The door opened. I pulled up the covers, but it was only Aamina, gasping and rushing into the room.
“Lay down, child!” she hissed, pushing my bare shoulders back to the mattress. It was the first time in years another human had touched me without so much as a wince. “You’ll pull a stitch!”
I threw my arms around her and laughed into her neck. How wonderful she felt! How warm, how soft! “I’m warm, Aamina!” I shouted. “It’s gone, look at me!” That spot in my back protested with dull pain as I sat up and leaned against her. “Look at me!”
Instead of scolding me, she smiled. “I forgot that you didn’t know. You look as fresh as a Northlander should look. How do you feel?”
“Amazing!” I shouted, touching my cheeks, my arms, my hair, which seemed a little longer than I remembered it being. “Amazing . . .”
I stiffened as more memories flooded me. “Imad? Imad, is he . . . ?”
“Imad is fine, thanks to you,” she said, eyes wrinkling with her grin. “But that was three weeks ago, Smeesa. We’ve kept you asleep to help you heal.”
I tried to process her words. That explained the strange taste in my mouth. What herbs had they given me?
But I didn’t care. I. Felt. So. Warm. Like the very sun radiated inside me, its rays spreading from crown to toes.
I hugged Aamina again, and she pushed me back onto my pillows.
“I’m glad you’re so well,” she said, suddenly maternal, “but they had to cut pieces of you out and sew pieces of you up, so you have to be careful until you’re fully healed, hear me?”
I nodded and laughed, eager as a child on winter solstice. Warm. So warm!
“I’ll get you something proper to wear. Stay put.” She shook her index finger at me and stepped into the hall, shutting the door silently behind her.
Despite her warnings, I sat up again, shaking my head in wonderment. I touched my feet, the cracks in my heels already mending. I wiggled my toes and giggled like a little girl. I touched my bandages, carefully prodding that sore spot to the left of my spine. It ached like a deep bruise.
“I don’t understand,” I murmured, pulling locks of my hair in front of my face. There was not a white strand among them. How had my curse broken? How could I have woken up my old self? Why had I been freed?
“It looked different,” a faint voice crooned.
Tugging up my blankets, I searched the room but found it empty. “Sadriel?” I whispered.
“Your curse,” he said, somewhere to my right. “I told you it was different.”
I scanned the room, the carpet and the ceiling. Still there was no sign of him. “Where are you?”
“Always amusing,” he chirped. “You of all people should know mortals can’t see me.”
My lips parted. Mortal. Normal. I really had broken the curse.
I swallowed, though my throat was dry. “How was it different?”
“Cursed to be as cold as your heart,” Sadriel said, his voice moving toward the end of the bed. “It seems the warmth of the truly selfless broke it.” He sighed. “Yet another one lost.”
I shook my head. “But I’m not . . . The things I’ve done—”
“Your hair,” he said, closer. Right beside me. A cool finger brushed the side of my head. “That’s when I noticed it. Giving up beauty, I suppose. And that savage soldier of yours. You let him go rather easily, hmm?”
Lo. The thought of him made my heart wring. “Love,” I whispered. Giving up love. Had I done that? What had Aamina said? Three weeks? He must be married by now. A new pain ached beneath my bandages, growing until it pressed against my ribs. Had he yet returned to Mac’Hliah?
“And the prince,” Sadriel said. “I had come for him, not for you. I almost had you in my realm once again, Smitha.”
I reached my hand out, but it met only open air. “Thank you,” I said, blinking away tears. “Thank you, for warning me. Thank you, with all my heart.”
He scoffed. “I did nothing of the sort.”
I smiled.
I heard a rustling of fabric, perhaps a flourishing of a cape, or an exaggerated tipping of a wide-brimmed hat.
“We would have been grand, you and I,” he said, voice fainter. “Till we meet again.”
I waited for a last quip, a last promise, but only silence settled over the room, impenetrable.
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Thank you, Sadriel.”
The door opened, and Aamina hurried in with a soft brown dress and pale rose head scarf. And sandals. Sandals! No gloves, no socks. I almost burst into tears again at the sight of them.
She began laying out the clothes on the bed. Leaning forward, I grabbed her wrist—her skin was so warm—and said, “Aamina, can I ask you a favor?”
She eyed me suspiciously but nodded.
My cheeks hurt, I smiled so hard. “Could I . . . have a bath? A warm bath?”
She snorted, nodded. “I’ll draw one up for you.”
Four years. It had been four years since I had last enjoyed a real bath.
I slipped into the copper tub until the hot water—almost too hot—flooded up to my chin, and my knees poked out from the surface.
“Careful now,” Aamina warned me, rolling up my dirty bandages. “You’ll pull a stitch!”
I reached back and touched the wound, a curved line under my left shoulder blade, rough with stitches and a few lingering scabs. It throbbed at first as I curled up in the bathtub, but the hot water soothed it. It soothed all of me.
Steam rose up from the water’s surface. I sighed. “Aamina, you are a stunning woman.”
“Ha!” she laughed. “That’s what my husband says when he’s done something wrong.” She tossed me a bar of sandalwood-scented soap. I held it in my hands, and my chest constricted. It smelled like Lo.
“Wash up, scream if you break anything,” Aamina said. She stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the door cracked open.
I rested the base of my head against the rim of the tub, soaking in the heat, watching my skin redden with it. It all seemed so unreal, yet even in my dreams I couldn’t fathom something as simple as a hot bath. I soaked for a long time, until the water cooled, before running the soap over my wrinkled toes, legs, torso, and gingerly over my back, relishing its scent. I smiled, and then a thought occurred to me. The soap slipped from my hands.
My family. I could see my family now.
I could return to Euwan.
I stared into the water, gaping and smiling. Father. Mother. Marrine. I had feared I would never see them again, never hear their voices or taste my mother’s home cooking. And Ashlen!
I thought of Imad and the tour, but it couldn’t happen, not anymore. The storm no longer followed me. But the Finger Mountains still held an abundance of water, and Imad had said next year should bring rain. Surely Zareed would thrive without me.
The thought of leaving the place that had saved me, the place I had called home for so long, spurred a cold pain at my center. But Euwan didn’t have to be forever. I could come back. I could feel the desert sun on my face day after day after day.
I jumped up from the tub, sloshing water over the floor, and grabbed my towel. I wrapped it around my body and rushed into the bedroom, dripping water. Aamina was changing the sheets and shouted something at me, but I didn’t hear what she said. I rushed to the window and threw the panes open.
Sunlight poured over me, golden and blinding and warm, as if God’s own breath washed over me.
“Have you lost your mind?” Aamina asked, hurrying to my side and feeling my forehead for a fever.
I shook my head, new tears trailing down my cheeks. The sun.
Your wish came true, Lo, I thought, a single tear cascading down my cheek. I can feel the sun.
“Of course you should go home!” Imad exclaimed, grabbing both of my hands in his. The action jarred the healing wound on my back, but my smile hid the wince. He had a firm, warm grip free of calluses and lotion-smooth. “Smeesa, you’ve given us
enough water to last through this drought and more besides. I will see you have everything you need, including an escort. There are bandits ready and willing to prey on pretty Northlander girls!”
I laughed and squeezed his hands. Warm. “It means more than you can know. But I don’t want to bother anyone—”
“I insist you bother all of us.” Imad laughed and released my hands. “I think Kitora can design some decent Northlander clothes, but you may need to direct her.”
“Oh, no! These are enough!”
He waved his hand like he was swatting a fly. “It is a long journey, and I know how Northlanders are.” He winked. “You can take your camel and retrieve a horse at the way station for the rest of the journey. You are good friends with Eyan, yes? He knows the way, and now that he won’t be manning the tour, he can escort you. With a few others, of course.”
I nodded, my cheeks sore from grinning. It seemed Eyan wouldn’t get the promotion he feared after all.
“But take your time, Smeesa,” he said, touching my arm. “It would devastate me if anything happened to you—I owe you my life. I want you fully healed before you make the trek there. And back. You must come back.”
I smiled. “And I owe you mine,” I said. I didn’t reply to his request to return . . . I didn’t know if I could, yet. Touching my face, I reassured myself that I hadn’t reverted back to my cursed self in the last twenty-four hours.
“You will dine with my father and me tonight, won’t you?” Imad asked, stepping aside to let Aamina fold my clothes. I would have stopped her and done it myself had Imad not demanded my attention.
“Yes,” I said, overeager. My first meal after waking had been the best one of my life. I had almost forgotten how to eat like a normal person. And I had never realized how spicy Zareedian curry really was! My tongue burned just at the thought of it.
Imad clapped his hands. “Excellent. Until tonight, then.”
“Imad?”
He paused at the door.
“Lo hasn’t returned yet, has he?”
“Not yet, but soon. I’m sure you’ll see him before you leave. Have you met Faida?”
A twinge. “Yes. She was very kind to me at your banquet.”
He smiled and stepped out of the room. The two guards who had followed him into the room trailed behind.
I did want to see Lo again, if only to say good-bye. Regardless of where either of us went in life, I considered him my dearest friend, the man who didn’t fear my curse and who brought me books to ease endless hours of free time. I still labored to fit the pieces of my heart back together, but I knew that, if I saw him again, I would not have to feign a smile.
I turned to Aamina, who had finished putting away my laundry. “How much longer will it take before I’m healed enough for travel?” I asked.
She thought for a moment. “A week, perhaps. The doctor can let us know for sure.”
“A week. That’s enough time for me to make a wedding gift, isn’t it?” A pang. “And something for my sister and my parents. You’ll help me, won’t you, Aamina? Oh! And I can see your nephew now!”
Aamina laughed. “Yes, you can! He’s such a fussy little babe, but he has his father’s face, so no one can stay mad at him for long. I worry I’ll be the only one with the heart to discipline him when he gets older, and he’ll run rampant through the city, stealing things and making the poor girls swoon. But how do beads sound? I bet you can hold a needle now. I’ll show you. Women love necklaces, even Northlander ones, so I hear. But is a necklace a proper wedding gift? Perhaps we should get you that big loom and work on a baby blanket! That’s as appropriate a wedding gift as any. The wee ones tend to come along awful quickly with the way Zareedian blood flows. Ha!”
I laughed with her, though the thought of Lo and Faida’s children pulled at those delicate pieces in my chest. How beautiful he would be, especially if he had his father’s eyes. Surely it would be a boy. For some reason, I pictured Lo first with a son, then a daughter.
Taking a deep breath, I agreed to rest while Aamina gathered yarn and beads for the gifts. She stayed with me the entire day, helping me plan the necklaces and the pattern of the blanket until a servant summoned me for my dinner with Imad. We ate with his father, who looked tired but well. He spoke in the cleanest Northlander I had heard since coming to Zareed, and he told me of a time he had gotten lost in the mountains of Iyoden as a boy. What a blessing it was to dine with a king and a prince—my dear friend—without worrying about causing them discomfort.
That night the doctor affirmed that my wound would take another week for it to heal enough for travel, and though I wanted to skip and play and dance in the sunlight, I focused on resting and eating well to build up my strength. Every day Aamina joined me in one of the palace’s sitting rooms to work on the gifts I was preparing. The fifth day after I awoke, I went to her sister’s small home and met Shukri, who was indeed the handsomest babe I had ever seen, and the sister a bigger gossip than Aamina herself!
Day six, I began packing my things and working with Kitora on a pattern for a Northlander dress, which she claimed would be much easier than her usual designs.
Day eight, I would leave Mac’Hliah.
On day seven, Lo returned to the palace.
CHAPTER 28
I heard his voice in the dining hall on my way to my bedroom for my last fitting with Kitora. My heart thrummed so quickly my head swirled, and I had to pause for a moment to regain my bearings. I had come to believe that I would not see him before I left for Euwan. Aamina had already agreed to deliver the baby blanket to him on my behalf.
My chest seemed to stretch downward like pulled taffy at the thought.
For a moment I held my breath, debating. Would it be better not to see him, to focus on the new opportunities before me, rather than on the one I had lost? I left tomorrow . . . Surely I could avoid him and Faida until then.
But my body already inched toward the dining hall. Lo’s voice draped over me like a warm blanket. He was talking to Imad. I peeked inside, but while I could see Imad, a drapery hid Lo from my view.
“—in the caverns. They’re empty.”
“That’s because she’s here, Lo, and leaving tomorrow.”
I pressed my palm to my drumming heart. They were talking about me.
“For Kittat?”
Imad laughed. “For Euwan!”
“What?”
“You haven’t heard? The captain of my own guard hasn’t heard so much as a rumor about the man who nearly killed me?”
Lo’s feet shifted forward, and his reply came out gruff. “Of course I heard; I rushed back to Mac’Hliah for that very reason. Imad, you are leading me in circles! What transpired while I was away?”
“A failed one, and the perpetrator was shot down before he could escape the city, thanks to Smeesa. Didn’t you notice the clear sky, Lo? Her curse has been lifted.”
Lo didn’t say anything. The room became silent, save for the sound of my own pulse in my ears.
I stepped inside and peered past the drapery, the sight of Lo making me blush—how strange it felt to actually blush again! I touched my cheeks to cool them. My pulse thrummed in the deep scar the arrow had left behind. He had trimmed his hair but still wore the short half beard. He didn’t wear his uniform, but commoner’s clothes in beige and tan. His gaze was fixed on Imad, his dark brows skewed. He did not see me.
I cleared my throat, and both men turned.
“I heard you were back, Lo,” I said, so nervous my voice trembled.
He stared at me as though looking at a stranger before his eyes went wide, but he maintained the rest of his composure.
Imad laughed. “I haven’t seen a face like that for weeks.” Clapping me on the shoulder, he said, “You’ve missed a lot, Lo. Seems as soon as you leave, the excitement arrives.”
I offered him a faint smile, but he only stared at me. I noticed a gold bracelet around his left wrist. One of Dideh Bab’s plays talked about a man who gave a wom
an a bracelet during a marriage ceremony. Was this the same?
The despair resurfaced in my chest, as fresh as it had been the day I met Faida. I swallowed hard as a lump formed in my throat. If only those three weeks of sleep had counted as time to heal this! His eyes on me . . . I felt like a frostbitten dagger was being plunged into my heart, twisting with my every breath. I thought I would be able to see him again, without it hurting . . .
How wrong I had been.
I cleared my throat again. “You look well. I hope you met no troubles on your trip.”
Perhaps noticing the discomfort that hung thick as a storm cloud, Imad began discussing the guard with Lo—something about their rounds and the newly hired men in training. Taking advantage of the opening, I excused myself and escaped into the hallway, brushing past a servant carrying an empty tray. I made it around the corner before a tear escaped me, but I brushed it away before it could so much as graze my nose. Taking a deep breath and clenching my jaw, I straightened my back and walked tall, blinking rapidly to dry my eyes.
Lo was happy. He had no bags under his eyes, no scruff, no stains on his clothes. Nothing to indicate stress. And despite my tears, I was relieved to see him looking so well and healthy. I wondered if Faida had come to the palace with him, and if she would move here for the sake of Lo’s work, or if they would find a house within the city.
I paused outside my bedroom door and glanced over my shoulder. No one had followed me. I took a moment to master myself—taking deep breaths, smiling, rolling my shoulders—before stepping inside.
“You’re late,” Kitora said, snipping a thread from the hem of my dress. It was another with a high waist, and was pale blue, with sleeves that cuffed with pearl buttons at the wrists. Lace adorned the high collar and the hem, which fell midcalf. It looked like something my mother would have made.
“Oh, Kitora,” I said, touching the finespun wool. “It’s wonderful.”
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