We arrived at Casildo’s home in all the finery we had, displaying Souma’s extravagant wealth to our utmost advantage. Torches were lit all along the house, the trellis patrolled by guards. We were met at the door by his merchant from the bazaar, a broad smile on his face.
“His man must have really told tales about our means,” Noor whispered as we walked.
“Then we shall have to live up to them.” I pulled my dupatta close, the glittering beadwork chiming together, as if my outfit agreed.
“Welcome to my home.” Casildo stood at the entrance, and it took everything in me not to rip the pin securing my dupatta from my hair and slit his throat with it. “Tarfaan has told me of your search, and that you are recently new to the city. It is my pleasure to have you here.”
He looked exactly as I remembered, except his dark hair was now graying at the sides, and what once had been a warm smile now felt calculating and oily. I pressed my own mouth into a smile, my hand involuntarily floating toward the dagger strapped to my thigh. I exhaled a slow breath, steadying myself.
Killing him outright was too good for him.
Despite the boiling anger in my veins, a tremor of fear ran down my spine as he took in my face.
Had I changed my appearance enough?
Could Casildo discern who I was despite the djinn magic coursing through me?
He was the first person who had known me before I’d been arrested and I was now testing the experiment firsthand.
But his expression didn’t change.
He still had that same smile, as if he were tallying the worth of my kameez. Good thing I’d worn the most expensive one I owned.
Noor was wearing a dark green kurta with fine gold embroidery at the hem. She was still posing as my maid, because she could get places I couldn’t and gather information I wouldn’t have access to. We would need that if we wanted to get close enough to Casildo.
If I wanted him to suffer, I was going to have to know exactly what he would hate to lose. I toyed with the neckline of my kameez and gave him a pretty smile through gritted teeth as I tried my best to soften the rage sitting in the back of my throat.
“Thank you so much for your welcome, sahib. I am happy to view your collection. Your man was most helpful in recommending your blades to me.”
“Those knives were nothing compared to my private stores.” Casildo beckoned us inside and we were led through to an open-air courtyard in the center of his home, filled with greenery, giant lotus flowers, and star white dahlias infusing the room with a sickly perfume.
It was a common feature for wealthier homes in the city to have this type of indoor garden, to alleviate some of the heat from the outside. A large fountain in the center took up the majority of the garden. As we moved closer, I realized it was a stone depiction of the mythical battle between the warrior Naveed slaughtering a deadly azi. The dragon’s great wings were crushed under Naveed’s boots, and its neck pierced by the blade of his scimitar. It was gruesome to behold, but it set the tone of the house.
Here, might and weaponry were prized.
I watched the pained eyes of the azi, who was said to be attacking a local village until Naveed fed it a poisoned goat and slaughtered its drugged body.
Another lesson—treachery wins the day.
My eyes flickered to the rest of the garden. Servants surrounded us, holding various platters with crystal goblets, golden plates, and every type of refreshment.
“Expecting others?” I turned to Casildo.
“A few friends to welcome you into the city. Your arrival has caused quite a stir, especially when you bought out half the bazaar. There are rumors about you all over Basral. I’m thankful you stopped by my bazaar stall.”
“I am thankful too, sahib. If only to meet another sword collector.”
“Please, call me Casildo.”
I inclined my head with a smile and his eyes gleamed. “Your hospitality is most generous.”
We were led to platters of roasted lamb, spicy pickles, and fresh roti my teeth were begging to sink into. I had learned since being in prison there wasn’t any kind of food I would pass up if given the opportunity. I reached for a roti but Noor made a noise in her throat as I did so. Our eyes met, hers with censure. Noor stepped forward instead and began filling a plate for me.
“Please, eat your fill.” Casildo gestured to the food. “Once we share a meal, we can visit the swords you are so interested in.”
“I would like that very much.” I bit into a piece of tender roast meat in my mouth and chewed it slowly, savoring the taste. “Tell me, where did you acquire your swords? Do you have a supplier?”
My stomach clenched as I prepared for his answer. Perhaps he would give away the entire tale, the history of how he betrayed my father. I was eager to hear him talk about it, eager to stoke the fires of my rage when he bragged about how he owned all his knives.
