Raven asked, “May I determine the punishment, Pedar? No one would suspect me. It’s better to punish one severely than to punish many leniently.”

Although she constantly amazed him, he was never prepared for the complexity of her mind and the fearlessness of her young heart. “What do you have in mind?”

Her brows came together in a frown. “Your Honor does not trust the daughter whose sons will occupy the throne?”

“If anyone cheats us today, you select the sentence.”

They did not have to wait long. A hand dipped into a pocket and came out with coins. A man glanced around, accepted the gold, and stuffed it into his own pocket. His plume dipped into an inkwell, and in fine hand, with a few strokes, the royal coffer was cheated of hundreds of dinars.

With wonder akin to joy, Raven whispered, “What happened?”

“He is a wealthy merchant of saffron. Every year, he bribes our men to reduce his taxes to one fraction of what he owes. We relinquish him to you.”

The Courtyard of Horses was cleared of animals; the two gates on both sides were secured. A scimitar hung from a hook fastened to one of the gates. A drummer sat cross-legged on top of a lone platform. A dais set with the royal couches, and circled by many levels of benches occupied by distinguished spectators, overlooked the arena below.

The Shah held his daughter’s elbow as they entered. He was amazed at the energy coursing through her small body.

Iron Heart, the chief executioner, watched the royal entrance. He had implemented many horrors ordered by the late shah, but his hands had never trembled. Today they did. His usually flushed face was pale, and for the first time in his life, he almost wished he were not in such excellent form. After the late shah, executions and punishments had become rare. Iron Heart had watched this king grow with a penchant for peace and quiet. There had been times throughout his reign when, in order to preserve his throne and his pride, the Shah had been forced to go against his grain and order punishments. But this was different. It had to do with the princess. What would her mother think? She was the kindest sultana in the harem, smiling at him on her outings, asking after his health while blushing as if his profession shamed her. After this, he would ask the Shah to allow him to return to his village. Surely the Shah would honor the demand of an executioner who had the kindness to walk the child-heir to his quarters to change after he had wet his pants at the sight of a hanging. Yes. He would retire. He had seen enough misery and bloodshed.

It was one thing to be commanded by a shah to perform an execution; it was another for a child to mock death.