Throne of Sand (Desert Nights Book 1)

by Helena Rookwood

  “And this is my son, Prince Umar, heir to the Khirideshi throne.” The Sultan of Astaran inclined his head to my brother, who smiled amiably.

  I frowned beneath my veil. Of course, my five-year-old brother gets introduced to the sultan before his future bride.

  “Sultan, we are so very happy to have the unexpected pleasure of your visit.” Mother rose from what seemed like the longest curtsey of all time.

  The sultan gave her a warm smile, and she seemed to flush a little under his gaze. “Since there was a…last-minute change in our arrangement, my vizier suggested I might like to come and greet the princess in person.” He dipped his head. “I am so sorry for the loss of your eldest daughter.”

  Mother’s eyes swam with real tears. “You are very kind. As you have seen, the streets of Satra are still in mourning.”

  The sultan’s gaze ran over my mother’s bright green clothes, then flicked to Father’s and Umar’s ruby outfits. None could be considered traditional mourning attire.

  Mother seemed to realize this at the same time he did. “We decided we could not dwell in mourning today, not when our youngest daughter will be making so happy a match.” She led him toward me. “Please, let me introduce you to our daughter, and your bride, Scheherazade.”

  Oh spirits.

  My whole body felt clammy. All my mother’s instructions flew from my mind. Should I stand or remain seated? What should I say? Should I say nothing? I was suddenly very grateful for the material hiding my face. I hoped my makeup hadn’t rubbed off.

  Mother swept back my veil. I blinked at the change in light and looked up, meeting the sultan’s silent gaze.

  His eyes roamed my face, then farther down my body. Heat rose to my cheeks. If any other man had dared look at me like that… But there was something cool and disinterested about it, like he was appraising the contents of a treasure chest.

  I clasped my hands together in my lap and sat up straight, waiting.

  “Princess Scheherazade.” The sultan bowed stiffly.

  I lifted my chin. “Please, call me Zadie. Everyone does.” My voice was steady, despite the tight feeling in my throat.

  Mother glared at me. I didn’t know what she was worried about. I’d followed her rules, hadn’t I? I’d waited to speak until I was spoken to.

  “Pleased to meet you, Zadie. My name is Kassim,” the sultan replied formally. My name sounded foreign on his lips and sent a cold shiver down my legs, despite the heat. How could this strange, polite sultan be my betrothed?

  He turned away.

  Is that it? A brief introduction and he’s done with me?

  “I’m sorry for appearing unannounced. I’m usually one to adhere to tradition.” Kassim smiled pleasantly at my parents. “I just thought, considering the circumstances, it would be beneficial for both parties to meet.”

  “Of course.” Father smiled back at Kassim. “Are you sure you won’t stay the night? I can have the royal chambers prepared.”

  “I don’t plan to put you or your wife out any more than I already have. I shall return with the convoy today to escort Princess Zadie to Kisrabah, as planned.”

  I frowned. With so much treasure to be moved, I thought the convoy would have been a covert, heavily guarded affair. But with the sultan riding with us, and judging from the sounds of the elephants and the admiring throng outside, it appeared they had chosen to arrive with full pomp and ceremony. We’d attract far more attention than I’d thought.

  “Will more of your soldiers meet us at the Khiridesh-Astaran border?” I asked. “For safety?”

  My parents’ heads whipped around to look at me. Sultan Kassim turned to face me, too, his golden eyes flashing. My mother shook her head almost imperceptibly, her eyes wide.

  What?

  I just wanted to ensure we weren’t riding into danger. That was just good sense, not politics. There were bandits and thieves out there. Our own soldiers could protect us until we reached the border, but I wanted to know we would be protected after that.

  “Will there be–”

  “She’s never left Satra before,” Mother interrupted, moving to stand next to my throne. “She’s just a little nervous about being on the road.” She gave a high laugh.

  I furrowed my brows at her, then looked back at the sultan. “Actually, I wondered how many of your soldiers would be meeting us.”

  “You needn’t worry about your safety, Princess Zadie,” Sultan Kassim replied with a tight smile. He still didn’t elaborate or confirm how many soldiers there would be. From the looks of the treasure on display in the throne room, there were at least fifty chests traveling with us, and many more containing priceless art and other luxuries. If they were going to be on display, we’d need at least as many soldiers.

  “Would you like to see the rest of the dowry?” Father made swift work of changing the subject. I closed my mouth with a flash of irritation as everyone turned away once more.

  “Yes, let’s. Lead the way.”

  My father walked Sultan Kassim to the edge of the throne room, where the lids of each chest were thrown open to display the treasure inside. Umar jumped down from his throne and scampered off after them. They walked from chest to chest, admiring the heaped jewels and piles of gold plates and coins glittering in the sunlight.

  “What did I tell you about talking?” Mother hissed through a smile as she remained standing next to my chair.

  “I waited until I was spoken to–”

  “Smile.”

  “What?”

  “Smile. Stop looking so miserable.”

  “I am smiling. Besides, he’s not even looking.” I forced the corners of my mouth farther up anyway. “What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is he shouldn’t be here, Zadie.”

  How Mother managed to talk without moving her lips from their fixed smile was beyond me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Quiet. They’re coming back.”

  The two sultans returned to the thrones, Umar still trailing behind them.

  “I also have ten purebred Khirideshi stallions in the stables for you,” my father said.

  Kassim raised his eyebrows at this news.

  “But I hope everything you have seen here is to your liking.”

  “Well, I shall have my valuators check through first–”

  “Of course, of course.” Father nodded amenably.

  Kassim’s eyes locked onto mine, as if weighing up something internally. I knew I should probably break his gaze and look down at the floor demurely, but I couldn’t. My lips parted slightly.

  He was the first to look away.

  “Yes. I’m happy for this marriage to go ahead as planned,” he concluded.

  Hold on… What? The marriage has been in question this whole time?

  My mother’s shoulders relaxed.

  “We are so pleased to hear that.” Father sounded as relieved as Mother looked. Had they known all along what it meant for Kassim to come in person?

  Kassim nodded. “We’ll keep the same date for two months’ time – on All Spirits Day.”

  “That is perfectly agreeable to us.” My father smiled broadly. “It’ll give Lalana…” He winced at his error, “Zadie time to adjust to her new home.”

  Part of me was grateful I had passed the test and lived up to the long shadow Lalana had cast. But Kassim had only seen me all dressed up in finery and slathered in makeup. He’d never seen me looking like, well…me. Would the advantageous political alliance and the chests of treasure be enough to keep the marriage in place when he’d originally been promised the most beautiful girl in the kingdom?

  I hoped it would be. After all, he’d just accepted those terms.

  And he didn’t know it yet, but Kassim would be getting something much better than beauty. A future sultanah who actually knew and cared about how the kingdom was run.

  “Shall we meet with my vizier to discuss the new trade agreement?” Father clapped his hands together. “I’ll arran
ge for some refreshments, then perhaps we can visit the stables to look at those stallions.”

  I stood to follow, but Mother grabbed my wrist in a vice-like grip and pulled me closer to her.

  “Shouldn’t I go with them?” I asked. “I have ideas for the trade agreement, especially about how we can use the port in Astaran to–”

  “Actually, I was hoping Sultanah Indira might join us.” Sultan Kassim turned back to us, his amber eyes coming to rest on Mother.

  My heart swelled and I yanked my arm back, looking pointedly at my mother. I knew it. This was a sultan who would treat his sultanah fairly.

  Mother’s painted lips formed a perfect O-shape, her eyes widening in surprise. “Me?”

  “Indira?” My father echoed, sounding just as confused, his brow creased. He looked suspiciously in my direction, as though I might somehow be responsible for such a request.

  “If it’s no trouble.” Kassim inclined his head. “I have some questions about magical artifacts, and I’ve heard the sultanah is something of an expert on the subject.”

  Mother’s hand flew to the talismans and amulets around her neck, the chains clinking loudly as she bundled them together.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Ambar, the merchant Lalana had fled the palace to be with, had sourced most of my mother’s magical objects.

  But, of course, Kassim didn’t know that.

  Father cleared his throat. “There are plenty in the dowry, as discussed–”

  “Of course, of course.” Kassim held his hand up. “I’m interested in developing Astaran’s mystical acquisitions program, and I have a few specific questions about talismans, which I hope your wife might be able to help me with.”

  A mystical acquisitions program? I frowned. Nothing in my reading about Astaran had suggested the sultan was interested in magical artifacts. I cast a look back at my mother, still clutching at the talismans around her neck, her cheeks pink. She was clearly flustered by Kassim’s unexpected request.

  But pleasure swelled in my chest. Not only had the sultan defied my parents’ expectations by insisting my mother join in discussions about the dowry, he had acknowledged the expertise she had to offer. Once we were outside the confines of my parents’ palace, I was sure he’d come to see that I was an expert in some things, too. Perhaps he’d listen to my suggestions regarding Astaran’s port once we were alone.

  “It’s settled then.” Recovering himself, my father put his arm around the sultan’s shoulders and began to lead him away. “Indira will join us for refreshments in the garden room, and she can happily answer any questions of yours. We can take a look at those stallions afterward.”

  “I’ll come with you,” I said hopefully, taking a step after them.

  “There’s no need, Zadie,” Mother said in a strained voice, grabbing my arm and pulling me back to her side. “You will return to your chambers to ensure all of your belongings are ready to go.” She lowered her voice. “Just be glad your chatter didn’t put him off. And make sure your handmaids touch up your makeup before you leave. You’re sweating it all off.”

  I frowned, about to raise my objections, when a small hand tugged at my sleeve, making me stop.

  Umar looked up at me, his eyes full of tears. “Do you have to leave now, Zadie? We can’t ride the ponies anymore?”

  “Yes. Your sister is leaving to get married,” Mother cut in before I could answer. “It’s a happy day,” she added when his lower lip began to tremble. She shot a stern look back in my direction when I didn’t immediately agree. “Zadie, your handmaids are waiting for you.”

  They emerged from the shadows, waiting to lead me back to my chambers. I hovered, casting one last wistful look after the sultan and my father.

  “Zadie.” Mother pinched my arm, fixing a smile on her face as Kassim turned back to see why she hadn’t followed. “Do as you’re told. Before the sultan changes his mind.”

  Chapter Three

  Perched on top of a large elephant, the palanquin lurched with each step the animal took away from Satra, and my old life. Two handmaids sat opposite me, silent and wide-eyed, as the orange-curtained walls swayed nauseatingly around us. The air inside was thick and hot. I pressed my eyes closed. I’d been feeling sick for the last few hours, and this only made it worse.

  “Are you okay, Princess Zadie?” Mehri asked tentatively. My handmaid had squealed with excitement when she had seen the elephant and the palanquin that would take us to our new home. Even after several hours in this horrible orange box, she didn’t look sick at all. Her ebony skin glowed and her wide eyes seemed to sparkle with the excitement of it all. “Would you like some water?”

  I nodded and took a small sip of the warm water she offered. It did little to quell the queasy feeling churning away in my stomach.

  “Olive?”

  I put a fist to my lips and shook my head, trying not to retch at the sight of the small bowl she held out.

  “I want to get out and walk for a while,” I grumbled, not for the first time.

  “I don’t think that’s wise. We’re much safer in the palanquin.” Jevera, the other handmaid, spoke now. She was from Astaran. We’d met for the first time several hours ago, the moment I stepped foot into this spirits-cursed palanquin. She was tiny with a narrow waist and thin arms, which she had crossed when I first suggested I get out of the palanquin…and had remained crossed since.

  “You’ll ruin your lovely slippers.” Mehri gestured at my jeweled shoes.

  “I’m at least opening the curtains to let in some air.” I unfastened the tasseled golden ropes and wrenched the curtains open before they could protest.

  Soft, lilac skies and golden sand stretched out to the horizon. If I poked my head out far enough, there was a slight evening breeze. The whole palanquin lurched to the side as I leaned out farther and gulped in the fresh air. Something twinkled on the horizon at the top of the dune, like sun on metal.

  Beyond the rough body of the elephant, the convoy snaked into the distance. There were other elephants, soldiers, guards on horses, and servants on foot, large poles mounted with the treasure chests slung between them. Behind us was the final part of my dowry – the Khirideshi horses, their white flanks and earthy-brown manes gleaming in the sunlight.

  As I returned to my wretched cushion, the palanquin swayed dramatically before righting itself once more. Both handmaids exhaled at the same time.

  I drummed my fingers against my knees. “Is Kassim in a palanquin, too?” I asked Jevera.

  She scrunched up her face. “Of course not.” She laughed dismissively. “The sultan always rides with his soldiers. He’ll be at the head of the procession.” Her voice was filled with pride.

  Interesting.

  I stared out of the palanquin, watching the horizon undulate in time with the elephant’s steady plodding. I’d never seen the sea before, I’d only read about it, but this was what I imagined sailing in a ship might be like. Rolling and swaying above the waves, everything floating, nothing stable.

  My mouth filled with saliva. If I stayed here much longer, I really might be sick.

  “I’m getting out,” I declared, using the curtains on either side to pull myself into a hunched-over standing position. “Stop the elephant!” I called out of the flap.

  “Princess Zadie, you really mustn’t–”

  I ignored my handmaid’s protests. “I need to get down,” I called out to the invisible handler of our four-legged bearer. With a lurch that sent me flying into Mehri and Jevera, the elephant knelt. The whole palanquin tipped forward and the ground came a little closer.

  “Princess Zadie.” A strong, tan arm appeared at the opening, helping me down to the elephant’s foreleg, then the soft sand. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “Thank you.” I let go of the elephant handler’s arm and dusted down my crumpled skirts over the pants beneath. “You can keep going. I’m going to ride for a while.” The man nodded and clambered
back up to his seat behind the animal’s head.

  “Ride?” Jevera called down as the elephant stood again. She looked horrified.

  Mehri’s face appeared next to her. While she didn’t look impressed, she also didn’t look the least bit surprised.

  At the back of the elephant, a mounted guard led the Khirideshi stallions in a line. They glistened like pearls against the sand.

  “I’m going to ride with the sultan,” I told the guard, removing the closest horse from its tether.

  Kassim’s eyes widened as I slowed from a canter to draw level with him at the head of the convoy. I smiled in greeting. I would let him talk first. I remembered my obedient princess lessons.

  “Princess Zadie?” He stared incredulously at me, then glanced back toward the palanquin, now little more than a speck in the distance. “Are you quite well?” He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “What are you doing?”

  I mirrored his gesture, leaning toward him conspiratorially with a hand resting on my stomach. “The palanquin didn’t agree with me.” I sat upright with a smile. It felt good to be out in the fresh air, the horse’s back warm against my thighs. “I wanted to ride for a while. And I thought you might like the company.”

  Kassim frowned. “It isn’t proper for us to be alone together before the wedding.”

  I laughed, then abruptly stopped when I realized he wasn’t joking. I looked pointedly back at the thirty or so guards riding directly behind us. “But we’re not alone.”

  “Well…” Kassim looked at the guards with a flash of irritation. “It’s…” Whatever he was about to say next was lost as he looked at my horse. “Are you riding without a saddle?”

  I knew the answer, but I looked down at the horse’s bare back anyway. “Oh… I am, yes. It’s fine. I rode with just a bridle all the time at home.” I knotted my hands through the animal’s terracotta mane. The color always reminded me of sunbaked earth.