Together, they brought their hands down into the basin. Pressing their palms into the flames, they left the imprint of their fingers, and their oath, in the ivory sand.
“So it is thus sealed,” Leo said, and with a clap of his hands, the flames died with a whisper.
Arish brought forward a silver bowl of water. Samson and Yassen dipped their hands in it to ease their burns. Neither flinched as Arish wrapped cool, aloe-covered cloths around their palms. Elena caught Yassen’s eyes, and she breathed in sharply. In the light of the room, they looked white as the tips of the far-off, snowcapped mountains. As white as the blinding glare of the sun.
He truly is one of the unforgiven.
“You have come a long way,” Leo said. “Retire to your rooms and rest. We will reconvene later with my generals, and I expect your troops to be in position by then.”
“You have my word,” Samson promised.
Leo turned to Yassen and gave him a hard look. Then he leaned forward and whispered something in his ear that she could not hear. The traitor bowed deeper in response.
He then looked at Arish, signaling that this audience was over.
“The guards will escort you to your chambers,” Arish announced.
The three men dipped their heads as she and her father exited. They entered the adjoining chamber, where Ferma stood waiting.
“Well, did he propose?” Ferma asked, a slow smile spreading on her face.
“I accepted,” Elena said sourly.
“Then a celebration must be in order.” Ferma grinned wider. “What say you, Arish?”
“Yes, we must announce the union soon,” he said, closing the door behind them. “A ball, perhaps.”
Elena turned to Leo, who took off his crown and set it on a cushion. He had been silent through all this.
“What do you think, Father?” she said.
“Whatever you wish,” he said as he sank into the chair behind his red marble desk. Elena waited, but he said nothing more. Not even an utterance of congratulations. It stung her, his silence. He had chosen this marriage, and she had accepted (mostly) without complaint so thattheirkingdom could be safe. She did not expect praise, not even a smile. But surely, her father could spare his blessings.
Elena moved to speak, to remind him, but her father was looking away, his eyes far off. Her plea died in her chest.
“I hear Yassen Knight will join us. My team, specifically,” Ferma said.
“Yes, he’ll be a part of Elena’s guard,” Leo said, finally turning to them.
“But he’s half-Jantari,” Elena said, “and former Arohassin. Is it wise to keep him so close?”
“Yes. You can keep eyes on him,” Leo said.
“Eyes I can’t spare while preparing for a coronation. Let him stay with Samson.”
“He will stay with you. Trust me, Elena,” he sighed. “I know how to keep this kingdom safe, and shall do so until you are crowned its queen.”
She wanted to tell him that she could help him, if he would only trust her. If he would only teach her to sit in the flames. But Elena, once more, held her tongue. The desert picked its battles.
In her chambers, the sheer curtains danced in the late summer breeze. Elena sank onto a bench before the large window. Below was her private garden filled with lotus flowers and the sweet jasmine her mother loved, or at least that’s what Diya, her handmaid, had told her. A sand-colored yuani bird washed itself in the golden fountain. Elena watched it as Ferma sat down beside her.
“Your father is right,” she said gently. “We can watch Yassen Knight closely.”
“I don’t believe him,” Elena said. To her horror, the burn of tears threatened as she recalled the distracted look in her father’s eyes. “Yassen Knight has no honor. He will escape when he gets the chance.”
“Elena, there’s no place to escape to. Only the desert,” Ferma said.
“You don’t know that,” she said, almost to herself. The desert was full of hidden places. She had seen them, curled up in them. The desert opened itself up for those who knew how to use it, and something told her Yassen Knight was smart enough to realize that.
