The Prince
My father had summoned me to the meeting.
I walked down the corridor. My strength seeped out of me.
I placed my hand on the wall, stopping to inhale, to fill my thoughts with other things.
With everything but her. She’d betrayed me.
She’d lied to me. My hand formed a fist that I scraped from the wall.
I ignored the burning in my knuckles and entered the council room.
Only Wazir Elmas, Bahir, my father, and the .
. . woman were present. Their conversation stilled at my appearance.
I sat in one of the many empty chairs several seats away from the rest of them, disgusted to even attend this.
The woman—the true princess of the South—raked her gaze over me.
She was beautiful, the type of beauty you noticed at once and that held you enchanted.
But something sinister lurked beneath it, something you wouldn’t see until you broke through her spell.
Not like her . . . Her beauty grew brighter with time; it crept over you until you suddenly saw how much she’d changed you.
I cast thoughts of her aside, angry I had allowed her back into my mind.
She was a traitor. My hands fisted beneath the table.
“Ah, Dayyan has come,” my father said. “Now we may proceed.”
Bahir snickered, leaning forward to peer down at me. “You didn’t even marry the shahdokht. What a shame. You bedded a common servant.”
My jaw tensed, and anger thrummed beneath my skin. I was a second from thrashing him onto the table.
“Bahir,” Shah Jihangir said. Though his voice was stern, his eyes carried the same gleam Bahir’s did.
“I would appreciate you not referring to my bodyguard in so crass a way,” the woman, Shahdokht Farani, said, her speech like silk.
“She did everything to protect me. There were specific reasons I could not be there in time to fulfill my duty as a bride. But I am here now, and we can rectify this wrong.”
I scoffed, shaking my head.
Wazir Elmas waved his hands. “It will be a simple matter to resolve this. None but a few servants and guards knew the truth.”
My eyes shot to my father. Knew the truth. As in past tense. I wasn’t surprised Shah Jihangir had already slaughtered all witnesses that had been present when the Southern princess had arrived. How many times had he used me to do so?
“We will simply marry Shahzadeh Dayyan with the true Shahdokht Farani in a small ceremony without the civilians knowing. They will never be aware of what occurred here.”
Bahir chuckled. “So, you are suggesting we all continue as though nothing has happened?”
Shah Jihangir nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”
“And your bodyguard?” Bahir asked. “Shall we have Dayyan do away with her?”
My head spun toward him, and he laughed at my angered expression. Shah Jihangir moved to speak, but the shahdokht placed a hand on his arm. My father stilled, glancing down at her long fingers. His mouth closed, and she smiled.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed the strange air between them. Wazir Elmas watched them carefully, a pinch in his brows.
“She will remain as my handmaiden and protector. The job she has always done.”
The words blared in my mind. Seeing her every day, within reach and yet unable to hold.
Longing for her and detesting her with every breath would be a torture worse than all I had endured.
My father and Wazir Elmas were nodding, Bahir adding comments every so often with a smirk that told me how much he was enjoying discussing my future.
I stood, my chair screeching back, and slammed my fist onto the table.
“No.”
The word was short and brutal and gave my opinion quite effectively.
“I will not be a pawn in this.”
I didn’t wait for a response and stormed from the council room, heading up to the tower—the highest in the palace, where I could scream as loud as I wanted and the air stole it and sealed it within the clouds, leaving all ears but mine untouched.
But this time, my throat was sealed. My heart was empty.
I had no voice remaining to shout my pain.
Steps echoed from the staircase as someone entered the tower.
I stiffened at the interruption of my solitude.
“I knew I would find you here.” At the familiar voice, the tension eased out of me.
“She lied to me, Zeki,” I whispered. “She wasn’t the princess.”
Silence elapsed until finally Zeki answered, “I am sorry.”
I turned, and our eyes locked. Zeki’s remorseful gaze lowered, and he stared at the ground, his shoulders sinking under what I guessed to be the burden of carrying the truth.
“You knew.” The words were accusing.
Zeki’s head remained lowered, and he didn’t deny it.
Anger overtook me. How could Zeki have concealed the truth from me?
I recalled how he had stared at her on our journey to the palace.
He’d known she wasn’t the princess even then, but he’d chosen to be silent.
He wanted to protect her, I realized. Perhaps he even knew her. Perhaps she’d confided in him.
“Get out of my sight.”
The words emerged with a bite colder than the night air. I couldn’t help the harshness. Zeki bowed his head and retreated down the steps, leaving me alone with nothing but the company of my loathing.