The bottom dropped out of his stomach. “Sajda, no. I never said . . . That’s not how I see you.”
The heat from her palm raced along his chest, a thrill of lightning that sent his heart racing. “I know that. This isn’t about how you see me. It’s about how I see myself.” She leaned closer, until he was drowning in the dark blue of her eyes. “I might wear the warden’s cuffs, but I make my own choices. And I choose to help you.”
He closed his eyes against the wave of pain and hope that threatened to undo him. “I’ve already lost everything, Sajda. I don’t want to lose you too.”
“Then you shouldn’t have insisted on being my friend.” Her voice was uncharacteristically gentle, and he opened his eyes to see fierce compassion on her face. “I don’t turn my back on my friends.”
“The warden will try to kill me again. So will the impostor and my uncle. Hashim—”
“When have you ever been afraid of a challenge?” She leaned back and pinned him with the look she usually gave him before they sparred.
“I’m afraid of this one,” he said quietly.
“And that means you give up? You walk away and stop fighting? You give them what they want?”
His jaw tightened, and he looked away. “I’m not giving up. I’m acknowledging that the odds are stacked heavily against me. I was so sure I could fix this. So sure that my destiny was to rule Akram, and that Yl’ Haliq would deliver me from this so that I could make things right. But he hasn’t. Things just keep getting worse.”
“So you fight harder. You fight smarter. And you don’t tell your best ally to leave you alone.”
“I don’t know how to win,” he admitted, forcing himself to look at her. “I don’t know how to fight all three threats at the same time.”
She smiled, and his pulse beat faster. “Hashim is badly injured. And sadly it looks like he is getting an infection from his wound. A shame so much dirt got in there after it was already bandaged.”
He blinked. “Did you—”
“I doubt he’ll be well enough to do anything to you for a week or more. And the warden has a scandal on her hands, as does the crown.”
“What do you mean?”
Her smile grew. “Oh, just a few well-placed observations and speculations with the right aristocrats during Exhibition Day. By now, the entire city should be on fire with rumors about the new competitor who looks so much like a Kadar. Many of the prominent families already hate what Fariq has done to the city and are just looking for an excuse to turn on him.”
“And you made sure to give them what they needed.”
“Like I said, I make my own choices. Now you choose to get better and keep fighting.”
He leaned toward her, ignoring the burn of agony in his body, and wrapped his arms around her as the faint whisper of hope within him flickered into a flame. “Thank you for staying with me.”
She stiffened at first, and then slowly melted into his embrace. Her body was warm, her breath tickled his neck, and the darkness that had opened up within him shrank a little before the unrelenting demands of her faith in him.
THIRTY
“OPEN THE DOOR,” Rahim snapped as he entered the magistrate’s office surrounded by his team of guards the day after the combat round against the sand demon. “I’m going to do an inspection of the prison.”
“Inspection, Your Highness?” The magistrate hurried out from behind his large desk, his eyeglasses askew. “This is most unusual. Does the warden know you’re coming?”
Rahim silenced him with a long, cold look.
“But of course, my prince. Whatever you’d like.” The man hastened to lead Rahim and his guards to the tunnel that wound down to Maqbara’s entrance.
Rahim didn’t reply. Sweat beaded the man’s brow as the silence extended throughout the length of the journey through the tunnel.
“My apologies, Your Highness.” The magistrate’s voice shook slightly. “The warden dislikes unexpected visitors, but that is no excuse for questioning my liege.”
Rahim inclined his head in a slight acknowledgment of the apology and then swept inside the prison.
If the warden didn’t want a surprise visit from the crown prince, then she should’ve made sure to kill Javan in Loch Talam like she’d been paid to do.
The tall girl with the pale skin and dark hair was sweeping sand from the arena floor so prisoners could shovel it into the open crates that lined the edges of the arena. She stilled as Rahim approached, and then slowly raised her gaze to his. Something cold skittered across Rahim’s skin at the look on her face, and he gave her a predatory smile for the pleasure of watching her icy confidence dissolve into quivering obedience.
She raised her chin, something dangerous burning in her eyes.
His smile winked out.
Once he’d solved the problem of Javan, he was going to teach the warden’s slave a lesson as well. He hadn’t crawled his way out of the desert filth and into the palace just to have a slave refuse to give him his due.
“Where are the injured prisoners?” he asked.
“If you’re looking for Javan, you should know—”
“I’m Javan,” Rahim snapped. “Anyone claiming otherwise is a traitor who deserves death.” His heart pounded, and rage licked at his veins.
Had the prince already turned the prisoners against him?
Something flickered in the girl’s blue eyes, and she tugged at the iron bracelets she wore. “Of course you are,” she said in a quiet, cold voice. “There is a prisoner here by the same name. You seemed interested in watching him fight yesterday. He was injured, so I thought you were referring to him.”
It was a plausible explanation given how angry Rahim had been at the prince’s survival, but it was unsettling that the slave had paid it any notice.
“You should know that he is one of the favorites among the aristocrats,” the girl said. “They love to champion someone who has the strength to beat the odds.” Her eyebrow rose. “Better return on their investment.”
“What do I care about the aristocrats’ betting?” he asked sharply.
“The crowd favorites are closely followed,” she said, her eyes boring into his. “Rumors abound. Especially when one seems to resemble the royal family. It would be a shame for him to succumb to his injuries and fuel the speculation that he’s a royal in prison by mistake.”
Everything inside Rahim went cold and still. “Why would his death fuel speculation like that?”
“Because if he’s in Maqbara by mistake, then there could be only one person who would benefit from placing him here. At least those were the rumors I overheard on the last Exhibition Day.” She cocked her head. “I’m not sure what a group of suspicious aristocrats could do to a prince, of course. I’m sure I’m worried on your behalf for nothing.”