To a place she was certain would bring about a predictable turn of events. Especially since Shahrzad had a sinking feeling she knew where she had been taken.
Trying to tamp down her fears, Shahrzad made her way to the tray of food on the garishly colorful table in the corner. She dripped some of the water from the tumbler onto the silver edge of the tray, waiting to see if it would darken the tray’s surface. When it did not change color, Shahrzad trickled some of the liquid onto her skin to see if it would do her any harm. Then she took a tentative sip. Her throat was terribly parched. She did not yet trust the food, but she knew she must at least wet her tongue if she meant to survive for any stretch of time.
When Shahrzad heard the sound of grating metal beyond the double doors, she knocked aside the herbs and smashed the platter against the edge of the mosaic table. Then she grabbed one of the larger shards of porcelain and wrapped a linen napkin around one end to fashion a rudimentary weapon.
At the very least, she would not face down her enemy without a fight.
One of the double doors swung open. Shahrzad concealed her weapon to one side of her sun-worn trowsers.
Only to watch her father breeze across the threshold—
Well-dressed and wearing a smile through the wisps of his neatly trimmed beard.
Baba?
When Jahandar saw Shahrzad—armed and crouched in an almost feral position upon the marble floor—he lifted his scarred hands in a placating gesture.
“Shahrzad-jan! You mustn’t be afraid.” He moved to her with a swift-footedness Shahrzad had not seen from him in quite some time.
“Baba”—she blinked, beyond confused to see him in such a poised and polished state—“where are we?”
“Dearest, please put down the weapon. There is no cause to be afraid!” He smiled again, even brighter. “The guards outside told me you’d tried the door not long ago, so I came straightaway.”
“Where are we?” Shahrzad demanded again.
“I know you must be afraid, but he does not wish you any harm. No one does. Indeed, you will be safer here than you were in the encampment. And much better cared for. As befitting your status.” His shoulders rolled back at the last, filled with a peculiar sort of pride. A pride that did not fit her situation at all.
“Baba!” she admonished, her frustration clear, for he had yet to answer the question she’d now twice posed.
His smile faltered. But only slightly. “Reza thought it best you be brought to Amardha.”
As she’d suspected. Nevertheless, Shahrzad’s heart lurched. For a moment, she could scarcely breathe. “You brought me to Salim Ali el-Sharif?”
“Of course!” Jahandar did not even flinch at her dangerous tone. “He is your husband’s uncle, is he not?” He spoke simply, though his expression indicated much more knowledge.
“How could you do this to me?” she whispered.
At her quiet accusation, her father’s watery eyes wavered, then stiffened at the edges. In that instant, Shahrzad realized he would not be moved by her pleas.
Not this time.
He pulled straight. “Perhaps it is I who should be asking you this question, daughter.”
Immediately, Shahrzad recoiled from both his charge and the cold light that had entered his eyes. Eyes that had always been a warm mirror to her own.
“What have you done with my book?” her father asked in a mincing tone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She lifted her chin, trying to conceal her apprehension.
“Shahrzad. I’ve already spoken to Irsa. I know it was she who drugged me.”
Shahrzad remained stone-faced, though her heart missed a beat at the mention of her sister.
“She refused to say anything further on the matter, but you know as well as I that Irsa is incapable of uttering a falsehood. And her attempts to avoid disclosing the truth belied her actions.” His face screwed tight in frustration. “Therefore I must insist that you—” Though it took effort, her father managed to temper his reaction. “I am not angry, dearest. I know someone must have coerced you. Perhaps the caliph or someone with the desire to undermine—”
“No. No one coerced me to do anything. Because nothing has been done.”
Again, a flash of cold light filled her father’s gaze. “Do not lie to me, daughter.”
Shahrzad steeled herself even further. “Where is Irsa, Baba?”
No response, save for a soft inhalation of breath. The barest of hesitations.
“Baba?”
He opened his mouth to answer, then paused a telling beat. A beat that made Shahrzad’s throat swell tight with trepidation. Her father offered a kind grin. “You are still weak from the journey and your injuries. Allow the sultan’s servants to tend to you, after which you should join us for dinner. The sultan’s daughter has been quite worried about you. I promise all will be discussed tonight.”