That had Tariq on alert. ‘Alone?’
Farrah looked him straight in the eyes. ‘Yes, alone.’
His gut was telling him it was a bad idea, but he also knew he couldn’t keep them apart forever. Their futures were entwined. ‘Fine, but please be kind.’
She feigned offence. ‘The fact that you feel the need to say that is insulting.’
He rose from the table. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have some business in the city.’
Hamza merely nodded.
‘We shall see you later,’ Farrah said, turning her attention back to her breakfast.
Tariq offered a small bow before making his way across the garden, rejoining Kaidon at the gate. The guard cast a quick glance at the king and queen before asking, ‘So? Is there to be a wedding?’
‘Yes.’ Tariq gave him a sideways look. ‘They just haven’t agreed to it yet.’
‘Ah. Well, at least you know now that you brought the right bride back with you.’
Even before Aisha’s apparent vision, Tariq had known it was her. He began walking. ‘My mother’s planning on spending some time with the princess today.’
‘I suppose that’s inevitable if she’s to join the family.’ Kaidon paused. ‘Do you ever worry that you’re putting too much faith in one attendant’s vision?’
‘Every day,’ Tariq said plainly.
Maryam had been tending the queen a few months earlier when she’d had the vision. She had risked her life in telling him. He could have—should have—turned her over to Jamil, who would have sentenced her accordingly. Instead, he kept her secret, because she was part of a movement that wanted a different future for Gruisea.
A movement he was also a part of.
They went to the stables to collect their horses, then headed into the city.
Chaldea unfolded before them in layers that no longer fit together. The marble façades and tiled roofs of the merchants’ quarter gleamed, while just beyond, cracked plaster and sagging timber told another story. Everywhere else, fountains were dry and the cobblestones beneath his horse’s hooves were uneven from neglect. The gulf between the wealthy and the miners was widening.
Nobles drifted about in embroidered robes, their perfumes taking over the air, while ragged children lingered in alleyways, watching them. Tariq felt the quiet resentment beneath the hollow greetings he received.
They slowed their horses to a walk when the road turned to dirt, marking the outskirts of the city. When they reached a building with multiple horses tethered out front, they dismounted. Inside, a group of men were waiting for them, their faces showing signs of frustration.
Malik marched straight up to Tariq when he spotted him. ‘Did you hear?’
Kaidon intercepted him gently. ‘Easy now.’
‘They took Kanin on his birthday,’ Malik shouted around the guard. ‘On his birthday.’
Tariq knew whatever he said wouldn’t be enough. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry? He’s ten years old and destined to spend the rest of his life in a black hole.’
Kaidon forced the man to take a step back. ‘No, he won’t. Remember, the prince is here because he wants to change that.’
Malik waved Kaidon’s words away before walking off to calm down.
Rauf, one of the older men who attended, folded his arms across his chest and looked at Tariq with scepticism. ‘Some of the children are struggling to lift the tools, yet they’re forced to labour for up to nine hours.’
They had every right to be angry, but he was careful to keep his expression neutral. He wanted to rage with them, cry with them, but he was the Crown Prince of Gruisea. He was supposed to be enforcing his father’s laws, not secretly scheming to change them. ‘You’ve likely heard that Princess Aisha is here in Gruisea. Avanid will be our first direct trade route. I only ask for your patience.’
‘We’ve been very patient,’ Malik said bitterly. ‘I was patient when I took off my uniform and laid down my weapons because King Hamza asked it of me. I was patient when he sent me to work in a mine. I was patient when the hours increased and the days grew longer.’ He sniffed, hard. ‘Now you come for my children, and I find myself running out of patience.’
‘We have men ready to rise,’ Rauf said.
