“I thought I heard rumours that you were engaged to a princess from one of the desert clans.” I’m probing where I shouldn’t, but now he’s opened a part of himself to me I cannot help but want to know more.
“That did not work out.” He laughs awkwardly and rubs at the back of his neck. “The tribe wanted magical gems as payment, but we were unable to fulfill our side of the bargain so the marriage was called off.”
“Oh.” Well, this is awkward, especially considering that I am now the provider of said magical gems. “Well, now I’m here, you might be able to marry her still.”
Why do the words taste like acid on my tongue? An uncomfortable tightness wraps around my chest at the idea of the prince marrying one of the tribes daughters. I’m not jealous, I don’t wish to be married to the prince, yet there is something there that causes a part of me to protest.
At the end of the day, he needs to marry for his kingdom, so a princess from the tribes seems good enough as anyone. Plus, he seems sad that it was called off, but my production of the magical gems means that this could go ahead now.
Looking away from my intense stare, he gazes out over the fountain, although I get the impression he’s not really seeing it. “Yes. Perhaps,” he replies, shoulders slumping.
Well, that is not the response I was expecting. Maybe I was wrong and it wasn’t sadness that he couldn’t marry the princessthat I sensed, but self-deprecation for not being able to serve his country in the way expected of him?
“You are not happy about this?”
Leaning forward, he shakes his head, still not looking at me. “I always knew my Queen would be chosen for me as a political manoeuvre. Love matches are not common in royal marriages.” Snorting, he continues. “I just hoped that with the deal broken, I might be given more choice. Don’t get me wrong, I will do what is needed for my country, but if I am to be married to one woman for the rest of my life, shouldn’t I have a say in who it is?”
He is so passionate about his country and dedicating his life to his people, no matter the sacrifices, and all he asks in return is a say in his future partner. Does he really have no voice? Amir is the crown prince. He will be king someday, so it feels wrong that he is silenced this way. From what he was saying previously, it sounds like his father doesn’t hear him anyway, so the likelihood that he will start now is slim.
Suddenly, I feel a kinship for him. It is easy to look up at the palace from the Gutter and make assumptions, to think the prince is one of the most powerful people in the city, yet he has less freedom that I did as one of the sullied. I may have lived in squalor, but my choices were my own.
“Oh. I hadn’t realised how trapped you were.”
My words seem to have an effect on him and he slowly sits up, mulling them over in his mind. “Trapped is a good way of explaining it.” Huffing out a laugh, he attempts to shake off the feeling of melancholy that has settled over us. “Anyway, things are shaping up to be much more interesting.” He smiles at me and it tugs something in my chest.
Me. He’s talking about me, his whole expression warming at he watches me. He seems genuinely happy to be sitting here with me, and what he just shared is clearly something that has been weighing on him for a long time. Amir chose me to share thatwith. Out of all of the people in the palace, he chose someone who was once sullied. That makes me feel… seen.
A deep ache in my chest reveals a shadowed, fractured part of me that I didn’t know existed. The desire to be considered equal, to be seen as more than the gods rejected subject. Amir is awakening that part of me, along with something I never thought I would need. The desire to be loved. I am no fool, I know the prince doesn’t love me, but there is a spark in his eyes that tells me he sees me as a woman, and someone he is able to bond with.
I must be truly desperate, as an overpowering need takes over me, and leaning toward him, I press my lips against his.
I don’t know what I’m thinking or what is coming over me, but my body has taken control and is moving before my rational mind can stop me. As my mind starts to catch up though, I realise that perhaps I don’t want this to stop.
Amir makes a startled noise in the back of this throat and I almost pull back in horror as what I’m doing starts to sink in. Cheeks reddening, I want to run and hide in shame, but he is suddenly returning the kiss before I can move. It starts gently, light, fluttering kisses like the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Soft fingers caress my arm, pulling me closer, and a deep noise of satisfaction emits from his chest. I didn’t realise it was possible to be turned on by a single noise, but it sparks an arousal through me in a tidal wave, washing away any sensible thought. His lips press back against mine and I lean into him, feeling the slight weight of him against me. A pressure against my lips has me opening my mouth, his tongue seeking entrance. They collide, deepening the kiss as a hunger takes over me.
A bird of prey calls out loudly overhead, interrupting our moment as it circles in search of its next meal. Suddenly, I remember where we are. I am alone in the palace gardens with the crown prince, kissing as though we are lovers. Whatif someone saw us together? It might not have much of an implication for the prince, but it could change everything for me.
What in the name of the gods am I doing?
Gasping, I pull back and scramble off the bench as though I’ve been stung. I need to put some distance between us before I let things go too far. No, things have already gone too far and I can do nothing about that, I can stop it from happening again though. The feelings that he’s stirring up are dangerous for someone like me to have. I cannothave romantic feelings for the prince.
“Kiara, wait, I’m sorry-”
“I’m sorry!” I shout over my shoulder, gathering my skirts and hurrying out of the secluded courtyard. There’s more to say, much more, but I don’t have the capacity to manage that right now. The way my hormones are reacting it wouldn’t be long until I made a terrible mistake and there is too much at stake to allow that to happen.
Flustered and completely lost in the maze of the gardens, I hurry back to the palace. He’s calling after me but thankfully I can’t hear his footsteps so I think he’s giving me the space I so desperately need. The shadow of the hawk moves over me and I see that it’s following me like a grim omen.
I need to get back to my rooms and remind myself why I’m here. That, and to get the taste of Amir out of my mouth before I do something even more stupid.
Twenty
The woman staring back at me furrows her brow, her face appearing harsh in the morning light. Sunken eyes surrounded by dark circles give the impression that she has not had a solid night of sleep in some time. The tangled mass of hair from tossing and turning in bed only add to this. There is something in this woman’s eyes that makes me linger though, a wariness that tells a story of grief and hardship. I want to reach out and offer her a kind word, something that might lighten the weight of her burden.
However, the woman I stare at, is me.
The reflection is not flattering and makes me uncomfortable to look at. I want to turn away, but I force myself to take it in nonetheless. Sitting in my luxurious room with someone tending to my every whim, I find I don’t recognise myself. It is only because of the unique pinkish colour of my hair that I know it is my face staring back at me. When did I become so pale and withdrawn looking? My physical appearance is not what makes me pause though, but the internal changes, which are much harder to repair. Even when I was Sullied and lived in a wreckage, I still had a spark about me, yet at some point since I was brought here, that seems to have disappeared.
Abbie has her work cut out for her today to make me appear like a functioning human.
