The racket in my brain quieted. Just enough to let me think.
The tension bled out of me, replaced by an ice so cold, I half expected my breath to fog in front of me. “A few nights in my bed seem to have clouded your judgment, soldier,” I said with deadly calm. “Allow me to rectify that. I am your queen. Not your lover and certainly not your friend.”
Slowly, he turned back to me, brows low. His cheek glowed red even in the dim candlelight, a rosy counterpart to the purple bruise along his other cheek.
But I wasn’t finished. “You will only address me as ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘my queen.’ To do otherwise is an insult to the crown and the gods. You accompany me not because of our romantic entanglement but because you are the only guard here.”
He huffed a humorless laugh and dully repeated, “Romantic entanglement.”
“Watch yourself, Jasim.”
He gazed down at me, face now devoid of all emotion. He gave one curt nod. “Apologies,Your Majesty. It will not happen again.”
“Good.” That feeling in my chest splintered wider. I ignored it. “To the Temple of Shaya, then.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He pushed his shoulders back and led me silently through the inn to the back door, where a pair of camels idled. Jasim helped me onto mine, fingers stiff around my waist, before swinging up into his saddle.
King Zaid had used violence his entire reign. To conquer, to hold on to his power, sometimes simply for the fun of it. Besides my own beatings, I’d also witnessed him strike advisors, emissaries, anyone who stepped even a single toe out of line. As queen and Gods-Chosen, it would be natural for me to strike those who disobeyed or disrespected me as well.
The Gods-Chosen was where Jasim’s devotion rested, anyway. The same was true for my maids and the palace nobles and everyone who looked at me with love instead of disdain. Those who didn’t fear or hate me loved only the divine figure they saw. Notme. And yet they were surprised when I acted as one. Hypocrites and liars, the whole lot of them.
But knowing that didn’t lessen the burn of guilt that tried to rise. I pushed it down, down, down. The Gods-Chosen didn’t feel guilt; she didn’t need it.
“May I have permission to speak, my queen?”
I fought a wince at the overly proper words. “Yes.”
“The Temple of Shaya is technically considered part of the Wastelands. Perhaps it would be safer to travel to Wethai. That far south, there will be no chance of the Kaldfolk finding you. Sacrifices to Shaya can be made there.” He kept his eyes focused straight ahead on the horizon.
He wasn’t entirely wrong. It was why I had not personally been to my father’s temple before. Too dangerous, the king always claimed. Given that his venture into the Wastelands had been a heaping shit show, I hadn’t entirely disregarded that bit of advice.
But Shaya had not saved me tonight. Healwayssaved me. From assassination attempts, from bullies during my training with the Khada Guard, from choking on an olive pit or tripping over a stair. I was his beloved daughter. I burned countless candles for him, prayed to him multiple times a day. More than once, I’d developed bruises on my knees from how long I’d sat in communion with him.
There was a reason he had gone suddenly silent. I needed to find out what it was.
Maybe I had upset him somehow. Maybe he resented me for not going to his temple before he bestowed me with such power. Or maybe it was something else, but whatever the case, I’d beg forgiveness. Accept his penance. Reinforce our connection ahead of my birthday.
I could not go through the Igniting without him. Because I wanted him with me—and because I was not sure if it would physically work without him.Hehad to bestow the power on me. If he was not there to do it…
I needed to get to the temple.
I sighed tiredly. “Not Wethai,” I said to Jasim. “Before the Kaldfolk stormed in, Hamadi made it sound like Prince Ilias wasn’t to be trusted. But we’ll stop in Reeda to collect supplies. Prince Nasir has been a friend to the crown since my birth. He will help us.”
Not to mention I wasn’t exactly drowning in options at the moment: Prince Ilias Bata of Wethai to the south and Prince Anwar Lotfi of Haisab to the west would probably parade me naked through the streets for a good laugh—and Prince Sen Almassi of the Dry Lands would kill me on the spot. They were of the persuasion that Shaya’s daughter was more spawn of evil than savior.
But Nasir. He was loyal. Or as loyal as a jinni-descended prince could be.
Plus, he was on the way.
“And if word of the king’s passing arrives before we do?” Jasim asked.
Well, then we’d be walking straight into a trap. There would be nofriends of the crownif they could don the crown themselves.
“Let us pray that doesn’t happen,” I responded before digging my heels into the camel’s sides and lurching us into movement.
EIGHTSAMIRA
Sitting in the saddle somehow hurt more today than yesterday. My backside ached with every step the horse took.
