Shahrzad’s eyes returned to Despina. “Married? What poor fool have you duped into marriage?”
Despina winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She floated into the seat beside her father. “But congratulations are due, nonetheless. For it just so happens my husband is a good friend of yours.”
Still inexplicably taciturn, Yasmine took the place next to Despina, while Jahandar sat beside Shahrzad. He shot her a nervous glance full of warning, which Shahrzad promptly ignored.
The feast before her forgotten in a sea of rage, Shahrzad glowered at her devious former handmaiden, as moments from their shared past drifted hot and fast into her present.
“A good spy would hide her identity.”
“The best spies don’t have to.”
So many conversations shared over so many cups of tea.
So many supposed confidences.
Despina’s mother had been one of the most famous beauties in all of Cadmeia. Her father had been a rich man who’d left them both behind for a brighter future.
Or had he? What could Shahrzad believe of the tales she’d been told?
Of course Despina would not want to marry Jalal! Of course she would not want to marry into the family she’d been spying on for so many years! Of course she would flee! Only to return to her father’s waiting arms . . . and all-too-eager ears.
Only to betray Shahrzad. And all those she loved.
How could I have been so stupid?
“How could you do this to us?” Shahrzad whispered. “I treated you as a friend. You told me Khalid was kind to you.”
“The Caliph of Khorasan is kind to no one,” Despina replied airily. “Or perhaps you’ve forgotten how you first came to be at the palace?” She snorted. “I daresay that’s rather convenient.”
The sultan laughed, rich and robust. Despina had the gall to simper in his direction. Now that they sat close to each other, Shahrzad could see it. Though it was not a resemblance readily apparent when they were apart. Despina must have acquired her coloring from her mother, but her bearing was much like that of the sultan. Haughty. Proud. Her bone structure was similar to his as well. A sharp brow and a high set of cheekbones. Indeed, Shahrzad could even see similarities between Despina and Yasmine. An ethereal sort of beauty. Regal in its manner.
No wonder Despina had slipped past everyone with such ready ease. Such brazen charm. It was born to her. She was meant to reside in a palace. To slither and snake her way into its inner circle, with the very best of the vipers.
In a mere six years, she’d managed to earn the trust of the Caliph of Khorasan.
And the heart of the captain of the guard.
“How could you do this to Jalal?” Shahrzad asked, her nails digging into her palms as she tried in vain to suppress her seething outrage.
Her expression unnervingly apathetic, Despina spooned some pomegranate-and-pistachio rice onto her plate. “Alas, Jalal al-Khoury’s sentiments are no longer my concern.” Then she smirked at Shahrzad, and the feigned sympathy behind it made Shahrzad want to tear the band of shining stones from her crown of curls. “But rest assured. The captain of the guard will have no trouble finding a willing girl to soothe his injured pride, of that I am certain.” The last words savored strangely of bitterness.
Shahrzad clenched her teeth, willing herself to stay silent and still. She caught Yasmine considering her through half-lidded eyes.
It was unlike the princess to be so quiet. It surprised Shahrzad, but then Yasmine el-Sharif had surprised her on more than one occasion. Again, Shahrzad felt as though Yasmine wished to speak but perhaps had yet to form an opinion. Or lacked the necessary nerve in front of her father.
Nevertheless, Yasmine looked for all the world displeased. For an instant, Shahrzad thought to engage her. But the beautiful girl would not look her in the eye. Still refused to see her as anything but an enemy.
Not an equal.
Shahrzad continued glaring at Despina while the former handmaiden laughed and joked with the Sultan of Parthia—with her father—as though she had not spent years in a world of deceit.
In the midst of Shahrzad’s roiling thoughts, a sudden realization rose quickly to the surface.
Despina could not have lied about being pregnant.
For Shahrzad remembered how Despina had fallen ill before her eyes.
Shahrzad let her shoulders relax. She reached for her jewel-encrusted goblet of wine. “Uncle Salim,” she began in a cool tone, “are you aware of your daughter’s pregnancy? Or did she fail to tell you that she is in fact with child?”
“Of course he is aware of it,” Despina replied without missing a beat. “I told you, I am married. It stands to reason I might be with child.”
Even more lies.
“Is that so?” Shahrzad clenched her jaw, then took a sip of wine, trying to steady herself. “And what did you do with your supposed husband? Toss him into the sea when you were done with him?”
“Oh, no.” Despina’s eyes shone bright. “He is safely stowed away, where he will cause me no trouble.”
“Then you brought the poor lout with you?” Shahrzad all but sneered.