Maybe she could, her heart hoped, as she drifted toward sleep. Perhaps everything would work out, in the end. Perhaps her grandparents truly loved her enough to accept Asfandyar. Sure, things would be a little bumpy, a little difficult, but it would all work out, in the end. Then, she would have the rest of her life with him, the rest of eternity.

Yes, everything would be okay.

But the words tasted acidic, like a lie.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

What tasted more of grief than broken dreams?

What more of sorrow than a ruined tomorrow?

When she awoke, Asfandyar’s arms still around her, Durkhanai was thrust back to reality. She felt a hand around her heart, squeezing and squeezing, until all the blood burst out, leaving a limp muscle, once alive, now dead.

Only then did she rise, unraveling herself from him. She allowed herself one last glance to memorize his countenance: the curled eyelashes framing his closed eyes, the soft pout of his sleeping mouth.

She would pay her weight in gold to kiss him again, but some things were too precious to be bought so easily. It would only make things harder, besides. What she felt for him was mohabbat, in which case there was no hope, for mohabbat was a love that penetrated every bone in the body, every breath and every heartbeat.

She knew how this story ended. Her grandparents would never accept him. They had no future together.

So, dragging her protesting heart along with her, she slipped away.

Durkhanai locked herself in her chambers, barring all visitors, feigning acute illness. She could not even muster the strength to say goodbye to Gulalai, who would be leaving, too. Durkhanai did not want to risk speaking for fear of what she would say if she did.

She gave the guards strict instructions not to open her doors for anybody, not even her grandparents, who would be too busy with preparing the ambassadors’ departures to quarrel with her.

Everyone knew once she had made up her mind, Durkhanai was impossible to persuade.

So she was left alone.

She sat in silence, watching the world revolve on its axis, the slow crawl of time as the sun trod across the sky, until finally sunset approached and even passed and brought the cool veil of night across the sky.

Only a little longer, then.

She need only wait through the night. Come dawn, he would be gone. No longer a threat, and never having confessed whatever secret her instincts told her she did not want to hear.

Things had gone successfully, she reminded herself. War had been avoided. Marghazar was still in power. They had negotiated things from all the ambassadors. Durkhanai should have been happy.

But all she could think about was Asfandyar, how she would never see him again.