Curious, I stir and slide against the walls of the lamp, feeling for the intruder. The footsteps draw closer, soft and slow, and a thrill runs through me when I recognize Caspida. Perhaps all is not lost.
I let my sixth sense wash over her. Her hands are still decorated with her wedding henna, but she looks far from bridal. Her black waistcoat and leggings hug her athletic form, and there are blades of every size and shape tucked into her belt, shoes, and even her tight braid.
Moving carefully, she lifts the lamp. When the bond forms between us, I am stunned at how remarkably familiar it feels—so much like being bonded to you, Habiba. Caspida hovers a moment longer over her sleeping uncle, her free hand straying to a knife at her belt.
But then there is a knock at the door, and she freezes.
“Lord Vizier?” calls a voice. “It is nearly dawn, my lord.”
She ghosts across the room, tucking herself behind the door as it slowly swings open. A guard pokes his head inside, and Caspida springs on him. She hooks an arm around his neck, plunging his head down to meet her rising knee. He drops, unconscious, and she drags him into the room. Sulifer stirs but does not wake.
Two more guards stand watch, and before they can shout out, Caspida drops one with a kick to his groin and a blow to his head, and the other with a blade across his throat. He sinks, blood running down his chest, and she steps over him, wiping scarlet specks from her cheek with a shaking hand.
Breathing a little harder, Caspida wraps the lamp in her cloak, ties the ends together, and slings it across her shoulders before heading out into the hall. She sets off, drawing her knife from her belt.
Faster and faster she moves, until she’s running through the halls, making for the nearest exit. But then the creak of an opening door stops her short, and she sucks in a breath when Darian steps into the hall. He stiffens at the sight of the princess, and he looks around, his hand moving to his sheathed sword.
“Cas?”
“Hello, Darian.”
“What are you doing here? I’ve orders to throw you in the dungeon. Cas, they’re going to execute you!”
Caspida’s forehead wrinkles. “Cousin, surely you don’t believe these ridiculous accusations. I was fooled by Aladdin as much as anyone. More so, in fact. I agreed to marry the bastard. You think I don’t want his head as much as you?”
He bites his lip as he studies her, his gaze conflicted. “Ever since we were kids, Cas, it was supposed to be you and me.”
“I know,” she groans, rubbing her temples. “I’ve been such an idiot. My first duty has always been to our people, Darian, and I thought I was fulfilling that.” She lifts her eyes to meet his, and tears dangle from her kohl-lined lashes. “I can’t expect you to forgive me, but I must beg it of you anyway. I’ve been monstrous to you.”
“Cas . . .” He opens his arms and she runs to him, her body shaking. He embraces her tightly, one hand around her waist, the other caressing her hair. “Cas, it’s all right. Look, I believe you. I know Father will too, once we have a chance to talk about it. Everything just happened so fast today, we panicked. And you ran. Why did you run? It only made things worse for you.”
“Like you said, it all happened so fast.” She lifts her face to look at him. “I panicked too.”
“Oh, Cas.” He wraps her in his arms and kisses her hair. “This is why you need me. Ruling is difficult enough for a man—a girl like you can’t expect to carry this burden on your own.”
“You’re right,” she says softly. Her hands run down his back, gentle and inviting. “I’ve been such a child. So na?ve. No wonder I fell for the thief’s lies.”
“Marry me, Cas. Forget him.”
She tenses. “You . . . you’d take me back? After everything I’ve done?”
He smiles and lifts her chin. “It wasn’t your fault, love. He manipulated you. You were alone and afraid, and he offered you strength. Naturally you were drawn to that. But he was a lie, and I am the truth. Let me be your strength. Let me help you see through the deceptions. I can protect you, Cas.”
He bends his neck and presses his lips against hers. Her eyes slide shut, and she melts into him.
“I love you, Cas,” he whispers.
“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
He pulls away, his brows drawing together. “What?”
“Oh, cousin.” She cups his face in her hands, her eyes filled with pity. “You want so desperately to be loved. If you’d stop being an ass for five minutes, maybe someone could.”
He begins coughing, and his legs weaken. He topples forward, and Caspida supports him.
“You whore . . .” he gasps.
“Sh. It’ll go easier if you don’t talk.”