It couldn’t be. I stepped back, glancing over my shoulder as if someone else might see the offensive words. I’d assumed after my Gift formed that somewhere in my family’s lineage there was Jinni blood, but not...
Was my mother... did she mean that she’d been Gifted like me? Or what if—no.It’s not possible, I repeated to myself, but it didn’t feel very convincing. Had my mother been a full-blooded Jinni?
I flipped through the book, barely remembering to be gentle with the worn parchment, searching for another note in the margins.
The pages upon pages of history ended and genealogies began.Households.They listed family trees in tiny print, starting with two names and expanding into hundreds, crammed onto the page like ants swarming a crumb.
I almost missed it.
There, at the very bottom of one of the family trees, directly under two full-blooded Jinni’s names, another descendant’s name was scribbled in...
My mother’s.
CHAPTER 3
Arie
WHEN I STRODE INTOthe grand hall the next morning, I was in no mood to greet anyone. I had my ladies-in-waiting surround me instead of hanging back, creating a natural buffer and giving me a reprieve from inane conversation.
After last night’s revelation, I’d flung the book back to the title page, dropped the heavy glass overtop, and raced back to my quarters in a panic. My mother was from Jinn. A full-blooded Jinni. Which made me only half-human and half—I couldn’t even finish the thought. What were the implications of this? My fatherhadto have known. Or did he? He would’ve told me, would’ve wanted to prepare me, if he’d known himself. Right? And what about the court? If they knew—if even one person knew—they’d almost certainly be watching me in secret. Waiting for me to reveal a latent Gift. If I hadn’t accidentally already done so. I’d lain awake the entire night tryingnotto think about it. And now I felt like walking death.
I didn’t notice the servant approaching until he spoke. “Your father requests your presence in the throne room,” he said, bowing. I nodded, moving past him toward the high table for breakfast. “He said it’s urgent,” the young man added before I could sit.
I paused, letting go of my skirts. “What could possibly be so important that it can’t wait until I’ve had a hot meal?” I ignored his thoughts about my deep blue dress and the strip of skin it revealed at the smallest part of my waist. Lifting my hands, I let the dozens of silver bracelets clink together noisily to catch his attention.
He cleared his throat, clasping his hands together as he bowed again. “I believe it’s because we have a guest. King Amir of Sagh.”
I dismissed him, and the servant hurried away. Heading toward the throne room and leaving my ladies-in-waiting behind, I barely noticed the people I passed. Why was the neighboring king here?
Though King Amir was as old as my father and his dark hair beginning to gray, his face was more youthful with thick black brows, few wrinkles, and a long nose that made him look regal. He was wealthy enough to bribe anyone he pleased, which he often did. The king of Sagh should be likeable. Yet, no matter how nice he seemed, I often left his presence feeling oddly uncomfortable.
Because Amir had a Jinni’s Gift.
Leaving behind the grand tables where courtiers feasted and a storyteller entertained them, I followed the long hall to the throne room, but paused outside. I took a deep fortifying breath before pushing through the heavy door.
The throne room felt larger without the crowds. Quiet. As the door closed, the wave of thoughts died down like the tide going out until there was only the softest whisper. They grew stronger as I approached the small room at the back, where I spied two people through the open door.
