After his coronation, it was true Agha-Jaan became a little mad with grief and vengeance. The Badshah had been fighting the Luhgam Empire ever since, and no matter how many battles were won, he was insatiable. She knew he needed victory to avenge his family’s deaths. She knew he would stop at nothing until then.

And yes, sometimes she disagreed with how hard he pushed, how stubborn he was, but he was everything to her. Durkhanai would do anything for her Agha-Jaan.

“Fine, don’t say anything more,” Gulalai responded. She set her cane to the side as a servant poured her some tea. “Now time for some reiterated advice that I don’t think you understood the first time: stay away from Asfandyar-sahib of Jardum. I saw him follow after you when you left the banquet yesterday.”

Durkhanai’s heart ricocheted against her ribs. Asfandyar had followed her? But she hadn’t even seen him. She opened her mouth in protest, but Gulalai put up a hand.

“Oh, save me the excuses,” she said, stirring sugar into her tea. “I believe you can handle yourself, but he is handsome and charming. Anyone is capable of being a fool for love, even you, Shehzadi.”

Feeling exposed, Durkhanai narrowed her eyes.

“I already know the man I am to marry,” she said quickly, thinking of Rashid. She wasn’t a fool. “He is the son of a nobleman from our court: he is of good family. And . . . kind and smart.”

“You’re engaged?” Gulalai asked, biting into a cookie. “Fascinating.”

Durkhanai shook her head. “It is understood.”

“And what of love?”

“It will come. With time, respect, and effort, I will grow to love my husband, whoever he is. But my duty is first and foremost to my people.”

She was a princess; she had to do what was best for her people.

“I would still be careful around that Jardum boy, though,” Gulalai advised. “People love to spread horrid rumors.”

“Don’t worry,” Durkhanai told her.

She was unbothered by the thought of rumors. The people wouldn’t believe such filth. They knew Durkhanai wouldn’t do anything she wouldn’t have the courage to admit to upfront. Besides, the people were better than that. They weren’t malicious and gossipy.

“Anyways, let’s talk about what you said,” Durkhanai said, biting into a biscuit. “We must stop this impending war before it comes.”

The Badshah had three months to prove his innocence or there would be war. Until then, she hoped the ambassadors could be sated by hospitality.

“It is my opinion that somebody is trying to frame Marghazar,” Gulalai said. “It’s much too obvious for the Badshah to be behind the summit attack.”

“Yes, but who?” Durkhanai asked. “I can’t figure it out. Who has anything to gain from this?”