Zahvik met her gaze. ‘I told the men at the dock not to interrupt this sacred event.’
What did he think he was doing at that very moment? It had been intentional. The entire kingdom could be on fire, and Zahvik would know exactly which direction the smoke was blowing. These people had eyes and ears in every corner of the empire.
Zahvik looked around until his gaze snagged on Aisha. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Recognition dawned, and his mouth curved up. His expression was neither cruel nor kind. He was simply making sure she felt seen.
Tariq got to his feet, drawing the sectarian’s gaze to him.
Zahvik looked him over. ‘And you must be Gruisea’s Crown Prince I have heard so much about. When King Hamza sent the invitation to foreign emissaries, the Emperor insisted I attend in person to bless the happy couple.’ He extended a hand in Tariq’s direction, expecting him to come forwards and kiss it.
Aisha gripped the edge of her chair with both hands.
Noticing, Tariq placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Forgive me, Your Holiness, but the Binding Feast tradition requires us to refrain from interacting with guests.’
The sectarian bowed his head. ‘We must respect traditions of this land.’
‘Numair, would you show His Holiness to his seat?’ Farrah said.
The steward came forwards, gesturing to the space between Jamil and Lilah. Aisha watched the colour drain from her sister’s face.
‘No!’ Aisha shouted, shooting up out of her seat.
‘You killed her!’ Zara’s young voice screamed in her mind.
Aisha fought the urge to cover her ears. Everyone was looking at her now, all with shocked expressions—except for Zahvik. He watched with interest.
All of Aisha’s instincts yelled not to let him near her sisters. And she would honour those instincts like her mother always had. ‘I…’
Tariq looked from Aisha to Zahvik. ‘We would be honoured if you joined us at our table.’
He had salvaged the mess the only way he could, and she didn’t contradict him. She lowered herself into her chair as the sectarian was shown to a seat on the other side of Tariq. The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. It was clear from the expressions of the nobility that they did not know what to make of the situation.
Aisha looked again at her sisters and saw that Lilah’s eyes had filled with tears. The damage this man continued to cause their family was unbearable.
Farrah leaned in to say something to the king, the corners of her mouth tight. Her eyes met Aisha’s briefly in the process, and Aisha could have sworn she saw traces of sympathy. The king nodded, then got to his feet, drawing the attention of the room. He raised his cup in the air.
Aisha and Tariq exchanged an equally confused look.
‘We have all observed Princess Aisha and Prince Tariq here tonight,’ Hamza said, his voice booming. ‘Now, I ask you, who among us blesses this union?’
He had jumped ahead to the toast.
Aisha’s gaze found Farrah’s, and she wondered if the queen had told her husband to do it. She didn’t know if it was an act of mercy or an attempt to save face, but she appreciated it more than Farrah would ever know.
The guests looked between themselves. Then, one by one, goblets rose. Some with enthusiasm, and some with reluctance, but up they went. More than enough.
‘So be it,’ Hamza said. ‘The union will be made sacred before the gods one week from now.’
Aisha’s eyes closed as relief washed over her.
‘Why would the king invite him to the wedding?’ Lilah asked, her eyes full of tears once more.
Aisha looked at her. ‘The invitation was for foreign emissaries. Due to their relationship with Slevaborg, they could hardly exclude them.’
‘The Emperor knew exactly what he was doing when he sent Zahvik,’ Safiya said, fuming. ‘It’s intimidation in its purest form.’
They were seated on Aisha’s bed with their knees pulled up, facing one another.
‘It’s a long way to travel to flex some muscle,’ Lilah said.
