I’d follow you anywhere.
Twenty-three
Mazin’s invitation was what we had been waiting for. It gave us entry into the palace, and access to the emperor. And if I felt any trepidation about my reaction to spending more time with Maz, I buried it deep. Being near him would only get me closer to my goal, would only help to destroy him further. Something gathered inside my chest, something dark and thick.
Noor and I sat at the back of our tanga as it pulled through the city streets, the palace looming closer.
A breeze rippled through the canvas of the carriage, and Noor sighed in relief.
“It’s hotter than Thohfsa’s asshole out here. Why are we wearing so many layers?”
I leaned back against the seat. “Because rich people always wear too many clothes to show off how much money they have,” I murmured, my eyes on the palace.
Soon, I’d be standing inside it, back in the place where I was arrested. Back in the halls I was dragged through, where my screams bounced off the cavernous ceilings and no one listened. Back where I met Mazin’s eyes and realized for the first time who he truly was—a boy who would destroy everything just to get what he wanted.
The building loomed ahead of us—gleaming white columns of marble like a snow-topped mountain towering over the city. It was so imposing you could see it on the horizon for miles—a reminder that wherever you were, Vahid’s power was always present. And with Mazin as his second-in-command, his was too.
As we crested the hill I felt eerily soothed—as if everything solidified in my mind. I glanced over to find Noor staring at the palace too, a frown creasing her forehead, and worry shadowing her eyes. She caught me looking and gave me a rueful smile.
“Are you worried?” I kept my tone light. Though Noor talked about her feelings more than I did, she was always reticent when it came to what happened with Souma and Vahid. As if when she spoke about it, it took her right back to when Souma had died.
“Not worried, not about our plan. More so about controlling myself if I see him.”
“Vahid?”
She nodded. “Knowing that I might come face-to-face with him in a few minutes makes me want to tear my hair out. I don’t know how I’m going to stop myself from pouring a vial of poison in his chai.”
“Now you know how I feel seeing Maz.”
She collapsed against the seat and threw her hands over her face. “I have no idea how you kept from throwing the dagger directly at Mazin’s heart the first time you saw him.”
“Trust me, I wanted to.”
“But you stayed so calm. Even afterward. I can barely stop shaking and I haven’t even seen the emperor yet.”
“I’m not calm.” I turned to look at her. “I’m furious. I can hide it well because I’m wearing a face that isn’t mine, because I know that when I look at Mazin he has no idea who I am. Because if I don’t control the storm raging inside me, then all of this will be for nothing. My father’s death will be for nothing. And I can’t let him—let any of them—get away with what they’ve done. I’m not calm, just focused.”
“You certainly play your part well. I’m not sure I could control myself the same.”
“You will. Once you see Vahid, you will be reminded of why we are here.”
She threw me a skeptical glance. “You don’t appear affected by anything. You aren’t even sweating! Does your body just not produce moisture? You don’t cry or sweat? Do you produce saliva?”
I looked away. “I cry.”
“Since when? You didn’t even weep when you found out your father died.”
I opened my mouth to respond but the words had dried up. Baba’s face flashed across my mind—a memory of him laughing at something I said over breakfast, as he scooped up his haleem with thick bread, the minced mutton and lentils his favorite morning meal. I couldn’t remember our conversation, only his great belly laugh that shook his whole body. My father had been everything to me—a mother when my own was killed, a provider by selling his swords to the emperor he hated when we’d needed the money, a teacher when I’d shown an aptitude for fighting. But what he’d been most of all was a friend. Someone who sat with me in the quiet moments, who laughed with me at breakfast, who gave me advice but never judgment. Crying over the loss of him felt too small.
A silence fell over the carriage that was tight with emotion. Noor looked stricken.
“Dani, I’m sorr—”
“Don’t apologize.” I sat up straight. “It’s true. I didn’t cry. There was too much to think about at the time, too much to do. It would have been a waste of tears.” I pressed my hands against my thighs, gripping the beaded fabric of my trousers so hard a few of the beads popped off. “When he’s avenged, that’s when I’ll cry. That’s when I’ll grieve. I just hope I’ll have that moment.”
She nodded and returned her gaze to the palace. “We will. Souma used to say ‘the bird sees the grain but not the snare.’ We’ll makethem see what they want to see. And they’ll be trapped before they even realize it.”
“And the plan?”
