“And despite that—when the time came to choose between my life and yours, I chose your life, Maram.”

Her gaze was hollow and disconnected. “Why?”

“Because you are our only hope,” I said. “Because I saw something tremendous in you.”

Her head jerked up and her eyes widened. “What?”

“You have the makings of a great queen, Maram,” I said. “And I did what I could to save that.”

“Really?” she said hoarsely. She blinked rapidly. “Do you still think that?”

“Yes.” And the truth was that I did. Whatever Maram and my personal quibbles, in moments like these I saw a version of her that must have always existed. Vulnerable and soft and honest—whatever her father had tried to make her into, he hadn’t been wholly successful. There existed in her a woman who could lead our planet to prosperity, who cared about justice—she only needed to be coaxed out.

Something in the flash of her eyes, the reflection of light on unshed tears, reminded me of the tesleet. It had come to me after I’d thought I’d lost everything—my family beaten, my friendship with Maram in tatters, and alongside it the future of everything I’d envisioned. The tesleet had come to me in my lowest moment and brought hope with it. It was a sign from Dihya, a calling to do what was necessary. It meant, I knew, that I had to help Maram since I could not and would not depose her. That I could, despite my current circumstance.

“I’m sorry—” she began, and I was so unprepared a laugh slipped out. “Why are you laughing? I was serious!”

“I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize,” I said, smiling. “For anything.”

“I have,” she protested. “I think.”

My smile widened.

“You’re impossible,” she said, but there was a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

I sighed. “I will take your place at M’Gaadir. But I truly can’t do it forever. The longer I play at being you, the more of a disadvantage you will have. This is the time to build relationships, Your Highness. You will have to face your destiny sometime.”

“My destiny as someone’s wife?” she asked dryly.

“As someone’s future queen,” I corrected.

Maram and I parted on tenuous but hopeful ground. She returned to take up her spot beside Idris, and I remained in the double’s suite to help Tala pack for our trip to M’Gaadir. Now that I had agreed, all that was left was to do it.

“You are very brave,” Tala said as she hung up a qaftan. “And very strong.”

I huffed out a quiet laugh. “I am pragmatic,” I said. “Which is what happens when you are the only daughter with a foolhardy brother. When there is something to do, the only answer is to do it.”

She smiled. “You never talk about them.”