Darkness swallowed her.
The air inside the tower was colder. It tasted different. Torchlight flickered across damp stone walls as she was led up a winding staircase. The shadows seemed to reach for her. No one spoke, one guard ahead and one behind. The rhythm of their boots matched the pounding of her heart. She tried to slow it down, tried not to fall apart.
The staircase finally gave way to a corridor with a single iron-banded door at the end. One guard pulled out a ring of keys to unlock it. The scrape of metal on metal was loud in the small space. The door creaked open, and she was guided into a cell with one tiny window at the top. A single cot sat against the far wall, with a folded woollen blanket on the end. The floor had been swept clean. It felt like a tomb.
The door clanged shut behind her, and the guards retreated to the other end of the corridor. Aisha walked slowly over to the cot, brushing dust off it before sitting down. Her hands trembled in her lap as she looked around, and her mouth was so dry. She reminded herself that she had lied to save them. Her sisters, her father, and Omar—the future King of Avanid. But the cost of that decision was being locked in a cell and praying Tariq wouldn’t execute her.
The cot creaked beneath her weight. There was no warmth. No comfort.
Shuffling back, she leaned against the wall and pulled her knees up, dropping her forehead to them. A tear slipped down her cheek and was soaked up by her robe. She didn’t lift her head again, because there was nothing to see but stone and shadows. So she closed her eyes and waited for dawn.
The cold crept in overnight, and Aisha woke with a sharp jolt. For a moment, she didn’t remember where she was. The walls were unfamiliar, and the bed was harder than anything she’d ever slept on. Her gaze went to the small window above, where pale grey light finally filtered in.
It was morning.
Her throat ached, and her body felt sore from being tense all night. She ran a hand through her hair as she moved to the edge of the bed, her feet meeting the chill of the floor. And that’s when she felt it. That sense of being watched.
She looked up.
Tariq stood on the other side of the door, watching her. He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all. The hollows beneath his eyes were the darkest she had ever seen them, and his jaw was dusted with stubble. He looked… brittle.
Aisha slowly stood, waiting for him to speak.
‘Your family’s ship departed Gruisea an hour ago.’ His voice was low. ‘Everyone made it aboard. I thought you’d want to know.’
There was relief, but there was also crushing grief. ‘Thank you.’
Her gratitude seemed to agitate him. ‘I had no reason to keep them here, since you apparently acted alone in killing my father.’
‘I’m sure your mother would have preferred to see us all locked up.’
Tariq’s expression didn’t change, his cold eyes staring at her. ‘I would have investigated the situation thoroughly.’
‘I saved you the trouble.’
He took a step closer, so that his face was almost touching the iron bars. ‘I need to hear it from you, one last time, before I meet with the council. Did you kill my father?’
Aisha’s pulse thundered in her ears. ‘Yes.’
The disappointment on his face crushed her.
‘Were you really in such a rush to be queen?’ he asked.
‘I did it for both of us.’ The lie came out easier than she thought it would. ‘So we could change all the things we planned to change. Save lives.’
His jaw worked. ‘Last chance to take it back. Once the council rules, a sentence will be passed.’
Aisha’s hands twitched at her sides. ‘I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you what you want to hear.’ That part was truthful.
‘You’re sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘They’ll sentence you to death. And I won’t be able to stop them.’
‘I know he loves you and will protect you with his life.’ Maryam’s words came to her. Aisha had no choice but to trust the woman who had deceived her.
‘Will you take care of Mira?’ she asked.
Tariq’s eyes filled with anger. ‘You have a lot of audacity asking for favours.’
She swallowed guiltily.
