The question caught him off-guard. He turned to her, eyebrows drawn together.
‘Your wife,’ Farrah said, as if it needed clarification. ‘Have you written to her?’
Hearing the term ‘your wife’ was too much. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’
The conversation was starting to sound like a mother-son talk. It was unfamiliar territory for him. ‘Because she’s settled and safe in Avanid.’ He shifted his weight. ‘And I’ve no intention of disrupting that.’
Farrah’s expression softened. She didn’t respond right away, instead looking back at the barracks as she gathered her next words. ‘You miss her, deeply.’
Tariq’s throat tightened, and he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands suddenly.
‘I thought it was infatuation. A distraction,’ she continued. ‘But then I saw you start to trust her. I saw you love her.’ Another pause. ‘It was easier to believe she had fooled you, cast some sort of spell, than accept a relationship I did not understand, one I deemed inappropriate because it was not my experience of marriage.’
He didn’t speak for a moment. ‘You let that man burn her.’
A solemn nod. ‘Yes.’
Another silence stretched. This one felt tired.
‘I cannot change how I have handled things up to this point,’ Farrah said. ‘But I can see now what I refused to see then.’ She waited until he looked at her. ‘That despite the family she came from, and all that has transpired, she might, in fact, be the right queen for Gruisea.’ Her voice softened. ‘And perhaps… the right wife for you.’
His shoulders fell an inch. There was a strange relief in hearing her finally say it. For the first time in his life, it felt like she was seeing him instead of just the crown on his head. ‘I appreciate everything you just said, but I won’t disrupt her peace and safety.’
Farrah moved closer to him. ‘No one is safe with Emperor Hassan in power. Least of all Aisha, whose father is completely incompetent in his role.’
‘Mother—’
‘I know you do not wish to hear it, but you know it is the truth. The only thing holding that kingdom together is the eldest sister and the memory of a great queen who will eventually be forgotten.’ When Tariq didn’t dispute it, she added, ‘Aisha belongs here, at your side. As the Queen of Gruisea.’
Tariq stared at his mother. He hadn’t allowed himself the luxury of such thoughts. There was only so much disappointment he could bear. But now hope seeped through the cracks of his restraint, drowning everything else out.
‘You are clearly committed to fixing this kingdom,’ Farrah said, ‘but perhaps you should fix your marriage first.’ She released a heavy breath. ‘I will not interfere with your relationship again. You have my word.’
Tariq searched her eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all he saw was an exhausted mother—trying. ‘She may not want to come back.’
Farrah nodded. ‘That is a possibility. There is only one way to find out.’ She turned and left.
Tariq remained on the wall, the wind pressing at his back. He hardly felt it. What filled him now was a quieter force. Aisha’s laugh came to mind—not the polite one she offered at court, but the real one that took over her entire face. He’d made it his personal mission to earn that sound again and again. He remembered the way she looked at him when no one else was watching, with curiosity and love. She had a way of seeing every truth he tried to bury. If he concentrated really hard, he could almost feel the weight of her fingertips on his wrist.
Her absence suddenly felt unbearable.
Tariq released a long, steady breath. It was time to stop watching the distance and start closing it.
It was time to make a plan to bring his wife home.
Chapter 42
The tea on the table had long gone cold. Aisha sat cross-legged on the floor of her bedchamber, her back resting against the lounge where Lilah and Safiya were seated. Zara stood by the window, twisting a ring on her finger as she watched the orange sky. It was the day after Zahvik’s visit, and the four of them were still trying to figure out what to do with Aisha’s latest vision.
‘How many ships do you estimate?’ Zara asked.
Aisha slowly shook her head. ‘I saw a fleet, but I couldn’t say exactly how many. But enough.’
‘And you’re sure the beach was in Gruisea?’ Safiya asked—again.
‘I recognised the coastline.’ Aisha blinked at the memory. ‘And some of the men wore blue uniforms.’
