“God, I’ve missed you,” I say quietly.
Samira pulls back, loosening her grip to wipe tears from her cheek. “I’ve missed you, too.” She looks at Lavleen and Jahanna. “Alright, I’ve let you say your hellos. Now I need to talk to Olbric, andyouboth need to hurry to dinner.”
There’s a chorus of dissent, but Samira shoos them off. I chuckle and give both Lavleen and Jahanna a kiss on the head. “I’ll see you again soon, I promise.”
Reluctantly, they head back down the hall, but I wait until they’re out of earshot before I say, “Let me guess - you’re not supposed to talk to me.”
Samira grabs my wrist and pulls me back into the Strae delegation’s wing before she closes the door. “Talk to, look at, approach in any way...” she says airily. “But you know I’ve never been very good at following Ada’s instructions.”
I chuckle, and my heart feels full just having her here. She hasn’t changed a bit. “So long as you don’t get caught snooping around.”
Her smile is sly. “You underestimate how good I’ve gotten at snooping.” She grabs my arms as she looks me over fondly. “You look wonderful, Olbric.”
“Could say the same about you,” I say.
“Ama sends her love,” Samira says, and I’m glad to know that my mother’s in on this little meeting. “She’d come herself, but she’s at Ada’s side for the welcome feast.”
“And what’s your reason for missing out on the fun?” I ask, amused.
“I’m afraid I’ve come down with a head cold,” she says with a smirk.
“Aah, of course. You wear malaise well.”
Samira chuckles and gives my shoulder a shove as she heads further into the main room. “Still as smart-mouthed as ever.”
“If anything, the Crux has honed that smart mouth into a genius.” I follow her but pause, eyeing the big windows.
I wish I had my spells to shield this conversation from listening ears. The palace was designed in the early days of the Shykhdar, when only a tentative peace existed between the five ruling houses. Suspicions ran rampant, and the entire palace was built to try and uncover secrets between the new rulers.
“Where are your quarters?” she asks, her voice low. It’s like she’s read my mind. She follows me to mine and Alix’s room, and I close the doors quietly behind us.
“As happy as I am to see you, I have a feeling you’re not risking Father’s wrath just to say hello,” I point out.
Samira’s smile turns sad as she takes a seat on Alix’s bed. “You’re right. And as happy as I am to seeyou, I have to ask - why thehellare you here? You swore you’d never come back.”
“I’m not exactly here by choice, Samira,” I scoff, though it’s just like my father to keep his demands a secret from the rest of my family. “As part of the terms of the Shykhdar hosting these talks, Father demanded my presence.”
Samira’s busy hands worry the embroidered hem of her gown as she mutters, “Of course he did.” At my questioning look, she gives me a wry grin. “I aim to steal your birthright, Olbric.”
Hope blooms in my chest even as a thousand questions quickly follow. The expectation that I would take my father’s seat in the Shykhdar is the entire reason he’s tried to get me to return home. It’s the last thing I’ve ever wanted, but as my father’s only son, the position has always felt like a prison to escape. But if there’s a woman cunning enough and bold enough to take that unwanted responsibility away, it’s Samira.
“But you being here is a knife in my plans,” she says, and my hope falters. “One that could kill it entirely.”
“What plan?” I ask. “How can I help? What can I do? Because I didn’t spend the last six years starting a new life just to be dragged back into the Shykhdar’s bullshit.”
She smiles at that, keen hazel eyes taking me in. “I’ve already gotten a public endorsement from Tereman, Kenan, and Ramzi. So long as your presence doesn’t cause them to publicly renege on those endorsements, they’re the three I’m least worried about.”
I nod, recognizing the names of the Shykhs of the central, southwestern, and southeastern territories. Kenan has always been the most liberal-thinking of them, but his more progressive proposals were usually overruled by the others. Ramzi knows what it is to be a controversial candidate for the Shykhdar, so the fact that he’s chosen to endorse my sister means he’s likely a better man than I’ve given him credit for. Tereman, the lecherous old fuck, might justbe endorsing her as some ploy to try and marry her later, but I would be foolish to think Samira doesn’t know what she’s doing on that front.
“So, Father and Demir are the holdouts?” I ask.
Samira shakes her head. “Demir finally,finallydied a couple of years ago. His son Farras took that seat.”
My pulse races at the name. “Farras? Seriously?”
“Yes... why?”
I can’t stop the smile that threatens to split my face in half. Farras is Feisal’s father. Too many ideas form, and none of them Arlon would approve of. But fortunately, he doesn’t need to be involved. This is a personal matter.
