“Your inconstancy is maddening,” Kamran cried, no longer able to control his anger. “First you out her to the papers, then you demand to save her? Have I not made it clear that she is a traitor to this empire?”
“Forgive me, sire, I don’t mean to be maddening—Mother is always telling me how maddening I am, and I see now that there might be some merit to her claims, but I confess I’m also confused by your anger, for I’d hoped— You see, I heard the way you called after her last night, and I’d thought maybe you, too, would worry about what that terrible man might do to her—”
“You trouble yourself for no reason.” Kamran was furious, and he fixed the young woman with an unrelenting stare. “I am not concerned about her well-being. In fact, your confessions this morning have only cemented my certainty that she should be hanged, drawn, and quartered. That she was wise enough to prey upon your emotions is proof only of a tactical manipulation, and certainly not evidence of a generous heart. You have been exploited, Miss Huda. Accept this fact. She is not your friend.”
This last line seemed to strike Miss Huda with a powerful force, for she took a step back, trembling a little as shelooked away. She met the prince’s eyes only briefly before averting her gaze again, her own eyes glinting with emotion.
“Quite right,” she whispered. “Yes, I hear it now—I hear how it sounds when I say it aloud. What reason would she have to show me kindness if not to mock and abuse me? It would certainly align more closely with all my other experiences. I am hard-pressed, you know”—she looked up, attempted a laugh—“to find friends among my peers. I was perhaps too eager to believe she meant the kind things she’d said to me. Forgive me, sire, I am terribly stupid.”
Kamran did not know what to do with this watery display. He felt frozen in the face of it, uncertain what to do with his hands, where to rest his eyes. He thought perhaps he should deny the unkindness she’d leveled against herself—but he, too, thought Miss Huda was terribly stupid.
“Thank you for the carpet bag,” he said quietly. “You may go.”
“Yes.” She took a sharp breath, struggling to pull herself together. Then she unlatched the carpet bag on the ground between them, withdrew an armful of wrinkled green fabric from its depths, and bundled it in her arms. “Thank you, sire, for your—”
A small insect shot up from the inside of the open luggage with a speed that startled them both. Miss Huda gasped and swatted at her face, but the pest launched itself across the room, knocking itself against tables and lamps as if it might be drunk. Its tiny body ping-ponged off nearly every surface before it suddenly bopped Kamran in the forehead, triggering a flash of memory from the night before.
Hazan.
The insect was disoriented. It was trying to escape, now throwing its hard body against the closed door over and over in a failed attempt to find the keyhole. Cautiously, Kamran moved closer to the exit, and in a swift motion, trapped the tired insect under his hand. He felt the bug struggle against his skin, and carefully scooped it into his palm, where it pelted the inside of his hand with the frenetic motions of a small firework.
“What on earth?” Miss Huda wondered aloud. “How strange—I’ve been trying to catch that little thing all morning.”
Kamran turned to her with a frown. “This bee came from your house?”
“I found it buzzing around my room when I returned home from the ball.” She wiped at her damp eyes. “I tried to catch it several times, but it was too fast. And it’s not a bee, sire, it’s a firefly. I saw its little bottom glowing in the dark. I can only imagine it snuck into the carpet bag when I opened it.”
“A firefly?” Kamran frowned, then froze, the gears in his mind spinning wildly. Why did this revelation seem so significant? Why did it sound so familiar?
“Sire?” said Miss Huda, her brows furrowed in dismay. “Are you quite all right?”
But Kamran did not hear her.
“That lyingbastard,” he said softly.
Ten
“DARLING? DARLING, YOU MUST WAKEup.”
Alizeh felt the press of a delicate hand against her forehead, skin so soft the sensation was almost bizarre. Her nose filled with the scent of something decadent and floral; she heard the rush of silk, the soft clatter of jewels, bracelets stacking and retreating with each caress of her hair. For the length of the most divine moment, Alizeh thought she’d been reunited with her own mother.
She was delirious.
She seemed unable to move even a finger; her limbs were leaden, her body cemented to the rug. Alizeh had never made it to the bed; soon after registering the price she’d pay for leaving her carpet bag behind, any lingering adrenaline had drained from her body. Alizeh, who’d already been struggling with exhaustion, was reduced to a faint, trembling husk. Her knees gave out; she collapsed to the floor, her fatigue so acute she could no longer stave off the thirst for sleep; she faded in and out of consciousness, her mind braiding the sounds and scenes of reality with dreams until she could no longer tell the difference.
It was a delicious sleep.
She’d drifted off in a shaft of sunlight that baked her slowly as she slept; and though Alizeh had no idea howlong she’d dozed, it felt as if she’d spent only a few minutes unconscious, and already someone was demanding she wake.
Just then, she could imagine nothing crueler.
“My dear, we haven’t much time, and I must speak with you.” Another stroke of a soft hand, this time against her cheek, and Alizeh nearly drifted off all over again. She was groggy and disoriented and desperately did not want to wake. She wanted to lie here forever, or at least until the sun had cooked her frozen flesh evenly.
“No,” she croaked.
There was the sound of a soft laugh. “I know you’re very tired, my dear, but so long as Cyrus thinks you’re sleeping, he’ll not suspect us of conspiring. You must wake, darling, for I must speak to you quickly.”
The nosta awoke, flaring against the delicate skin of her breasts, a reminder that it was still tucked away in her damaged corset, and a warning of the truth in Sarra’s words. Only fear was strong enough to compel Alizeh to consciousness, and even then the effort was agonizing. Her eyes were so dry that they burned as her lids peeled apart, her head pounding with exhaustion and dehydration even as her slumbering heart rate began to spike.
