“And yet you were aware of it. Does it matter whose lips issued the order? Did not the directive come from your own crown?”
Kamran took a breath, said nothing. There was little else he could say without making himself a traitor to his empire. His grandfather had more than proven how readily he would decree the prince’s head be separated from his body, and despite Kamran’s many protests to the contrary, he rather liked being alive.
“Do you deny these allegations, sire?” the girl said,rounding on him. “How long have your men been watching me? How long have I been a subject of interest to the crown?”
“You know I cannot answer such questions.”
“Did you know who I was that night? The night you came to Baz House to return my parcels? Were you watching me even then?”
Kamran looked away. Faltered. “I— It was complicated— I did not know, not at first—”
“Goodness. And I thought you were merely being kind.” She laughed a sad laugh. “I suppose I should’ve known better than to think such a kindness might be granted without a hefty price.”
“My actions that night had no ulterior motive,” Kamran said sharply. “That much is true.”
“Is it really?”
Kamran struggled to maintain his composure. “Yes.”
“You do not wish me dead?”
“No.”
“The king, then. He wishes to kill me. Does he think me a threat to his throne?”
“You already know I cannot answer these questions.”
“You cannot answer the most pertinent questions, the ones most relevant to my life, to my welfare? And yet you smile and tease me, talk with me as if you are a friend and not a ruthless enemy. Where is your sense of honor, sire? I see you have misplaced it.”
Kamran swallowed. It was a moment before he spoke.
“I do not blame you for hating me,” he said quietly. “And Iwill not attempt to convince you otherwise. There are aspects of my role—of my position—that bind me, and which I can only detest in the privacy of my own mind.
“I would ask that you allow me only this in my own defense: Do not misunderstand me,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I wish you no harm.”
Twenty-Eight
ALIZEH STRUGGLED TO BREATHE. THEnosta glowed hot against her skin; the prince had not lied to her once.
It should’ve been a comfort to know that he meant her no harm, but she was not in full possession of herself. He’d caught her off guard, out of sorts. She seldom, if ever, allowed herself to get so angry, but today was a strange day, made more difficult by the hour.
She’d been dismissed without hesitation.
Alizeh had been sent upstairs to pack her things and exit the premises with all possible haste. She’d managed to avoid the inevitable beating, but only because she’d finally defended herself, terrifying Mrs. Amina in the process. There was no point in taking the hit, Alizeh had rationalized, if she was to be cast out regardless—though she’d not actuallyhitMrs. Amina. She’d merely lifted a hand to protect herself—and the housekeeper had nearly fainted.
The woman had not expected resistance, and the forceful impact of her hand against Alizeh’s forearm was such that it sprained the housekeeper’s wrist.
It was a modest victory, and it had cost Alizeh dearly.
At best, Mrs. Amina would deny her a reference—a reference that might’ve made all the difference in finding another position quickly. At worst, Mrs. Amina might report thesprain to Duchess Jamilah, who might then report Alizeh to the magistrates on charges of assault.
The girl’s hands were shaking.
She shook not merely with rage, but with fear for her life, the whole of it. For the first time she had hope of escape, but Hazan himself had said there was a chance their plans could go awry. It was imperative that Alizeh attend the ball tonight, but the deed was to be done with discretion—she would need camouflage in such a situation, which meant she needed a gown. Which meant she needed time and space to work; a safe place to prepare.
How would any of that happen now?
It was all beginning to drown her, the realizations sinking in like sediment. The pain in her knee had begun to ebb, but still it throbbed, and the dull ache reminded her now only of her own inexhaustible torment.
