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“It is not. But I am doing much better now.”
Rahim nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. And I’m sure Irsa will be happy as well.”
Jahandar cleared his throat again, looking away.
Rahim’s eyes cast a sudden chill of judgment. “Since you arrived from Rey, Irsa has spent most days in the far corner by the fountain, painting or reading from a book. I believe it’s one you gave her.”
“Of course. The book on tea,” Jahandar remarked absentmindedly.
Rahim bowed his head in a curt gesture. When he began striding down the vestibule once more, Jahandar held up his palms to stall him.
“Why are your hands burned?” Rahim asked with alarm, glancing at Jahandar’s blistered fingers.
Jahandar shook his head, flicking away Rahim’s distress like a bothersome gnat. “I mishandled a lamp while I was translating a text. Don’t worry yourself, Rahim-jan. I already prepared a salve in my room.”
Rahim frowned. “Please be careful, Jahandar-effendi. Shazi will rail at me if something happens to you while you’re here at Taleqan. And if Shahrzad is unhappy, Tariq will be furious. Dealing with hellions of their ilk falls rather low on my list of things to enjoy. Like scorpions and quicksand.”
Jahandar sighed piteously, scuffing his feet. “You must find me quite pathetic as a father, do you not?”
“You love your children. That is obvious. But I ca
“You’ve always been so good, Rahim-jan. Such a wonderful friend to Tariq and to my Shahrzad.” Jahandar studied Rahim in an unusually intense ma
Rahim’s features stiffened, discomfort settling between the lines. “Thank you.”
An awkward silence fell between the two men.
And Jahandar knew it was time to take action. For a new kind of test was at hand. The kind he had always dreaded, ever since he was a boy. So he forced back the needling part of him that wanted to shuffle away to the safety of the shadows. Those last remaining traces that babbled from lofty corners reminded him he was not a fighter.
Just an old man with a book.
Jahandar’s jaw squared under his wispy beard. “I know I have very little right to ask anything of anyone, Rahim al-Din Walad. But as a father, I have no choice.”
Rahim waited, drawing in a careful breath.
“I know Tariq left Taleqan because of Shahrzad,” Jahandar continued. “There is no way for me to know what he has pla
Rahim listened to Jahandar with quiet consideration. “I’m sorry, but this is not my decision to make, Jahandar-effendi.”
“I—I understand.”
“But I will take you to see Tariq when the time comes.”
Jahandar nodded, a peculiar, martial light entering his gaze. “Thank you. Thank you, Rahim-jan.”
Now Rahim’s smile was genuine. He put a hand on Jahandar’s shoulder. Then he bowed his head and lifted his fingertips to his brow.
Jahandar remained in the archway of the vestibule, pleased by his success—the passing of this test.
He looked down at his palms. The newest blisters formed over the scars of the last, and they smarted at the slightest touch. Seared with the promise of pain to come. His skin was hard and crusted beneath his nails, and he could no longer sacrifice the sleeves of his remaining garments to this endeavor.
It was time.
Jahandar stared across the courtyard at the entrance to the kitchens.
A mere hare would not do. Not this time.
He needed more.
Always more.
THE FALCON AND THE TIGER
SHAHRZAD STOOD AT THE MARBLE RAILING OF HER balcony, overlooking the pools of water below. A midday sun reflected back in their glistening surfaces, rippling with each passing breeze.
But this was not of particular interest to Shahrzad.
The arriving guests were far more fascinating.
It was a veritable menagerie of the absurd.
One nervous-looking young man entered the courtyard with a bevy of attendants, each waiting to remove a particular article of his clothing. First one leather mankalah. Then another. Then his rida’. Then his boots, which were quickly replaced by a pair of pristine sandals. Each of the servants stashed away the garments in methodical order before the young man ventured a single step from his steed.
Another man—the size of three men put together—swayed atop an elephant sporting hooked tusks, its grey trunk trailing across the gritty granite pavestones below. This man had an oiled mustache with ends that twitched at the slightest movement, and each of his fingers displayed immense rings of a different gemstone, glittering with abandon in the rays of the sun.
Shahrzad rested her chin in her palm and stifled a giggle.
Another nobleman galloped through the entrance on a creature Shahrzad had never seen before. It resembled a horse in size and build, yet its coat was covered in the strangest pattern of black and white stripes. The animal stomped its hooves and snorted, flinging its neck to and fro. As soon as Shahrzad saw it, she gasped and called Despina to her side.
Despina shook her head as she stood next to Shahrzad. “You really shouldn’t be out here.”
“Why not?” Shahrzad waved a flippant hand. “It’s perfectly safe. All weapons are surrendered at the palace gate.”
“I wish I could make you understand. You’re not a girl on a lark, watching an amusing display. You’re their queen.”
“They came here because of that wretched sultan from Parthia, not because of me.” Shahrzad leaned farther over the railing. “Despina, did you see that imbecile on the camel? The one with the brass bells and the finger in his nose?”
Despina’s eyes clouded over.
And Shahrzad ignored the lines creasing her handmaiden’s forehead.
Ignored them because she needed a lighthearted moment. Needed it enough to appear foolish, just for an instant, so she would not have to deal with the reality of her life in a palace of polished marble, with flashing gems at her throat and a shimmering pool of water at her feet.
In a marriage rife with growing tension . . .
With a husband who would not touch her. Nor venture near her, much less share his secrets.
Shahrzad clenched her teeth.
Ever since that night two weeks ago, when she’d told the tale of Tala and Mehrdad, Khalid had come to have di
Then he would depart, and she would not see him until the following night.
“Your husband is not a forgiving man.”
Shahrzad gripped the stone railing in both hands, the blood leaching from her fingertips. “Who are all these fools, anyway?” She tried to smile at Despina.
Despina’s lips puckered into a moue. “Most of them are the caliph’s ba
A bubble of air caught at the top of Shahrzad’s throat. She twisted away from the railing to look at her handmaiden.
“What?” she whispered.
Despina canted her head to one side. “I told you. You never listen. This gathering is not just for the Sultan of Parthia. The caliph wants to introduce you as his queen. He invited every nobleman in the kingdom to share in the spectacle. To meet you.”