She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn't stop her heart, beating so fast against her chest she thought for sure it would burst, leaving her a bloody mess. She squeezed her legs tight and pulled them into her chest, curling into a ball, trying to contain this explosion. But it would not be contained.

She wanted to feel his skin on hers, and just the idea was enough to raise her heartbeat to dramatic rates. What an unholy thing she was, thinking such unholy thoughts. She was to remain untouched until marriage, but she couldn’t help thinking of all the ways she would let him touch her.

It was dangerous, to think such things, but she couldn’t stop. She felt drunk off the thought of him and it was a liquor she never wanted to lose the taste of, drugs she never wanted to lose the habit of. There was madness growing within her, the junoon that came only with ishq.

She wanted to scream.

She didn’t understand: she knew he was bad for her and—yet. How could her heart do this to her? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it, this revolt of her heart’s, this incessant attention and adoration for someone that would bring no good.

That was the worst part, maybe. That she knew nothing good would come from this, but she still caught on him. She was absurdly in love with the idea of love, and there he was, a perfect vessel to carry those hopes. There he was, a perfect stature of distraction and aimless, indistinguishable delight.

So she did the only thing she could—she prayed: prayed for her heart to cease this adoration and affection, to cease this love.

She prayed for salvation.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Durkhanai could only prolong the inevitable for so long.

All the ambassadors had reached negotiations and agreements. The only ambassador left was the one from Jardum: Asfandyar.

She could talk to him about anything but this. Because she knew they would settle upon an agreement easily and quickly, and then, having done his job, he would leave.

So she avoided bringing it up, like the coward she was. And she so hated to be a coward.

All she could think about was Asfandyar and how close he was to leaving. She was barely bothered when she was summoned to her grandparents.

“Durkhanai, what have you done?” Dhadi asked, confused. “Why did you turn down Rashid?”

“Bas,” Durkhanai said with a shrug. “I just did.”

“But, gudiya, I don’t understand,” Dhadi said. “I thought you two got along well—I thought you had grown to find him suitable.”

“He is a good man,” Durkhanai said. “Kind, sweet, respectful. But I cannot marry him.”

“Why?” Dhadi asked. “Meri jaan, we won’t force you. I just wish to understand.”