“What did I promise, princess?” I asked her, as formally as I might have done were I her vassal in truth. “Tell me.”
“You know the cruel part of the curse,” she said to me. “That my kingdom and my people suffer in my name. You have felt the touch of it, driven as you were from my house and from my lands; and you feel the pain of it, as your mother sickens. But Yashaa, there is a vicious side to it as well. And that viciousness is mine and mine alone.”
“Tell us.” Tariq was awake. Of course he was. He longed for the truth as much as I was sure I knew it.
“A princess is taught so many things,” she said. “How to run a castle and kingdom. How to dance, and how to sing. How to speak to men and women, and learn their troubles. How to solve those troubles, where I can. How to embroider and weave and sew. And, as you know, how to spin.”
Her fingers played along the blanket as she spoke, and I saw a thread that was loose upon the hem. Without knowing why, I reached over and pulled it out, throwing the thread up for the breeze to catch. The Little Rose watched it, her eyes hungry, but did not reach after it.
“The gifts I was given for my birthday were meant to highlight those lessons,” she continued. “Meant to make me a strong ruler for Kharuf. For each of you.”
Oh, how we would have loved her.
“But the curse was for those lessons as well,” she said. “Each facet of what I learned would turn my mind into the perfect host. My parents kept me from learning anything, as much as they could, but it doesn’t matter. If I spin, the curse will be complete, and the…inhabitation will begin. The demon knew my parents would put off my spinning for as long as they possibly could, and they did, even though the price was high. It guessed eighteen years, long enough for me to become entirely aware of my curse, and what it was doing to my kingdom.”
Arwa had tears in her eyes, and Tariq was pale. Even Saoud watched us now, concern on his face. He knew the stories as well as we did. That once there had been a king who was not a man, and he had done terrible things before the Storyteller Queen remade him good.
“So it is selfish,” she said. “I do not wish to be taken thus. I want to be queen, my own queen. I want to work and lead, to make things that help everyone in the kingdom, and I can’t. Everything that I make, if I make things, would make me a better demon. If I spin, the demon will know that I am ready, and it will come for me. But Yashaa, I swear to you, as awful as that would be for me, it would be awful for the people too. The marriage would still take place, to begin with, tying us to the Maker Kings, and I wouldn’t be human anymore.”
I reeled, even though I was sitting on the ground and had nowhere to fall. Arwa wrapped her arms around the Little Rose, as though she could protect her from the demon that sought to take her very soul, but the Little Rose’s eyes never left mine. In my mind I saw the drawings on the floor of her tower prison—intricate, but easily destroyed by the lightest breeze or the softest brush of cloth. She had sketched in dust with her own fingers, so desperate was she to make. She could not do anything. She could not make anything. Ever.
“I will check the blanket,” I said.
It would not be nearly enough, I knew, and I saw that Saoud knew it too, but it was the only place that we could start.
WE WAITED UNTIL IT WAS nearly dark before we set out again. Any pursuers would have caught us during the day, as they would be on horseback, and Saoud had rightly guessed that the moon would give us enough light to travel by. As the sun was setting, we had a cold meal, and I inspected what remained of our supplies. It was not much, but it would get us to the mountains; when we were more safely hidden, we would have time enough to hunt and forage if we needed to.
The Little Rose did not help us as we tied up the knots on our packs. I checked the blanket for her, and rolled it up to put in her bag. Arwa had given up her own veil to hide the Little Rose’s hair, and wore Saoud’s kafiyyah instead. The Little Rose would need a better cloak in the mountains, but we had no time for that sort of thing now either.
“Should we go?” Saoud said.
I looked out of our hollow and shook my head. The sun still kissed the tops of the higher hills, purple heather against the purple sky. It was enough light for us to be spotted if we moved, but not enough for Saoud to find us another place to hide, were we to need one. Everything in me wanted to run. The restlessness from not spinning was worse than it had been before, and I wanted to be free of the constant pressure on my lungs. Our parents had sickened slowly once they left Kharuf. I hoped we would be so lucky, once we managed to get free of it. I wanted to go, to go now, but I knew better and breathed as evenly as I could to calm down.