“I know.” She sighed, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. “It all appears rather badly, doesn’t it?”
“It appears you’ve been physically harmed by the Tulanian king,” said Hazan, who struggled now to moderate his voice. “Is this true?”
Alizeh winced. “Technically, yes.”
Again Hazan swore loudly.
“But it’s not as bad as it –” she started to say, before thinking better of it. “That is, to be fair, we both did harm to each other – In fact,I might’ve done worse to him if only afforded the opportunity.”
“You mean you were involved in an altercation?” Kamran now. “With the southern king?”
“And did you aim to kill him, Your Majesty? Were you attempting to flee the castle?”
“No,” Alizeh said, then hesitated. The throb at the base of her skull was making it difficult to think. “Well, yes. I mean, naturally, at first, I tried several times to kill him –”
“Wait.”
At the tortured sound of Kamran’s voice, Alizeh looked up. She found him staring at her with a pained expression, something between anger and anguish.
“Forgive me,” he said, “it’s only that I need to understand – If you tried to kill him – Are you saying it’s possible you didn’t leave with him voluntarily?”
The question was so strange, Alizeh fell silent.
“Leave with him voluntarily?” she finally echoed, a notch forming between her brows. “You mean did I leave Arduniavoluntarilywith the king of Tulan?”
Kamran nodded.
“Of course not,” she said, flinching as if physically stunned. The accusation was so insulting it lit like a firework in the tinder of her dry mind, supplying her a badly needed surge of adrenaline. “How could you ask such a question? I didn’t even know who he was – He tricked me into coming here –”
“I told you!” came a chipper voice. Miss Huda was on tiptoe, holding a hand in the air like an overeager student. “I told you, sire, that she didn’t know who he was!”
“Quiet,” came Deen’s loud whisper, shushing the young woman as he tugged down her hand. “Does this strike you as the time for gloating?”
“Yes, well, I did tell him, though, didn’t I?” Miss Huda crossed her arms. “I tried to tell you all –”
“I believed you, miss,” said Omid urgently. “I never doubted.”
“No, you didn’t,” came Miss Huda’s surprisingly tender reply. “You are the dearest boy.”
Alizeh’s thoughts were in chaos.
It had never occurred to her that anyone might question her reasons for tearing off into the night on the back of a Tulanian dragon. She’d been in the grasp of powerful magic, had screamed fearfully for her life for all to hear. That any person with a reasonable mind would attach a malicious explanation to her actions was baffling. She’ddefendedKamran from Cyrus – had risked her life to protect him from the southern king’s final, fatal blow – and still he’d doubted her intentions?
Knowing her own heart as she did, it seemed cruel to Alizeh that her good deeds had gone so quickly uncredited, that at the first chance to recast her in a poor light, Kamran had seized upon the opportunity. It made her realize how little she and Kamran knew each other – how tenuous was the bond between them. Only someone with a shallow understanding of her character could be so easily persuaded to malign her, and it was fortunate, then, that the guileless shock now printed upon her face was clear enough to all.
“I did not doubt you, Your Majesty,” said Hazan softly.
She drew a breath, sparing Hazan a look of affection before turning to Kamran. “But you,” she said to the prince. “You thought I ran off with him after – after all he did? You thought me capable of playing a role in the atrocities of that evening?” Despite her own injured feelings, her heart couldn’t help but soften at the dawning horror in his eyes. After all he’d endured – what he must’ve thought of her. How he must’ve suffered.
“Oh, Kamran,” she said. “How could you think that?” Then, more quietly: “How tortured you must’ve been to think that.”
He absorbed her words with a stillness so complete it worried her, thawing only to close his eyes, to swallow. He appeared suddenly ashen with shame. Kamran was quiet a long moment, unmoving save the rapid rise and fall of his chest, and when he opened his eyes again there was a rage burning in the depths of his gaze, an inferno of fury that threatened to burn him down with it.
“I’ll kill him,” he said softly. “I’ll gut him open and tear out his organs, and I’ll make certain he lives long enough to endure the torture. When I’m done with him, he’ll be begging for death. He will die, and he will die of his own agony.” Kamran reached out an unsteady hand to touch her, his fingers skimming the tender bruise on her cheek. “You may depend upon it.”
Alizeh shook her head in a sharp motion. “No,” she said, stunned. “Kamran – you can’t kill him –”
“It’s what he deserves.”
