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I knew him well once. But it’s been over seven years. And in that time, he has ended more lives than anyone could know. He is not the same person he was before. Though I don’t feel like I’ve changed much, I’m sure I have. Even if we can discover the truth of what happened between us, do I truly want a man who carries the deaths of so many on his hands?
Does anything of the old Kirran remain?
And if what I loved about him is gone, can I love who he is now? Should I even try?
The noise from the laundry room pulls my focus back, and I follow Reena inside. Voices rise and fall in a soft hum, sprinkled with occasional exclamations and spurts of laughter. This early, most of us haven’t shaken sleep fully or rallied ourselves for the day. But those who have make up for it.
Reena grips my shoulder. “The hall is probably fine. I’ll send them out to you one at a time.”
“Thank you, Ree.”
Reena claps her hands at least five times before the murmurs die down. “Good morning, everyone! I have a request for you. Seven years ago, King Abbas held a ball for Prince Kirran’s eighteenth birthday. If you were working in the ballroom that night, please come see me immediately.” Reena winks at me, then grins at the silent crowd and claps once more. “That is all!”
The murmur gradually resumes. A handful of servants make their way toward the front of the room. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever they may say, and slip out into the hall.
A moment later, the first woman steps out.
We smile as our eyes meet. Shivva is old enough to be my great-grandmother, yet she shows up faithfully every day to a job she didn’t choose. I’ve never once heard her complain or begrudge her station in life. It’s no wonder her magic provides comfort and aids relaxation. There may be any number of servants who have answers for me, but few could be more forthcoming than she will.
I keep my tone bright. “Good morning, Lady Shivva. I wanted to ask you some things about Prince Kirran’s birthday ball.”
Shivva told me years ago that she’s worked here since she was my age. Her husband is one of the groundskeepers. More than a few times, he covered for Kirran and me when we either snuck out to meet each other or tried to get back before anyone noticed we were gone. Deep wrinkles line her tan skin, and silver hairs sparkle against the black ones. After years of labor, her body is frail and thin. But her yellow eyes always hold a twinkle.
At least, they usually do — just not right now.
She doesn’t move away, but something about her almost shrinks in on itself. “Oh, you’re — you’re asking questions about it.” Her reedy voice falters, and she folds her hands against her apron.
“Yes.” I offer a reassuring smile. “Just a few questions. Nothing major.”
“Right…”
“You worked the ball that night, correct? Where were you stationed?”
Her gaze darts away from me, like she expects someone to pop up behind her and yank her into the shadows. “I — I’m sorry, Alia. I cannot tell you.”
I frown and study her. Cold creeps along my spine. “Cannot because you don’t remember?”
“No, I — we were…” She presses her lips together and flicks her watery eyes to me. “We were forbidden to speak of it.”
“To speak of what?”
“Forgive me. The ball itself. At least as it related to you.”
My heart skips a beat, and I lean forward. “Really? Who forbade you?”
Her mouth opens, closes, and opens again. The corners of her eyes wrinkle, though not in delight. “Prince Kirran, my dear.”
My throat locks, and I can’t bring myself to swallow. I sense my hands clench and unclench against my skirt. “You — you’re serious?” Disbelief tangles within my words, turning my voice to scarcely more than a whisper. “Why would he do that?”
“I do not know, honey. He didn’t say, and of course, we would not question him.” A shimmer of worry lights in her eyes. “We dare not cross him.”
I wet my lips and shake my head. I can’t fault her for anything. “Kirran wanted me to ask, though. I’m sure it’s fine to tell me now.”
The corners of her eyes pinch even more. “I am sorry, Alia. I believe you, but… Well, Prince Kirran was quite adamant. Unless he himself retracts it, I dare not.”
I sigh and force a nod. “Very well. Thank you, Shivva. I understand.”
“Of course, dear.” She takes a step back and does a quick curtsy, as if anyone has ever needed to curtsy in my presence. “Do forgive me.”
