The Prince
I stiffened, shifting Yildiz behind me. But it was futile. I could not protect her from the shamshirs pointing at us from every direction. I glared at Mustafa, a young warrior I had trained myself. His features were flecked with sadness, but he didn’t budge from his position.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What is the meaning of this?”
“We have our orders, shahzadem,” Mustafa said, then nodded at a guard near him.
As the guard approached, I tensed, knowing I could take down half these men or more, but not all.
And my fighting would result in bloodshed.
I couldn’t endure more ended lives on my account if I could help it.
I flexed my fingers to remove the impulse.
More guards approached. They hesitated before me, uncertainty and fear emanating from them.
I nodded, and they reached for my shamshir before unsheathing the rest of my blades except for the one concealed within my robes.
“All your weapons, shahzadem,” Mustafa stressed, knowing me too well.
I held his gaze as I unsheathed the final blade and slapped it into a guard’s hand. When they finished, they handed the weapons to Mustafa.
“The shahdokht as well.”
At the order, the guards shifted forward. I held up my hand, palm outward, and they stilled.
“I will break your hands if you lay a finger on her.”
They glanced at Mustafa, who watched me with a resolved expression before he said, “Lower your heads.”
The guards’ gazes, along with Mustafa’s, shifted to their boots to grant us a moment of privacy.
I turned to Yildiz, staring into her molten brown eyes as I withdrew her dagger.
There was so much trust there. Trust I didn’t deserve.
I gave Mustafa her blade, and he handed me a length of rope in return.
My mouth twisted at the sight, but I knew he had his orders and couldn’t disobey.
I reached for Yildiz’s hands, and she lifted them willingly, allowing me to slip the rope around her wrists.
“Why are they doing this?” she asked in a hushed tone, her gaze flitting to the guards all around us.
“We will find out,” I replied.
They bound my hands and led us into a caged cart. Mustafa lowered his head in shame when I questioned it.
“Surely we can ride our mounts.”
Mustafa gave no answer but also didn’t attempt to stop our horses as they obediently trotted after us when the cart set into motion.
Its rickety wheels moved unsteadily over the sandy road.
Yildiz leaned against me, her head tucked between my neck and shoulder.
Hours elapsed as we traveled in the cart meant for the worst of criminals.
Mustafa took brief breaks, handing us portions of water and bread.
Foreboding rose within me the closer we came to the capital.
If all came to worst, I couldn’t allow Yildiz to believe I didn’t love her.
She had to know, even if she hated me once she learned the truth of her father.
“What is it?” she asked, catching my stare.
I leaned closer, though my hands were bound, making the motion odd as I brushed my thumb over her lips, tracing the bow on the top. Her mouth parted in response, and her quickened breath fell against my palm.
“Dayyan?”
I wanted nothing more than to steal the air from those lips, to tell her without words how much she meant to me, but I was very aware of the eyes watching us, the guards surrounding the cart. I dropped my hands, forcing myself to look ahead at the road. She was silent for a long moment.
“I should have known better,” Yildiz whispered, her voice cutting. “Shahzadeh Dayyan belongs to the North and is a pawn of orders. He is not free to share emotion or give in to his feelings.”
My head whipped to her. Her jaw was rigid, her eyes flecked with flames. I leaned in.
“I am a captive,” I said, my voice low. “Yes, it is true. I am a pawn. But only for you.”
Her breath caught.
“I am yours, Shahdokht.” The words emerged hoarse and longing. “If there is no Yildiz, there is no Dayyan, remember? Until the Almighty takes our souls and our bodies are buried, until the sand claims us. I am yours.”
Tears welled, creating a sheen over her bronze eyes.
The cart shook, and we slammed against the bars as we lost our balance.
Mustafa shouted orders. The city towers of my home came into view.
The cart rolled past the gate, and the stares started.
The Northern civilians whispered behind hands, their eyes tracking us as we rattled past. Most looked on with sadness and a lesser amount with pity.
One woman appeared angry, chasing after the cart with a shout.
“How dare you bring this villain on the eve of the wedding?”
Yildiz’s head lifted at the woman’s shriek. “What wedding?”
I was at a complete loss. The city seemed covered in a swell of anticipation. Dread built within me the nearer we came to the palace.
We stopped by the wide stairs leading up to the gates.
The guards swarmed around the cart. At Mustafa’s orders, they hounded us through the palace, past the watchful eyes of the servants, all the way to the throne room.
Mustafa spoke to the announcer, to inform the shah of our presence.
The grand doors shuddered open and we entered.
Whispers fluttered from the people gathered on either side as we walked past them.
I saw my siblings Delara and Omid. They seemed sad, as if they had witnessed a horror their young eyes shouldn’t have seen.
When they caught sight of us, they launched forward but were yanked back by my mother and Malikeh Madar Sanaz.
They slipped their hands over the children’s mouths, silencing their calls.
I moved toward them, but the guards intercepted my path.
I locked gazes with my mother. Her eyes were filled with tears.
Mahnaz, Bahir’s jawahar, burst into wails.
I glanced over the familiar faces. Where was Bazmara?
Worry tightened my chest. Finally, my gaze slid to the man perched on the throne before us.
His brows were lowered, and something simmered in his eyes.
It differed from the looks he’d given me before. This was worse. Pure hatred.
“Kneel,” Shah Jihangir barked.
My jaw flexed, and I remained standing. Mustafa shouted at the guards, and they placed hands on my shoulders, shoving me to the floor. I hit the ground hard, my face slamming the stone. I blinked through the pain and pulled myself up to my knees.
“Why have you ordered our arrest?”
Gasps rang about the chamber, as though the people were astonished that I could even ask.
Shah Jihangir’s furious gaze burned into me. “You destroyed us. Everything we planned. The jadugar was right. This girl . . .” He cast a glare at Yildiz.
She remained unflinching, but even so, I wanted to go in front of her so she wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of his stare.
“This girl brought our end. Along with you.” Shah Jihangir shot to his feet. He clambered down the stairs. “You murdered my son,” he seethed.
Air escaped me in a rush. “What? What are you saying?”
Shah Jihangir snapped his fingers, and a servant dashed forward carrying a silver platter covered by a white cloth.
My heart rate sped up when the servant removed the cloth with trembling fingers.
Gasps echoed about the chamber. I blinked, shock filling my very being at the sight of the rotting head resting upon the platter.
It was Bahir’s thick brows, his face, his eyes.
But nothing was right about it. His familiar azure eyes were colder than ever before, wide and unseeing, his lips pale, almost white, his skin rotting away in patches.
And the smell . . . The scent of the dead seeped into the air.
Several people heaved their meals and were promptly escorted out by guards. I heard cries and could only hope my little siblings were being concealed from this gruesome sight. They shouldn’t see this. No one should.
Shah Jihangir’s eyes were full of tears and warmth as he caressed the top of Bahir’s matted strands of hair while whispering endearments. Horror clutched me. Shah Jihangir stilled and then his gaze became crazed as he refocused on me.
“Bahir is gone because of you.”
“Dayyan didn’t lay a finger on him,” Yildiz protested. “It was—”
“Silence!” a sharp voice ordered.
All eyes drifted to a woman emerging from the side door. Her red dress pooled to her feet, and a crimson veil covered her face, but her features were recognizable even through the covering.
Yildiz gasped. “Farani? What—what are you doing here?”
Her cousin walked until she looked down at her.
“I am here for my wedding.” She reached out, curving her slender fingers around Shah Jihangir’s arm. “But you couldn’t allow me to be happy even on this day.”
I went still, glancing between them. Disgust clawed up my throat, and I couldn’t help as it morphed the muscles in my face.
Shah Jihangir patted her hand. “We tried to rebuild after the destruction you caused. We will go into the mountain once again, this time to retrieve the roots for good, and we will rule together over the desert. Malikeh Adalya succumbed to her illness and passed, leaving Shahdokht Farani the heir. And when we’re married, the North and South will be one. ”
When he said it with such confidence, the words sounded so appealing; it was no wonder some civilians had been won over.
He presented an idea of a desert without war.
But I saw through the falseness. Once he had the roots, he would eliminate Farani.
He would abuse the roots and become the ultimate dictator.
My gaze slid to Farani, who was watching my father with a broad smile that did not quite reach her eyes.
And I realized she couldn’t share authority over the land either.
One way or another, royal blood would be spilled.
My father or Farani would meet death at the other’s hand.
I glanced at Yildiz and read her expression. She had come to the same conclusion.
“But first, we must do away with the curse you have brought upon my bloodline,” Shah Jihangir said, raising his voice to be heard by all. “For the death of Shahzadeh Bahir, Dayyan is sentenced to death and will be executed at first light.”
Gasps resounded. I heard my mother’s and siblings’ sobs but didn’t meet their eyes. I couldn’t bear to see their pain. I had always known my end would come eventually. My father would not waste this opportunity to vanquish me.
“You cannot do this! Dayyan is blameless,” Yildiz protested.
“Blameless?” Shah Jihangir repeated, mocking her. “This man you defend so ferociously killed your father. Shahzadeh Kahraman is dead because of him.”
Yildiz shook her head, unbelieving. But at the sight of my resolved features, sadness took over her eyes. She knew it was true. But still, she fought for me.
“Dayyan only protected his brother. He never—”
The slap echoed throughout the room. Farani glowered down over her cousin. Yildiz flinched, blood welling from her lip. Rage spilled in my veins, and I shot up, standing in front of her.
“I will be granted my last wish, will I not?”
Shah Jihangir scowled. “And what would that be?”
“Allow Yildiz her freedom.”
“Dayyan, stop,” Yildiz cried.
“Let her leave the North unharmed. You will not lay a finger on her. Not now. Not ever.”
Shah Jihangir’s eyes sparkled. “Done.”