‘Now for your face,’ Maryam said when she was done.
She went to mix powders in a small dish, then traced colour over Aisha’s eyelids with a soft brush. Then she used kohl to darken the lashes and added a rose colour high on her cheeks.
Satisfied with her work, Maryam wiped her hands on a cloth before fetching the silks draped across the bed. The gown shimmered when she lifted it. The fabric felt luxurious against Aisha’s skin as she slipped it over her head. Maryam adjusted the folds and smoothed each crease until it lay perfectly. She then added heavy jewellery at Aisha’s throat and wrists.
Aisha found the weight suffocating.
When she was finished, Maryam stepped back to look at her properly. ‘I believe you are ready, Your Highness.’
Aisha stared at her reflection in the mirror, and a stranger stared back. It was all so unfamiliar. ‘They’ll approve of this?’ she asked Maryam, turning to her. ‘The nobility?’
Maryam’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly. ‘Yes, Your Highness.’ She returned the empty cup to the tray. ‘When you are ready, I will escort you to the banquet courtyard. The prince is waiting for you there.’
Aisha didn’t think she would ever feel ready.
She looked around for her silk gloves, hoping Maryam wouldn’t ask about them. The attendant watched her put them on but didn’t say a word.
‘Are you ready, Your Highness?’ Maryam asked.
‘Ready.’
Tariq paced in front of the doors that opened to the banquet courtyard, exchanging pleasantries with passing guests as they entered. He could feel the quiet whispers already brewing on the other side. Kaidon was standing off to one side, watching him.
‘She should be here by now,’ Tariq said.
‘It’s early,’ Kaidon replied. ‘The guests aren’t going anywhere.’
Approaching footsteps had Tariq looking up again. His feet stilled when he spotted Aisha walking towards him. Her dark hair had been pinned back, and colour edged her eyes, making them look sharp and luminous. His gaze fell to her painted lips, then to her gown, light enough to catch the glow of the hall’s lamps. The neckline was modest, edged in silver thread, with long fitted sleeves that tapered to her wrists. A wide belt cinched her waist, with delicate chains trailing down the front. It was beautiful, but it was also deliberate. Bold enough to remind the room she was Avanid royalty and restrained enough to silence accusations of ostentation.
He also noticed the gloves.
‘You’re staring,’ Kaidon whispered to him. ‘In a creepy way.’
Tariq quickly averted his gaze, not looking at her again until she was standing in front of him. The stirring in his chest was most unwelcome.
‘What do you think?’ Aisha asked, turning in a circle.
He ran his eyes briefly over her. ‘You look nice.’
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kaidon look up at the ceiling. The words had come out flatter than he’d intended. Perhaps he was trying to make up for the fact that he’d been caught staring. It wasn’t the gown—it was her. It had been the same when he first arrived at Khorasan Palace, when he had spotted her on the balcony. She had a way of holding a person’s attention.
Perhaps it was one of her covenweaver abilities.
‘Thank you.’ There was definitely disappointment in her voice. ‘You look nice also.’
He regretted his choice of compliment. Nice was not beautiful, and she was beautiful. But it was too late to do anything about it now.
His own attire was simple in comparison: a tailored indigo tunic trimmed in gold thread, a leather belt with a silver clasp, and black trousers.
‘Anything I need to know before we go in?’ she asked.
He glanced at the doors. ‘I’m sure I’ll think of something once we’re in there.’ He offered his arm. ‘Just follow my lead. Tell me you’re thirsty if you need to exit a conversation at any point, and we’ll go and get you a drink.’
She took his arm as if she had done it a hundred times before. The warmth of her touch reached him through the fabric.
Kaidon stepped up to the doors and pulled them open. Tariq felt the weight of the nobility’s eyes on them as they entered, speculating. Aisha carried herself well, back straight and head high. He prayed that strength would last the evening.
‘Let’s start with an easy one,’ he whispered, steering her towards some members of his family. They paused their conversation when they saw him approaching. ‘May I present His Excellency Eyad and Her Grace Kalila. My aunt and uncle.’ He gestured to Aisha. ‘This is my esteemed guest all the way from Avanid, Princess Aisha.’
