‘Ukrocia?’ Farrah said.
Tariq couldn’t remember the last time anyone had travelled from the small kingdom to Gruisea. ‘Do they have diplomatic papers?’
‘Yes, but there’s more than papers on board.’
Tariq walked around the table towards him. ‘What?’
‘Not what, but who.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Commander,’ Farrah said sharply. ‘Can we skip the riddle, please? Tell us who is on board.’
The corners of Kaidon’s mouth lifted. ‘Queen Aisha and her sister Princess Safiya.’
The room went still. Tariq thought he must have misheard. ‘What did you say?’
‘Your queen.’ Kaidon couldn’t hold back the grin. ‘Your wife is here in Gruisea, Your Majesty.’
Aisha.
He headed for the door, her name repeating in his mind. ‘Excuse me,’ Tariq said over his shoulder before bursting from the chamber at a near run.
He tore down the castle steps and across the cobbled courtyard, startling two servants who barely had time to bow.
A stable hand jumped aside as Tariq marched into the stables, untying the first horse he came across wearing a saddle. He mounted in one fluid motion and left the stables at a canter.
‘Wait!’ Kaidon called after him, gesturing to the stable hand for a horse.
But he wasn’t waiting for anyone.
Hooves struck stone as they headed for the castle gates, guards scrambling to clear a path. Then he was weaving through the city.
The moment he was free of it, he leaned into the speed, the wind cold on his face. Trees blurred past, and the road stretched before him. He rode like a madman until he caught sight of a group of riders ahead. His eyes narrowed on a woman wearing a green cloak, and his horse slowed instinctively to a careful trot before stopping completely.
The group came to a halt as well, and the woman lowered the hood of her cloak and looked at him. It was Aisha. Safiya rode beside her, and they were flanked by two guards. Aisha eased her horse towards him, the details of her face growing clearer with each step. The wind lifted strands of her dark hair as she came to a stop directly in front of him.
Neither of them spoke.
Tariq was overwhelmed by the sight of her. She seemed unsure, but she never looked away. She was close enough for him to see the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. His mind ran through every possible word he could say to her, but none of them seemed worthy.
To his relief, she spoke first.
‘I know I’m not welcome here,’ she began, ‘but I really need you to hear me out.’
The breeze carried her voice to him like a long-awaited prayer.
Dismounting, he walked towards her, and Aisha’s grip on the reins tightened. She was afraid, and he didn’t blame her.
When he reached her, he lifted her from the saddle and pulled her straight into his chest. She went rigid at first, startled, but when his arms closed around her, the tension melted from her frame. Her arms slid around his waist, her face pressing into his tunic. He closed his eyes, letting the closeness of her steady him. The sensation of her grounded him. Undid him. For a few blessed seconds, nothing existed but the shape of her.
A horse came to a skidding halt nearby. It was Kaidon.
‘What did I miss?’ he asked.
‘Aisha here was about to tell the king why we’ve travelled all the way to Gruisea—again,’ Safiya said.
Aisha slowly, reluctantly, drew back from Tariq and looked up at him. ‘Hello.’
His eyes moved between hers. ‘Hello.’
