Twenty-three

Mazin's invitation was what we had been waiting for. It gave us entry into the palace, and access to the emperor. And if I felt any trepidation about my reaction to spending more time with Maz, I buried it deep. Being near him would only get me closer to my goal, would only help to destroy him further. Something gathered inside my chest, something dark and thick.

Noor and I sat at the back of our tanga as it pulled through the city streets, the palace looming closer.

A breeze rippled through the canvas of the carriage, and Noor sighed in relief.

"It's hotter than Thohfsa's asshole out here. Why are we wearing so many layers?"

I leaned back against the seat. "Because rich people always wear too many clothes to show off how much money they have," I murmured, my eyes on the palace.

Soon, I'd be standing inside it, back in the place where I was arrested. Back in the halls I was dragged through, where my screams bounced off the cavernous ceilings and no one listened. Back where I met Mazin's eyes and realized for the first time who he truly was—a boy who would destroy everything just to get what he wanted.

The building loomed ahead of us—gleaming white columns of marble like a snow-topped mountain towering over the city. It was so imposing you could see it on the horizon for miles—a reminder that wherever you were, Vahid's power was always present. And with Mazin as his second-in-command, his was too.

As we crested the hill I felt eerily soothed—as if everything solidified in my mind. I glanced over to find Noor staring at the palace too, a frown creasing her forehead, and worry shadowing her eyes. She caught me looking and gave me a rueful smile.

"Are you worried?" I kept my tone light. Though Noor talked about her feelings more than I did, she was always reticent when it came to what happened with Souma and Vahid. As if when she spoke about it, it took her right back to when Souma had died.

"Not worried, not about our plan. More so about controlling myself if I see him."

"Vahid?"

She nodded. "Knowing that I might come face-to-face with him in a few minutes makes me want to tear my hair out. I don't know how I'm going to stop myself from pouring a vial of poison in his chai."

"Now you know how I feel seeing Maz."

She collapsed against the seat and threw her hands over her face. "I have no idea how you kept from throwing the dagger directly at Mazin's heart the first time you saw him."

"Trust me, I wanted to."

"But you stayed so calm. Even afterward. I can barely stop shaking and I haven't even seen the emperor yet."

"I'm not calm." I turned to look at her. "I'm furious. I can hide it well because I'm wearing a face that isn't mine, because I know that when I look at Mazin he has no idea who I am. Because if I don't control the storm raging inside me, then all of this will be for nothing. My father's death will be for nothing. And I can't let him—let any of them—get away with what they've done. I'm not calm, just focused."

"You certainly play your part well. I'm not sure I could control myself the same."

"You will. Once you see Vahid, you will be reminded of why we are here."

She threw me a skeptical glance. "You don't appear affected by anything. You aren't even sweating! Does your body just not produce moisture? You don't cry or sweat? Do you produce saliva?"

I looked away. "I cry."

"Since when? You didn't even weep when you found out your father died."

I opened my mouth to respond but the words had dried up. Baba's face flashed across my mind—a memory of him laughing at something I said over breakfast, as he scooped up his haleem with thick bread, the minced mutton and lentils his favorite morning meal. I couldn't remember our conversation, only his great belly laugh that shook his whole body. My father had been everything to me—a mother when my own was killed, a provider by selling his swords to the emperor he hated when we'd needed the money, a teacher when I'd shown an aptitude for fighting. But what he'd been most of all was a friend. Someone who sat with me in the quiet moments, who laughed with me at breakfast, who gave me advice but never judgment. Crying over the loss of him felt too small.

A silence fell over the carriage that was tight with emotion. Noor looked stricken.

"Dani, I'm sorr—"

"Don't apologize." I sat up straight. "It's true. I didn't cry. There was too much to think about at the time, too much to do. It would have been a waste of tears." I pressed my hands against my thighs, gripping the beaded fabric of my trousers so hard a few of the beads popped off. "When he's avenged, that's when I'll cry. That's when I'll grieve. I just hope I'll have that moment."

She nodded and returned her gaze to the palace. "We will. Souma used to say ‘the bird sees the grain but not the snare.' We'll make them see what they want to see. And they'll be trapped before they even realize it."

"And the plan?"

Noor gave me a familiar grin and rolled her shoulders back. She held up a hand, folding down a finger for every item she checked off. "While you are charming the pants off mister-only-wears-black, I learn what I can about the palace, the head of the guard, and Vahid's routine. And get as much information as I can."

"Exactly." I picked a speck of road dirt from my indigo kameez. The sleeves of my suit were detailed with blooming lotus blossom embroidery, showing off my dark skin like the gold setting of a ruby.

"That one looks nice." Noor nodded to my outfit.

I smiled. "It's Mazin's favorite color."

Noor reared back in mock shock. "You're joking. You mean it's not black?"

I huffed a laugh. "He wears what he wears in service to the emperor. But I know him better than anyone. I know his favorite colors, foods, what he thinks about when he wakes up. I know him."

I exhaled, feeling the words on my tongue, remembering how they used to feel before, when I thought I loved him.

When I was so sure he loved me.

"You used to. You don't know how a person may have changed." Noor's expression turned hard. "He betrayed you. So he must have surprised you."

I sat back in my seat and chewed on the edge of my lip. "He betrayed me, yes. But I grew up with him. I fought with him."

"And still he handed you over to the guards without a second thought."

Noor's voice was matter-of-fact, and even though the words were true, they still felt like rubbing coarse salt in a fresh knife wound.

I hardened my jaw. "You're right. Thank you for helping me to remember the things I cannot see."

"Especially when it comes to Maz." She raised a brow.

My nails bit the flesh of my palms. "It's hard to have perspective where he is concerned," I admitted, though the words were difficult to get out.

"You sounded like a strangled cat saying that."

"It isn't easy admitting my weakness."

"And is he one?"

"A weakness?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, a fat mango. Yes, a weakness."

I stewed over her words. It was foolish of me to try and deny the truth. I had loved Maz for half of my life. The hatred festering inside me was close to obsession. But I couldn't lose sight of the bigger picture, the goals Noor and I both wanted to achieve.

"Yes."

Noor let out a whoosh of breath that whistled between her teeth. "Well, at least you are honest about it. It's more dangerous when everyone is in denial."

"I'm not in danger of falling back in love with him, Noor," I said dryly. "But… I know I am a little blinded when it comes to him. He was the betrayal I never saw coming. He was the one constant I always had, no matter what."

I turned my focus back to the palace looming ever closer, where all my enemies were waiting. "And now he's the one I have to destroy."

The carriage lurched to a stop suddenly, and Noor was thrown forward.

"What—"

Something hit the side of the tanga and my hand went to the talwar at my side. "Get down," I warned her. I crouched down too, peeking over the side of the carriage, to the street beyond. A crowd had gathered, chanting and shouting. They weren't looking at us, but at the palace. A line of soldiers blocked their path, their hands on their swords.

I looked down at the side of the carriage, seeing a rotten, bruised tomato on the stones below.

"Sorry, sahiba," said the driver from the front seat. "The street is blocked off. There are protestors marching." He clicked his tongue in command and the horses began walking backward. The carriage turned around, heading back the way we came.

The crowd grew more irate, hefting stones and refuse at the soldiers.

"What is it?" whispered Noor.

"Protestors," I called back to her. "Against the emperor."

She snorted. "It seems he's already hated by the people of this city."

"That's perfect for us, then."

A rock flew in our direction, and the crowd spied our carriage. I could see the moment their bloodlust found a target. We were wealthy—with our gilt carriage and black stallions—and we had been heading toward the palace. If they couldn't have Vahid, they would have us.

"Maybe not so perfect after all."

Noor watched with wide eyes as the crowd approach us. The shouting grew louder and they pelted the carriage with stones.

Our driver shouted obscenities at them, and I gripped the hilt of my sword.

"Noor, can I do anything to stop them? With the zoraat, I mean."

She shook her head. "No, you are using it to transfigure yourself, each dose has a specific purpose." She clutched the small purse at her side helplessly. "I didn't bring any zoraat with me. I didn't want to chance it in case the emperor searched us."

The driver shouted to the horses and the tanga moved faster, away from the crowd. But it wasn't fast enough. They pressed in on us, intent on blood from somewhere, if not from Vahid.

They were so close I could see the grime and desperation on their faces. I could taste their fear, their anger.

It tasted a lot like mine.

They shook the tanga, and the driver raised his saber to slash at them.

"No!" I shouted to him. I wasn't about to cut down innocent civilians for the crime of being angry at Vahid. Especially not when I felt the same. "Don't hurt them."

But no sooner had my words come out than bright flames enveloped the carriage, surrounding the crowds, sending them running and screaming.

The horses took off, the tanga lurching down the street so fast I flew backward and landed with a hard smack in my seat. Vahid's soldiers circled the protestors, djinn fire shooting from their hands as they burned Basral citizens alive.

The stench of burned flesh and charred cloth filled the air, and I unconsciously pressed the small dagger pendant at my chest. My own screams were trapped in my throat, held hostage by the shrieks of the dying protestors.

"Stop," I whispered, but no one heard anything.

Our carriage sped away, the bonfire of bodies aglow behind us as we made our way to the emperor's ivory palace.

We arrived to a legion of palace guards lined up outside the entrance steps. Noor and I sat silently in the carriage, still in shock over what happened. When I closed my eyes, I still saw the people burning. Murdered, all because they protested a ruler leeching their city with his djinn bargain.

But as we pulled up to the palace, a strange pressure filled my chest seeing the line of guards clad in Mazin's familiar black-and-gold sherwani, with gilded scimitars strapped to their waists, etched with an intricate design carved across the leather sheath I knew very well. A zoraat flower, similar to the lotus but with more rounded petals, and a sword crossing the center of it. The mark of the emperor's high guard, and Mazin the head of them.

When my gaze swept the guards along the marble staircase, I realized Mazin wasn't there greeting us.

We were led into the palace, the floor like a still lake reflecting the clicking of our fine heels as we walked through the cavernous halls.

Not much had changed. And yet everything had.

The last time I was here, I had just been arrested. The last time I was here, my entire world fell apart.

And when I looked up from examining the broken pieces of my life, I had found only Mazin's cold dark gaze staring back.

I bit the inside of my lip so hard a metallic taste hit my tongue.

Good. At least the physical pain would be a distraction from the emotions coursing through me as I walked these halls again.

It was still ostentatiously decorated—gaudy, golden statues, pillars lined with jewels, and detailed carvings finer than the lace edging our dupattas. This palace was the former king's design, but when Vahid had taken over with his djinn magic, he had added to the spectacle of it all. Anyone who stepped inside would know his power. The palace was a weapon of its own—the kind that invoked fear and awe. I glanced over at Noor, silent beside me, her eyes sweeping the high ceiling and widening at the large open-air courtyard at the center.

"This place is as big as a city," she whispered as we walked through the tightly curated garden in the bright afternoon sun. She brushed a finger across a cluster of dark pink roses. "I had no idea Vahid lived like this. Souma's house was very fine. But Souma's didn't compare to this."

"Don't let it fool you," I whispered back. "It's all an act. Souma held Vahid's true power—the one you and I now have. Vahid would be nothing without djinn magic. We've just seen proof of that. Without zoraat, he'd still be a farmer eking out a living in the south."

Anam received us in a sitting area I had sat in often before.

It was a simple room to take tea, if simple meant that the ceilings were still lined with gold, and the cool tiles were an elaborate floral motif of orange, indigo, and fuchsia.

"Sanaya, I heard what happened—are you well?" Anam looked from Noor to me and back again. "The protestors are getting more daring."

"Yes, the emperor's soldiers managed to… subdue them with zoraat." I swallowed the words like they were poison, but still stretched my mouth into a smile. "Thankfully."

I could still smell their burned hair on my clothes.

"What a beautiful room," I said with false pleasantness, attempting to change the subject as I breathed through my mouth.

"I'm glad you love it. It isn't mine, obviously, but I love sitting here. It's rare that I get to have visitors." She laughed a little, though the sound was sad, as if she had just realized the truth of her words.

Mazin had yet to join us, and I kept casting a glance to the doorway. I folded my hands on my lap to keep them from moving and focused on Anam.

Don't get too caught up in this, I reminded myself for the hundredth time. If I lost myself, I would lose everything.

"You are a ward of the emperor's." It wasn't a question, but she took it as such.

"Yes, he took us in when we were children. We had nowhere else to go. I owe him everything." She crossed her arms over her lap, her voice still light, despite the heavy subject.

"What happened to your parents?" My voice sounded harsh in the midafternoon heat.

Noor raised a brow from behind Anam. I rolled my eyes and tempered my tone, making my expression gentler. "My apologies if I overstep, it's just such a unique situation—the emperor raising you."

Anam's gaze shadowed.

"They died when I was a baby. I never really knew them. And neither did the emperor. He had been riding through our village during the fighting with the king and spied my brother with a baby. He decided to take us in. We are lucky the emperor found us when he did."

Lucky .

Maz hadn't told his sister how their parents died. Not how they had really died. She only knew the version Vahid told her. I smothered my shock and tucked that information away for later.

"The emperor must be a generous man." My smile felt like a hideous grimace. Every moment I had to hide my true feelings about Vahid, about Mazin, about any of them, it became more impossible.

Anam barked out such an abrupt stream of laughter that I jumped back.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh as I did. It's just that you are the first and only person who would ever describe him as generous."

"And how would you describe him?" This was starting to sound like an interrogation but I wanted to know how Anam truly saw the emperor. Was she putting on an act? Did she resent this gilded cage?

"He is like a father to Mazin and me. He hadn't any children. But he raised us in the palace with every luxury we could want. He gave my brother a powerful position at his side. He didn't have to do any of that."

He wanted to buy your loyalty.

I nearly said the words aloud but stopped. There was something that she wasn't saying. Something just beyond the edges of her sentences that felt darker, truer. Anam knew more than she was letting on.

"But others might say he is… a merciless ruler."

A snort sounded from Noor's direction, and I willed the smile on my face to stay unmoving, and my eyes to stay trained on Anam's face.

Yes, we just witnessed the extent of his mercilessness .

Anam busied herself with making tea and I shot Noor a murderous expression. She gave a shrug and slid out of the room, the shadows of the doorway swallowing her up. Either she couldn't take much more of Anam talking about the emperor, or she was finally heading to do what she was planning to do since we got here.

I exhaled as soon as she left and turned my attention back to Anam. It was time I got a few more answers from her about who her brother really was—if she even knew.

"Your brother seemed quite upset in the bazaar yesterday."

Anam looked down. "Yes."

"I suppose it's understandable, he must have been so concerned when he heard you'd gone missing."

"That, or he's angry he doesn't have control of the city like he thinks," she said, with a tilt of her head and a mild smile.

I raised a brow. "And does he? Control Basral, I mean? I know he's in charge of the royal guard and the city patrols, but there seem to be so many problems."

"Oh, Maz has been focused on gaining a foothold in every corner of the city. Every corner of the empire, really. He's been working extremely hard—he's very ambitious."

She said it with pride, as if she admired the things he had done to get here. I wondered if she had ever thought about me, and what he had told her had happened.

I had always seen Anam as sweet, unassuming, an ally. But now I was questioning everything. She knew what Maz did to me—she must. And yet she sat here looking proud of what he did—proud that he betrayed his best friend for a little more power.

I curled my fingers around the bronze knife sitting on the table beside the small pot of honey.

Footsteps thudded in the doorway, and I looked up to see a large figure filling the entrance to the terrace. My breath caught and I released the knife in my hands with a thud.

As Maz stepped into the light, the red sun gleamed off the terrace, and his dark hair shone like liquid night. The threads of gold in his eyes glowed as they lit on Anam, before coming to rest on me. He raised his lips in greeting and I felt the smile more than I saw it. I released a slow breath that I'm sure both Anam and Mazin heard.

I wanted to throw myself off the terrace at how thoroughly my body was still in his claws. But I was supposed to act like this, like a lovesick fool who didn't know any better. I just wasn't supposed to be taken in by it myself.

"My apologies." His deep voice filled the terrace, making everything seem warmer. I tugged at the collar on my kameez.

"There was a skirmish in the west of the city. And I had a lead on those thugs who abducted you, Anam."

I sat up in my chair, my heart pounding against my chest. If Mazin looked at me now, he would see the truth written in my expression. But he was watching Anam, and it gave me a chance to mask my panic. If he had any information on the street thieves, I needed to warn them. But as I willed my heart to slow, logic entered my thoughts. They were children, yes, but I remembered how slippery they were. They could evade Mazin, at least for now.

"Yes, Sanaya had her own troubles near the palace. Basral soldiers stepped in."

Mazin's concerned gaze met mine. I bit the edge of my lip, looking distraught. "The protests were awful. We were thankful for the emperor's soldiers. The crowds dispersed quickly after the fire."

"The soldiers used zoraat?" Mazin's voice was sharp.

"Yes, they must have. It was certainly a sight to see. We managed to get away unharmed."

The same could not have been said for the protestors.

I bit my bottom lip in an effort to look concerned and widened my eyes at him. "I hope your own skirmish wasn't too awful, sahib."

"Call me Maz." His smooth voice slid over me.

I was jolted by the way it sank, like hooks, into my skin. His eyes were the same and yet not. They were tempered by something else—a calculating expression, like a snow leopard, waiting to pounce on its prey.

"Maz," I acknowledged. "I hope no one was hurt."

"A mild protest we quashed immediately, nothing of concern." He swallowed, and I watched the line of his throat. "But we didn't use zoraat on them." He said the words as if he knew exactly what that meant, what I had seen.

His eyes met mine, dark and probing.

"Another protest?" I asked, cocking my head. This would be wel come news to Noor. If there was this much civil unrest in Basral, we needed to exploit that to our full advantage.

Mazin cleared his throat. "The emperor recently raised taxes and there have been a few… uprisings in response. But we've silenced them quickly enough."

"I hope it wasn't like last time," Anam cut in. "That was awful."

"What happened?" I didn't have to feign interest. The bigger the fire we could fuel against Vahid and Mazin, the better. I just needed to know where to fan the flames.

"A protest that got out of hand," explained Mazin. He looked down at his hands, stretching out the long fingers. "The emperor gave orders to execute all those responsible for the insurrection."

"It was a bloodbath." Anam shivered. "I'm so glad you weren't hurt, Maz."

I tilted my head. "You were there?"

His gaze met mine, unblinking. "I was."

And we both knew the words I didn't speak: Were you responsible for the bloodbath?

And we both knew the answer.

His gold-threaded eyes were the same, but they weren't.

And I knew why.

He'd finally become the villain he'd been so eager to destroy. The man who crushed down desperate people, who betrayed the girl who loved him for power, who became a cold monster, incapable of compassion.

"Thank you for joining us, Sanaya." Mazin sat down beside me, his leg nearly brushing mine.

I gritted my teeth under my smile. Now I had to seduce the monster.

"I hope you know how indebted we are to you," he continued as he motioned to one of the servants and drinks were poured. I tried to concentrate on the ruby candescence of the pomegranate-and-rose tea in my glass so I didn't have to look at the new harshness in Mazin's eyes.

"Anyone would have done what I did to help Anam." I leaned forward, letting my hand fall from the stem of my tea glass and brush the edge of his wrist. He glanced down at his hand, then back to me.

"And yet, no one else did. I think you are being too humble, sahiba." He leaned forward, a smile curling his lips, one of the first I'd seen from him. My heart increased a steady rhythm, and I wish I could say it was anger or even fear. But I knew the feeling for what it was, and it was the same elation I got when holding the hilt of a new sword in my hand, when swinging the winning strike against an opponent.

Excitement.

I gave a gentle, delicate laugh that would have made Noor proud. "I have never been accused of being humble, so I will accept your compliment." I moved my hand back to my glass, making sure to brush my fingers against his skin once more. Then I took a long gulp of my chilled tea—probably too long—and set the glass gently on the table. Flirting wasn't my forte, but I didn't think I was doing too badly.

The servants spooned out a fragrant rice dish, along with spicy pickled mango, and lamb simmered in whole green chilis. I concentrated on eating, barely tasting the heat of the spices despite how impressive the food was. This was the kind of meal I had dreamed about when I had lain on the floor of my prison cell.

"There is one thing I wanted to know." Mazin's voice was light, but deceptively so. The benefit of having known him so long was that I could tell there was something bothering him. An ache of familiarity took me back. I remembered knowing his expressions, being able to convey a whole conversation between us with a look.

"Anam mentioned at the bazaar that she heard a scuffle when she was blindfolded," he continued, leaning back in his chair. "That it sounded like someone was fighting the ruffians who took her. Did you fight off the thugs?" A smile played on his lips, and he had a slight slouch in his shoulders as if he were relaxed and calm. But I knew better.

I smiled back.

"Yes, actually," I admitted, watching his eyebrows rise to his hairline. He hadn't expected that. Good. Sanaya was going to be everything he didn't expect. "I managed to land a few hits on them, before they took off." I took a sip of my drink, the tart floral taste washing away the food and sharpening my mind. I didn't mention that the "thugs" in question were children and that one of them had been shaking with laughter as we pretended to engage in combat.

Mazin smiled, broad and sharklike. He leaned forward in his chair, so close I could smell the crisp forest scent of him. He steepled his fingers together. "Forgive me, I don't mean to offend, but I don't imagine you as the type to fight off thugs." His eyes flitted over my body as if willing me to see what he saw. And I did. Clad in jewels and a heavily embroidered shalwar kameez with a color so deep the dye must have cost more than this wing of the palace. I was a frivolous, beautiful confection. Not a warrior. But he didn't know warriors could wear jewels just as well.

"My mother taught me. She wanted to make sure I could defend myself." It was a lie close enough to the truth.

Mazin tilted his head, examining me still, but with a softer expression. I don't know if he bought my lie, but my words had the effect of doing something else—intriguing him. "She sounds like an intelligent woman."

I inclined my head. "Yes. All the women in our tribe are taught to fight." I wet my lips. "I think it's an important skill. A girl needs to know how to handle herself in an attack."

He propped his chin against his palm, his dark eyes like the mountain sky at midnight.

"Like you taught me, Maz," Anam interrupted with light affection, reminding me that she was still in the room. I looked away from Mazin's intense gaze and back at his sister.

"Anam fought well." I smiled, my voice warm and approving. "When I arrived, she had already hurt one of the thugs. If she hadn't been taken by surprise, there's no doubt she would have bested them."

Mazin looked between us. "Unfortunately, surprise is often the strategy used by opponents to gain the upper hand." He turned back to me. "It's the best tactic one can use in an attack." His voice was plain, speaking without any condescension.

I blinked at him. "Yes, which is why they weren't expecting me." I cleared my throat. " I was the surprise."

I raised my chin. That same thrill buzzed under my skin, knowing your opponent had a weapon just as sharp.

"The emperor wanted to thank you himself, but he couldn't get away." His voice was cold again, like when I had met him in the bazaar.

I'm certain the emperor doesn't even know I'm here or who I am .

"But he does want to thank you in person." He rubbed his hand over his chin, and I had the inexplicable urge to put my own hand there, to cup his jaw in my palm and cradle his face. I curled my fingers into the meat of my hand to stop myself from doing something so unhinged.

"There will be a feast at court that he would like you to come to," he continued.

"Oh, but you are welcome back here sooner than that," cried Anam. "With everything you've done, I would love it if we could be friends."

I smiled, nearly a genuine expression. The more access to the palace we had, the more chances to plant the seeds of our revenge.

And I knew Anam was one of Mazin's few weaknesses.

"Of course we are friends. And you must come to my home as well." I looked up at Maz. "I would love to attend the emperor's gathering, especially being new to the city. That is so generous."

He nodded, his expression bemused, as if he hadn't been able to figure me out yet.

At the end of the meal Anam embraced me, and we promised to see each other soon. I began to walk back to the palace entrance, only to have Mazin fall into step beside me.

"You don't need to walk me out," I laughed, looking around for Noor. But Mazin stuck by my side, and I forced my feet to continue forward.

It was strange walking alongside him again, but even though this time I had longer legs, he still towered over me.

"I meant it," he said, so quietly that I had to move closer to him to hear. "I owe you a debt of thanks. And I always repay my debts." He said it like an oath, and when I tried to brush it off again, I found the words sticking in my throat.

Instead, I nodded. He released a long breath, as if he needed my acceptance. As if he needed the debt.

I smiled at him, shaking my head. "You know, you don't have to pay someone back if they help you. Not everything is a transaction."

He stopped short, and I nearly tripped over my own feet at the abruptness of it.

"But it is. Nothing is without a cost."

"Maybe to you, but not me. When I help people, I have no agenda."

If Noor were here, she wouldn't have been able to contain her laughter at my words, but in my heart, I meant them. I wasn't being Sanaya now, I was Dania. My love never came with a price, even if his did.

"I don't think you understand where I came from, Sanaya. The way I grew up, you must assume everyone has an agenda."

"What an awful way to live." I frowned at his words. "How can you ever truly be free if you measure every interaction in terms of what it costs you?"

"Oh, I am not free in any sense of the word."

"Of course you are." We'd come to the open-air courtyard now, the gaudy manicured orchids and jasmine flowers surrounding us with near-suffocating perfume. Instinctually I leaned closer to him, like even in this body I couldn't get enough of him. We stood next to the large pond, tiger lotus sprouting out of the muddy water like a warning. I waved my arms at the magnificence surrounding us, and I didn't have to fake my next words. Not when I'd lived in true captivity for the past year.

"You live in a palace, not a prison. You have the world at your fingertips." I smiled, hoping it wasn't too brittle. "It's your own fault if you choose to feel confined."

His brow rose. "Is it? I'll have to take my lessons in freedom from you, then."

"I came all the way here from the northern territory—there isn't anywhere that can cage me."

"I like that," he said quietly, turning to face me. "I should like to feel…" He licked his lips and my eyes followed the progress of his tongue. "Uncaged."

"Perhaps I can teach you." I kept my voice just as soft, even though my heart was hammering in my chest.

He looked at me from beneath hooded eyes. "Perhaps you can."

We'd reached the front steps of the palace and walked toward the tanga waiting at the bottom.

Noor was by the carriage looking decidedly unruffled and not like she'd been combing the palace for secrets.

At the unexpected sight of her I stumbled on the stairs, nearly pitching forward. Mazin reached out to steady me, his hand grabbing my forearm and his arm on my waist. His touch was warm, rippling through me like a brand.

He stared down at me, his mouth slightly parted.

"Are you all right?"

"I hope so." I pressed my teeth together, trying to ignore the fact that I didn't hate the way I felt when he got close to me. I didn't hate the way he looked at me when our eyes met. Like he could consume me.

Like he was scheduled for execution and I was his final meal.

But he's not looking at you. He's looking at Sanaya.

That thought jolted me out of my haze, and I moved half a step closer, enough to see the lighter cracks of brown threaded through his dark eyes. His eyebrows lifted at my sudden nearness, but he didn't move back, meaning I hadn't pressed my luck, not yet.

Underneath the anger, underneath the feeling of wanting to stab him to death, I found myself missing this. Missing him. Talking to him. Sharing things together.

Don't fall into your own trap.

I looked over at Noor waiting by the tanga, and her bright eyes met mine. I cleared my throat.

"It was a pleasure to spend time with you and your sister today. I hope in time you will see there is nothing I ask from either of you except friendship. I have no agenda, there is no debt to repay."

He tipped his head down to me and it felt as if my heart was trapped in my throat and the only way I could breathe would be if I removed it entirely.

"I don't have many friends, Sanaya. But I will accept your friendship."

He took my hands in his, then pressed them to his lips. They were warm and dry, and it would be a lie to say I was repulsed, that the only thing I was thinking about was revenge.

Instead of fighting it, I leaned into the feeling, the crackle of fire underneath my skin something I hadn't felt since we'd last been together.

I hoped he felt it too. I hoped his body remembered mine, like every inch of my treacherous skin knew his.

I looked up at him, through my altered eyes.

He gripped my hands and his breath hitched tight in his chest. His pupils dilated, lips parting slightly.

I had him.

I walked to the tanga, my fingers slipping from his, though he seemed reluctant to let go. Finally, he did, and I pulled away, watching him flex his hand against his side after he did so.

Then I climbed into the carriage, leaving Mazin behind in the dust.