She realised she had missed the last thing he said. ‘What?’
He appeared agitated. ‘I asked if you have any last requests.’
She had barely wrapped her mind around the fact that she was about to die. She tried to concentrate on the question. What did she need in her final moments?
‘Yes.’ A tear slipped down her cheek. ‘I want you to tell my family that my death was quick. Tell them I lost consciousness before the flames reached me. That I didn’t feel a thing.’ Her mother’s scream rang out in her mind. She looked over at Farrah. ‘Please. Promise me you’ll do everything you can to ease their pain.’
Farrah’s expression had turned from hateful to something more human. She nodded her consent.
‘So be it,’ Jamil said before stepping aside.
One of the guards pushed Aisha towards the pyre. It wasn’t even a forceful push, but she stumbled anyway. She had no choice but to climb the wooden steps to the narrow platform at the top. The men secured her shackles to the post using the available chain. They produced a second chain and wrapped it around her ankles. She remembered how stoic her mother had been the day she died and channelled that energy, hoping it would ease the fear.
Once she was secured, the guards made their way back down the steps and positioned themselves well away from the pyre.
It was Zahvik who lit the torch and carried it to the pyre. Zahvik who lowered it to the debris and teased the edges until smoke rose.
Aisha closed her eyes, and the faces of her family flashed in her mind. Early memories too. Her father humming as he carved ivory. Her mother watching with a sleeping Omar pressed to her chest. Life had been beautiful once.
Then she saw Tariq. His barely there smile, the one that betrayed his restraint. The warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. She could almost feel the weight of his hand against her back. Maybe if she held his gaze for long enough…
A faint heat bloomed around her feet. It was the kind of heat one holds their hands to for warmth. She made the mistake of opening her eyes to look, and they immediately began to water. When she looked up, her eyes met Farrah’s. The queen stood with her hands clasped, her veil catching in the draft from the tunnel behind her. There was no disdain. No gloating or satisfaction. Only tightness around her mouth and something resembling pain in her eyes.
Hers was the last face Aisha saw before she closed her eyes—tightly this time. The kindling crackled louder below her, and the heat thickened against her skin.
The world narrowed, and Aisha refused to scream.
Chapter 33
Tariq stood atop the eastern wall, hands braced on the cold stone embrasure and eyes on the tower in the distance. The morning was cold and bitter, the sky the colour of ash. The view was deceptively peaceful.
Once again, he had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Aisha’s face or heard her voice—the conviction in her tone.
‘Your Majesty,’ Kaidon said behind him. The guard had barely left Tariq’s side since the feast.
Tariq looked tiredly over his shoulder. Kaidon gestured to someone on the wall walk. It was Maryam—moving fast. When Tariq registered her panicked expression, he straightened and headed in her direction.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Your Majesty.’ She fell to her knees before him. ‘I have come to beg you not to go ahead with this execution.’
Tariq’s eyebrows came together. ‘That’s a little premature. Aisha hasn’t even been sentenced yet.’
Maryam looked up. ‘Yes, she has.’
A cold sensation crawled along Tariq’s spine.
‘Where’s that smoke coming from?’ Kaidon walked over to the embrasure for a better look.
Tariq looked over at the plume of smoke rising into the sky. Then he was running.
‘What’s wrong?’ Kaidon asked, following him.
Tariq bolted for the stairs, every footfall pounding in his ears like a war drum. He took the steps three at a time, his cloak flying behind him. His breath steamed in the cold air as he pushed himself faster. ‘Move!’ he roared at the guard standing at the bottom.
Kaidon managed to keep up. When they reached the tower, he yelled, ‘Open the door!’ at the slightly panicked guard watching their fast approach.
The man fumbled with a ring of keys, pushing the door open just as they reached it. Tariq leapt up the stairs, heading for the corridor that led to the lower courtyard, where the smoke had been coming from. The smell of it hit him full in the face as he slammed through the gate and sprinted down the final corridor.
