Without warning Kamran felt his body flash hot and cold, nerves prickling not unlike a colony of ants stretching their legs under his skin. It was a discomfort that made him want to jerk out of his own body. Kamran’s impatience, then, was a symptom of inaction; his need for action a consequence of controlling his fear; his mounting fear a direct result of a conclusion his mind had recently drawn:
He was running out of time.
He could not explainwhyhe was so sure of this fact; he could cobble together only feeling and memory as evidence: a sea of nobles speaking callously about his paralyzed body; Zahhak pronouncing his death without substantiation; the lack of action proceeding his reanimation.
Perhaps it was enough that, upon Zahhak’s eventual return to the castle with a Diviner in tow, the defense minister had been able to hide neither his astonishment nor his anger upon discovering the heir to Ardunia was still alive. Kamran had bid the man fetch help with all possible haste; instead, hours and hours Zahhak had taken to return to the palace, during which time the hateful minister had no doubt convinced himself that Kamran would’ve succumbed to death.
Instead, he’d discovered, with an unmistakable shock, theprince reclining leisurely in a copper tub, rinsing the night’s travesties from his body.
Inexperienced Kamran might’ve been, but he was seasoned enough to know when enemies were conspiring. Too soon, he feared, the nobles would assemble an argument strong enough to steal his crown, his empire, hisbirthright—
Unable to stand still any longer, Kamran cleared his throat, and Sina drew back at once.
“Your Highness,” said the valet, bowing his head. “Forgive me. I was forced to dispose of yesterday’s garments, though I’ve pressed and scented all else you wore earlier in the day. Should you require it, your cloak awaits you in your chamber.”
Kamran merely nodded, never looking away from his own reflection, not even when Sina moved soundlessly to the exit, the door snicking shut behind him.
Only when he was sure the valet had gone did Kamran close his eyes, allowing his shoulders to fall for the length of a single heartbeat as he drew a deep, bracing breath. There was a great deal to be done in the hours ahead, and every bit of it was urgent.
There was one week before he could be crowned king.
One week, during which he knew he’d be fighting the machinations of his own officials in addition to all else—and he intended to devote his days to righting the disasters that had befallen his home, his throne, his life itself. But first, there was a lingering matter to address.
He had to kill Hazan.
Six
ALIZEH’S INSTINCTS SHARPENED AS Adistinguished older woman appeared as if out of nowhere before her, floating down a dew-touched path with an elegance she instantly admired. The stranger’s powder-blue gown was adorned with fringed epaulets constructed entirely of sapphires, layers of decadent satin rippling gently around her ample curves in the morning breeze. Her hair was the color of fire itself, a shocking wave of red and gold sparingly streaked with gray, the silky locks swept over a single shoulder and clasped at intervals with diamond rings.
Her beauty was breathtaking—irrefutably so—but it was in the woman’s eyes that Alizeh found reason for true astonishment, for there lived in her expression an unguarded enthusiasm that surprised Alizeh so completely she took a step back. A terrifying suspicion had risen up inside her, but even as Alizeh glimpsed the diadem atop the woman’s head, she reasoned with herself that she might be wrong—that the lady drawing toward her now could be anyone, and certainly wouldn’t be—
“Mother, wait—”
Alizeh’s body seized at the sound of Cyrus’s voice, panic causing her heart to pound furiously in her chest.
Cyrus came crashing between them—one hand raisedas if to intervene—when he abruptly recoiled, as if struck, upon sighting Alizeh. His eyes widened in something that could only be described as alarm.
Heat exploded in her body.
Rarely did Alizeh blush so deeply as to feel true warmth, but this humiliation was acute indeed—for she’d nearly forgotten what she looked like.
Moments ago she’d taken inventory of herself and dismissed the results, comforting her pride with the assurance that she’d meet with no one new at this early hour. Now, the burgeoning rays of heat had melted the frost from her hair and eyelashes, sunlight painting her so completely there was no hope of escaping scrutiny.
Alizeh looked like a woman of ill repute.
She was soaking wet; the scraps of her twice-incinerated gown were now entirely see-through, the translucent silk suctioned to her dripping body in a manner so scandalous it was somehow more shocking than a display of nudity. It didn’t help that her stockings had disintegrated in the fire, or that the loose, drenched locks of her hair were so heavy they now grazed her waist, lapping at her curves and emphasizing the gentle swell of her hips, her glistening legs exposed up to her thighs. Little else was demanded of the imagination when her breasts were all but bared to the world, spared only an inch of modesty by a corset so scorched and waterlogged it had slipped to a dangerous degree, one unfortunate movement away from exposing her in an imitation of something so erotic Alizeh thought she might expire on the spot.
Instead, she seemed paralyzed.
Alizeh could only stand there, frozen in a nauseated sort of humiliation, as Cyrus—and the woman Alizeh had to assume was his mother—silently appraised her. Rationally, Alizeh understood that the opinion of this unknown woman should not matter to her, but it was no use; her dignity chafed.
The older woman quickly recovered, her smile wavering only a moment before it came back stronger; in fact, of the two who stood before her, it was Cyrus who appeared truly disturbed.
Alizeh chose to focus instead on his mother.
The latter soon cleared the distance between them, taking Alizeh’s hands with a confounding familiarity.
“You must be Alizeh,” she said, nearly blinding her with a pair of familiar blue eyes. “I am Sarra. I can’t tell you how happy I am you’ve finally agreed to come.”
