Chapter 28
The world felt both too loud and too quiet. Every sound in the castle seemed wrong. Even the air strained under the weight of loss. Tariq couldn’t decide whether to scream or stay silent. His father was dead, his mother was angry, and amid it all, he had become king.
King.
The word didn’t quite fit him.
After Aisha had paid her respects to the dead king, the pair had slipped out into the garden for air, walking in silence with his fingers closed around hers. She kept him tethered to the world. He was grateful for the absence of conversation. There was nothing she could say to untangle the noise in his mind.
Once he could breathe again, they returned indoors, ready to make a plan for the next day. He was confident he could stretch his brain that far, just not beyond it. He wanted to forget the throne, the crown, the whispers circulating through the castle, and just be with his new wife. But time to grieve was one of the few luxuries a new king wasn’t entitled to.
They were almost to his quarters when Kaidon found them. One look at his face told him his plans were about to change.
‘What is it?’ Tariq asked.
‘The queen wants to see you.’ Then, realising his mistake, he added, ‘Your Majesty.’
It seemed too soon for such an address, but he understood the importance of immediate transfer of power. Exhaling, he looked at Aisha.
‘Go,’ she said. ‘I need to find Maryam.’
He kissed her forehead. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’ Then, to the guard by his door, he said, ‘Go with her, and stay alert.’
He made his way to his mother’s quarters, bracing for the conversation ahead. Yes, she would be grieving, but she would also be making plans of her own.
They arrived at Farrah’s receiving chamber, and the guard opened the heavy doors without announcing his arrival.
‘Good luck,’ Kaidon said quietly.
Tariq found her staring out the window despite it being too dark to see anything. He could almost see her mind churning. ‘Mother?’
She turned, looking him over. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Probably about as well as you.’ He was surprised to find her alone at such a time. ‘Where are your attendants? You shouldn’t be alone right now.’
‘I sent them away.’ She touched a delicate finger to her forehead. ‘There are some things we need to discuss in private.’
‘If it has to do with funeral arrangements, it can wait until the morning.’
‘I already have people working on that.’ She stared at him for a long moment. ‘I wanted to speak to you about the Avanid princesses.’
He already didn’t like the direction of the conversation. ‘What about them?’
She walked to the table and retrieved a piece of parchment. ‘This is the report from the physician.’ She held it out to him. ‘Your father was poisoned.’
Tariq had known it was a possibility. Walking over to her, he took the report from her and began to read.
Residual traces of toxin. No struggle observed. Rapid circulatory collapse.
His death had been silent, almost peaceful. No convulsions, no cry for help. Just a steady slowing of breath until nothing remained. The kind of death one prays for.
He looked back at his mother. ‘What does this have to do with the princesses?’
She held his gaze. ‘I believe they did it.’
It took him a moment to register the accusation. ‘You think them killers? You can’t be serious.’
‘They’re covenweavers. Maybe not all, but definitely some—including your wife.’
