“The ice marks me as heir to the lost Jinn empire. The brutal cold is meant to prove my mettle,” she explained. “Those who cannot survive the ravages of the frost in the body are not expected to survive the ravages of the throne.”
Softly Cyrus said, “You really do exist, then. You’re not merely a fairy tale.”
Alizeh’s eyes flew open. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not ignorant of Jinn folklore,” he said, turning away. “This world has many failed royals. I assumed you’d be some coddled, uncrowned queen from a collapsed empire too small to be remembered. But you’re the one they’ve been waiting for, aren’t you? The one, it seems, even the devil has been waiting for. It would patch the holes in the many riddles he’s fed me. And it would explain why he covets you so desperately.”
“Yes,” Alizeh whispered, feeling more like a fraud in every moment.Shewas meant to be the savior of her people? She, who’d spent the last few years of her life scrubbingfloors and toilets? “I suppose I am.”
In response, Cyrus only sighed.
When Alizeh finally dared to look at him, she found him staring into his black hat, his fingers tracing the brim.
The sight of it made her wonder.
“Earlier tonight you used magic to transport us to the ball,” she said. “Why not do the same to deliver us to Tulan? The dragon seems a bit much.”
Cyrus’s hands stilled. He looked up slowly, his eyes glittering in the radiance of the firmament. There was no censure—only surprise—when he said: “You really know nothing about magic, do you?”
She shook her head. “Very little.”
“And yet”—he frowned—“I have been informed that you require it. That in fact you possess inside yourself its most essential elements, somehow. Are you truly ignorant of your fate?”
Alizeh felt a bolt of fear at that, a familiar thrum as her heart began to race in her chest. It was only now occurring to Alizeh just how much the devil might’ve divulged about her life to this veritable stranger. It put her at a terrible disadvantage.
“What else has he told you about me?” she asked.
“Who? Iblees?”
Alizeh breaths were coming faster now, dread mounting. His was an inane question, one she would not answer—and Cyrus, who was not stupid, soon sighed.
“As I said, he intimated only that you were a queen from another empire. One who’d lost her throne and sought akingdom elsewhere. He did not tell me you were a Jinn.” A beat, and then: “Or if he did, it was not clear.”
The nosta sparked warm.
“His asinine riddles make it damn near impossible to understand him sometimes,” Cyrus muttered, his expression souring. “Then again, it all seems to work out to his advantage. Such convoluted communications appear to be quite effective at fleecing susceptible humans.”
“Yes,” Alizeh said, surprised to experience an alignment of sympathies with the southern king. “I know the feeling well. He’s been haunting me since I was born.”
Cyrus met her eyes, studying her with something like caution. “I cannot magic myself—or others—across great distances. The half-life of the mineral is too short.”
Alizeh did not understand this explanation, but just as she was deciding whether to expose her ignorance, a violent gust did its utmost to unseat her. She clutched desperately at her borrowed garment, pulling the lapels more tightly around her body—and her fingers met with something wet.
Alizeh drew her hand away sharply, inspecting the moisture under the moonlight before pinning Cyrus with a look of abject fear. “There’s blood on your coat,” she breathed.
Cyrus’s cool stare gave no indication of his feelings on the matter. He said only, “I’m certain you boast intellect enough to imagine how difficult it is to kill a man without soiling one’s clothes.”
Alizeh looked away and swallowed.
Only now did she realize that Cyrus and Kamran had been left alone for some time in the wake of her unceremoniousdeparture—before which Cyrus had been poised to deliver Kamran a fatal blow. She knew better than to betray her emotions on the matter, but how would she ever be at ease if she did not ask? She had to know—she had to find a way to determine whether he’d finished the task—
“How had the crown prince come to know your name?”
Alizeh started, so unnerved she nearly dropped the coat. “What?” she said, turning slowly to face Cyrus.
Anger flared to life in his eyes. “Come now; we’ve been doing so well. Let’s not evolve backward, insulting each other with exhibitions of ignorance. You’ve proven far more clever than that.”
Alizeh felt her heart fail. “Cyrus—”
