“As a matter of fact, I did ask him.” Tariq yawned through his words. “For I’d be much more likely to get an honest response from him than from you.”
Shahrzad cut her eyes at Tariq, more than willing to battle with him, despite her condition. “So now you’re talking to him instead of trying to kill him?”
“Be kind, Shazi,” Tariq retorted, the portrait of ease. “After all, I did let him sleep in my tent.”
We’re in Tariq’s tent. And we managed to survive the night here.
Shahrzad could scarcely believe it. Again she wondered if she might still be suffering from the aftereffects of last night’s ordeal. For surely there could not be a note of humor in Tariq’s voice. And she had yet to detect even a hint of tension in Khalid.
It’s clear something of note happened between them.
Beyond their attempts to murder each other.
But Shahrzad could not be certain whether all was indeed as it appeared.
Wariness settling between her shoulders, Shahrzad glanced from her husband to her first love. Then back again.
What had made Tariq no longer wounded to the core by the mere existence of Khalid? And what had made Khalid no longer of a mind to destroy Tariq on sight?
I will never understand men.
But she would not question her good fortune. Not now, at least.
“What is the hour?” Shahrzad asked, her voice still thicker than usual. It appeared the tea she’d consumed at Irsa’s behest was clouding her faculties. Or perhaps it was the tonic left by her bedside. Whatever the case, she could not fault either draught much. Whatever she’d consumed had lessened her pain, which should by all rights be considerable.
Tariq studied the weak light filtering through the tent seams. “I believe it’s just near dawn.”
She closed her eyes. “Oh.”
“But I don’t think he should remain in the camp for much longer,” Tariq said in a thoughtful tone. For a moment, indecision seemed to hover about him. As though he himself were unsure of his course. “For I cannot continue to guarantee his safety, should anyone discover his identity. After all”—he turned somber—“this is not an army rallied in his support.”
Shahrzad braced herself for one of Khalid’s blistering replies. Something low and curt that was sure to provoke Tariq.
When Khalid said nothing, Shahrzad took the opportunity to answer with a quick nod. “He’s right. We should return to Rey with all haste, Khalid.” Biting back a gasp, Shahrzad shifted to one side, preparing to stand.
“I can travel there myself,” Khalid replied.
“No,” she said. “No one knows you left, and the shahrban will be incensed if he believes something has happened to you. Not to mention Jalal. We should return quickly.”
And the magic carpet is the best way to do so.
“My uncle will be angry with me regardless. And Jalal—will be unlikely to notice.” At the mention of his cousin, Khalid’s body tensed ever so slightly.
“Of course he’ll notice.”
“I would not be so certain.”
The sudden tension—along with the hint of dejection in his voice—made Shahrzad turn back to look at him. Even in the early-morning shadows, the change in his disposition was unmistakable . . . provided one knew what to look for.
What has happened between Khalid and Jalal?
When she saw the look of warning Khalid passed in her direction, Shahrzad decided not to discuss the matter further. At least not in Tariq’s presence.
Instead, she endeavored to sit straight, stifling a cry at the shooting pain that traveled down the length of her arm. The entire right side of her body was stiff. She clenched and unclenched her fist in an attempt to restore movement to her fingers.
“Shazi”—Tariq started toward her, concern marring his face—“I don’t think you should—”
“Don’t presume I care what you think.” She glared at him while waving him off with her uninjured arm. “Especially since you’re to blame for this.”
Tariq winced. “I’ll not protest on that score. And though it’s a feeble thing to say, I am sorry. More sorry than I can put to words.”
“I know you’re sorry. We’re all very sorry any of this ever had to happen,” she said in a peevish tone. “But now is not the time to tell me what to do, especially in the face of all your mistakes.” With a cutting glare, Shahrzad returned to her task of restoring movement to the right side of her body, despite the searing ache behind each motion.
“Are you not going to stop her?” Tariq said to Khalid, his exasperation all too evident.
“No,” Khalid replied in an unruffled manner, still lying on the bed pallet in studious silence. “I’m not.”
Shahrzad shot Tariq a triumphant look.
“But will you lend me a horse and enough provisions to journey to Rey?” Khalid said to Tariq, rolling to standing with unaffected grace. Almost mocking Shahrzad for her inability to stand straight.
“Khalid!”