‘I think you need to leave as soon as possible,’ Aisha said quietly.
Zara set the linen down. ‘Abandon you with this mess to clean up?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s technically my mess. And I just don’t trust the queen right now. She’s clearly grieving and desperate for someone to blame.’
A look of resignation settled on Zara’s face. ‘You’re right. I’ll send word to the ship’s captain. I doubt anyone will question the urgent departure given Baba was absent from the wedding feast.’ Her expression softened. ‘I wish you were coming with us.’
‘Can you imagine what people would say if I left now?’ A faint smile came and went. ‘Baba won’t survive the weight of all this. A quiet departure is best. No ceremony or elaborate farewells.’
Zara searched her eyes for a moment. ‘I?—’
The chamber door swung open, and two guards marched in. The women shot to their feet.
‘What’s going on?’ Zara demanded, moving to block their path.
‘A search, Your Highness,’ said one. ‘You need to step aside.’
The other had already flung open Zara’s trunk and was now searching through her belongings.
‘What search?’ Aisha asked, stepping past her sister. ‘On whose orders?’
Omar wandered into the room, rubbing his eyes. ‘What’s going on?’
Zara gestured for him to come to her, never taking her eyes off the guard in the process. ‘You both need to leave—now.’
‘We’ll be as quick as we can,’ the guard replied calmly.
Aisha walked over to the man going through the trunk. ‘Did Queen Farrah order this?’ If she had, Aisha would go directly to Tariq, and he would put a stop to the craziness.
‘The king ordered the search,’ came a voice from the door.
Aisha turned to see Kaidon standing in the open doorway, looking remorseful. ‘He ordered a search of my sister’s chamber?’
A nod. ‘All of the chambers.’
Aisha looked at Zara, whose shocked expression mirrored her own, shaking her head in disbelief. Tariq would never… Except he had. Kaidon was no liar.
One of the guards passed by her, going into the adjoining room. He lifted the lid of Omar’s chest and began pulling clothes out. Aisha felt sick.
She made up her mind to go and speak with him and headed for the door. ‘Where is he?’ she asked Kaidon.
‘Aisha…’
She stilled. ‘You will address me correctly.’
His nod was almost sad. ‘Your Majesty, he’s in the west gallery with one of the foreign envoys. He said he would?—’
She was out the door before he could finish, and to his credit, he didn’t try to stop her.
Moving quickly through the winding corridors, still in her wedding garment, she focused on the conversation ahead. She needed to see his face and hear his voice so she could try to understand what was going on. They would talk, regroup, and move forwards together—just like they had planned.
As she rounded the corner of the guest wing, a figure emerged from the far corridor. It was Maryam. The attendant paused when she caught sight of Aisha. The kind of pause someone makes when they’ve been caught doing something wrong.
Aisha waited in her path for her to stop and look at her properly. ‘Where have you been?’ The question was choked by tears. ‘The king dies, and you’re nowhere to be seen.’
The shame in Maryam’s eyes made Aisha uneasy.
‘I know about the Miraji root you’ve been putting in my tea,’ she said, testing the waters.
