Zafir’s chin rested on top of my head. “I spoke with Rogan and he told me something similar. Apparently, he allocates a certain amount of money to have Julian entertain any women that might have information of interest to Parliament, and Julian relays that information to his father in exchange for an additional allowance.”
I let out a noise of disgust. “So he only pretends to be interested in women to smooth talk them into giving him information?”
“So it would seem.” His arms tightened around me. “It was never done in any official capacity through Parliament, but it makes sense. Rogan always seemed a little too well-informed. Did you ever explicitly tell Julian that you aren’t a duchess?”
I strained to remember. When he came up to me while Zafir was in the meeting, I had been so frantic and desperate that I couldn’t remember exactly what I’d said. “Maybe? I told him that it was a genie that sent me here, but he didn’t seem to believe me. What did they say in the meeting about me?”
Zafir sighed. “I won’t lie—they’re angry and they’re planning on convicting you. The little stunt with Julian making advances on the tzar’s wife made it so we had to table the discussion, but they are working on an official decision right now. Odds are that it will be a minimum of five years in prison unless your bail is paid, which would be a considerable amount.”
Yet more money I didn’t have. I drew a ragged breath and broke away from Zafir, reaching for my mirror. “What about Nadia?” I turned it over three times, waiting for my sister’s face to fill the glass, but nothing happened. Was she simply busy? Or what if the wanted posters had encouraged someone to turn in Nadia and she was unable to answer?
“When are they going to take me?” The urge to run was becoming unbearable. I couldn’t just wait for them to come and take me to prison. I needed to hide. I needed an escape.
“I don’t know. It could be right now or it could be in several weeks.” Zafir caught my hands before I could start pacing. His grip was firm and grounding. “Alia. Look at me.”
I tried, but my thoughts were skittering in too many directions at once: prison, Nadia, Brisden, and the mirror that was resolutely refusing to show me my sister. Zafir hooked his finger under my chin and drew my face around so he could look at me.
“We’ll figure it out,” he told me calmly.
“How?” I burst out. “How can we figure this out? Wedon’t have any money, we don’t have passage, and in prison, I won’t have any way of contacting Nadia.”
His thumb brushed slow circles over my knuckles. “I still have some options,” he said.
That only made it worse. “Maybe you do, but I don’t. You have influence and good standing with Parliament. I have nothing.” I swallowed hard and barely managed to say, “You won’t be there with me.”
“No,” he admitted. “But I can do something better than that.”
He guided me back toward the sofa and pressed me down gently, as though afraid I might bolt if he let go. He crouched in front of me so we were at eye level.
“I’ll help you,” he said. “I swear it. But you have to stay.”
My chest ached. “Stay and wait for them to lock me away, you mean?”
“Stay and let me fight for you,” he corrected. “Just like you said, I still have some leverage. It might take a little time, but I have a few favors I haven’t called in yet.” His jaw hardened. “But if you run and I can’t find you, I can’t help you.”
“What if they come for me tonight?” I whispered.
“Then I’ll stall.” His eyes flicked to the door. “Our prisons aren’t horrible, you know. If my plan takes a little longer than I’m hoping, we can still figure things out and you’ll be safe there.”
Something in my chest twisted painfully. “And what if I choose to leave before they find me?”
His mouth parted, then closed again. He stood abruptly and turned away, running a hand through his hair. “Then I’d hate every second of it,” he said roughly. “But I won’t stop you.”
The silence stretched between us, heavy and fragile.
My hands were shaking as exhaustion crashed down all at once, and Zafir noticed. He crossed to his desk, uncorked a small vial, and poured a few drops into a cup of water.
I gave a shaky smile. “I hope that’s not another infatuation elixir.”
“It’s a sleeping draught,” he said. “You need rest.”
I was too tired to protest. The draught tasted faintly of lavender, and my limbs began to feel heavy almost immediately.
Zafir sat beside me as the room softened at the edges. He guided my head to his shoulder when it lolled, one arm wrapping around me without hesitation.
“I’ll handle Parliament,” he murmured. “You just stay here with me.”
“Zafir?” My voice was already slowing.
