Durkhanai was beyond irritated, beyond frustrated, and he only intensified the plethora of emotions running through her. But she didn’t want to take her anger out on him. Didn’t want him to see this ugly part of her, the semi-barbarism over which she was losing control.

“Nothing,” she snapped, turning to leave.

“Durkhanai!” he called her name again, but she did not turn.

She walked away, still buzzing with anger and confusion and hurt. She ached and wanted to wipe the smug look off Rukhsana’s face. To make her pay for what she had done and her complete lack of remorse.

She acted as though the Marghazari deserved it.

Durkhanai’s feet began carrying her someplace without informing her where, until she was in the kitchens.

She was perfectly calm, perfectly innocent, not that anyone would question her anyways, when she went to the pantry where they were preparing food packages for a journey.

“This is for the Teerzai ambassador, yes?” Durkhanai asked the boy who was wrapping bread in cloth. He nodded quickly. He stepped back from the table and lowered his head.

“Y-Yes, Shehzadi,” he said, not meeting her eyes. Durkhanai looked around and found that no one else was there. She offered the boy a kind smile, then looked at the contents of the package.

“I’d like to ensure our guest is receiving an appropriate farewell,” she told him, examining the rest of the food. “How about some more cake, hm? It cannot be said that the Marghazari are stingy.”

The boy nodded, quickly disappearing to find more cake from within the kitchen. Hands sure, Durkhanai slipped a finger into her jhumka earring, where a little packet of powder was hidden beneath the large umbrella design. Seamlessly, she emptied the powder onto the bread, then spread the remainder into the leather flasks full of water.

The boy returned just as Durkhanai finished wrapping the last stack of bread.

“Everything looks perfect,” she assured him, smiling her rose-gold smile.

Durkhanai walked away, her heart cold as ice.

Now Rukhsana-sahiba would suffer as Durkhanai’s people had.

Durkhanai knew she was being cruel, but she did not care, not even in the slightest.

“Shehzadi!” a voice called. She turned to find a messenger with a letter in his hand. He handed it to her and was off, leaving Durkhanai with shaking hands and a shaking heart.

But when she opened it, it was just from Rashid. He had called for her to come meet with him, which was not alarming at all, until she saw where he said he would be waiting for her.

He would be waiting by the eastern falls and lavender fields.

Durkhanai sighed—she did not want to go—but she could not outright ignore Rashid, especially when his note said he had an important matter to discuss.

She had run off from the banquet. Perhaps he wished to speak with her about what had occurred there.