The Bodyguard
When we entered the village, dozens of people rushed toward us, exclaiming at the sight of the young woman.
We soon discovered she was the village elder’s daughter.
They fawned over us, especially Dayyan and my altizar.
He continued speaking for all of us, and I continued pretending I didn’t know what they were saying.
“Shahzadeh Dayyan, it is a pleasure,” the village elder said, bowing his head in respect. “Please, stay the night in our humble dwelling.”
“The pleasure is ours,” Dayyan replied. “We would be grateful.”
“How many rooms do you need?”
“Two rooms for the guards. One for my brother, Bahir.”
Bahir was glaring when all eyes shifted to him. Then he cleared his expression, pleased to finally be receiving attention.
“The lady will have her own.” He motioned to Farani.
The village elder nodded at each introduction, and the villagers scrambled about to organize the rooms for us. Dayyan briefly glanced at me, and I wondered what he would say.
“And my . . . wife.”
My head snapped up. The young woman’s face sank. Her eyes darted between us.
“A fine room for her as well. She should be comfortable.”
The village elder hummed in approval. “It shall be done.”
An old woman clucked behind her scarf. “Your bride is even prettier than we’ve heard.”
I almost raised my brow before recalling that I was pretending to be unaware. Dayyan’s eyes settled on me, and his lips tilted up in a gentle smile.
“That she is.”
My heart jumped. He tore his gaze away and began speaking to the elder again.
A short time later, I took the altizar to the village stables.
I brushed through her thick mane, enjoying the soft breeze dampening the heat of the desert.
The cooking fires were situated under the shade and a delicious aroma drifted about. My stomach rumbled in response.
Dayyan and the young village woman passed by the open stables.
I ducked closer to the altizar, but there was no need.
They didn’t notice my presence at all. They stopped by a small hut across from the stables.
He held out his hand as though protesting before relenting.
The woman rolled up his sleeve and dabbed at the dried blood, tending to his wound.
I turned away, gritting my teeth. Their conversation drifted to me, and I couldn’t help glancing over every so often.
The young woman was staring at him with moony eyes.
“What a magnificent creature!”
I jumped, clasping my hands over my chest. “You scared the life out of me.”
My brother laughed. “Apologies. It seems you were distracted.”
Eskender glanced over my head, and I turned, following his gaze. The woman was still tending to him, but Dayyan was no longer looking at her. He was staring directly at us. I refocused on my horse, knowing Dayyan could hear us clearly.
“What’s her name?” Eskender asked, pointing at the altizar.
I hesitated and then said, “Wahe.”
“A fine name.”
Eskender nodded in approval, and Dayyan’s stare burned into me. I refused to look at him and give him the satisfaction of knowing he was the reason I had chosen that name.
Oasis.
The walls of the room closed in. It was too dark and stifling, not a single form of light around.
There was no fierce warrior with a dagger beneath his pillow to calm my erratic pulse.
I emerged from the room and the starry night greeted me.
Other than the solitary villagers on night watch, I was alone staring up at the twinkling sky until my ears perked at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Two giggling women appeared walking toward the rooms.
“Are you truly going to do this?” one said. “The man is married.”
My eyes adjusted, and I made out their faces, recognizing the smirking village elder’s daughter. She held a tray in her arms.
“He must be dying for company. His wife is so plain and boring. Did you see her?” She shuddered. “If I impress him enough, he may order me to join the harem. This is my chance to leave the village. To finally live in comfort.”
I couldn’t believe her brazen courage. I walked toward them as they neared Dayyan’s door. I cut before them and they startled. The village elder’s daughter attempted a smile and pointed toward my room, gesturing for me to return there. I didn’t move.
“Take her,” she hissed at her friend. “The dumb girl doesn’t know our language.”
She somehow maintained her smile at me throughout those words.
“This is for my husband?” I said in their dialect.
They froze, shock and fear tangling together. I offered a fake smile of my own and snatched the tray from her stiff hands.
“I can handle it.”
They remained statues as I spun away, throwing open Dayyan’s door, then shutting it in their faces.
“Yildiz?” Alarm coated his voice.
I turned and let out a half shriek, covering my eyes and barely holding on to the tray with one hand.
There was a scramble of motion, and cloth shifted as he dressed.
I whirled back to the door, my heart beating fast. I lowered my gaze to the tray, noting the assortment of medicine and bandages.
Despite my attempt to place my focus elsewhere, I couldn’t erase the image of bare toned skin.
And it pressed to the very forefront of my mind when he stepped closer, his large presence looming behind me.
“Why are you here?”
I kept my back to him. “I am sorry to disturb you. You were expecting company.”
“What?” His voice was incredulous.
“The girl you rescued today was coming to visit.”
He pressed closer, his chest grazing the back of my chadar.
“Why would she be coming this late?”
“She must have felt welcome,” I replied.
“Welcome? And how did you know? Were you watching my door?”
“And if I was? That your door needs watching is a problem in itself.”
“I am a shahzadeh, Yildiz. Or have you forgotten? My door always needs to be watched.” His fingers drifted over my arm, and his warmth seared through the fabric of my sleeve. “I have nothing to do with that girl.”
“Whatever you say, Shahzadeh.”
“You are jealous.”
The words pounded into me. They were a truth I could never admit to.
“Hardly.”
He tugged me to face him. My lids lowered on instinct. His soft laugh brushed my face. “I’m decent.”
I peeked one eye open and then the other.
His undershirt hung loose without his robes to bind it to him.
It was open at the neck, forming a V down the front of his torso and exposing the bronze skin of his upper chest. His sleeves were rolled up past his muscular forearms, leaving the gash he’d suffered at the hands of the mardie wahshi in full view.
I set the tray down on the wooden table beside the door.
Dayyan’s eyes followed me as I dabbed the medicinal liquid onto a cloth.
“And if that girl had come in here, batted her lashes, and gone to tend your wound, you would have turned her away?” I couldn’t help asking.
“If anyone besides you had burst inside, I would have tossed them out.” He said the words so seriously, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You would toss her out? And what of earlier today? You happily allowed her to do it then.”
“Then was different. I was in the open with plenty of witnesses. I didn’t want to offend the villagers after their show of generosity.”
I pressed the cloth to his skin, ignoring his hiss, and continued prodding without remorse.
“My bedchamber is far more private.”
I glanced up, meeting his insinuating gaze. A blush flooded my cheeks as I recalled his state of undress when I had burst in. I scrambled to change the topic of conversation.
“You knew him. Shahzadeh Kahraman. Or you saw him.”
His features shuttered.
“Please,” I urged. “I thought he’d been slain in battle. I must know—is he alive?”
His throat bobbed. “He was taken prisoner. My father had him in a cage for years. I didn’t know until recently.”
My fingers felt numb. I pictured my father, the strongest warrior I had ever seen, weakened and frail behind bars. Those warm brown eyes driven to insanity from years of imprisonment.
“Is he alive?”
Dayyan hesitated, then shook his head. My heart sank, and my hopes burned to ashes.
“How did he—” I swallowed the word I couldn’t speak aloud.
“My father had him executed.” Dayyan’s eyes flicked away. He was concealing something. “He asked me to look out for you. In his last words, he spoke only of you.”
A tear escaped my lower lashes.
“I promised I would protect you. When we finish the takeover of the South, I will ensure you are not harmed. But that is the most I can do. Keep you alive.”
I wiped the tear and reached for the ointment, slathering it over his skin.
“Do you not see? Even if I wanted to make it work between us,” Dayyan said, “even if there weren’t other obstacles, our bloodlines, our lands, will always stand between us.”
“Other obstacles?”
“You called me to account about the village girl,” he said, stiffening. “What of you and Zeki?”
I prodded the cloth deeper and he tensed. His hand shot out, wrapping over mine.
“I gave you the chance to go to the South, to create a new life away from me and everything I represent. But you came after me. Why?” He leaned closer. “You have returned to me as my wife, and yet you love another. I cannot stand idly and watch another man take what is mine.”
I tied the long cloth around his arm tighter than necessary.
What is mine. I released him and looked up at him.
“And what is yours, Shahzadeh Dayyan?”
His focus roamed over my face, but he didn’t answer.