It also meant I needed to become used to having an escort wherever I went. I waited now in the courtyard of the palace, flanked by several guards who were assigned to me, and several more who were assigned to Buchra, who stood beside me. At last, I heard the sound of booted feet striking paved stone and a moment later Idris appeared. I groaned when two more guards appeared behind him.

“We will disrupt the souk with so many,” I said. “We must be allowed to leave a few.”

He smiled ruefully at me. “You are a symbol of the new revolution,” he replied. “I won’t risk your life so that you can buy spices, instead of having them ordered.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him and instead tucked my hand into his elbow.

“I’ve never gone shopping in a souk,” Buchra said from my left.

I smiled as we made our way down. “I miss going out,” I said. “I haven’t left the palace walls as myself since we’ve arrived, and I want to—” I cut myself off before forcing myself to continue. “Is it silly that I want to make sure I still know how to do it?”

“Amani,” Idris said softly, and I shook my head.

“Most of that girl is gone,” I said to Buchra with a half smile. “But hopefully enough of her remains that she can haggle with a spice seller.”

Maram had publicly released Idris from his marriage to her before we’d arrived at M’Gaadir. I’d read the press release last week, still trying to digest that I’d had a hand in crafting so public a narrative.

Under the tyrannical rule of my father, Amani was pressed into slavery and Idris and I shackled to an imperial machine we could not control. Despite that, Amani and Idris found happiness with one another, and it was against our will that Idris and I were wed.

Our planet, she had written, is facing a new era. And I would shepherd that era into being with honesty, and so I give my full and complete blessing to my cousin to wed the prince of the Salihis, as she would have done in a fairer and more just world.