“Then you intend to make a mistake. This could be a trap—”
To the butler, the prince said, “I’ll meet the boy in the receiving room.”
“Yes, sire.” Jamsheed glanced from the prince to his minister. “As you wish.”
“Your Highness—”
“That is all,” the prince said sharply.
The butler bowed at once, then disappeared, the door closing behind him.
When they were alone, Hazan turned to face the prince. “Are you mad? I don’t understand why you’d consent t—”
In a single, swift movement Kamran grabbed Hazan by the collar and slammed his back against the wall.
Hazan gasped.
“You are hiding something,” Kamran said darkly. “What is your game?”
Hazan went rigid with surprise, his eyes widening with a touch of fear. “No, sire. Forgive me, I meant not to overstep—”
Kamran tightened his grip. “You are lying to me, Hazan. What is your preoccupation with the b—”
The prince cut himself off, suddenly, for he was startled by a soft, buzzing sound in his left ear.
Kamran turned, blinking in surprise. A slight, glowing insect hovered inches from his face, bumping incessantly against his cheek.
Thop.
Thop.
“What on earth—” The prince grimaced and stepped back, relinquishing the minister to swat the fly from his face; Hazan slumped against the wall, breathing hard.
Go, Kamran thought he heard him whisper.
Or was it merely an exhale?
Kamran watched, stunned, as the fly darted straight toward the door and through the keyhole, disappearing into the world beyond.
Had the insect obeyed a command? Or had Kamran lost his mind? He spared his minister a single, strange glance before he quit the room, pulling open the door with forced calm and striding down the hall with unusual speed, his skin prickling with unease.
Where had the blasted creature gone?
“Your Highness—” Hazan called, catching up, then keeping pace. “Your Highness, forgive me— I only worried the child might prove a distraction on such an important evening— I spoke thoughtlessly. I meant no disrespect.”
Kamran ignored this as he barreled down the marble staircase, his boots connecting over and over with stone, the sharp sounds filling the silence between them.
“Your Highness—”
“Leave me, Hazan.” Kamran made it to the main floor and kept moving, marching toward the great room with unconcealed determination. “I find your shadow cumbersome.”
“I cannot leave you now, sire, not with such a threat looming—”
Kamran came to an abrupt, disorienting halt.
Omid.
The Fesht boy was not in the receiving room where he was meant to be. Omid was instead pacing the main hall when they approached and did not wait for permission before he rushed toward the prince, darting out of reach of the footmen who sought to restrain him.
