“Did you hear?” she asks.
“Yes. Where’s Princess Caspida?”
“With her father. I’m headed there now.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Nessa and I race down the corridor. Word must be spreading of the king’s bad turn, because people are beginning to emerge from their rooms, and the halls are filled with whispers.
We reach the king’s chambers, which are near Caspida’s and just inside the lamp’s perimeter. A small crowd has already gathered, mostly nobles in their nightgowns, their hair and makeup stillremaining from the night of revelry. A group of guards block the door, repelling any who try to enter.
“Nessa!”
Khavar and another handmaiden are standing nearby, and they wave us over.
“Any word?” asks Nessa.
Khavar shakes her head. “Caspida’s inside, with Sulifer and the physicians. No one has come out.”
“Excuse me,” I say, backing away. “I should go back to Prince Rahzad.”
The girls nod distractedly, not noticing that the corridor I take leads in the opposite direction of Aladdin’s rooms. When I’m alone, I shift into a small sand-colored lizard and scurry back toward the king’s chambers.
I weave through the feet of the nobles gathered outside the door, dart over one guard’s boot, and slip beneath the door. Tongue flicking, I cross several opulent chambers before I reach the king’s bed. The air here is thick with simmon smoke, and the people gathered around his bed all wear cloths tied over their mouths and noses. Caspida kneels by the bed, her hands wrapped around her father’s. She is still wearing her Fahradan gown.
The physicians stand in a cluster on one side of the room, and judging by their grim expressions, they have given up. A group of women huddle at the foot of the bed, weeping. Sulifer and Darian stand over the bed, silent and pensive.
Malek’s skin is yellow and crusty, his cheeks sunken, his eyes ringed with shadows so dark they’re like smeared kohl. His breath comes ragged and uneven, his chest barely rising at all.
Caspida’s eyes are dry and fixed on her father’s face, burningwith ferocity, as if she is trying to will him back to life. I crawl up the post of his bed and hang upside down from the ceiling, held in place by the sticky pads on my lizard toes. My round reptilian eyes enable me to see everyone at once.
Sulifer is holding a sheet of parchment and an inked quill, and he bends over his brother, speaking in a low voice.
“For the good of the people, Malek,” he says, “you must ensure that this transition be as stable as possible.”
“Leave him alone!” Caspida snaps. “He’sdying, you vulture!”
Sulifer regards her with pity. “Even on his deathbed, a king has responsibilities. Take notice and learn, Princess.”
She glares as he leans lower and puts the quill into Malek’s hand, holding his brother’s wrist so the king can press the tip to the parchment.
“Please, brother,” Sulifer murmurs. “Your people will sing praises of your wisdom and foresight. With a king and queen to rule after you, they will feel safe, and your enemies will tremble. For who can stand against ones so well matched as my son and your daughter? Let your last act bless their happiness and ensure your legacy.”
Malek’s feverish eyes rove from Caspida to his brother, and he moans.
“Get away!” Caspida rises and throws a finger toward the door, her eyes burning at her uncle. “I will call the guards!”
“Stop acting like a spoiled child,” Sulifer says patiently. “Your father is dying, and you insist on throwing tantrums.”
“Baba, please,” she says, taking her father’s face in her hands. “I love you. Don’t do this.”
“It was he who arranged this match years ago,” Sulifer says.“Will you defy his wishes now, when he is a breath away from the eternal godlands?”
“He was led by the nose,” she fires back. “This wasyourdoing! You swayed him to your will when he was left weak by my mother’s death!”
“You dare call the king weak?” Darian interjects hotly. “You dare question his will?”
“You dare to usurp him!” she cries. “And to manipulate a man at his weakest! I won’t let you bully him into signing your stupid decree!”
