“The Jasadis’ story deserves to be told in whole,” I said. “They are not something distasteful to be split up into pieces you can swallow.”
“I never said—” Rory stopped short, brows drawing together. “What do you mean, they?”
A light knock sounded at the door. We both went silent, our argument falling to the wayside in favor of trepidation. Had the Nizahl Heir returned?
Rory’s elbow caught my stomach, pushing me behind him. What did he think he would do against the Commander?
He could turn you in, Hanim whispered. The chemist works with dangerous substances every day. Think of how easy it would be for him to accidentally ingest a lethal dose. No one would suspect you.
Killing Rory would only cause more problems. Mahair might not second-guess the accidental death of a soldier, but two accidental deaths in the span of a week?
Rory went five years without speaking my true name. He would not betray me to the Heir now.
“Rory? Are you there? Oh, please be here, Mistress Nadia will have my hide if I return empty-handed.”
I tucked my dagger back into my boot while Rory opened the door. Fairel drooped in relief, lifting her skirt to step into the shop. Loose curls bounced around her round face. “You gave me a fright. I have a list from Mistress Nadia.”
I tried to smile at Fairel. Rory grunted, “Talk to Sylvia. Damn this day,” and disappeared behind the curtains.
Nobody roused at my footsteps through the darkened keep. I kept my tread light. Tomorrow was the day before the waleema. This was probably the most sleep the girls would get for the next two days. The groans of the old, waterlogged walls would hopefully disguise any sound I made outside.
I carefully shut the rusted back door behind me and walked to the side of the keep. Kneeling on the damp ground, I dug my fingers into the soil and tore out the roots of the fig plant until my wrists ached and dirt crusted my fingertips. I shouldn’t have planted it to begin with. Even at full growth, these trees would never be like the fig trees in Jasad. The fig trees used to soar to more than thirty meters in Usr Jasad’s gardens. When the trees were saplings, the architects infused the branches with magic. Weaving them into complicated, mesmerizing patterns as they flourished.
What kind of idiot was I to think I could stay here forever? Long enough for a fig plant to sprout, for the blue house to become mine, for Rory to give me his shop. Mahair didn’t belong to me. Any roots I planted could only ever rot.
I stamped on what was left of the plant and scattered its mangled remains down the slope. Fig trees had no place here, and it had been cruel to let it hope.
This is what he wants, Hanim whispered. No matter how docile you pretend to be, a feral animal shows its true colors in captivity.
I pressed my palm over my heart and tried to focus on counting. I was not a captive.
One, two. I’m alive. Three, four. I’m—
“Oh,” came a small voice. Fairel stuck her head out from behind the bushes, holding a watering pot. “I thought you might be Raya. Was that your plant you dug out?”
I squinted at the child, utterly thrown by her presence. My current mood should not be borne by anyone, let alone Fairel. I wrapped my arms around my middle. “Go inside, Fay. It’s past bedtime.”
She lowered the watering pot to the ground. Her chin jutted out, and I braced myself for the argument. “You’re upset. I can tell. Why don’t you talk to me like you talk to Sefa and Marek? Is it because you think I’m little? I will be twelve in two months and six days.”
I couldn’t help myself. “You think I talk to Sefa and Marek?”
“More than me. Twelve is big, you know.”
“I know.” When I turned twelve, Hanim enchanted lions to chase me through Essam so I could practice my climbing skills. I had her to thank for my ability to scale a tree in under a minute. I sighed. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”
Fairel glanced at the hushed streets beyond the hill. “Now? The patrol will yell at us.”
Then I would flay their skin from their bodies and feed it to them. On how many occasions had I allowed myself to be belittled and demeaned for the sake of safety? All for nothing. I could not budge an inch beyond the village. Not when the Nizahl Heir had placed me firmly in his crosshairs.
“I’ll protect you.”
Like you protected Adel? Hanim laughed. I gritted my teeth. She was so hungry for my guilt. When would she realize I had none? She had wrung every drop out of me long ago.
“Okay.” The trust on Fairel’s face disturbed me. More than age or maturity, the ability to trust remained the greatest relic of youth. I hoped to be long gone before I witnessed the world take it from her.
Of all the young wards in the keep, Fairel was my undisputed favorite. So much so that when she reached for my hand, I let her hold it all the way to the bottom of the hill before gently pulling away.
“Why do you always pull away?” Fairel clasped her arms around her middle. Mimicking me from earlier. Kapastra’s scaly throne, I couldn’t imagine a more disastrous scenario than Fairel modeling her behavior after me.
We ducked into a narrow alley, allowing the darkness to swallow us. Neither of us needed help navigating the uneven path. A shower of pebbles rained into our hair. I shepherded her away from the deteriorating wall, wishing I could as easily guide her from this question.
I could have lied. I would have, had it been anyone other than Fairel and her hurt tone. “I do not have fond memories of being touched. My body recognizes it as a threat.” It hadn’t always, but Fairel didn’t need to know how I’d loved being swung up in Dawoud’s arms as a child. I would spend hours hanging on to Usr Jasad’s chief advisor while he conducted his business in the palace. Dawoud would walk into meetings with me dangling from his neck and carry on his conversation without batting an eye, as though the other person would be in the wrong for noticing the hyperactive seven-year-old clinging to him.
Hanim had bled those memories from me. She left them gray, so everything to follow could be a dark, dripping red. Whips tearing against my back and shoulders. Nights of hanging by my feet from a sturdy tree branch, not unlike a slab of meat from the butcher’s hooks, with a dagger placed in my hand to fight any curious animals. On those nights, I could have easily bent in half and sawed at the ropes lashed around my feet. Another layer of Hanim’s punishment—knowing I had the ability to free myself, but not the bravery.
“I would never threaten you,” Fairel said, horrified.
Oh, but only this child could make me laugh in the temper I was in. “I know you wouldn’t. But my body interprets the sensation the same, no matter who it is coming from.”
A clatter echoed from the other end of the alley. I put a hand in front of Fairel and listened. A rat scurried next to my foot, overturning a pile of pebbles in its path.