“And what, pray,” Miss Huda said finally, “did you mean to do about it?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“If I had told you,” Miss Huda said with a sigh, “that my mother did indeed intend to murder me, what would you have done about it? I ask because you appeared, for a moment, quite determined. As if you had a plan.”
Alizeh felt herself flush. “No, miss,” she said quietly. “Not at all.”
“You did too have a plan,” Miss Huda insisted, her earlier panic dissipating now. “There’s no point in denying it, so go on. Let’s hear it. Let’s hear your plan to save me.”
“It was not a plan, miss. I merely— I only had a thought.”
“So you admit it, then? You had a thought about saving me from the clutches of my murderous mother?”
Alizeh lowered her eyes at that, saying nothing. She thought Miss Huda was being intolerably cruel.
“Oh, very well,” the young woman said, collapsing into a chair with a touch of theater. “You need not speak it aloud if you find the confession so torturous. I was merely curious. After all, you hardly know me; I was only wondering why you cared.”
The nosta glowed warm.
Stunned, Alizeh said, “You wondered why I would care if your mother might actually murder you?”
“Is that not what I just said?”
“Are you— Are you quite serious, miss?” Alizeh knew Miss Huda was serious, but somehow she couldn’t help asking the question.
“Of course I am.” Miss Huda sat up straighter. “Have I ever seemed to you interested in subtlety? I’m in fact quite known for my candor, and I daresay Mother hates my lack of refinement even more than she hates my figure. She says my mouth and hips are a product of thatwoman, thatother woman—which is how she refers, of course, to my biological mother.”
When Alizeh said nothing in response to Miss Huda’s obvious effort to shock her, the young woman raised hereyebrows. “Is it possible you didn’t know? That would make you the only person in Setar ignorant of my origins, for mine is an infamous tale, as my father refused to hide his sins from society. Still, I am quite illegitimate, the bastard child of a nobleman and a courtesan. It’s no secret that neither of my mothers have ever wanted me.”
Alizeh continued to say nothing. She didn’t dare.
Miss Huda’s performance of indifference was so obvious as to be painful to witness; Alizeh didn’t know whether to shake the girl or hug her.
“Yes,” Alizeh said finally. “I knew.”
She saw a flicker of emotion in Miss Huda’s eyes then, something like relief, there and gone again. And just like that, Alizeh’s heart softened toward the girl.
Miss Huda had been worried.
She’d been worried that Alizeh, a lowly servant, had not known of her parentage; she worried a lowly servant would find out and judge her harshly. Miss Huda’s attempt to scandalize had in fact been an effort to out herself preemptively, to spare herself a painful retraction of kindness, or friendship, upon discovery.
This was a fear Alizeh understood well.
But that Miss Huda would lower herself to be bothered by the worthless opinion of a snoda taught Alizeh a great deal about the depth of the young woman’s insecurities; it was information she would file away in her mind, and not soon forget.
Quietly, Alizeh said, “I would’ve found a way to protect you.”
“Pardon?”
“If you’d told me,” Alizeh clarified, “that your mother had been trying in earnest to murder you. I would’ve found a way to protect you.”
“You?” Miss Huda laughed. “Youwould’ve protected me?”
Alizeh bowed her head, fought back a renewed wave of irritation. “You asked for my confession—for the thought that crossed my mind. That was it.”
There was a brief silence.
“You really mean that,” the young woman said finally.
