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Understandable.
As they were not concerned about an impending drought.
Khalid ran his hand across the parchment, sca
Such great minds at his disposal. Such vast intelligence at his fingertips.
He was the Caliph of Khorasan. The supposed King of Kings. He commanded a renowned force of soldiers and, for twelve years, he’d trained with some of the best warriors in the kingdom. Twelve years spent honing his craft to become one of the finest swordsmen in Rey. Many considered him a sound strategist as well.
Yet, with all these seeming attributes, he was still powerless to protect what mattered—
His people.
His queen.
He could not reconcile the two. Not without a sacrifice beyond the scope of consideration.
Khalid reflected on the consequences of such selfish behavior. How his unwillingness to consider the life of one girl against so many others would be construed. Would be judged.
Many young girls had already given their lives to this curse. Had died because of Khalid’s failure to notice the profound suffering in his first wife. His failure to care.
What right had he to decide whose life was more valuable? Who was he, after all?
A boy-king of eighteen. A cold, unfeeling bastard.
A monster.
He closed his eyes. His hands curled into fists above the parchment.
He would not let the whims of one grief-stricken lunatic dictate his actions any longer.
He would decide. Even if it was abominably selfish. Even if he was judged and punished for it, into eternity.
He would never be a man who failed to care again. He would fight to protect what mattered to him, at all cost.
Save the one thing that mattered most.
Khalid signed the decree to begin construction on the new system of aqueducts. He set it aside and proceeded to the next order of business. As he reviewed the document, the doors to the alcove swung open without a word of warning, and his cousin burst through the entrance.
Khalid’s eyebrows rose at this brash display. When his uncle followed a moment later, wearing an expression even more grim than usual, Khalid inhaled and leaned back against the cushions.
The look on Jalal’s face was . . . unsettling.
“I assume this is important.” Khalid focused his attention on his cousin.
When Jalal said nothing, Khalid sat up.
“Sayyidi—” his uncle began.
“There must be an explanation.” Jalal’s voice faltered as his knuckles clenched white around the battered scroll in his left palm.
“Jalal-jan—”
“Please, Father,” Jalal rasped over his shoulder. “Let me speak!”
Khalid stood up. “What are you talking about?”
“Promise me you’ll give her a chance to explain. I’ve never known you to break your word. Promise me.”
“Give him the report.” His uncle edged closer to Jalal with a weary, yet determined set to his jaw.
“Not until he promises.” Jalal’s insistence bordered on manic.
Khalid strode from behind his desk, his posture rigid. “I am not promising anything until you tell me what this is about.”
Jalal hesitated.
“Captain al-Khoury?”
“Shazi . . . and that boy.” It was a broken whisper.
An icy fist wrapped around Khalid’s throat. Yet he reached out a steady hand. “Give me the report.”
“Promise me, Khalid.”
“I’m not certain why you think I owe you a promise on her behalf.” His voice was unwavering, despite the chilling vise.
“Then promise her.”
“What I promise Shahrzad is none of your business. Give me the report.”
Jalal exhaled slowly before handing him the scroll. As Khalid unfurled it, a dark weight settled across his chest, like a portent of doom seeking lasting refuge.
He sca
And again.
“I’m sorry, Khalid-jan.” His uncle was kind. “So very sorry. Even I started to believe—wanted to believe—that she was something more.”
Jalal shook his head and moved toward Khalid. “She is. Please give her a chance to explain.”
“Leave,” Khalid commanded quietly.
“Don’t let your fear and your distrust ruin this.”
His uncle took Jalal by the shoulder.
“She loves you!” Jalal continued, his tone heedless. “This is not what it seems. Maybe it began as something else, but I would bet my life on what it is now. She loves you. Please don’t fall to hate. You are not your father. You are so much more. She is so much more.”
Khalid turned his back on his cousin, crumpling the scroll in his palm.
And the portent of doom unleashed itself on his body, darkening everything in its path—
Destroying an already condemned soul.
• • •
Shahrzad stood at the railing of her balcony, staring up at a sea of winking stars across a soft indigo sky.
She could not bring herself to be alone in her room. Though no traces of carnage remained, it was too soon to lounge within its dimly lit confines, surrounded by the ghosts of skulking shadows.
Shahrzad sighed as she watched a beam of starlight dart across a corner of darkest blue.
She had spent the day wandering the gardens on her own, choosing to forgo Despina’s company in order to contemplate the many revelations of the night before without the distractions of the world around her.
Alas, the truth was not as enlightening as she had hoped.
Instead, it was desolate and ugly and cloaked in even more cruelty than she could have imagined.
Her best friend had been murdered for the sake of revenge—a disgusting, twisted revenge inflicted by a crazed man who had lost his child to an unfortunate turn of events. And he, in turn, had chosen to punish others for his pain.
He had punished Khalid for it.
And Khalid had punished the people of Rey.
Shahrzad took a deep breath.
Everything had spiraled down an endless black well because of one man’s torment.
She studied her hands against the cool stone railing.
That same desire for revenge had brought her to this palace. Had driven her to hate the boy-king she’d blamed for such suffering.
And now here she was, standing on an abyss.
Khalid was still responsible for Shiva’s death. He had given the order. He had sat at his desk and written a letter to Shiva’s family while a soldier cinched the air from her body with a silk cord. He had not stopped them from killing her, as he had with Shahrzad. He had allowed it to happen.
Nothing about the facts had changed.
Yet the picture looked different.
Because Shahrzad knew why. Even though it was horrifying and beyond the realm of possibility, a part of her understood that he’d had little choice.
And that one day, he might be forced to make the same decision about her.
The groan of the doors to her chamber drew her attention. Shahrzad tightened the laces of her shamla and spun from the balcony. She walked into the center of her room. Tapers of warmly scented ambergris were glowing in the corner.
Khalid stood before the entrance, his profile concealed in part by shadow.
She smiled hesitantly.
He remained as still as a statue.
Her brow furrowed. “Hello?” Her voice sounded strange, even to her—more of a question than a welcome.
“Hello.” It was severe and forbidding, hearkening back to a time when stories by lamplight were all they shared. All she could hope to share.
It threw Shahrzad against a wall of ice. “Is something wrong?”
He moved from the darkness toward her.
Something was definitely wrong.
But, though his features were cold and distant, his tiger-eyes rippled with pure emotion.
“Khalid?” Her pulse skipped a beat.
He exhaled with unremitting care. “How long?”