Her nails bit into her skin, but before she could say anything else, he left without another word. Her heart hammered with anger and a thousand and one emotions more.

She didn’t understand, didn’t comprehend if he was bad for her, wrong for her, impossible for her. Was it her instinct and self-preservation pushing him away or pride and arrogance? She couldn’t understand it.

Why was her heart caught on him? Why did her heart keep turning to him, even as she tried to walk away? Even as he walked away? Oh, wretched, cruel thoughts. How horrible they were to her.

Durkhanai knew she would never marry Rashid, yet she still hadn’t told him. Judging from Naeem-sahib’s comment earlier, Rashid must have been anxious for a response.

Chagrined, she could sense she was being a coward, prolonging the inevitable. She had pondered over the softest way to approach the situation, but enough was enough.

She had wondered if problems really didn’t go away if they weren’t addressed. She had been determined to test it out, but no more.

Rashid deserved a response. She went to get Heer, intent on riding to his house. But when she neared the palace stables, she found there was no need. Rashid was there in the hall, heading in the same direction.

“Rashid!” she called. He turned. When he saw her, a bright smile covered his face.

“Shehzadi!” He walked toward her.

“I need to speak with you,” she said.

“I was just going riding with my father.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. His father stood in the distance, watching them. “Perhaps we could have chai together afterward?”

Why wasn’t Rashid the one she loved? Durkhanai cursed her wretched heart.

The sight of the nobleman almost changed her mind, but—no. She had to choose herself. She deserved more, and so did Rashid.

“It will only take a moment,” she said quickly.

Rashid stepped closer. Durkhanai took a breath.

“I appreciate what you said,” she told him. “But I do not feel the same. I cannot accept your proposal.”

“Oh,” Rashid said. His face slackened, contorting with confusion. He shook his head. “I don’t understand. Is it not opportune? Have our families not discussed this very idea?”

“It is, they have, but I cannot.” Durkhanai hoped he would understand, not press her for more details. “I do not wish to marry merely for political gain.”

“But I thought . . .you asked me for help.” His usually warm eyes had lost their sunlight. “I spoke to all those noblemen on your behalf.”

“You are to head your clan one day,” she responded. “Surely you were not being amiable to the other noblemen solely for my sake?”

“But I thought—”