I had always been grateful to be allowed my freedom, to roam in and out of the palace as I wished, to read, ride, and write. I had been happy Lalana was the one destined to marry, and that, as the middle child between the perfect first daughter and younger male heir, my parents’ attention on me had been limited. But had she ever resented it?
I reached the top of the wall. My breath caught, and worries about Safiyya and Lalana disappeared from my mind.
Below us, Kassim sparred with one of his soldiers.
His shoulder-length hair was tied back, and even from the top of the wall, I could make out the serious expression on his face, his brow lowered in concentration. He moved fluidly, like the dancers I had seen in the palace back home, the blade of his scimitar flashing silver as it caught the light. He had stripped to the waist, and my body tingled at the rippling strength in his chest and arms, the way his dark skin glistened in the bright sun.
My mouth went dry, my cheeks hot, as I took in the man I was betrothed to.
“Zadie?” Safiyya’s voice came loudly from behind me.
“Shh!” I pulled her down beside me as I crouched. I was still certain there was no reason I shouldn’t have come to see the training grounds, but somehow, I now felt uncomfortable.
She looked up. “Oh. It’s Kassim and Elian.” Safiyya sounded more worried now that we were here, her voice still too loud for my liking.
Elian… I’d been introduced to him briefly yesterday. “What does Elian do?”
“He’s captain of the guard.” Safiyya’s cheeks turned pink. “After Hepzibah, he and Namir are Kassim’s most trusted advisors.”
I looked back down at the two men sparring below us, quick as two vipers battling in the sand.
“Have you seen enough now, Zadie? I think we ought to get back–”
“I think you ought to explain what you’re doing here in the first place,” a measured voice said from above us.
Safiyya’s gaze snapped up. “Hepzibah!” she gasped.
The vizier looked down at us, her face unreadable. Where had she even come from? She wore the same style of long, flowing robes she had worn for the parade yesterday, and with the sun behind her, she cut a dark figure, like a palm in the desert.
“It’s my fault,” I said quickly. “I wanted to see the training grounds.”
The vizier raised an eyebrow as she looked down pointedly at the shirtless Kassim, and my cheeks heated. Spirits, with my face flaming like this, she’ll never believe I’m not spying on the sultan. I didn’t want her to think I was some foolish girl unable to tear herself away from the man she was to marry.
“I’m very interested in warfare,” I added lightly. “So I thought I might–”
“Safiyya,” the vizier said firmly. “I think you and your handmaids ought to return to the gardens. I will escort Princess Scheherazade to her chambers. I’m disappointed you thought this was an appropriate place to bring the princess on her tour. You know what your brother would think if he saw Zadie here.”
Safiyya’s eyes welled with tears. “Of course, Hepzibah,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Send Zadie’s handmaids back to her chambers and have them wait for her there.”
Safiyya hung her head and shuffled back to the steep staircase, her handmaids all rushing to help her down the narrow steps. I looked worriedly after her. I hadn’t wanted to get Safiyya in trouble…
“After you, princess.” The vizier gestured for me to move along the walkway, around the edge of the courtyard where Kassim still sparred below.
I swallowed. If the sultan saw me, what would he think? I felt my mood sour as I recalled his lecture at the palace gates. I wasn’t sure spying on his training session was exactly in keeping with his expectations… I began inching along the walkway, wishing I were wearing shoes with better grip instead of my new silk slippers.
At least I could still see something of the training grounds from up here. More courtyards spilled away from the palace, stretching out toward the shimmering pale sky and desert beyond, and I saw the shadowy outlines of tiny figures sparring in similar sequences to the ones I had seen Kassim following.
It had to be tiring to train in the midday heat. But an army that could fight in these temperatures would be stronger than most, and such a demanding training regime suggested resilient, obedient soldiers.
I squinted against the bright sunlight. The courtyards seemed to go on endlessly. If all of this housed the city guard, Kassim’s army must be huge…
Then my heart leapt. Toward the far end of the training grounds was a cluster of wooden buildings that looked promisingly like stables.
“I suggest you keep your eyes on the walkway, princess,” the vizier said from behind me. “It would be all too easy to slip.”
I dropped my gaze to the path beneath my feet. Slipping now would do nothing to alleviate the embarrassment I felt that the vizier had caught me staring at the shirtless Kassim.
Silently, we followed the walkway around to a little door into the palace, then walked down a series of cool, shuttered corridors until we finally stopped outside the door to my own chambers. Or was it? It was difficult to tell after winding through so many long, marble corridors lined with the same dark wooden doors.
I hesitated outside the door. Was there anything I could say that might convince the vizier I was more than just some silly girl caught peeking at her husband-to-be? Even if Kassim didn’t understand me, surely a woman wise enough to hold the position of Royal Vizier would?
“Princess Zadie,” she said delicately, “would you mind if I offered you some unsolicited advice?”
“Of course!” I brightened. Maybe I hadn’t given her the wrong impression of me after all. “A woman with your position in the palace must be the best person to advise the future Sultanah of Astaran.”
She paused. “Of course, I hope to advise you as best I can when you are sultanah,” she said slowly, “but for now, I hope to help you…adjust to life here in Kisrabah.”
My smile faltered.
“Please, don’t take this the wrong way,” she said. “But part of my role within the palace is to ensure Kassim gets all he deserves. And it will soon be to ensure the same for you. So it will be better for everyone if we can all just…get along in our roles.”
I took a deep breath. “You don’t understand. I want to get along with Kassim. I want this marriage to go well. I… I think I can be a good sultanah.”
“And you will be, I’m sure,” the vizier said encouragingly. “But this evening, the most important people in Astaran will all be gathered to see you. And you should be aware that they, like Kassim, expect to find a demure, deferential beauty as his intended.”
I winced. If that was really what they were hoping for, I had a feeling they were going to be disappointed.
“Kassim just wants to show you off,” the vizier said, her gaze flicking over my face and clothes. “He wants the whole world to know he has the most beautiful woman in the twelve kingdoms on his arm. He doesn’t want to worry that he’ll be upstaged by his bride’s carefully considered opinions on penalties for theft, however insightful they may be.”
I frowned down at my silk slippers, uncertain whether I ought to be flattered or insulted by her comments. “Have there really been serious thefts from the palace?” I asked at last, changing the subject. “And no one has any idea at all how the thieves are getting in?”
The vizier gave a thin smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Just how serious had these thefts been? Is the dowry at risk?
“You understand it isn’t that I believe a princess ought to be silent at all times.” I couldn’t help but notice she avoided answering my question. “It isn’t even that I disagree with what you said outside the palace. I just wouldn’t want Kassim to send you back–”
“He wouldn’t,” I said quickly. “This alliance is as important to Astaran as it is to Khiridesh.”
The vizier gave me a sad smile. “Believe me, princess, if K
assim thinks you’ll make him look weak, he’ll send you right back to Khiridesh, dowry or not.”
My stomach clenched. What would happen if he decided I was the wrong choice?
“What would you have me do?” I asked.
Her expression softened. “Be patient with Kassim. Tolerate his moods. Show him you can be the traditional, doting wife he needs. Just be more…”
She didn’t need to finish. I already knew who I needed to be more like.
She wanted me to be the princess Kassim had hoped for.
Lalana.
Chapter Six
The sounds of gasping and squealing swelled in the air. In honor of our betrothal, all the finest performers in Kisrabah had been invited to perform at the palace. The lawns and the courtyards spilled over with the greatest talent the city had to offer.
Fire-eaters burned and smoked, fortune tellers persuaded spirits to whisper secrets about the future, and snake charmers coaxed huge, black serpents from baskets.
Just as Safiyya had told me, great warriors whirled and spun their scimitars in incredible displays of swordsmanship just outside the tent, all for the great honor of being named the new sultanah’s champion.
And I was missing all of it.
I sank lower into my cushion, bitterly disappointed I was to remain inside the huge, silk-draped tent erected at the foot of the lawns, only catching glimpses of the action when someone swept in through the flaps. Kassim had been in and out of the tent all evening, always followed by Elian and Namir. None of them had spoken to me.
Barely anyone had spoken to me, actually, and those who had did little more than bow their heads and mutter a deferential welcome.
I supposed I couldn’t blame them. I wanted to leave this incense-soaked tent and see the rest of the performances, too.
I shifted on the cushion again, my new gold skirts scratching me where thousands of tiny crystals pressed into the backs of my legs.
“Zadie, you should try one of these.” Safiyya waved a golden plate of delicate tarts under my nose. “You can only get them in Kisrabah.”
Luckily, the princess didn’t seem the type to hold a grudge. After all, I had gotten her into trouble. But it seemed the incident this afternoon had already been forgotten.
“Thanks, Safiyya.” I took one of the tarts and popped it into my mouth. It was delicious. Honey oozed onto my tongue, the bitter taste of almonds balancing out the sweetness. “These are amazing.”
She smiled happily. “Aren’t they? They’re my favorite. Kassim left them for me.”
I looked out across the low tables running along either side of the tent, wishing Kassim had been as considerate for his new bride. The tables bowed under the weight of plump figs, leaf-wrapped cheeses, spiced lamb stews, piles of steaming flatbreads, and sweet pastries dripping in syrup and nuts.
But even though this feast was supposed to be in honor of the new sultanah, I apparently wasn’t going to be able to eat any of it, stuck here on the divan at the far end of the tent.
My stomach rumbled loudly, and I eyed the plate of tarts next to Safiyya. “Can I have another?”
But she had started talking about something else, pointing out the choice of colors for the evening, everything in the white and gold of the Astarian royal family, and sighing over how many of the guests had thoughtfully dressed in consideration of that.
For once, I was grateful for the makeup Mehri and Jevera had plastered onto my face. Perhaps it would disguise the simmering irritation I felt at being cooped up all night.
“Princess Scheherazade.”
I jumped and looked up at the sound of a cool, drawling voice, startled that someone had actually spoken to me.
Kassim surveyed me critically, his gaze running over my golden vest and skirts and coming to rest on my carefully painted face.
I tried to channel my mother’s advice. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Be obedient. Smile. Perhaps if I did that, I would endear myself enough to Kassim that he might listen to my ideas for the kingdom. Or at least allow me a little more freedom around the palace.
I contorted my face into my sweetest smile, inclining my head instead of speaking.
He just frowned. “How are you enjoying the festivities this evening?”
I looked at him incredulously. Is he serious? Surely he knew I hadn’t been allowed out to see any of it. “It’s a very beautiful tent,” I offered noncommittally.
His frown deepened and he shot a look at Safiyya, as though seeking confirmation I was being serious. She just smiled serenely.
“Dance with me,” he said suddenly, extending a hand.
My insides roiled. Dancing would definitely draw attention to me in all the wrong ways…
Could I confess to Kassim just how little I’d practiced the formal dances of court he’d no doubt perfected? My parents had never pressed me to join in with Lalana’s lessons, and when I had discovered my lack of aptitude for dancing, I never bothered. I wanted to be known for the quickness of my mind, not my steps. How was I supposed to know that this would be a vital skill one day?
Spirits, the elephant I’d ridden here would do a better job of dancing with Kassim than I would. And, if I were being honest, I’d get more out of dancing with an elephant than this sullen sultan.
“Zadie.” Kassim’s expression grew harder when I didn’t take his hand immediately. “It’s tradition for the sultan to invite his bride-to-be to dance at her welcome to Kisrabah.”
Ah. So that explained why he’d asked me.
I got to my feet slowly, wincing as my new golden slippers pinched my toes, and accepted his hand.
A hush fell over the rest of the tent, until the only sound was that of the musicians playing ouds, flutes, and soft drums in the corner. Then, as if they knew what was coming, the musicians stopped playing too.
Kassim halted in the middle of the floor. Only with him standing before me did I realize how perfectly my glittering, gold vest and skirts complemented the shimmering, pale gold robes he wore. My stomach turned again. We looked like a matching set. But when everyone saw us dancing, I had no doubt it would become apparent how unsuited we were.
He took my hands.
“Can you take it slowly?” I blurted.
Kassim’s brows lowered.
“I’m… I’m just a little nervous in front of everyone.”
“Can you dance or not?”
My temper flared. “Well, you’re about to find out, aren’t you?”
The sultan looked livid, but as the musicians started up again, he had no choice but to begin moving us around in slow circles.
Even if it was just because I might embarrass the both of us, I was grateful Kassim moved slowly, as I’d requested, allowing me to observe so I could follow his steps. To my relief, he wasn’t as graceful a dancer as he was a warrior. His stiff, serious nature seemed to be reflected in the way he moved.
Reassured I wasn’t going to embarrass him, I felt myself relax a little. My hand trailed over his arm, feeling his taut muscles beneath his robes, and my breath quickened as I recalled seeing those arms, bare and brown, when he’d been sparring.
“So, are you going to tell me why you were lurking at the training grounds earlier?”
Lurking? If only I enjoyed Kassim’s conversation as much as I admired his arms…
The sultan leaned closer as we circled around the tent, his breath hot on my cheek. “Hepzibah told me not to mention it to you, but I wanted to hear why the Princess of Khiridesh felt the need to spend her first day in the palace spying on me.”
I tried not to be too crushed that the vizier had told Kassim she’d caught me there. “I was not spying on you. How can I be spying in my own palace?”
“It’s not yours just yet,” he said crisply.
I scowled. “Perhaps we’d better focus on just dancing. I wouldn’t want to step on your foot.”
There was a pause before the sultan spoke again. “You know, you’re not as bad a dancer as you made it sound lik
e you would be.”
“And you’re worse than I thought you would be, so maybe we’re a well-suited pair after all.”
He gave a low laugh, and I blinked at him in surprise. The haughty sultan found me funny?
“I’m not used to everyone looking at me,” I admitted. “It’s daunting, knowing that everyone will see if you slip up.”
His lips quirked up. “You should get used to it. Everyone will be looking at you when you’re sultanah.”
I surveyed him carefully, my eyes narrowed a little. That sounded disarmingly like…a compliment?
“Excuse me, sultan.”
A gruff voice sounded to my left, and Kassim abruptly stopped leading me around the dance floor.
A man with a mop of curly hair, who was dressed in very fine, black-and-gold robes, stood sheepishly to one side. I recognized him from the gates, but I’d already forgotten his name. His gaze slid apologetically to me before returning to Kassim.
“Some news has come in. I’m afraid it can’t wait.”
The sultan dropped my hand instantly. “The thieves again?”
The man shot me another look. “No. But it’s best if we don’t speak about it here.”
Kassim nodded. “Zadie, return to your seat by Safiyya. Come on, Namir.” He didn’t glance back at me before striding off across the tent.
I bit my lip. Hadn’t Safiyya said that Namir was one of Kassim’s most trusted advisors? I didn’t believe for a moment this didn’t have to do with those mysterious thieves I’d heard so much about already.
I was suddenly conscious of everyone staring at me, no doubt wondering why the sultan had abruptly left his bride-to-be in the middle of our dance.
So much for tradition.
I paused. I could go back to my cushion and Safiyya’s idle chatter. But if there was a threat to the palace, I should know about it. After all, it was my dowry at risk now.
I glanced in the direction Kassim and Namir had marched off, then walked slowly after them, head held high, as though it were perfectly expected that I should follow.
For the first time, I was grateful no one seemed particularly interested in me. Or perhaps they were already drunk. Everyone clutched goblets of a rich, red wine, and the heavily perfumed air made me giddy, even without alcohol. I prayed Kassim didn’t glance behind him. They made for the far corner of the tent where the vizier waited.
Throne of Sand (Desert Nights Book 1) Page 5
