“I, on the other hand, have already forgotten you before you’ve even left.” I smiled sweetly, enjoying the way his face turned a mottled red before he marched through the doorway of the garden terrace and disappeared.
“You shouldn’t have mocked him like that,” Anam said quietly, coming to stand beside me. A shaft of sunlight lit her hair from behind, making a faint hint of red come out. Mazin had that same tint to his hair, and sometimes I found myself staring at the multitude of shades in the sunset. “He does have influence at the palace.”
“Why?” I frowned, thinking he couldn’t be much older than Maz. “He seems too young to be captain of the guard. What happened to Hassan?”
“Hassan was fired—Darbaran took his place. He’s the son of a friend of the emperor—a prison warden. I think the emperor enjoyshaving people be in his pocket so he doesn’t have to question their loyalty.” Anam’s voice was a whisper, and she bit the edge of her lip as if she couldn’t believe she’d said those words herself.
Icertainly couldn’t believe she said them.
“Why, Anam, that’s as close to treason as I’ve ever heard from you.” I threw her a smile, knowing she knew my opinion of the emperor. Since Maz had confessed to me what Vahid did, my ire for Vahid had only increased.
I had never spoken to Anam about it and had no idea if she knew Emperor Vahid had killed her mother. I assumed Maz would tell her in time.
I walked back to my chair on the terrace and sat down. Anam settled beside me, and I stared at the mark on her arm that would be a bruise tomorrow. One that she might have to explain to her brother. She poured us some hibiscus tea and then took a long sip.
“But in all seriousness, where is that dagger I gave you? You shouldn’t have to put up with boys like him.”
She smiled and relief shot through me after seeing her fear when Darbaran had his hands on her.
“I didn’t wear it today.” She looked down at her silver suit, the blouse light and floaty with small mirrors embroidered in a floral pattern. Her straight trousers were threaded with dark blue beads in a similar pattern. “It didn’t go with my outfit.”
I stared at her. “A knife goes witheveryoutfit.”
“You only say that because you clearly pick your outfits based on your knives. Most people do it the other way around.”
“I do not,” I huffed, looking down at the rust-colored kameez my father insisted I wear for the palace. If I could get away with wearing my simple training kurta to the palace, I would. Especially because Maz and I usually ended up sparring in the training field with his friends anyway. The talwar I brought was one of Baba’s most beautiful ones, with gleaming emeralds set in the handle. It offset the dark red of my outfit perfectly.
I frowned. “Hm. I guess I do match.”
“You always do!” Anam collapsed against the divan.
“What was that about?” I made my voice serious. I didn’t want to spook Anam if she wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was happening between her and Darbaran. “Does Darbaran always talk to you like that?”
“Oh, that was nothing. Darbaran wanted me to join him in the gallery. But I told him I was meeting you for luncheon.”
I watched her. “That wasn’t the first time he tried to force you to do something you didn’t want to do.” I inclined my head. There was a familiarity in the way they dealt with each other.
“Yes, and next time I will have my dagger with me.” She nodded, a little smile on her lips. “Don’t worry so much about it.”
“Should I be mentioning this to your brother?”
She sat up. “Absolutely not. He will just get even more impossible and protective than he already is. I won’t be allowed to leave my room at this rate.”
“Learn to defend yourself and you can prove you don’t need any protection,” I said reasonably. “Maz isn’t the type to cage you in.”
“He isn’t, but he believes the same as you. I should learn to fight. But I’m not like the two of you, I have no interest in fighting.”
“Yes, but do you have an interest in staying alive?” I took a sip of the tea and Anam grabbed one of the biscuits sprinkled with candied pistachio and took a large bite.
“Why should I, when you are nearby?” she said, speaking between mouthfuls.
“If he does anything else, tell me,” I said firmly. “I don’t like him.”
“I promise, I’ll tell you.” She looked toward the garden, avoiding my eyes. “Just don’t tell my brother what happened today.”
“Tell me what?”
Maz walked onto the terrace wearing the same black sherwani as Darbaran, but it looked crisper, more refined. As if wrinkles and dust didn’t dare land on him.
