The Bodyguard
For a moment, I was immobile. I could only feel.
Feel his strong arm locked around my waist and his rough palm cupping my cheek.
Sense the air brushing over us, like phantom hands pushing us even closer together.
Then his hand slipped past my cheek, tilting my head to meet him better, and I awakened.
I placed my hands against his chest and shoved him away.
He staggered back. My heart thundered in my ears; my breath filled the cold air between us. My eyes were rooted to him.
“Why did you do that?”
His pupils nearly enveloped the blue of his irises as he watched me unregretfully. “That is what’s so torturous, Yildiz—being near you and being unable to touch you. Being near you and knowing you will never be mine, not truly.”
My chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. My lips burned as I recalled the feel of his. I waited for repulsion to take over me or for the thoughts of darkness. But none came. Instead, a strange warmth bloomed in my chest.
“It will not happen again.” With those words, Dayyan disappeared into the hall.
I remained on the balcony until my knees grew weak, pulling me to the floor. I touched trembling fingers to my lips. And finally allowed myself to smile.
The morning came swiftly, the desert heat stifling even in the fine palace halls.
I explored the chambers I had grown up in until I found myself in the library.
I pulled a book loose from the shelves and sank into the chair that had appeared massive to me as a child.
I glanced at the wall, staring at the portrait of a rigid man glowering down at me.
I tore my gaze away and focused on the book, thumbing through the pages and becoming engrossed in the story.
A throat cleared and I jumped, my book slipping from my hands and thudding onto the floor.
Dayyan leaned over, picking it up and dusting it off. He handed it to me. I felt shy, as though this were our first interaction. And it was—after what had happened on the balcony.
“Shahdokht Farani told me the library was available for me to examine the peace contract. If you do not mind?”
I opened my book. “Not at all. I will not even notice.”
He shifted, paused, and then the chair across from mine slid over the floor.
Dayyan settled into it and placed a sheet of parchment onto the low table between us.
I blinked, unable to focus on a single word on the page before me.
My eyes flitted over the top of the book.
He stroked his beard. I watched his hand, admiring his long fingers and recalling the feel of them against my face.
My eyes drifted upward, to the strands of dark hair hanging over his brow.
The mesmerizing glow of his eyes. He glanced up, and I looked down, my heart beating fast.
“Good book?”
I slowly raised my head, as though I needed to tear my attention from the words, and nodded, forcing a smile.
“You need to teach me your secret.”
My brows drew together. “What secret?”
“On how you read books upside down.”
He smirked, and my jaw dropped open. I cleared my throat and righted the book.
“How far have you gotten?”
“You’ve read this?”
“Just because I present like a cold ruthless killer does not mean I don’t occasionally enjoy a romance.”
“I just passed the part where Leyla left the cruel lord.”
“Ah.”
“He deceived her into remaining for so long. It is good she escaped and saved herself.”
Dayyan quirked a brow. “She ate the dates of her own accord.”
“She didn’t know he would consider that stealing and force her to stay for three months in exchange for three simple dates.”
“But she knew the grounds were private property. In exchange for the theft, she agreed to remain and then broke her word.”
“He was a monster.”
Dayyan flinched. “But a man of his word.”
I held his gaze for a moment. “And now he’s going after her. Why doesn’t he allow her freedom?”
“Because he’s been waiting for centuries to find the one who doesn’t cower at his hideousness. Who doesn’t run at the sight of his scars. Who accepts him as he is.”
This tale reminded me of the one I had spun for Delara and Omid back in the Northern palace. Did she ever return his love? Dayyan had said then. Did she ever love the beast?
I changed the conversation. “My father.”
Dayyan followed my gaze to the portrait of the rigid man.
“They painted him without feeling, when he was the warmest man I’ve ever known.” A pang hit my chest. “But if I could, I would take even this portrait with me so I could remember him forever. So his features wouldn’t ever leave me.”
A hollowness filled Dayyan’s eyes the longer he stared at the portrait. A throat cleared, and we glanced toward the door. Bahir stood in the threshold, glaring at Dayyan.
“Biyoder, we must speak.”
Dayyan nodded at me before following Bahir into the hall. Curiosity pulled me after them. They entered another chamber at the end of the corridor. Bahir’s agitation became clear the closer I came.
“Why do you insist on this peace?” Bahir was saying. “We have the upper hand. We can crush them easily and the desert will fully belong to the North.”
“I am tired of this bloodshed, biyoder.”
“We are so close to claiming everything. They cannot stop us with this pitiful attempt at peace. Peder would not approve.”
“Peder doesn’t approve of anything. This is a choice we can make. A chance to stop this war.”
“What’s happened to you?” Bahir hissed. “You pledged your loyalty to me!” His voice rose. “You promised to abide by my orders.”
Dayyan remained silent as breaths of stillness passed between them. I could picture them. Bahir, with his angry icy gaze burning into his brother. Dayyan, with his stony exterior, refusing to relent.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Bahir spat. “Ever since that Southern whore arrived, you’ve been different.”
“My wife,” Dayyan said in a lethal whisper, “has no place on your tongue.”
The door creaked open, giving me a glimpse of their tense forms angled toward each other.
“You have changed, Dayyan. You are not the brother I knew.” Bahir shook his head, disgust contorting his voice.
“And so what if I’ve changed?” Dayyan blurted. “For the first time in years, I feel alive. Because of her, I can breathe. Breathe without living guilt every moment. You are only sorry you’ve lost your mute executioner.”
My heart pumped in my ears. I sank against the wall at Dayyan’s admission.
“You think I give a damn?” Bahir scowled. “The only one losing anything is you. You will lose the support of our people if you side with the Southerners.”
“I do not care if the whole world is against me. I can walk without them. But I will not lose her.”
Dayyan strode past him, heading toward the door and leaving Bahir sputtering. I ducked away, hiding in an alcove in the corridor as Dayyan emerged, where I pressed a hand to my burning chest.
I will not lose her.