by Alina Boyden
“I’d like that very much,” Lakshmi said, with such longing that it tore open a whole host of scars across my own heart that I’d almost forgotten were there. The desire to be accepted for myself, and to have the family I was robbed of by dint of my birth, was so strong it was almost overpowering. And either this woman was far kinder than her son, or she knew something about the pain we’d experienced and she was using it to manipulate us. I supposed time would tell which it was.
“If you’ll come with me, I will take you to my husband,” Asma offered. “He’s waiting to meet you in the diwan-i-khas.” She gestured to the building in question, and now that I was standing on ground level, I could see more clearly past its colonnaded facade, to where Sultan Ahmed was sitting atop a marble throne not at all unlike the one in the palace of Shikarpur.
“Normally we ladies do not have much cause to visit the outer palace,” she said as we walked, her maids moving to surround us on all sides, “but given that you were arriving in the company of so many men, my husband thought it appropriate to receive you here, and to permit me to join him.”
To permit her to join him? I resisted raising an eyebrow at that phrasing, but it still sent a chill through my heart. Were they planning on sequestering me away in the inner palace, then? I supposed I was about to find out.
Hina and her celas joined us as we made our way to the diwan-i-khas. They filtered through the handmaidens until they had effectively boxed them out, positioning themselves close to me and to Asma as well.
She regarded the newcomers with the same smile she had shown me. “And who might you be?”
“That’s Ali Talpur’s little sister,” Karim said, having moved to stand in front of us, flanked on either side by at least a dozen Mahisagari musketeers. “She’s here as Razia’s handmaiden.”
“Oh!” Asma gasped, holding her hand to her mouth in horror. I expected her to run and hide behind her son, knowing that Hina likely wanted her and every other Mahisagari in the palace dead, but instead she reached out and took Hina’s hands in hers and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss, dear. The wars men wage are such dreadful things, and too often we women are the ones left to bear their consequences.”
Hina seemed as startled as I was by Asma’s behavior, but the older woman plowed ahead as if she didn’t notice, patting Hina’s cheek gently. “Whatever you may be feeling now, you have my word that you’ll be safe here.”
Hina bristled at the older woman’s touch, and the muscles behind her temples bulged as she worked her jaw, struggling to muster a response to Asma’s words. In the end, she just gave a stiff nod, but I noted the way her olive eyes darted to Karim, standing just a few paces away, and I knew she was thinking of all the ways she’d like to murder him for what he’d done to her brother. Her self-control in coming here like this was almost superhuman. I didn’t think I could have done it.
I put my hand on Hina’s shoulder and whispered, “Thank you for coming with me. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
“It’s my pleasure, your highness,” Hina replied, but her voice was stiff and wooden, and her eyes were still staring unblinking at Karim and his men. There were more of them now, almost three dozen, blocking our path to the baradari.
For a second, I wasn’t too worried by that, as I was confident that Karim and Ahmed had no intention of murdering me, but then I realized that wasn’t necessarily true for Hina. If they killed her, I could protest, I could scream and shout and complain, but I was powerless to stop them. That realization made my stomach churn.
“Is there something wrong, your highness?” I asked Karim, my voice betraying the fear that was coursing through me as I worried that I had delivered Hina’s head on a platter to her enemies.
“No, there’s nothing wrong, Razia,” Karim replied, and his voice was gentler than it usually was, more like it got when he was talking to his zahhak. To prove it, he made a gesture with his hand and the men parted, clearing the path for us, though their presence was a clear reminder of who held the power here. As if I needed another.
“Come along, then, ladies. My husband won’t keep us long, and then I can help you settle into your chambers,” Asma said.
So it was their plan to keep me in the inner courtyard. I mulled over whether or not it was worth fighting them over that point. I supposed that it didn’t much matter at the end of the day. Until I could work out a way to send messages out of the palace, which particular courtyard I was confined to was of no great consequence.
As we stepped into the baradari, my heart quickened its pace. There were no courtiers here, none of the leading men of Mahisagar. All the men had been kept to the edges of the pavilion, and they were all armed guards. More guards followed us in, taking up their positions on the stairs, effectively blocking us from our zahhaks. But it was difficult to protest, as Karim’s fliers had stayed outside the baradari too. He and his father were the only men present, apart from a pair of armed and armored soldiers with shields and spears standing at the base of the throne.
While I felt like I technically outranked the sultan of Mahisagar as the princess of Nizam, I decided that politeness outweighed precedence, and I bowed properly to Ahmed Shah as we reached the throne.
“Welcome, daughter,” he said, his tone betraying no small amusement at the situation.
“Thank you, father-in-law,” I replied, keeping my eyes downcast, my voice quiet, my posture submissive. I didn’t want him to see the least seed of rebellion in me. He’d be suspicious enough without my giving him cause for it, and if I wanted to keep any power of my own, I was going to need to play the part of the proper princess to assuage his doubts—particularly after the way I’d tried to negotiate his destruction with my father in Karim’s hearing.
“Father,” Karim said, “Razia has had a difficult past few days. I think it would be best if we concluded matters here quickly, so that she can rest.”
“Yes, of course,” Ahmed agreed. To me, he said, “As my son’s fiancée, you will be treated as my own daughter. You will be given a suite of apartments in the inner palace, as will your sisters and your maids.” He gestured dismissively to Hina and her celas. “However, there are certain rules you must abide by, just as any daughter-in-law must when entering her husband’s home.”
“Of course, father-in-law,” I replied, still the picture of filial submission.
“I keep a conservative home,” Ahmed said. “As such, you will remain in the inner palace, and will not leave it without a proper escort. If you do need to make public appearances, you will veil yourself appropriately. Needless to say, as a princess in the heart of my palace, you will have no need for weapons of any kind, and neither will your maids.”
“My father did send Sikander and two bodyguards to serve as my chaperones, father-in-law,” I informed him. “I trust they will be permitted to remain armed?”
“They will be,” Karim said, answering for his father, and Ahmed dipped his head in acknowledgment.
“You will be provided with every comfort in the women’s quarters,” Ahmed continued. “We will give you a generous allowance of clothing and jewelry until your father sees fit to send your dowry. You will be permitted to go anywhere in the inner palace you like, and to send and receive letters to and from your family. Simply hand them off to any of the guards, and they will have them sent via my own couriers. If you need to procure anything from the markets, tell a servant, and we will have one sent to fetch it for you.”
“Yes, your majesty,” I replied. It was going to make sending messages to Arjun all but impossible if I couldn’t find a way to get someone out of the women’s quarters with my letters, but I didn’t want to press the case too hard now, lest I make them more suspicious than they already were.
“If there is nothing else, I am sure you’re tired owing to the long flight, and my wife is eager to show you to your chambers,” said Sultan Ahmed.
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bsp; “I would be most grateful, father-in-law,” I agreed, as getting a sense of the palace layout would be crucial if I was going to find some way around these restrictions they had placed on me.
“If I may make a suggestion, your majesty,” Hina offered, bowing her head to Asma. “I think the rooftop chambers along the southern wall will suit her highness best. There is usually a strong breeze coming in from the sea, and the view is magnificent.”
“I think that’s a lovely choice,” Asma agreed. “I’ll let Hina take you there, and I will join you later.”
“I look forward to it, mother-in-law,” I replied, meeting her smile with one of my own. I still wasn’t quite sure what to make of her, but all things considered, I didn’t think I had fared too badly in this first encounter with Karim and his family. I didn’t exactly have my freedom, but I thought I had enough of it to work with if I could just find some way of sending my messages out of the palace.
CHAPTER 12
I understood at once why Asma had agreed so readily to Hina’s recommendation when I had been led to my new chambers. Perched high atop the palace’s southern wall, they looked out over the calm waters of the lagoon and the barrier island to the south, with the sea visible beyond as a dark blue smudge that stretched out until it met the sky. It was a remarkably beautiful view, and true to Hina’s words, a cooling breeze flowed through the marble jali screens, driving out the worst of Zindh’s heat.
But the beautiful view and the comfort of the sea air came at a price. My chambers were as far from the docks that led off this island as they could possibly be. They were as far from the zahhak stables as any rooms in the palace. If I ever wanted to get out of this place, I would have to cross the palace’s innermost courtyard, where every servant and every guard could see me. Then I would have to pass through a heavily guarded gateway, into the central courtyard of the palace, where more open gardens would leave me exposed to the sight of more servants and more guards, before finally reaching the zahhak stables. And if I wanted to take a boat? Well, then I would have to pass through a second gateway, a third courtyard, and then reach the docks under the watchful eyes of more Mahisagari soldiers than I could count.
“What do you think?” Hina asked as I paced the yellow sandstone patio that projected out from the palace walls. It let me look down at the waters of the lagoon, with only a knee-high decorative railing standing between me and a fifty-foot fall.
“I think we have our work cut out for us,” I muttered, keeping my voice low, though Hina’s celas were guarding the entrance to my chambers, so I knew that no servants would be able to overhear us.
“These are the most secure rooms in the palace,” she explained, gesturing to the long drop to the water below. “But they’re also the most remote. If Karim wants to bother you, he’ll have to do a lot of walking to get here.”
“That’s something anyway,” I allowed, because the thought of Karim visiting me in my bedchambers sent a shiver of dread running through me.
“And choosing secure chambers will help you to avoid suspicion,” she added. “That’ll be important if we’re going to continue with the plan.” She hadn’t phrased it like a question, but I sensed the tension in her voice. She was worried that I was giving up.
“The plan stands,” I assured her. “I presume that if I can find us a reliable messenger, you know men in Kadiro to whom we can send our missives?”
“I do, your highness,” she replied. “But it won’t be easy to find a loyal messenger here. Who could we possibly trust with letters to Arjun or the Safavians?”
“I don’t know yet,” I confessed, “but we have a little time to figure it out.”
“Not much,” she warned. “Arjun said that it would be best if we attacked within a fortnight, and he wasn’t wrong. Sunil will be able to piece an army together, I’m sure of it, but it won’t hold for long, not without money and supplies. And the longer the Mahisagaris remain here, the stronger their control over Zindh will become. Better we push them out soon, your highness.”
“I don’t want to wait any more than you do,” I said, “but if we move too quickly and too clumsily, we will be caught. You will be executed, and I will be married to Karim for the rest of my life, kept a prisoner in his palace to be used as he pleases.” Just saying those words out loud made my stomach tie itself in knots, made my fists clench with fear and frustration. “Believe me, I am going to do everything in my power to get us out of this mess, Hina.”
“I believe you, your highness,” Hina said, resting her hand on my shoulder. But then she added something that I wished she hadn’t. “I hope it’s enough.”
What if it wasn’t? That was the thought that was gnawing away at the back of my mind. Karim had me right where he wanted me, trapped in his palace, separated from my zahhaks and from Arjun and from any friendly guards or soldiers. He had won my father’s support in this marriage, which meant that Sikander couldn’t be trusted to take my side in this dispute, not unless Karim violated the terms of the marriage agreement. And while I was accustomed to dealing with opponents who had all the advantages, I was also accustomed to being underestimated. Karim wouldn’t make that mistake, not after everything he had seen me accomplish in Bikampur.
I sighed and leaned up against one of the golden columns that supported the patio’s roof, my fingers wrapping themselves around a decorative rosette of blue-glazed tile, made to resemble the lotuses that grew in the palace’s water gardens. It was one of many, running in equally spaced bands around the fluted sandstone column. More such rosettes had been affixed to the outer walls of my chambers, to provide a splash of color to the otherwise uniform yellow-brown sandstone blocks.
Hope went through me like the electric jolt I sometimes got when Sultana was about to unleash a bolt of lightning. I rushed to the knee-high railing at the edge of the patio, moving so quickly that Hina actually grabbed my wrist to stop me from going over.
“You can’t give up that easily, your highness,” she told me, her voice stern.
I shook off her grip with a deft twist of my arm—a wrestling technique I’d picked up in Nizam. “Relax. I’m not going to kill myself just yet.”
Instead, I knelt down and leaned over the railing as far as I could, to get a better look at the walls of the palace beneath me. The yellow sandstone was festooned with carved floral motifs, with stylized zahhaks and checkerboard patterns, with vines and leaves, all covered with turquoise-, cobalt-, and white-glazed tiles, creating belts of raised decorations that ran the length and breadth of the walls all the way down to the calm waters of the lagoon some fifty feet below. The lip of the patio projected about five feet beyond the walls, which would make things a bit more difficult, but the sandstone buttresses supporting it were carved and decorated too, so it wouldn’t be that tricky, I didn’t think.
“Is everything all right?” Hina asked, still hovering cautiously beside me, just in case I really was suicidal and about to throw myself over the ledge.
“How far is it from the palace to Kadiro’s docks?” I asked.
She raised a mahogany eyebrow, her lips twisting with concern. “How far?”
“To swim,” I said. “How far of a swim is it?”
“You wouldn’t survive the fall, your highness,” she warned me. “The water is shallow here around the island. You’d hit bottom and break every bone in your body—if you weren’t killed from the impact with the water itself. And even if you somehow did survive the fall intact, every guard in the palace would hear the splash.”
I stood up and dusted off my skirts. “Humor me.”
She rolled her hazel eyes. “I suppose it’s about half a mile. But if you think I came all this way, gave up all my weapons, and placed myself under Karim’s control just to watch you hurl yourself into the lagoon, you are sorely mistaken.”
Half a mile. I could manage that. I was a strong swimmer, or had been, when I was livin
g in Nizam. I hadn’t had much cause to swim in Bikampur, the desert city not affording me many opportunities to practice, but I hadn’t forgotten the lessons I’d learned as a young prince in Nizam, or the times I’d gone swimming with Haider and Tamara during those two glorious summers in Tavrezh, Safavia’s glittering riverside capital.
“Are there any odd currents that might drag you out to sea?” I wondered, as that was the real danger.
Hina crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing, convinced that I’d lost my mind. I couldn’t even blame her, not really. To anyone else, my new home probably looked like an impregnable fortress, but I had scaled more difficult walls in Bikampur, to say nothing of the cliffs of Shikarpur, which had towered two hundred feet above the desert, the natural rock providing nothing as secure for handholds and footholds as the raised decorations that studded every inch of this palace.
“Did no one tell you how I stole the thunder zahhaks from Javed Khorasani?” I asked her.
“People said you scaled the cliffs of Shikarpur with your bare hands . . .” she murmured, but her eyes were still narrowed with skepticism. She hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen it for herself.
I walked back to the column that had provided my inspiration, and I scampered up it, using the big rosettes for handholds, shoving the tips of my slippers into the gaps in the tile work to lever myself upward as easily as if I were walking across solid ground. In an instant, I was fifteen feet in the air, my legs wrapped around the column’s capital. I bent over backward, letting my body hang, my arms crossed over my chest, my braided hair spilling down until it was nearly touching the top of Hina’s head.
“If there are no powerful currents in the lagoon, then I think I have found our messenger,” I declared.
CHAPTER 13
Her highness is resting!”
A man’s deep, gruff voice echoed off unfamiliar marble walls, jarring me from my sleep. I sat up with a start, my heart pounding, my eyes flickering across blue lotus tilework set into bright white marble and golden sandstone. The sound of the sea was droning in my ears, the waves crashing on a beach somewhere in the distance providing the backdrop to the louder lapping of calmer waters against the stout stones of the palace walls nearby. The raucous calls of seagulls were loud overhead, and a few tiny fish zahhaks, no bigger than crows, were chattering away from their perches on the marble railing of my patio.
