‘I watched you fade as soon as your head met King Hamza’s hand,’ Zara said. ‘Your new husband is a genius, by the way. He just swept you up like he couldn’t wait another moment to kiss you. The guests were literally gasping.’
Aisha leaned against the rail. ‘He’s going to need every trick available to him in order to keep this secret. We both know that even the title of queen comes with no guarantee of protection.’
They both fell silent.
‘Do you really think it was King Hamza lying on that bed?’ Zara asked.
The image flashed in Aisha’s mind, and she nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Sick?’ Zara lowered her voice. ‘Or dying?’
Aisha shook her head. ‘I really don’t know. I didn’t even see his face.’
Zara’s gaze drifted to the door. ‘Have you told Tariq?’
‘Today has been stressful enough. He deserves to enjoy the next part.’
Zara took hold of Aisha’s shoulder. ‘Perhaps you should forget what you saw. Say nothing more about it to anyone. Because if anything does happen to King Hamza, you might be implicated.’
The balcony doors creaked open again, and Lilah stepped out.
‘There you are,’ she said, sounding out of breath. ‘I just did forty laps of the hall looking for you.’
Aisha took in her expression. ‘What is it?’
‘I checked the tea, and I can confirm it contained Miraji root.’
Aisha’s mind scrambled to catch up. ‘What?’
‘The tea Maryam has been giving you, multiple times per day.’ Lilah waited for a reaction, and when she didn’t get it, she added, ‘She’s either attempting to induce visions or trying to make your mind more accessible to others.’
Aisha shook her head, mostly because she didn’t like what she was hearing.
‘I think she’s a covenweaver,’ Lilah whispered. ‘But I think you already know that.’
Aisha had made a promise to keep Maryam’s secret. She would not expose her without having all the facts first. Her first thought was that it had something to do with her previous arrangement with Tariq. But she had given Aisha the tea that morning.
A look of deep concern settled on Zara’s face. ‘That means Maryam knows about you.’
Shouting reached them from inside the hall. The music stopped, and the heavy beat of footsteps followed.
‘What on earth is going on?’ Zara said, rushing over to the doors and looking through them. The others followed at her heels.
Aisha was terrified of what she would see.
‘Clear this space!’ she heard Tariq shout.
The edge of fear in his voice had her stumbling forwards into the grand hall, looking around. Mere moments ago, the room had been brimming with music and laughter. Now there was nothing but stunned silence. Plates lay abandoned. All eyes had turned towards the platform at the head of the room, where King Hamza lay on the floor beside an overturned chair.
Aisha’s heart thundered painfully in her chest as she took in the scene. Queen Farrah was on her knees beside the king, barking commands at nearby attendants, all the colour drained from her face. Tariq was kneeling opposite, two fingers pressed to his father’s neck, searching for a pulse. His jaw was tight and shoulders rigid. Kaidon stood behind him, hands in his hair, watching.
Aisha saw Nasir standing nearby and went to him. ‘What happened?’ she whispered, eyes fixed on the king.
‘He collapsed. One moment he was eating, and the next he was on the floor.’ Nasir shook his head. ‘They’ve sent for the royal physician.’
Aisha began weaving through the stunned crowd until she reached the edge of the platform, where Hamza lay painfully still.
‘Stay back,’ the queen hissed at her.
