyes in time and heard her gasp a moment later.
She didn’t launch away like I had expected.
Instead, she remained still, as if her breath had lodged in her throat.
Her fingers burned through my shirt, and her stare pierced my face until I couldn’t bear the silence any longer.
“Like what you see, Shahdokht?” I said without opening my eyes.
She gasped and tried to scramble away. In her haste, she forgot about the blankets twisted around her and collapsed on top of me. Her elbow rammed into my ribs. I groaned, my eyes popping open.
Apologies dripped from her mouth as she quickly lifted herself. She even patted my stomach as if it would soften the pain. Laughter burst from my chest. It had been so long since I’d laughed like this. It felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from me.
Farani watched me with wide eyes, her lips beginning to draw up, but when my laughter finally died off, she ducked her head, appearing uncomfortable with my gaze.
A curtain of black hair shielded her from view.
I reached out, turning her chin toward me.
She blinked, a sweet innocent look so different from her normal anger.
But no matter what expression she wore, she was stunning.
“You are so beautiful.” The words slipped out without my intention, but I didn’t regret them.
Her eyes widened the slightest bit. Then panic entered them. She attempted to turn away, but I reached past her chin and cheekbone, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Beauty fades,” she said. “Eventually, I will be an old woman with gray hair and wrinkles and too heavy for you to carry.”
I chuckled at the private joke. “I will never tire of looking at you. In fact, you will only grow dearer to me. Your so-called wrinkles will enchant me. I will be honored to grow old at your side.”
The door swung open. Farani’s maid, Esana, came through holding a folded cloth. She stumbled to a halt at the sight of us. Farani created distance between us, but I reached out, wrapping my fingers around her arm so she couldn’t escape.
“Shahzadem.” Esana looked down. “I apologize. I didn’t know. I thought you had gone out already.”
I glared at her. “You will learn to knock on chamber doors. And if there is no answer, you will leave. Do you understand?”
She nodded profusely before she darted back to the door, eyes still glued to the floor.
“Dayyan,” Farani muttered. “She is following orders.”
“We were in the middle of something,” I said, not bothering to lower my voice.
Farani blushed, a deep scarlet coating her warm skin.
“Forgive me, shahzadem,” Esana mumbled and closed the door behind her.
I dropped my hand, and Farani stood from the bed, her cheeks still tinged red.
“We will go out to the city today.”
Farani walked to her vanity. “What is the occasion?”
“My father wishes you to be further acquainted with the people.”
Shah Jihangir, in truth, wished for her to see the poverty and suffering of the people.
He was hoping this would strike her heart and encourage her to give up the location of the golden roots.
There was no other way he could extract it from her, unless he wished to kill me first. I crossed to my side of the chamber and dressed in silence, garbing myself in black robes over dark trousers.
I wrapped my turban around my head and tucked errant strands of my hair into it, then sheathed my shamshir and knives.
I glanced across the room, where Farani was changing behind a large screen.
I could make out her silhouette. I averted my gaze, recalling the promise I’d made to her.
Until you are ready, I will not touch you.
She had trusted me enough to tell me about her past. If it was the last thing I did, I would find that sick perverted bastard who’d harmed her and slice his throat open—after brutal torture.
“Dayyan?”
She was staring at my hand, a worried line marking the place between her brows. I followed her gaze, noting the whiteness of my knuckles clenched tightly around my shamshir hilt. I released my hold and focused on her.
She wore dark indigo robes with draping sleeves that hung to the floor and a decorative belt fastened at her waist. Her hair was braided into a long thick plait, which she was now pulling her chadar over.
Something warm swept through me every time she said my name.
On anyone else’s tongue, it sounded dry and tasteless.
On hers, it was magic. I could be the jinn in the old tales, and with one whisper of my name, I was at her beck and call.
She tucked the scarf over her nose. Her dark almond eyes stared up at me. “Shall we go?”
I nodded and then noticed her belt was empty.
I held out a hand, stopping her mid-step.
There, on the edge of the vanity, was what I was searching for.
I crossed the distance, retrieving the dagger, and approached her.
She eyed the weapon with wariness. I grabbed her belt, inadvertently tugging her closer as I slipped the dagger through it.
“I’m surprised you would trust me with that.” Her gaze was pinned to my shoulder. The wound had healed, but it would scar.
“Next time you wield it against an aggressor, aim a few more inches to the left and you won’t miss.”
Her captivating eyes widened. I held my grin. Advising her to strike someone in the heart probably wasn’t what she had expected to hear.
We exited the palace and walked down the set of stairs to the courtyard, where my horse and a palanquin for Farani awaited. She examined it and the guards waiting to carry her before turning to me and speaking in a low voice.
“I will not travel on that.”
The jawahar were often taken around in palanquins to show off their status. My mother and Malikeh Madar Sanaz often took advantage of it and hardly left palace grounds without one.
“If it is the comfort you doubt, I can call for another one.”
She shook her head. “I will not burden them. I’m not any better than them to have them carry me.”
“That is their job, Farani.” I searched her gaze. “They do this all the time. Besides, it’s for your protection.”
Flint sparked in her gaze. “I have legs that are perfectly capable of walking.”
She started forward, straight past the palanquin. I stood at a loss for words and then started after her, leaving the surprised guards and stable boy holding Azarkhosh’s lead rope behind.
I caught up to Farani, noting her brisk pace and her hands fisted at her sides, that telltale spark in her eyes. It would only be a few moments before she let it out. One, two . . .
She spun toward me and I concealed my smile.
“You don’t understand what it’s like for them. You have always had wealth and no worry about your next meal. Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be in their shoes?”
“And you know what it’s like, Shahdokht?”
She faltered. “Even if I have not experienced what they have, I have eyes to see their torment. They work hard to provide for their families and already carry the burden of surviving. I won’t add to that load.”
I searched her features. She reminded me of my uncle—of the little I had seen and heard of him. He’d spoken out against the cruelty and brutal actions of the North. He’d advocated for those who couldn’t speak up. And he’d ended up dead.
I stepped closer to Farani.
“You have a large heart, hamsaram,” I said softly. “And large hearts get crushed. We may be royals, but we also must play the game to survive.”
She glowered. I took her arm in a gentle grip and guided her forward, pressing her on before she could continue to combat me. During my haste to catch up to Farani, I hadn’t even noticed we’d entered the city.
The people living closest to the palace were the wealthy. They saluted, bowing their heads as we passed. Their homes were large and guarded. Carts and litters for them were taken everywhere. People peered at us and murmured as we continued on foot.
I didn’t relent my brutal pace until we reached the poorer section, as per Shah Jihangir’s orders. The air here was different. The homes were tiny one-room hovels that housed entire families. The people were dressed in far more casual clothes, some even in rags. Dust coated their faces.
Farani caught sight of a crowded group. “What is happening?”
I peered over the heads, and people took notice of us. Whispers spread through those gathered. A young boy crashed into me, spilling milk over my trousers. A gasp rang around. The boy scrambled back and tripped, staring up at me with wide fearful eyes.