She flung an exasperated hand into the air. “She could have told Khalid who she was. What she thought would happen!”
“And confessed that she had been spying for the Sultan of Parthia all these years? That she was the sultan’s daughter?” Vikram scoffed. “If you think your husband would have believed her following that, you do not know him as well as I think you do. Khalid Ibn al-Rashid is a most distrusting man. Though I cannot fault him for being so.”
Spoken like a friend.
Shahrzad rested her hands on her hips. “Vikram, what is Despina trying to accomplish with all this deception?”
“It is not my place to divulge another’s secrets.” With an unbreachable finality to his voice, Vikram turned and began moving forward again, even deeper beneath the sandstone palace. Shahrzad had to quicken her pace to match his lengthy strides. For a time, she felt like a flea chasing after an elephant.
The walls around them continued to close in tight, the ceiling becoming rounded, less stone and more earth. As the silence passed, Shahrzad found herself considering Vikram’s words.
Considering the whole of Despina’s betrayal.
“She could have told Khalid everything,” Shahrzad repeated, though with decidedly less vehemence. “He would have believed her in time. After all, you believed her.”
“He would not have believed her in time.” His words boomed through the semidarkness. “And he would never have trusted her. Even I took some . . . convincing.” Vikram glanced over his shoulder. “And I swore if I caught her lying, I would slit her throat.”
“I still may,” Shahrzad retorted under her breath before nearly slamming into his broad back.
“Then I offer you that chance.” With that, he threw open the ancient, creaking door before him, leading into a passage of sewers. The warm stench clogged Shahrzad’s nostrils, curling in her throat and causing her to gag.
As did the sight of Despina waiting in the shadows.
Again, Shahrzad was possessed by the sudden urge to attack her.
The former handmaiden—now princess—stood wrapped in a dark cloak, with a crooked smile aimed Shahrzad’s way. “You look awful.” She leaned in close. “And you smell even worse.”
“And you can go straight to hell.”
Her smile widened. “As long as you’ll be there, I think I might like it.”
Shahrzad resisted the urge to scream. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Despina el-Sharif. First you are one thing, then you are another. At this point, my neck hurts from spinning about so fast. Just tell me this: Why have you been lying to me this entire time?”
Despina shrugged. “I was born to lie, Shahrzad. I ask you, how does one recover from such an inclination?”
“The same way one chooses to serve such a despicable father,” Shahrzad replied sardonically.
“I suppose you would want to know about that.” Despina cast her a thin smile. “Would you mind walking as we talk?”
Shahrzad crossed her arms and remained still.
I will go nowhere with her. Not until she convinces me otherwise.
“I can see these few weeks apart have not weathered your obstinance. Pity.” Despina smirked. “Very well, then. I knew this had to happen eventually.” She leaned back on a heel, her hands predictably akimbo. “On her deathbed, my mother confessed my father’s identity. She presented me with a scroll as proof and told me to go to him, for she hoped he might care for me, now that I had no one left.”
Though Despina spoke flippantly, a flash of pain—a glimmer of truth—rippled across her eyes. Despite the abhorrent smells and the sounds of dripping sludge around them, Shahrzad strove to maintain a posture of unmoved silence.
Despina continued. “After my mother’s death, I journeyed from Cadmeia to Amardha, begging, bartering, and stealing my way there. When I arrived at the palace gates, the guards tried to toss me into the gutter. I was a skinny, scrawny, eleven-year-old girl. Eventually I found a sympathetic soldier willing to hear my plea. I presented him with the scroll bearing my father’s seal. He disappeared within the palace and returned hours later.”
“Forgive the slight,” Shahrzad interrupted with a frown, “but I can’t imagine Salim Ali el-Sharif putting a hand of welcome out to you. Especially after having neglected you for much of your life.”