“Amani,” he whispered. “Come back to me.”

I didn’t want to answer. I wanted to kiss him, to draw him as close to me as possible, to feel that he was mine again. But nothing had changed.

“I am not the one who left that night,” I said, my voice just as soft. “And my convictions haven’t changed. The empire still shadows us all.”

I forced myself to release him, to step back.

“Amani—”

“I hope you know where your clothes are,” I interrupted, looking at the ground. “Because I cannot help you.”

I paused in the doorway. “I will speak to the servants so they don’t … conspire again.”

And with that I left, fleeing to my chambers.

05. Maram

05. Maram

STARDATE 4393, PRESENT DAY

It was a strange thing to be sitting across from a husband she seemed to hardly know anymore. Stranger still to reenter a world which now felt alien and strange. She’d been raised among Vathek royalty, and the gloss and veneer of that court was a different world from the one Amani had built for her. A place of laughter and warmth. And though she was grateful, she itched to return to her estate with its crying hawks and secret poetry. The theory of ruling was easier to stomach than the act itself.

And Aghraas.

There were some nights when Aghraas seemed the shadow of her thoughts, when her whole body seemed wound in heat and her dreams of her were inescapable. The question she’d asked in Dar al-Zahra’ echoed in the halls of her mind.

What do you want?

Maram still didn’t know how to answer that question. She never had. There was no wanting among the Vath. There was your duty to the king. There was the blood he exacted from his subjects. There were the cold eyes that only rarely turned to his youngest daughter.

What do you want?

Today she wanted to throttle the world. She and Amani had organized a tournament for the court and opened it to the city. Aghraas was a stranger here, but it was easy to hide among the masses of people who wanted to show off their skill. Maram watched, caught in the grip of something powerful, forced to remain silent, as Aghraas beat fishermen and princes alike in duels and archery.

The sea wind brought with it an oceanic chill, but the sun shined down and gilded the falconer, marking her apart from the rest. She’d won the longbow competition, and Maram’s mind replayed the stillness of her body as she’d aimed, broken only by her swaying braids.