The Bodyguard
It was a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. And yet there stood my cousin, beautiful as always with her wide brown eyes, porcelain skin, and graceful build. Her mouth formed a smirk as the silence progressed and she stared at us. I blinked once, twice, but she didn’t fade.
“Who allowed this woman inside?” Shah Jihangir demanded.
The door guard stammered and stepped forward. “My apologies, my shah. I attempted to hold her back, but she insisted she had a matter of great importance.”
Farani came closer, holding her open palms upward. “My guards are in the hall. I left them behind and came unarmed. You are searching for the golden roots.” She paused. “I can lead you to them.”
Shah Jihangir’s mouth closed, his protests dying as greed lit his gaze. I stared numbly at Farani. What was she doing? Why had she come? I’d sacrificed everything for her. Because she’d left. Because she’d abandoned her duty.
Shah Jihangir blinked, doubt falling over his face. “And why should I believe you? Who are you?”
Farani’s gaze slid to mine. I shook my head, wordlessly begging her not to reveal anything. Her eyes flicked to Dayyan’s hand, still holding my cheek, and narrowed. She pulled her shoulders back.
“I am the daughter of Sultan Kasim of the South. I am Shahdokht Farani.”
The room went stock-still. Or perhaps it was solely me who turned to stone. My lids drifted closed as whispers and gasps fluttered about the onlookers.
Dayyan rumbled. “You are nothing but an imposter. How dare you impersonate my wife?”
But there was a tremor in his voice. I opened my eyes to see him fixing Farani with a glare that should have sent her scurrying away. She merely shrugged, still smiling.
“The woman at your side is my bodyguard. Everything she does is to protect me. But I am here now.”
Tears filled my eyes. I had thought our connection to be greater than this.
Blood was thicker than water, after all.
But here she was, discarding me. Dayyan’s face, normally so expressionless, was covered in obvious denial.
He stepped closer to me, so close he was the only thing I could see.
He cupped my face in shaking hands and lifted so our eyes met.
“She is an imposter, isn’t she? Give me one word, Farani, and I will have her cast out.
” He searched my gaze, his eyes following the tear that coated the edge of my lashes and slipped down my cheek.
He swallowed, leaning down to press his forehead to mine.
“Please,” he begged, “please tell me she is lying.”
My heart broke at his clear desperation, and the utter pain ravaged my chest. I couldn’t say what he wanted.
I couldn’t refute her claims. My chin trembled, and I shook my head.
His blue eyes filled with a glossy sheen, and realization followed a moment after.
Then he blinked, clearing away all emotions.
Shutting me off. His hands dropped, leaving me so cold as he stepped away.
I could only read one emotion now: disgust.
Hurt clawed through me. And yet I knew he had every right to be revolted and devastated.
“Take the lying wretch to the dungeons.”
The shah’s command sent the guards into motion. Boots echoed, marching toward me, but I couldn’t look away from Dayyan. My tears continued to fall, turning him into a blurry form. It no longer mattered. Whatever had been blooming between us was torn from the revelation. Hands reached for me.
A shamshir slid free, and I was wrenched back. Just like my wedding day, Dayyan stood against my aggressors, wielding his sharp blade. The guards stilled, glancing at the shah.
“You foolish boy!” Shah Jihangir cried out. “The girl deceived us, and still you protect her.”
“I married her, whoever she is, and I will protect her to my dying breath. If you want to kill her, you must step over my corpse.”
I couldn’t believe he was still defending me, still protecting me despite my betrayal.
“If I hear someone has touched even a strand of her hair, I will destroy them.”
Silence met his words. His vise grip around my wrist tightened as he spun around and strode from the room, pulling me along.
He didn’t spare Farani a glance as we passed her.
He dragged me forward at a bruising pace.
Anger spilled from his tense posture and blank expression.
He thrust our chamber door open and heaved me inside.
I stumbled into the room, my heart pounding.
The door slammed closed, and Dayyan slid the lock into place.
He rested his forehead on the wood, and his perfect posture crumbled then.
He tore his turban off and his shamshir slipped from his fingers and landed at his feet.
I crumpled by the bed, fisting the fabric of my dress as silent tears trailed down my cheeks.
When he pulled away from the door, he whirled toward me and grabbed my arms, heaving me up.
“Was it real?” he asked. “Was any of it real?”
I met his icy blue eyes. The pain in them nearly undid me. When I didn’t speak, he released me and backed away. He ran a hand through his hair and inhaled a shaky breath. A moment later, he left the room, leaving me in silence. My sobs doubled.
I couldn’t remember a life without him, and I couldn’t imagine a future without him in it.
Was any of it real?
“Yes,” I sobbed. “Yes.”