“I hope it wasn’t like last time,” Anam cut in. “That was awful.”
“What happened?” I didn’t have to feign interest. The bigger the fire we could fuel against Vahid and Mazin, the better. I just needed to know where to fan the flames.
“A protest that got out of hand,” explained Mazin. He looked down at his hands, stretching out the long fingers. “The emperor gave orders to execute all those responsible for the insurrection.”
“It was a bloodbath.” Anam shivered. “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt, Maz.”
I tilted my head. “You were there?”
His gaze met mine, unblinking. “I was.”
And we both knew the words I didn’t speak:Were you responsible for the bloodbath?
And we both knew the answer.
His gold-threaded eyes were the same, but they weren’t.
And I knew why.
He’d finally become the villain he’d been so eager to destroy. The man who crushed down desperate people, who betrayed the girl who loved him for power, who became a cold monster, incapable of compassion.
“Thank you for joining us, Sanaya.” Mazin sat down beside me, his leg nearly brushing mine.
I gritted my teeth under my smile. Now I had to seduce the monster.
“I hope you know how indebted we are to you,” he continued as he motioned to one of the servants and drinks were poured. I tried to concentrate on the ruby candescence of the pomegranate-and-rose tea in my glass so I didn’t have to look at the new harshness in Mazin’s eyes.
“Anyone would have done what I did to help Anam.” I leaned forward, letting my hand fall from the stem of my tea glass and brush the edge of his wrist. He glanced down at his hand, then back to me.
“And yet, no one else did. I think you are being too humble, sahiba.” He leaned forward, a smile curling his lips, one of the first I’d seen from him. My heart increased a steady rhythm, and I wish I could say it was anger or even fear. But I knew the feeling for what it was, and it was the same elation I got when holding the hilt of a new sword in my hand, when swinging the winning strike against an opponent.
Excitement.
I gave a gentle, delicate laugh that would have made Noor proud. “I have never been accused of being humble, so I will accept your compliment.” I moved my hand back to my glass, making sure to brush my fingers against his skin once more. Then I took a long gulp of my chilled tea—probably too long—and set the glass gently on the table. Flirting wasn’t my forte, but I didn’t think I was doing too badly.
The servants spooned out a fragrant rice dish, along with spicy pickled mango, and lamb simmered in whole green chilis. I concentrated on eating, barely tasting the heat of the spices despite how impressive the food was. This was the kind of meal I had dreamed about when I had lain on the floor of my prison cell.
“There is one thing I wanted to know.” Mazin’s voice was light, but deceptively so. The benefit of having known him so long was that I could tell there was something bothering him. An ache of familiarity took me back. I remembered knowing his expressions, being able to convey a whole conversation between us with a look.
“Anam mentioned at the bazaar that she heard a scuffle when she was blindfolded,” he continued, leaning back in his chair. “That it sounded like someone was fighting the ruffians who took her. Did you fight off the thugs?” A smile played on his lips, and he had a slight slouch in his shoulders as if he were relaxed and calm. But I knew better.
I smiled back.
“Yes, actually,” I admitted, watching his eyebrows rise to his hairline. He hadn’t expected that. Good. Sanaya was going to be everything he didn’t expect. “I managed to land a few hits on them, before they took off.” I took a sip of my drink, the tart floral taste washing away the food and sharpening my mind. I didn’t mention that the “thugs” in question were children and that one of them had been shaking with laughter as we pretended to engage in combat.
Mazin smiled, broad and sharklike. He leaned forward in his chair, so close I could smell the crisp forest scent of him. He steepled his fingers together. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to offend, but I don’t imagine you as the type to fight off thugs.” His eyes flitted over my body as if willing me to see what he saw. And I did. Clad in jewels and a heavily embroidered shalwar kameez with a color so deep the dye must have cost more than this wing of the palace. I was a frivolous, beautiful confection. Not a warrior. But he didn’t know warriors could wear jewels just as well.
“My mother taught me. She wanted to make sure I could defend myself.” It was a lie close enough to the truth.
Mazin tilted his head, examining me still, but with a softer expression. I don’t know if he bought my lie, but my words had the effect of doing something else—intriguing him. “She sounds like an intelligent woman.”
I inclined my head. “Yes. All the women in our tribe are taught to fight.” I wet my lips. “I think it’s an important skill. A girl needs to know how to handle herself in an attack.”
He propped his chin against his palm, his dark eyes like the mountain sky at midnight.
“Like you taught me, Maz,” Anam interrupted with light affection, reminding me that she was still in the room. I looked away from Mazin’s intense gaze and back at his sister.
“Anam fought well.” I smiled, my voice warm and approving. “When I arrived, she had already hurt one of the thugs. If she hadn’t been taken by surprise, there’s no doubt she would have bested them.”
