Page 41 of A Filling of Fables and Firelight

“Of course.” He nodded swiftly. “I can make my case to the judges. Between her performance in the challenges and my preference, surely they’ll see that she’s the right choice.”

The vizier cleared his throat. “It may not be quite as easy as you think. Rana never took part.”

“What?” Shock and confusion made Kamaran’s knees feel suddenly weak. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember when I suggested that you find a seamstress to have on hand for the contestants?”

The truth hit him with excruciating clarity, and yet he still fought against it, as if he could change reality by sheer force of will. “I hired Dan. It was petty, but it was the only bit of power I could wield in the situation.”

“And, being a tailor, he sent the excellent seamstress he has on staff instead.”

Kamaran slowly sank until he was perched on the edge of the throne. “You knew this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“At first, I assumed you knew. Then, when it became clear that she was catching your interest, I wanted to see how it would play out.”

“So all this time that I’ve been falling for her—all this time I’ve had the illusion of choice—she was never an option?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Zamar, to his credit, wore a look of keen regret on his face. “She comes from an eligible family. Her grandfather served as vizier with me many years ago. In fact, had she submitted her name in the first round, it’s more than likely she would have secured a spot in the contest.”

“But she didn’t,” Kamaran said flatly.

“She didn’t,” Zamar confirmed. “As I said, Your Majesty, you’ll have to convince the council of judges. However, given her family credentials and the fact that she has—albeit rather tangentially—taken part in the Contest, I think there is hope.”

He shook his head slowly. His mind felt strange, as if he were watching everything from the outside, and his stomach rolled like he was going to be sick. “She didn’t submit her name. She never intended to marry me.”

“Maybe not at first,” Jasper volunteered from his corner. “But she’s never shared her Adhavian Delight with anyone before.”

Zamar’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Wait until the announcement is over, then speak to Rana. I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

Kamaran watched with numb detachment as the judges announced Nour’s exit from the competition, moving Yasmin and Aliyah into the final round. Somehow, he managed to stand and wave, smiling through a mask of calm indifference. When he had performed his role to completion, he quietly made his way to the doors, escaping the excited crowd as quickly as he could.

For them, the next week would be full of anticipation as they wondered and debated over who would be their queen.

For him, he could very well be marching to a slow, painful death.

He barged into Rana’s sitting room, not bothering to stop and knock against the doorframe. “You’re a seamstress,” he blurted as his greeting.

She looked up from her spot on the divan with an amused grin. “You’re a Sultan. Good afternoon to you, too.” Rana’s eyes took him in appreciatively. “You look nice.”

He wanted to bask in that look, to let it mean possibly more than it did, but he pushed it aside. “You didn’t tell me you were a seamstress.”

Her grin slowly morphed into a frown of confusion. “I assumed you knew. You hired me, after all.”

“I hired Dan.”

“Who passed the assignment on to me.”

He tugged at the ends of his hair. “You said you were here for the contest!”

“Because I am. Again: you hired me.”

“I didn’t actually look at the contracts. Why would I, when I can’t read them? I just heard that Zamar had the situation taken care of and left it at that.”

“What did you think I was doing here?” Rana’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. “You thought I was a contestant, didn’t you?” She laughed humorlessly. “Because of course there can be no explanation for a woman to be in your palace if not to throw herself at you.”

Kamaran winced at her barbed attack and let his hands fall dejectedly to his sides. He closed his eyes. “I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not, Kamaran.” Rana’s soft voice came from much closer than she had been before, and he opened his eyes to find her standing right in front of him. She squeezed his arm. “That was unkind of me to say, and I’m sorry. Sometimes I overreact and say the first thing that comes to mind, no matter whether it’s true or not.”