Princess of Smoke (2020 Reissue)

by Helena Rookwood

  He strode straight for me. “I know it’s not traditional, but I had to see you one last time.” He stilled as he took in my outfit, his gaze running over my dress and headdress. “Zadie, you look…” He blew out a breath.

  “Did you hear about the dress?” I picked at my sleeve. “I didn’t plan on wearing red, but my cream gown was completely ruined and–” I stopped when I noticed Kassim trying to repress a smile. “What’s funny about that?”

  “Nothing.” Kassim kept a straight face. “Only that it doesn’t matter. You look beautiful.”

  He took both my hands and pulled me a few steps away from the others. Thunder rumbled again but this time I didn’t jump.

  “Listen. During the ceremony, I’ll have to intone a lot of boring old rites to the rest of the world, and talk about the alliance, promising to unite my kingdom and wealth with Princess Scheherazade, second-born of Khiridesh. But that’s just politics.” He squeezed my hands, clearing his throat. “I promise to share my body, my heart, my soul with you, Zadie. My sultanah.” He leaned down to kiss the back of my hands, and my body thrummed, excitement fluttering in my stomach and spreading outward. “The rites for arranged marriages like ours don’t mention those things, but I wanted you to hear them.”

  “I hear them.” Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away, not wanting to ruin Safiyya’s hard work on my makeup.

  Elian caught the sultan’s arm. “Minute’s up, Kassim. Come on. You’ll see her in a few moments anyway.” He gave me a wink.

  A smile spread across Kassim’s face as he allowed himself to be led away by the captain. “Oh, and Zadie?” The sultan pulled away from Elian. “I have a special gift for you in my chamber, for afterward.”

  “I bet you do,” Elian cackled, catching the sultan’s arm once more and almost dragging him toward the door.

  “Ignore Elian,” Kassim called back over his shoulder, halfway through the doors. “It’s not that. It’s jewelry.”

  The doors closed after them, and I stared at the vast, carved doors before me, imagining Kassim walking past our guests to the dais. The same walk I would take in a few moments. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, but found I was already much calmer.

  “It’s almost midnight. Are you ready, princess?” Namir hung back as the guards stood to attention, primed to open the doors.

  I raised my chin. The headdress pressed down on my head, heavy as a crown. But I was getting used to the extra weight. I nodded to Namir, and the doors swung inward.

  My breath left me as I stepped into the ballroom. Not because the gazes of several hundred gathered nobles turned on me, but because the room itself took my breath away.

  The cavernous ballroom glowed golden orange, lit by a thousand and one small oil lamps hanging from the high ceilings by gossamer threads and flickering overhead like a fiery blanket of stars.

  In the distance, over the sounds of the storm outside, Kisrabah’s bell towers began to chime midnight.

  The rain drummed against the high windows and bells pealed as I took another step into the room, still marveling at how Safiyya had transformed it into a place of wonders.

  Framing the sea of lights, thin, cream banners flowed from the ceiling like waterfalls, and garlands of gold-painted star jasmine in full, fragrant bloom curled along the marble columns, their scent mingling with the rich wood-and-amber incense.

  My gaze fell to the sultan, my sultan, waiting for me at the far end of the room.

  I took another step, then another. I moved slower than the chiming bells and as regally as I could, ignoring the giddy urge to run. Instead, I pressed my shoulder blades back, trying to forget I wore the wrong color dress, or any of the last-minute changes.

  I ignored the soldiers standing guard, let the royals flash past my periphery without worrying what they were thinking. I passed Sultanah Farideh in a colorful outfit, Princess Makani in a gown made of tiny, cut jewels, and Prince Rishi who, by the state of his hair, had been roused from bed quite recently.

  I was more than halfway… Three quarters… My mother and father smiled down at me from the dais. The bells finished chiming when I was less than a few steps from Kassim. It was officially All Spirits Day, the day marked as auspicious for our union.

  We made it.

  I let out a long, shaky breath.

  And a splintering bang echoed through the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I spun to see the doors smash open and Namir fly through the air before every oil lamp in the room flickered out. Gasps filled the air. A fork of lightning lanced across the night sky beyond, briefly illuminating the incredulous crowd.

  My hand flew to my chest, every muscle in my body tense.

  A cold, male voice rang out. “Beautiful night for a wedding.”

  What sounded like three sets of footsteps echoed through the ballroom, their owners hidden by darkness. I stumbled backward, closer to Kassim. Then every lamp in the room flickered to life once more, a low, lilac flame burning menacingly. Violet smoke gathered above us, hanging as thick and dark as the clouds outside.

  Tarak.

  I glanced around, my breathing quickening. The rest of the room was hazy with the smoke of the extinguished lamps.

  “I assume the bird delivering my invitation got lost on the way, Sultan Kassim?” This time, I caught the accent, a rich, rounded tone that made each word sound like a purr.

  My eyes found the speaker, a tall, slim man dressed all in black, taking long, languid steps toward us. He paused when he saw me, his kohl-lined eyes piercing against his pallid skin. A shudder ran through me.

  Tarak stood at his left. The djinni crossed his arms, looking bored. His violet eyes looked straight past me.

  My chest constricted. I knew the djinni wasn’t working with us anymore… But to come back here like this, to try and ruin my wedding…

  At the stranger’s other side, a familiar shadowy figure stepped into view.

  “Hepzibah,” I hissed, glaring at the vizier. Garbed in a swirling black gown that moved like smoke, she grasped a silver staff in her bony hand. I dug my nails into my palms as a spider-like smile spread across her face.

  “I have traveled far to make an appearance on your important day,” the intruder continued, directing his words at Kassim. “Not that you or your father bothered to make the journey north for my own wedding, or even for my late wife’s funeral. In fact, the Astarian throne has declined all of our diplomatic invitations for decades.” The stranger splayed his palms. “But I understand. It is such a long, arduous journey.”

  Recognition dawned on Kassim’s face and his lip curled. “Sultan Iram.” Kassim’s voice shook with rage as it rang out through the chamber.

  “In the flesh.” The Phoenitian sultan sketched a shallow bow, his gaze flicking from Kassim to me as he righted himself.

  The Sultan of Phoenitia. Whatever his reason for being here, it wasn’t good. Especially considering he was working alongside a hateful sorceress and a deceitful, treacherous djinni.

  My gaze slid back to Tarak, tears pricking at my eyes. How could he? He knew what the Phoenites had done. That they’d been working against the Astarian throne. That they’d tried to kill me.

  He obviously just didn’t care

  “And this must be your bride, Princess Scheherazade.” Sultan Iram dipped his head in my direction. “I apologize for missing her grand entrance. I was only just informed you’d changed the time of your nuptials.”

  I clasped my fingers together so he couldn’t see them trembling. “Yet you arrived just in time to upstage me with a grand entrance of your own, sultan.”

  Sultan Iram blinked, as if surprised I’d spoken to him directly. He gave a tight smile. “The reports about you appear to be true, princess.”

  “As do yours,” I bit back.

  Kassim responded by drawing his scimitar and pointing it in the sultan’s direction. “The Kingdom of Phoenitia was not invited to our wedding, and with good reason, Iram.” Kassim mot
ioned to the soldiers lining the walls. “Guards – seize them!”

  No sooner had the instruction left Kassim’s lips than Tarak snapped his fingers and every weapon in the room whooshed upward. Scimitars were wrenched from hands and daggers unsheathed themselves from waists. I stared up at the glittering ceiling of blades hanging menacingly in the roiling gloom above our heads.

  If they drop…

  “Now we have your attention...” Sultan Iram turned slightly from side to side to address the room. Our guests cowered back from him. “I can enlighten you as to the purpose of our visit.”

  A hand wrapped around my waist, tugging me backward a few steps. “Princess, get behind me.” Elian stepped in front, giving me no choice in the matter. I peered around the captain’s bulk.

  Sultan Iram pushed back his dark cape to rest a hand on the hilt of his scimitar. “A royal wedding should be a happy occasion, but I’m afraid this one–”

  Without warning, Kassim snarled and charged at Iram. The two sultans collided, knocking Hepzibah into the crowd. Tarak materialized a few steps back, watching the fighting sultans without attempting to intervene.

  I glanced up to the ceiling where all of the weapons hung well out of reach. Kassim must have realized the same thing. He was going for Iram’s own scimitar, the only weapon remaining on the ground.

  Kassim grappled with Sultan Iram, the two men a blur of gold and black as they each tried to find purchase on the other. The crowd moved back. They were of similar height, but Kassim was broader and moved faster. He kneed Iram in the stomach, and with the dark sultan winded, knocked his legs from underneath him. He crashed to the floor.

  “How dare you come into my home, threaten my guests, and ruin my wedding,” Kassim growled through gritted teeth as he pinned Sultan Iram’s arms over his head, his broad hand gripping both of his wrists and pressing them into the stone. He extracted the scimitar with the other, then jumped up so he stood over Iram, pointing it at his throat.

  “How dare I, Kassim?” Iram laughed, still sounding slightly out of breath. He didn’t even try to get up from the floor. “I dare because I can.”

  The lilac lights dimmed for a fraction of a second. When they brightened again, the sultan had disappeared, leaving Kassim pointing the stolen scimitar at the marble floor. He whirled around, the sword clasped in two hands. Tarak and Hepzibah had disappeared, too.

  Where did they go?

  Elian left my side to move to Kassim, the captain’s gaze roaming the crowd.

  “And you’re wrong.” Sultan Iram’s next words were loud but distorted, as if carried to us on a phantom wind. I looked around, scanning for the source. “I haven’t threatened anyone here, yet.”

  There. The sultan had reappeared on the balcony, high above our heads. Tarak and Hepzibah flanked him once more, still as statues.

  “You see,” he called down, his tone taunting. “You may have a loyal army, powerful alliances, and a thriving kingdom, but you’ll soon see those things mean nothing. I have harnessed the power of the spirits themselves, and you will fail in the face of my might.” He dusted his hands down his dark cape, speaking slowly, enunciating every word. “You are weak, Kassim. Too weak to protect your kingdom…”

  Hepzibah crashed her staff down against the balcony floor, sending an invisible force rippling out from where Kassim stood, knocking everyone off their feet. Guests shrieked and yelped, landing on the floor with thumps and crashes. Only Kassim and I were left standing.

  “Too weak to protect your subjects…” Iram gestured to the guests, who shakily pushed themselves to all fours or started crawling away. “Unable, even, to protect your new wife.”

  My blood ran cold as Iram’s dark gaze locked with mine.

  I was distantly aware of Kassim calling my name before the floor fell away beneath me.

  Chapter Twenty

  My feet flailed in the air. Far below, Kassim stood alone. Beyond the blast radius, most of the wedding guests were back on their feet, their heads craned up to stare at me, horror etched onto every face.

  A jeweled shoe slipped from my foot and fell to the marble below with a thump.

  “Zadie!”

  Several people cried my name. Kassim, my mother, Lalana… I couldn’t be sure from this distance. My head whirled and my stomach roiled.

  How did I get up here?

  The hands holding my wrists were warm. Hot. Too hot to be human. I tilted my neck back. Tarak held me over the edge of the balcony, his chest puffed out and his brown hair slicked back from his face.

  “Tarak,” I snarled, squirming against his grip. Anger seared away my fear. “You two-faced, double-crossing, son-of-a-roc. Put me down!”

  “I hardly think you want the djinni to grant that wish, Princess Scheherazade.” Sultan Iram loomed closer to me over the balcony, his gray eyes stony. “Not when you hang so precariously above the marble floor.”

  “Tarak, stop this,” I tried again, but the fire had gone out of my voice.

  The djinni’s violet eyes remained vacant, staring forward, not meeting my gaze.

  “It’s interesting how familiar you are with this particular spirit.” Iram’s voice was low, his head tilting as he addressed me. “Hepzibah informed me as much. It’s foolish. He has no love for you, you know.”

  Tarak’s grip tightened, and I repressed a yelp. My arms and shoulders already sang with agony, and my burning wrists felt like they might snap clean off.

  Iram shifted back from me, moving along the balcony to address the sultan far below us.

  “Your Royal Vizier informed me of a great many things, Kassim.” Iram’s voice seemed to carry without needing to shout over the distance. “She told me many tales of the young, haughty, orphaned sultan desperate to prove his worth.” He gripped the edge of the balcony. “I know everything, Kassim. I know what runs in your blood. And who heats it.” His gaze slid sideways to me. “Hepzibah has informed me that you care for this woman. Not as a sultan covets valuable alliances, or as a man desires a beautiful woman. She tells me you love her.” Iram leaned forward on the marble balcony, staring down at Kassim, who seemed so far beneath him. His mouth twisted into a satisfied smile. “So I’m taking her.”

  A cacophony of shouts and gasps rose from the crowd below.

  “Not, to be clear, to prevent the alliance between your two kingdoms.” He laughed. “No. Now I have the lamps, something as trifling as this marriage makes no difference to my plans.” Sultan Iram gestured to the crowd. “You’ll still have the first-born princess of Khiridesh. The union can go ahead once I take my leave.”

  I looked down to try and see Lalana, but my stomach flipped and my vision seemed to warp when I took in the drop below me.

  “I’m taking the woman you love as insurance to guarantee Astaran, or any of her allies, won’t interfere with my plans. Do you understand, Kassim? Rise against me, and I’ll kill her.”

  At Iram’s words, Tarak let my wrists slip through his hands an inch, and a scream tore from my lips.

  “Stop. Don’t hurt her!” Kassim started forward, shouting up. “Let’s talk about this.”

  Iram laughed darkly. “The time for talking is over, Kassim. Men like us live in an age where action determines legacy.”

  I hung limply, my hands and arms numb and tingling. All the blood had rushed to my feet, leaving me lightheaded and sick, a high-pitched whine filling my ears.

  Think, Zadie. I couldn’t let myself be used against Kassim. But if that was this sultan’s plan, he needed me alive.

  Without much thought, or any warning, I bent my wrists and dug my nails into Tarak’s hands. When the djinni flinched, I pulled forward with all my weight.

  Caught off guard, Tarak yelled and toppled right over the balcony, and I fell with him, my dress flying up around my face and ears, my limbs flailing wildly.

  Then warm arms wrapped around me, sweet smoke filling my mouth and nostrils. I felt the solid floor beneath me, and my knees buckled with relief. I coughed, unclenc
hing my eyes to the world still swimming around me. I was on the balcony.

  Hot hands pinned my arms behind my back.

  “Let me go!” I wheezed, struggling against Tarak once more. I stamped at his legs and feet with my own, but they turned to smoke beneath my blows.

  A stinging slap sent my face flying to the side. The vizier stood before me, her bony hand still raised. My vision blurred with tears and my ears rang.

  The vizier let out a sigh, speaking for the first time. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

  “I can hazard a guess,” I ground out, my cheek pulsing.

  “Enough, Hepzibah.” Iram motioned for Tarak to step me forward, displaying me to the crowd below.

  “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you both!” Kassim yelled. He stood directly below the balcony now, flanked by Elian and Namir. Both were weaponless, and the latter pressed a hand to his ribs.

  “No, sultan. You won’t.” Iram pursed his lips. “Were you not listening? You will not act against my kingdom in any way, or your princess dies. If I hear so much as a whisper of ships or armies being mobilized, if one scout reports Astarian men within ten leagues of my borders, your princess dies. You do anything I deem a threat, your princess dies.”

  Iram turned his gray eyes to me, grazing his knuckles along my still stinging cheek. “If your sultan heeds my words, there will be no need to waste such a vivacious, spirited life.”

  I flinched back from him, but he had already turned away, nodding to the vizier. Hepzibah cracked her silver staff down against the marble, and the weapons dropped from the ceiling.

  The crowd below screamed, diving out of the way of the sharp blades raining down. The weapons smashed and clattered to the floor just as every window in the ballroom banged open. Rain and wind clawed their way in, whipping the banners into a frenzy and ripping the garlands from the plinths.